Winter Continues

The next day, and my last day in Barcelona for awhile, was spent hanging out with my good friend, Jordi Garcia, whose name is a right proper Catalan one.  Jordi and I had a chance to see one another when I first moved to Spain back in September, and at that time we didn't speak Spanish together. We had to speak English.  This time we spoke almost entirely in Spanish.  It is such a good time, speaking another language!  Spanish is a lot of fun.  I loved being able to actually hear Jordi speak this time around, and now I'm also able to get the jist of his thoughts, mentality, and motivations.  Jordi is a very entrepreneurial Spaniard who is ready for a change.  His mind is always working, he comes up with good ideas with the snap of his fingers, and, true to his curious Sagittarian nature, he is always looking for better and brighter ways to do things.  Like me, the expansion of his Self has already started some time ago, and now a lot of the time he feels frustrated with Spain, the Spanish way of life, and the mentality.  He can't wait to leave the place!  It's funny: we both admit the grass always seems greener on the other side.  I love the weather in Spain, he says he wouldn't mind experiencing a change of the seasons and living in a wetter climate.  He is definitely ready to spread his wings.  Jordi, your moment is coming right around the corner!  You are so ready for it!

Jordi 'n me

Jordi has been a constant source of information and assistance to me while I was in Spain.  He knows Barcelona like the back of his hand.  He is the ultimate true friend.  Thanks for everything Jordi!

We met at Placa Catalunya and wandered down the Ramblas, talking and catching up the entire time.  I still had to ask him every now and again how to say something, and once or twice I had him say things differently so I could understand, but mostly I just thought it was groovy hanging out with him!  We ended up at this rustic tavern that you wouldn't even know was there if you weren't with Jordi.  La Oveja Negra was in a cave down some little side street in El Raval.  Normally the place packs like sardines, but on the afternoon that we went, there were only a few people sharing pitchers of beer or sangria, and playing foozball.  Long wooden tables and chairs, stone walls, and a big fireplace to keep yourself warm beside, I could easily imagine it having been at one time a very social, sloppy watering hole, complete with bar wenches serving sangria, and sailors a swillin'.  It was a cool day. 

I am now back in Vancouver and staying with my long time friend, Mark.  He is taking off to Mexico for three weeks, so I'm going to housesit for him, but it'll also be good for me to have a quiet home to crash in.  Not that Mark is loud, mind you.  I am keeping a low profile and not visiting or calling anyone yet, and simply holding on to my energy and strength that I gathered from my time in Espana.  I'm also preparing myself mentally for the month ahead, and keeping myself focussed. 

  

Today I got my car back, how I love my car!  It feels so good to crank the trance music and do my running around town in such a nice ride.  I have spent a good part of my first day back doing administrative stuff: buying groceries, going out to my storage unit, going through boxes, getting my cell phone up and working again (I have a new phone number!).  The weather here is typical Vancouver December weather, but it's not icy or snowing so that is good.  The sun goes down earlier here than it does in Spain.  In Spain you still have a bit of daylight at 5:30.  Here, by 4:30 it's black already.  It's not Valencia, I'll tell you.  And I do miss Valencia.  sigh...

FOCUS CHAR!! 

I will not even have time to notice the weather, that's how busy I'll be this next month.  And I am glad for it.  Glad for a direction that will hopefully give me some strength to go back to Spain as soon as possible, and to stay for a good long while.  Keep your fingers crossed for me.  It's gonna be brutal.  But good!

While it's still early evening in Canada, it's a new year in Spain.  And in Holland, too.  Time for some new things. 

Charleen xo

Just a Little More of Barcelona

It was strange coming back to Barcelona. Not "strange" as in I was weirded out or anything. But "strange" because it really felt like I’d never left. I recognized the vibe instantly and fell in sync with it.  It didn't feel like I was coming back as a tourist, but it felt familiar to me like a home would. Coming into town on Boxing Day was also weird. There was absolutely no activity; a very rare thing for Barcelona.  Just a ton of tourists walking around, no shops open or anything. 

I checked into my hotel, and didn’t sit down very long before I grabbed my purse again and went out the door to catch the metro to my old apartment. I had been keeping my room there, and because I hadn’t given ample notice to my roommate Pam before I left for Valencia, the room had been mine for all of November and December. I still had some things to pack up. All my bedding needed to be sent to Valencia. As well I still had a few articles of clothing, my Rubbermaid container with my micro-current machine, and some toiletries. And when I arrived in Barcelona I knew this task was something that I wanted to get out of the way immediately. Why? Because Ries was going to be coming to meet me in Barcelona, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Obviously.

