Eight years ago today, I left a place that I called home for three months. I did not know what to expect since I was a whole day's worth of travel away from home and in a distant land where very few people spoke English. So there I was, a small town boy, arriving in a bustling city-- a capital originally planned by King Felipe II, and excited about the prospects of the unknown that was to be three months living in Madrid, Spain.
Seriously, I really did not know what to expect. I had never been out of the country for an extended period of time, save for an occasional long weekend in Monterrey or Saltillo, México. Up until then, Spain had been this far off destination that I had only dreamt about. Nevertheless, the excitement that awaited me outweighted any misgivings I had about leaving my family and friends behind in Texas.
I arrived with a head cold, which for two weeks, made my stay rather miserable. The cold had gotten so bad, that I even entertained the notion of leaving, but that thought was thankfully scraped after a visit to my local farmacia. Hurray for those green neon crosses!
Although I lived in Madrid for those three months, the town I miss the most is Granada. I was so enchanted with this town, that I paid it a second visit the last weekend before I returned home. I don't know what it was about this town, but it's like there must have been magic in those cobblestone streets. I was drawn to the Alhambra and to the Albaycín and to the people too. I used to say, and still say it to my friends, that if I had stayed one more week, I probably would've stay in Granada indefinitely.
Having lived in Spain for so long, I listened to my share of flamenco music and saw a couple shows, mainly in Madrid. A great number of flamenco troupes flock to the capital where it's more financially feasible. I've always found it difficult to put the passion of flamenco music to words, but I think the following piece does it quite well.
Spanish Dancer
by Rainer Maria Rilke
As on all its sides a kitchen-match darts white
flickering tongues before it bursts into flame:
with the audience around her, quickened, hot,
her dance begins to flicker in the dark room.
And all at once it is completely fire.
One upward glance and she ignites her hair
and, whirling faster and faster, fans her dress
into passionate flames, till it becomes a furnace
from which, like startled rattlesnakes, the long
naked arms uncoil, aroused and clicking.
And then: as if the fire were too tight
around her body, she takes and flings it out
haughtily, with an imperious gesture,
and watches: it lies raging on the floor,
still blazing up, and the flames refuse to die -
Till, moving with total confidence and a sweet
exultant smile, she looks up finally
and stamps it out with powerful small feet.
There were so many other memories I made during my short time there, that would take so long to jot everything here: Toledo was just brilliant- El Greco's El Entierro del Señor de Orgaz is one amazing piece of art. I certainly believe that his artwork is vastly underrated. Sevilla is a gem- I actually had time to visit the Archivo General de Indias for a project I was working on back home. Talk about old school. There's nothing like holding a 300+ year old document in your hands and reading the goings-on in colonial Mexico. And then there's Barcelona. Although I only stayed for a day and half, it was a dream come true of sorts. We had an exchange student in high school who hailed from Barcelona and I was captivated with stories of her hometown. My enchantment grew even more when Barcelona hosted the '92 Olympics. What I wanted to see more than anything there was Barcelona's grand, unfinished church, La Sagrada Familia by Antoni Gaudí.
Now that eight years have passed, I feel so far removed from everything Spain, literally and sadly, figuratively. I almost forgot this year's 8th anniversary and I do have reasons for almost forgetting: a death in the family and another relative diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer, all within a few weeks time.
I miss Spain tremendously. And my poem below gives you an idea how I feel.
my love
nothing’s diminished mi querida.
i still feel the same as if i were still with you.
the memories still feed the hole in my soul.
i still think of you often, on any given day.
the memories are wonderful, yet bittersweet.
oh how i miss your smile mi querida.
oh how i miss your warmth mi querida.
nothing will make me happier
than to hear your voice again
nothing will bring me joy
than to see your beauty again and again.
i wish for more time than
what we had the first go ‘round.
i wish to see more of you than
i did the last time.
how can i return to enjoy your charm and grace?
how can i regain that which is now unattainable?
songs and photos of you can only
distract me for so long.
dreams and thoughts of you can only
sustain me for so long.
oh how i wish i was with you again mi querida!
you are the stuff of dreams.
you are the dreams that i still have.
this relatively short time is getting too long for me.
it’s become too long to be without you.
eres la novia de mi ser,
you are my soulmate,
mi querida España.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
fj de g y l
28 I 2007
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