So, I had my first bad day. A fish out of water, unable to understand nor make myself understood as I attempted to make a medical appointment. Somehow, ‘me pones dos cervezas’ did not cut it with the medical staff.
Alas, fast forward 24 hours and Joe, a fleeting but fortuitist friendship, is feeding me watermelon on the roof as we contort ourselves into the most fabulous poses for the Kiki dance as the sun sets to sleep. This lone fish now has a flapping buddy. Hurrah!
Another 24 hours later, my ever kind flat mate has bought me a book. A most welcome gift as a priority for these months is to consume; media, books, art, music, culture, food; to widen my knowledge base and points of reference. On average, I listen to 4 podcasts a day, I read two books a week, I’m learning Spanish, am actively engaged in improving my Irish and I have stopped putting tomatoes in a fruit salad (#wisdom #lol)
Perhaps it’s ironic that the book my housemate has given me is a memoir focused on the North Korean Regime. And funnily enough, I had just finished another book on the same subject that very day. It’s ironic in that, I have never experienced such freedom as I have here. And not only freedom in the sense of free travel and open borders but this move has been, to some extent and without overstating, a liberation. I’m lighter, I’m brighter and my shorts are getting tighter (whoops…how many calories are in a cerveza?).
I’m not beholden to anyone or anything. Upon discovering a male companion’s professional involvement in the escort industry at a photo shoot for a food tour company last week, and with that not aligning with my own moral values, I simply left with an ‘adios amigos’, never to see them again.
Rather I spend my time being nourished by a more wholesome bunch; we do yoga in the park, we cook together, we play cards, exchange idioms, books and belly-hugging smiles. We have a culture of sharing; ‘mi casa es su casa’, ‘mis amigos son sus amigos’, ‘mi tinto es tu tinto’ and not ‘mi naggin es mi naggin’. Carlo, a carnivore, eats nothing that we do not share; cute and romantic…until he orders cold soup.
And when we do cook for one another, it’s to please, not to impress.
Life is fulsome, wholesome and rides that bit more easy. I will set my first alarm of five weeks on Sunday…and that is to wake up for the beach. Today, the electricity is gone, and so what? No pasa nada! I’ll read until it comes back. Maybe I’ll write a poem. Or pluck my eyebrows. The opportunities are endless.
On Tuesday, Speedy Gonzales here ran into a car and landed on its bonnet. And what of it? My elbow and knee are bruised but my stress levels are reduced to such an extent here that my ‘fight or flight’ response was merely a ‘thumbs up and half shrug’. I kept running.
So, my first bad day is over, my basil plant is still alive and Kim Jong Un is due to meet Trump next month. Is there a moral to this story? Qui sait? Ach nach maith an scéalaí an aimsir!