Lous, Pam, and Lucas

At the apartment packing went smoothly and I was actually able to hang out for awhile with Pam, Lucas, and Pam’s mom Lous who was in from Amsterdam. We drank vodka/tonicas from the lemon vodka I had left there in the freezer, and munched on Christmassy type snacks: olives, crackers, cheese, ham. We watched The Lord of the Rings. It felt like a true seasonal get-together with friends.

The next day was the 27th, and Ries flew into Barcelona to see me. I was super excited and of course didn’t sleep very much the night before. I went out to El Prat to meet him, and I watched as he came through the gate with a huge smile breaking across my face. He seemed as nervous as I was, and was searching through the crowd to find me. Finally he was only feet away from me and I practically knocked him over as I collided with him in an embrace that was one of the sweetest hugs I’ve ever had. Our reunion was awesome - we just stood there and held one another in deep silence for a few minutes with our eyes closed. Then our foreheads finally touched and we stayed like that for probably a couple more minutes, quietly talking to one another, damp eyes and all. I actually had a hard time keeping myself from climbing all over him right there in the airport, I was so happy to see him!

Standing on our balcony in the sunshine

Back at our hotel at Placa de Catedral, we stood on our balcony and watched the crowds walk by. The weather has been fantastic in Barcelona.  It's been a little rainy at times, but warm.  At Christmas time the energy is very cool, renewed almost, as hordes of tourists come from all over Europe for a quick Christmas getaway to a city that’s relatively warm.

Goofing off in front of the camera, as usual!

The weather was so fine on the day Ries came in that we spent the majority of the day walking arm in arm, playing in the streets of Ciutat Vella, the Barri Gotico, and Riberia.

We ate bocadillos standing up against a sunny wall, and then meandered in the direction of the Maremagnum at the Port. I was hoping that my friend, the artist Vincent Miro, would be in his usual spot, and lo and behold he was! I surprised him a little I think, and asked him if he remembered me. He gleefully told me that of course he did, and we gave one another a warm hug and kisses to both cheeks. I then introduced him to Reis, and they started to chat in French. It was really nice for me to introduce Ries to Vincent. I am so fond of our friendship and of course I love his art work.  It’s funny: the last time I spoke with Vincent I had to pull out my dictionary many times in order for us to complete the conversation. And I also didn’t understand much of what he said to me. This time, I understood everything and we chatted easily together. It was great to see him again, and I’m glad I got the chance to say “hasta luego” to him. After that, Ries and I continued strolling around the Port and at one point just felt like sitting and hanging out in the sunshine. Finding a bench on a busy, busy December Day would normally have been impossible, but both of us spotted a vacant spot smack dab in between two other couples. Reis was like “Quick, before someone else gets there!”, and I giggled and took him by the hand, saying “Run!” And with that we sprinted over to the bench and plopped ourselves down on it, laughing outloud and saying "You don't mind if we sit here do you??", shocking and surprising both of the couples on either side of us. A minute later they were smiling with us. We were totally oblivious to the scene we had just caused. Being that we’re both Elementals, it’s clear that we like to laugh and have fun, and can probably seem a little over the top when we’re together. We sat in the sun and whispered to one another, talked about our feelings, our fears, and the sun just kept beating down on us. It was a perfect afternoon. I had to keep reminding myself that it was the end of December! Then, almost at the same time, we decided it was time to keep on moving (it is difficult for two fairies to sit still for very long). We left the sunny bench in the Port to just let our feet take us wherever they wanted for the remainder of the afternoon. I showed him the little square that was infamous for the executions back in the 30’s, and he showed me a perfect, very out of the way place where he wanted to go for dinner later on. But our senses were heightened and we were kids in a candy story, marveling at all that beautiful Barcelona has to offer. Such a great city this is!

We wandered aimlessly, laughing and joking and getting reacquainted, until we got hungry again. I can’t tell you what time that was because, like it was for us in Amsterdam, the time just seemed to slip away. We seem to go by the sun first and secondly by our growling stomachs! All else is totally unplanned. We found our way back to one of the tapas bars that we went to the very first time we met in Barcelona, Bilbao Berria.

