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September 17, 2003


I’m in Spain! With a funky keyboard and two languages battling in my mind, but only when I’m working in English—Spanish does just fine to hold it’s own, luckily, but when I switch to English—for e-mail, for example—the English is shaky and weak, and the Spanish pushes it’s way in so that I think of the Spanish first (primero) and I have to hold it down while the English has a chance to surface.

I’m in Spain. Hace diez aņos que no estoy aqui, it’s been ten years that I’ve been gone. Ten years. Te lo crees? Do you believe it?

What I find most striking is not the things that have changed, but the things that haven’t. Me, for example—Pero eres exactamente igual, my friends tell me. Exactly the same. What they can’t see is that in the meantime, I shaved and regrew my hair, I started and finished two degrees, I´ve burnt and peeled on four or more different continents in snow and in water and in mountains. I can’t see these things in them, either. Miguel and Oscar look exactly the same, Ruben has more hair and Checho less, my hermana has less and David has less and Edu has more and so on, but this is only hair. After ten years, it’s just hair.

The town has changed. The town is bigger, sprawling farther, and the Gran Via has changed from a major road to a pedestrian mall. Streets shooting off from the mall are full of restaurants with tables spilling into the street, and there is a tapas bar which is warmed by elegant yellow lighting reminiscent of fancy bars in San Francisco. This could be the new Boulder.

And here I am, after a week in Germany. Here I am, on day—what is it now? Day four in Espaņa. Day 4! And already I have been out until 5 AM with my brother, seen old friends from three different social circles, spent a day in Madrid with my younger brother, have gotten a massage, and have eaten chorizo, murcilla, mejillones, almejas, caracoles, pescado, tortilla de patata, pan, gazpacho, y arroz con gambas. That translates to sausage, blood sausage, muscles, clams, snails (escargo), fish, tortilla de patatas, bread, gazpacho, and rice and shrimp. Mmmmm.

And now my stomache calls. Today is not a very organized day, thus I’ll spend it around here in Majadahonda, walking around and reading and writing and whatever else comes up. Oh, and eating. Did I mention eating? How I love to eat…

Posted by beth at September 17, 2003 1:45 AM


Beth, trout-dancing phenom: Are you trying to make us 8-5ers insanely jealous with your iceblog (minus the blood sausage of course)? You've figured it all out...can't believe the talks we had in Bloomington before you grabbed life by the @#%$^@%. Enjoy. When will you be back in the states?

Posted by: Julie (aka Hookah J) at September 17, 2003 2:25 AM

Hey Girl!

When will you be here again? I forget. I'm on line right now looking for a tropical place to spend Christmas, or maybe not even tropical, just cheap. :) You've inspired me to go on an adventure. What do you think of Antartica ;).

smiles -


Posted by: nancy trigg at September 17, 2003 3:41 AM

Yeah! You're finally visiting your Spanish family! About Mahadahonda - interesting interpretation and observations!
I have a feeling life is always going to be a great adventure for you, even when (if) you settle in one place!

Posted by: wilma, mother of beth at September 17, 2003 12:58 PM