Saturday, October 29, 2022

#ALLOFIT

I started this blog originally to document my experiences living abroad for two years in Italy. In the mid-2000s. Or the late OOs, aughts, zeroes. And then I moved back to the States. To Portland. And I kept moving. First to Park City, Utah. Then Salt Lake City, Utah. Back to Europe for holiday a few times. And then, for the past year, the Moaning Groaning Early 2020s in rapid succession Boston, spring in Europe, Asheville, North Carolina, Bentonville, Arkansas, Boulder, Albuquerque, Salt Lake, Silver City, Moab.

As of yesterday, 27 October 2022, a Thursday, 10.05 Central European Time, UTC +2, I live in Spain.

Sitges. 

Once again, I don't speak the language.

This time though, I'm old.

I came to Sitges in April for a biking holiday at le bike stop, more riding in Nice, to revisit friends in Ancona (now with kids, so many kids who are uniformly bewildered by this adult who can't understand their simple Italian and endlessly entertained by his responses), and even more riding in Mallorca. Before I boarded my flight back to the US, I knew I wanted my stay to be temporary and my return to Europe, as soon as possible.

Stories about visa applications, red tape, consular visits, bureaucracy and miracles never cease to entertain so I'll write about all that in more depth, so much more depth, a bit later. But, a handful of short (interminably long feeling, anxiety ridden) months later, visa in hand, I'm back, with my same suitcases, different shoes, a new toothbrush, a BIKE, and no definitive idea about how long I'll stay.

I booked a flat for my first month here to give me time to find a long-term rental. It's located near the city center. There are three other similar sized apartment buildings, that along with mine, are grouped around a small open-space. A plaza. A square, courtyard-like communal area. Just on the opposite side of the plaza, behind two of the buildings, is a small church.

These two places, spaces, form the foundation of my initial sensations living here again. Background sensations. Poignant when noticed.

Early evening, the sounds begin: children, dogs, conversation, shouts all building on top of the never ending noise of rushing scooters. It's a collective chorus of catching up, laughing, gathering for a couple hours until abruptly, it ends. I'm two floors up with a patio door slid open hearing but not listening until from time to time I catch myself listening and realize I thought I understood but I really don't understand any of it. Because I'm in Spain and I have to, get to, learn to understand it all all over again.

And tonight in the church, a choir singing for a couple hours, not loudly, a practice?, applauded regularly, not loudly, full-bodied though, a concert? And of course the bells, chiming out the hour, the half-hour, other increments of time, the increment likely known only by its holy audience. This singing forming the soundtrack creating an unintentional welcome.

I bought a SIM card. I successfully ordered coffee while unsuccessfully remembering how to respond "nothing else" when asked "anything else?" I tentatively ordered a kebab. With no onions! So much material.

The blog returns. Cataloging and recording the litany of everyday, ordinary, mundane tasks, errands and adventures constructing a new period of learning and exploration. It's starts again. #ALLOFIT

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