http://www.bilbaoberria.com/

Being back there with him was super special. And he still preferred to eat tuna, while I went back to munching on asparagus wrapped in bacon. Our conversation was ever changing. We both had decided that we were going to take a good look at our relationship when we met in Barcelona, and so sometimes it was difficult. It’s not easy to be real, to express exactly what you want and how you feel with someone who you don’t know very well. It takes a lot of work and perseverance. And most of all it takes a great desire of each person to want get to know one another. So there were moments that were difficult, where we had to choose our words carefully to hopefully ensure the other person understood what we meant. This is even more of an issue for Ries who speaks English at an advanced level. He sometimes needs to take more time to search for the appropriate word. But if he’s got something to say then I definitely want to hear about it. It is such a treat being with a man who wants you to get to know him and opens himself up enough so that you can, and who wants equally to get to know you. So we put a lot of energy into communicating with one another. But right after the intense moments, there were moments that were super fun. Ries is a man who knows how to laugh at himself, and who knows that that having fun is equally as important as the hard work and intensity that goes into building a true relationship. In this department, we definitely have the same attitude, and I think he is super refreshing, intelligent, and funny.

On the way back to our hotel for a siesta, we stopped to listen to the 3 piece band that was playing in the street close to our hotel. Suddenly, Ries grabbed me by the hand and spun me around in a dramatic gesture, wanting to dance. I laughed out loud and followed his moves, and we danced arm in arm in the middle of the street, crowds of people being forced to maneuver around us, and we didn’t care what anyone thought of us. When we looked around a few minutes later, several other couples had followed suit. There we all were, dancing in the streets of Barcelona on a sunny, warm afternoon in late December. Fantastico!

Ries wanted to take me to this restaurant called Cuatro Gats, which actually was only just around the corner from our hotel. Cuatro Gats is a modernista restaurant that has been open since the late 1800’s. Complete with a piano player and violinist, Cuatro Gats was created to be a tavern that offered affordable meals and live music, and was said to be frequented by Picasso, Gaudi, and other bohemian type artists, musicians, and architects. The food was awesome, the ambiance even more awesome. I think we must have dined there for at least 3 hours, enjoying each other’s company, talking, drinking rose wine, and applauding the pianist. Heck, we would have gotten up and started dancing together again had there been room enough in the crowded restaurant for that.

http://www.4gats.com/

Cuatro Gats!

I put my foot in my mouth just a little after dinner though.  I suggested we "go Dutch", and then instantly realized what I'd said.  Both my hands flew to my mouth, and Ries was like "what's that?  Go Dutch?", and I couldn't help it, I started laughing and apologizing at the same time. Couldn't believe I said that!  ha ha!

After dinner and tipsy from a bit too much rose, we went back to the hotel room and sang Christmas carols and lyrics from special songs that we could each remember, me singing some of the classic songs from the movie Moulin Rouge, him sharing his favourite tunes by logging into youtube. I admit I didn’t recognize too many of his favourites. Such different worlds we live in, Canada and Holland.

When Ries and I are together, we can’t rest. The entire time we’re just running on each other’s energy. This weekend was no different.  These past couple of days together have been fun and very eye-opening for us. We discovered little quirky idiosyncracies about one another.

Ries, you always make me laugh!

For instance, Ries hates to use a blanket offered by the hotel and visually cringes when he thinks that someone else may have used the same one. He grosses out when holding on to the bars riding on the metro, even though you're supposed to hold them. I think that is totally hilarious! But he finds me equally as quirky. Like how I need to pull all the sheets and blankets free from the bed so that my toes can move freely when I'm sleeping, or how I will trip over the same garbage can in our room and stub my baby toe three times before actually thinking to move it out of the way.  He laughed at me after the third time, while I winced and swore like a truck driver.

The next morning, and on very little sleep, we pulled ourselves out of bed to appease our growling stomachs, and to start the day that I had promised would have to be firstly about administration. We went to a little restaurant across the Placa and drank too many café solos and had a nice breakfast. Ries browsed over his favourite English newspaper, while I read through the columns of a Spanish one, something I’ve now grown fond of doing. After breakfast I was on a mission. I needed and wanted to get the last of my packing out of the way so that I could spend the remainder of my time with him in Barcelona having fun – not having responsibilities. I took him out to my barrio, Eixample Derecha, via metro. While waiting for our train, Ries again spontaneously took me in his arms and started dancing some sort of Dutch waltz, as if he’d heard the melody that just popped into his head and needed to follow it. I fell in step with him instantly, and there we were on the platform at the metro station dancing arm in arm all the way from one end to the other, him saying “one, two, and three… one, two, and three…” and me alternating counting with him and giggling at the same time, concentrating on the steps. Playtime is all the time wherever Ries is concerned, and I like it! I looked up and caught a woman with a big grin across her face starring at us. Ha!  We got off at Sagrada Familia and walked the route that I used to take to my Spanish classes everyday. He wanted to see what my life was like, and I was touched by this little touch of sentimentalism. Ries has a fantastic way of showing me that he respects my journey. He asks me lots of questions about myself, my views, and the ways I’ve come to be the person I am. I really dig that. And let’s be honest: who wouldn’t?

I love those shoes!

We grabbed my two large bags for mailing and went and stood in line at the Correo (post office), and things went relatively smoothly. The clerk suggested that I wrap paper around my packages, so I had to sit on the floor at the post office taping up my bags. If it wasn’t for Reis’s help I could have made a real mess of things, trying to wrap up a 15 kg bag to send back to Valencia, and a smaller one to Vancouver. He was very adamant about helping me out. At one point I almost flipped out on him, but instead reined in on that old habit and said “Please Ries, this is my ‘stuff’ and I need to take care of it in my way…” He nodded his understanding and took a step back, and let me lead my own way through my administrative stuff. He supported me by being there to back me if I needed it, and well, physically he helped me because the bags were kind of big. And then he only stepped in when he absolutely saw that things could be done in a better way. It’s hard, I have a lot of pride and I’m stubborn. So sometimes I don’t want to hear or see things in other ways, ways that actually could be wiser. But I’m proud of myself too, for having taken care of all my “crap” while being over here and for having done it MY way. But a man likes to help. What kind of a woman would take that basic need away from him?

After the post office, we briefly went back to my little apartment on Calle de Corcega to say “Adios” to Pam, and to hand back my keys to her. I will miss Pam – she is a good friend of mine now. She knows me in a way that none of my friends in Vancouver could know me. She has been there during the deliciously magical time in my life. She is special.

Back at the hotel, we had the intention of taking a siesta and chilling out from our “administrative” morning, but did that happen? Of course not! We couldn’t stop talking with one another, playing music, sharing stories, goofing and laughing. And with all the energy between us still waiting to be unleashed, we threw on our boots and went out for another full day and evening of strolling through the streets of the Barri Gothic. I have tons of pictures to prove it!

The Barri Gotico

Ries showed me the Palau de Musica, and I was so impressed by it. By the time we got there it was closed, but we got some great pictures of the exterior. What a striking building. Fantastic!

At the Palau de Musica

After hours of walking hand in hand through Barcelona together, and running on very little sleep, I was just about ready to crash by the time we got back to our hotel. But of course we were hungry. Again. So we gathered up the last of our momentum and went and found yet another place we knew, Café Schilling. This is a great little bar where Ries and I chatted long into the night the first time we met here in Barcelona, and we were squealing like two little kids when we found it again. We grabbed a seat at the bar, him drinking Heinecken and me taking Cava for a change. We ordered hamburgers and danced in our seats to the funky house music they were playing. We mingled with the couple from Jordan sitting beside us. We flirted, we laughed, we imagined ourselves being a part of one another’s future. We giggled, we cried, we felt insignificant and special all at the same time. This is what our entire time together consisted of. I am alive when I’m with Ries. I know I said it before, but I need to say it again. He taught me how to love again, and made me realize that it is totally possible to mend a broken heart. At a time when I was beginning to wonder whether it would be possible for me to ever feel anything for anyone ever again, he is a blessed gift to my life, and a well-deserved addition to my heart.

This morning when we said our goodbyes, we got misty-eyed but we didn’t cry. I think we were just too darn happy to cry, or at least I was. What a fantastic time we’ve spent together. In the future, I know that whatever time I do get to spend with Ries will be magical, intense, deeply genuine, energizing, and a ton of fun. There isn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t want this kind of romance in her life again. He makes me feel strong, and he reminds me that I am totally capable of having brighter days in front of me.

Gracias Ries por todo! Te quiero mucho.

Charleen xoxo

Christmas in Valencia

I was blessed with warm, sunny weather on Christmas Day in Valencia. Like the Gods and Goddesses had answered my wish to go for a long bike ride by the beaches to celebrate Christmas in my own way, to give my respects to the Mediterranean, and, of course, to fully enjoy some of the best parts of Valencia – the beaches.

My one roommate, Paolo, had already left for Sardenia, and my other roommate, Mirabel, was celebrating Christmas with her family who live in Valencia. Manu was working Christmas Day, so I had a very quiet, calm, and peaceful last day in Valencia. Lots of people were out walking the foot path that runs along side the beaches, enjoying the day with their families. Check out the youtube video below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sx1fS7EeltM

I parked my bike and walked down to the water, which wasn’t too cold considering its December. I threw some wet sand back at the sea and promised to be back as soon as I could. Then I got back on my bike and peddled out to one of my favourite gems – Café Azul at the end of the marina. Secluded, sexy, and sunny.

When I got home Manu was just getting off work, so we cooked dinner together, and ate a little more than usual – the standard Christmas fair: crackers, cheese, chorizo sausage from Ibiza, and we drank cava and claras. ‘Tis the season!  Then we watched a Christmas music special on TV – I’ve gotten used to watching Spanish TV and reading Spanish newspapers. Can’t believe I’m throwing myself back into English just when I’m starting to really attach to the Spanish language… oh well. That’s what personal Skype classes with my professoras are for, right? I actually got to watch David Bisbal live on TV – he is the latest hunky superstar to emerge from Spain, and is currently living in Miami I believe.  I've been drooling over his photos ever since I arrived in Espana.  His music is just okay to be honest, but I don’t care about that. Heck, he doesn’t have to sing good to look good! Schwing!! I took a video of him on TV. Pant Pant…he can eat crackers in my bed.  I wouldn't mind at all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUQoc37TIo0

I skyped with my family – everyone was at home in Cranbrook at my mom and dad’s place for the holidays, and it was so awesome to see everyone all in one sitting! I even got to talk with two of my nieces and one of my nephews. In those moments, as simple as they are, I have to really wonder how life can possibly get any better. Everyone was gathered around the computer to skype with me and I felt like I was actually there with them,-20 outside but the fire burning inside, cracking jokes, playing games, singing carols, and eating and drinking lots of yummy Christmas type foods and beverages. At the end of my call everyone cleared out of the room and left my mom there to chat with me for a bit, wearing her Christmas apron and proud of her turkey that was in the oven and the vegetables done. For some reason out of the blue I swelled up with tears right there on the computer, and I sobbed “Mom, I love you!” And of course as my mom always does when one of her children is crying, she got teary-eyed too. I am lucky to have the family that I have.

It felt very unreal to get up on Boxing Day to catch the train back to Barcelona with all my stuff. Believe me when I say that I am always this ---- close to not catching my flight back to Canada. I’ve left some things back at home in Valencia to ensure I return there for them, but also because I just can’t take it all back with me! I have no room in my suitcases! Ack!

I don't say that I am coming home to Canada.  I just say that I am going back to Canada.  Spain is my home now. 

And now I’m back in Barcelona, which is very different in both energy and look to Valencia. But that will be my next posting.

Felices!
Charleen

Heavy Decision

So it is decided.  After many days of sitting on pins and needles, I've finally done it. I've made a decision, and it was a very hard one for me to make.  I'm going back to Vancouver.

There is a TESL course that starts there on January 4, 2010, and I'm going to throw myself into it like there's no tomorrow.  I am choosing to do the course in Vancouver for two very simple reasons:

1)  The course starts NOW and will be finished by the end of January.  It will be super intense.  The course here in Valencia starts middle of February and won't be over till middle of March.  That would mean another 3 or so months before I feel like I'm actually getting going.  And I didn't like that.  Strike 1.

2)  The course in Vancouver is in CDN dollars, not euros.  The course in Valencia will cost almost twice as much after exchange.  Damn euro!  I didn't like that either.  Strike 2.

And that basically sums it up.  Plain and simple.

It was a difficult decision because I don't want to come back to Vancouver.  I'm not ready.  And I don't want to set foot on that cold continent called Canada any time soon.  And I was holding out, being stubborn, letting my pride get the best of me.  My time in Valencia, and Spain as a whole, has been nothing short of amazing.  But I am coming back, and doing the course in Vancouver straight away ensures that I'm going to get my game on now, not later. 

Valencia feels incredible to me - like an old sweater, it just fits perfectly and feels good, even though, of course, it's not perfect.  Meaning: I can continue to try every month to try to get my work permit here, and it may very well never happen.  I know that being an English teacher doesn't guarantee me anything really, but it's a better option than what I have now.  And it gives me all the reason I need to choose this route.

But we shall see, as Ries says.  We shall see.  And on the topic of Ries, I know many of you have been wondering, so I will tell you:  He is nothing short of amazing.  I am in love.  And that is all I can say right now so please don't ask.  We don't know what the future holds.  We shall see.

And wouldn't you know it, just as I've now decided to go back to Canada, things are starting to look even better here in Valencia.  I met a handful of people at the Metropolitan Christmas Party (truth be known my main reason for going was to get out and meet some Valencianos), and I've been out a couple of times just in the last week and have seen even more of this very cool city.  So I have a few connections now.  They are all good people.  And you know what?  WE SPEAK SPANISH!!  Yep.  Me.  Speaking Spanish.  I'm loving it.  Like I said, I'm still not very good, but I'm at the point now where I'm really enjoying making an attempt to speak properly, learning more vocabulary, and actually hearing the words now.  Such fun!  I've always been really interested in languages.

So this afternoon I am preparing my bags to head to back Barcelona on the 26th for a few days before I fly to Vancouver on the 30th.  I've got my room in Barcelona still, and it needs packing.  I hate packing.  I am too comfortable here to pack.  But I came into my room this afternoon resolved to get a head start on it.  What happened instead?  I almost had a melt down is what happened!  Good grief!  What the hell am I doing???  Did I make the right decision?  Will all go well?  What if what if what if what if???  So instead of packing, I've come to my computer once again, to my blogspot, to pound it out on this keyboard.  AND I've put on the latest Armin Van Buuren cd.  I thought it would make me feel better, but instead I'm having flashbacks to my weekend in Amsterdam with Ries and missing him now even more.  Am I really taking myself way the hell over to another continent, even farther away from him?  Well shoot.  I guess I am.

The weather here is awesome.  It is raining a bit, but super warm.  Last night, get this, I was out for a cerveza in the University district (such a cool barrio!) and the temperature was 20 degrees!  That's right.  It was December 23 and 20 degrees.  I had to take my coat off, and I sat outside like it was a regular summer evening, I did.  It's not like that every day, but what I'm trying to say is that the weather patterns here are so different than I'm accustomed to in cold, rainy Vancouver.  There have been a couple of really chilly days, days that make you seriously curse the Spanish for not building apartments with central heating.  But then you get a nice reprieve and it'll heat up to 20. Today it's 17, high clouds, and it rained a little this morning.  My umbrella got slightly damp.  ha!  I think I can handle this, don't you?

I know I can.

So this is my final respect to Valencia, the city that became my home.  A city that I wasn't even aware of before October.  The city that did nothing but encourage me, strengthen me, and enlighten me.  Whose people did nothing but show me warmth and kindness, and whose hearts are as warm as the Catalan sun in July.  Well, make that the "Valencian" sun.  I will be back!

Feliz Navidad a todos!
Charleen xo

Changing Plans

This weekend the weather was strange all across Europe.  On Friday, I went to the airport to catch a 7:00 a.m. flight to Sevilla - I was really looking forward to it.  But the flight kept on getting delayed due to fog.  I had also had difficulties with my ticket before that - twice I discovered that Iberia actually hadn't issued me a ticket, and then had to quickly put on my Administration cap to get it all sorted out again.  So then with the fog and the delays, I considered this a heavy third strike.  So rather than waiting around at the airport all day, I cancelled my ticket and went home.  When I got home I looked at flights again, thinking maybe I'd take another one, but all the flights to Sevilla had been cancelled.  So that's that.  I didn't get there this past weekend.  But I will.  Maybe even soon?

Another set of Towers in Valencia - they're all over the place!  Love it!

So I had a Valencian weekend.  Thursday night I did get to the Club Metropolitan Christmas Party, and it was actually pretty good.  They had two DJ's, and everyone was dressed up and drinking hard.  It was fun!  It was great to see everyone looking and acting twinkly, sans biking shorts and sweaty towels!  I couldn't help but notice that I've become quite good at going out on my own now, and walking into a hotel ballroom full of beautiful Spanish people all by myself and holding my own all night long is quite something, don't you think?  I spoke Spanish all night long, I understood everyone, and everyone understood me.  My Spanish isn't that great, and my vocabulary sucks, but somehow I must be getting better at it and that is something I am proud of.  It's nice for me to sit back and take a good look at that.  Wild!   

Cutting through Barrio del Carmen - the old historic centre

I went for a long walk on Saturday with Manu.  My mission was to buy a book on "Practical English Usage and Grammar".  Can't believe I'm spending my money on such a dry read.  The sun came out and warmed us up, and we ended up wandering through the city on foot.  He took me to this cafe/bar in the centre that has been there for almost 50 years, and is the best place in Valencia to get Calamari Sandwiches.  I had never heard of them, but apparently they are popular here, and this little place is the most famous of them all!  It was cool.  Of course I had to have one, and a Clara to go with! 

Delicious!  Heart Attack on a plate! 

Thank goodness I don't eat these everyday!

Then on Saturday night I went out with Monica, my friend from Chile.  We went out for dinner with a couple of other ladies, then went to a very packed bar, and finally her and I hit Pacha.  The music was just okay, and not nearly as spectacular as the one in Ibiza.  I guess I've turned into a bit of a snob now, because going out to a regular night club on a regular Saturday night really doesn't impress me anymore.  My desire to dance and let loose every now and then is really the only thing that still hasn't changed about me, and probably never will change.  I will always like the excitement that comes with going out with a girlfriend(s) on a Saturday night, getting dressed up, people watching, acting silly, laughing, dancing...and anyways, we had fun and it was good to hang out with a girlfriend for a change.  She and I both agree that the men are way too crazy for us, and we joked and commented about it all the way home afterwards.  Of course it's standard at a Spanish nightclub: more cigarette smoke (enough that our eyes were stinging and we couldn't breathe properly), and the usual chore of dealing with having some guy's tongue jammed down my throat.  Seriously.  You might ask how it is that I even get close enough to a guy to have him jam his tongue down my throat.  But this is the point: I don't!  I'm moving through the crowd, it's packed, I say "Hola", they say "Hola" back, and then they put their arms around my waist, forcing me to stop just long enough that they can ask me a couple of key questions, like "are you single?".  And when I say "yes", they say "do you want to come home with me tonight and have sex?"... gawd!  Just dive right in, eh buddy?  Whatever happened to the romance?  What happened to creating an art in flirting?  Good grief!

Monica 'n' Me

They did this to Monica too, so I know it's not just something I'm giving off.  It's the men!  As I try to slip away after literally only a few moments, they'll lean in for a kiss, which I try to avoid and reach for their cheeks instead, but they somehow still manage to jam their lizard-like tongues in my mouth, in my ear, all over my neck, wherever.  It is gross.  And it seems to be almost rampant - they all do it.  I wonder how the Spanish women put up with it.  I suppose they think its standard....oooohkay.

Sunday I stayed at home all day in my room with the heater on.  It's gotten cold the last couple of days and the majority of the buildings in Spain don't have central heating.  So we all use these portable electric heaters that we keep in our rooms. Walking into the kitchen is a feat - there's no heater in there and I almost have to put on a coat just to prepare myself a meal!  You think I'm exaggerating?  I promise you that I'm not.  Not even one little bit!  So yesterday I was quite happy to sit quietly, as I needed to do some hard work.  Decision making kind of stuff.  Have I settled on a decision?  No, not for sure.  I'm leaning slightly more to one side now, that's all.  I put in an emergency call to my ex-husband and woke him up at 5:30 in the morning, Vancouver time.  I was ready to implode on myself and had to do something!  Even though I have changed a lot in the past year, he is still possibly the only person on the planet who knows my deepest feelings and fears, and he's made acquaintances with all of the ghosts in my closet.  (Funny how we're never afraid of someone else's ghosts, huh?)  So I discussed things with him for nearly an hour, and after the conversation I was calm once again.  Sometimes I just need to really bash it out with someone, I mean beat that issue down until it doesn't bother me anymore, until I've worked the kinks and bumps out of it so that it looks like silk.  Like kneading a ball of stiff dough until it's smooth and soft enough to bake a loaf of bread, it's still the same issue but is somehow easier to work with, and maybe doesn't even look as bad any longer, you know?  There is a good chance that I may be back in Vancouver for the New Years... and I don't even like to say it.  I've become a part of this country.  The rhythm and beat are for me.  I realize I will have to deal with my "issues" no matter where I'm living.  Some places are easier though, and living here has been nothing short of wonderful.  I can't say much more on this right now, but either decision I choose I will be taking a TESL/CELTA certification course.  That fact is certain.  Hence my new "Practical English Usage" book! 

Last night Manu, Paolo, Paolo's girlfriend Mirabel, and I went to the new 3-D movie Avatar.  If you haven't had a chance to see this movie in 3-D, might I suggest you get on it pronto??  It's fantastic!  The jungle leaves and bushes were pushed up right beside me in my chair, and starry floating bugs drifted in the air past my shoulders... it was so incredible!  The music and sound effects are awesome, and of course the movie itself is animated genius, but what really hit home for me was how the story line crossed over so many themes: from adventure to war to love to spirituality to high tech to tribalism to global activism to really feeling how interconnected we all are... it was fantastic and super touching.  It is fantasy, but there are so many truths to it, and in many ways it's how I'd like to live, or actually think we should live.  I liked how one of the greatest things they said was "I See You" (Te Veo).  It's like saying "Namaste", or "The God in Me Acknowledges the God in You"; a mutual respect and admiration, and acknowledgment that we are one with everything, inter-connected, strong, and so much bigger than just this little human body that we are housed in.  You have to see this movie!  And do it in 3-D.  I don't want to hear any excuses now...

And I watched it in Spanish, too! 

I realize that it is only a few days before Christmas.  The fact that I'm not preparing for it at all this year is something that needs mentioning.  How stressful Christmas always was for me - all the partying and preparations, sending out gifts across the country, making sure everything was organized and prepared for that One Big Day.  I do really like Christmas - I like the merriment around the holidays, I like singing carols, and I like putting up bright lights and sitting warm in front of the fire place.  But now let's be honest: that was something that I did just last year and times have changed.  So maybe it's good for me to let this Christmas just pass me by?  The memories of going out and choosing a Christmas tree, setting up a little Christmas Street scene on the mantle above the fire place, decorating the house (mistle toe to boot!), buying the groceries to make all the special delicious dishes and tasty baked goods, remembering how much it snowed last year at Christmas, changing our plans last minute from heading up to Whistler (the highways were closed, remember?) to doing a potluck dinner over at Sophie's place, to even the smallest of details, like how wonderful it felt slipping a gift under the tree for the man I loved...are these warm memories for me now?  No, they're not very heartwarming I admit.  So this year I'm not doing a thing for Christmas, and being in Spain seems the perfect place to let go of it all.  I think I'll ride my bike past the beaches on Christmas Day instead. 

I'm enjoying the tempo here in Espana.  And as I write this last line in this blog post, I am very much looking forward to having yet another delicious cafe solo, which I'm going to head out right now and get!  :)

Charleen xo

This and That

A sunny spot to write on a random Valencian afternoon in December.

This post is going to be primarily photos and youtube links to share a bit of my daily life here in Valencia. 

Today I rode my bike through the Jardines del Turia again.  The sun was shining and the cool breeze was on my face, and suddenly I felt this huge rush of happiness charge right through me.  I tossed my head back, and with a big smile across my face I exhaled a massive sigh of relief and gratitude!  I just felt so completely friggin' happy!  And most importantly, I felt peace.  What a great city this is.  Since I've come to live here I've opened up a lot more and let go of a lot, too.  And I've done a lot of healing, a lot of getting clear.  One of the things I've just started to realize is the value in letting go of everything, of emptying yourself completely.  I can only speak from my own personal experiences, but what I've discovered is there seems to be a positive side to sadness, grief, and de-pression.  It's a DEcomPRESSION that happens on a psychological level, but seems to be necessary in order to build yourself up again.  After that, you're only a shell of the person you were before.  But inside, you're free and clear to start to fill yourself up with the things that make up and honour the new you.  At least that's how it looks to me.  Does that make sense?  So where I felt trapped and locked down before, now there is starting to be this awesome space, freedom, and tons of movement.  It's true that this period of letting go was pretty much forced on me, but now I'm free to recreate myself in any way I choose. 

I've started to really get into my writing and am truely fulfilled by it. It's almost as if my attitude is reflected by the open air, sunshine, exercise, and friendly people here in Valencia.  I'm really enjoying living here, and it seems to be exactly what the doctor ordered.  Basically put: Valencia rocks!  I hope you enjoy my life!

Roasted Castanas (chestnuts) for sale in Plaza de la Virgen

Plaza de la Virgen, a very cool place to hang out and have a cafe con leche, soak up the sun, and people watch.

The road to my barrie (side of town), Benimaclet, just across the Del Turia. 

I've either walked or rode my bike down it almost every day.

My street! 

This video is of my home at Padre Urbano 45, Valencia!  Taken Saturday, December 12, 2009. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJ8MJUi2mRE

 

My roommates, Manu and Paolo (Mabel wasn't home when this picture was taken). 

For lunch: Paella. mmm!

 

Club Metropolitan - the gym I go to on the other side of town. 

It takes about 25 minutes at a fast peddle to ride my bike there, but it's totally worth it!

Inside Club Metropolitan - it's about 2:00 in the afternoon, siesta has just started. 

The gym gets super busy around siesta. 

I did always prefer a daytime workout...

Spin and sweat your ars off! 

The super HOT Tuesday afternoon spinning class I love going to! 

Thursday classes are awesome too! 

This video is of the spinning class I went to today.  

Watch it, and then just try and tell me you don't feel good!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoMFa-2XcTk

Uh... my top is supposed to be light blue?!  I'm drenched!! 

What a fantastic class!

Plaza Alfonso el Magnanimo - Calle de Colon y Calle Grabador Esteve, Valencia

Old mixes with new!

There is so much history in this city!

This is a short video of the centre of Valencia on Calle de Colon -

just to show you how cool it is!  Taken just this afternoon!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIKThg9JadI

(And I'm just going to leave you with one more video - not of Valencia but of the concert in Amsterdam.  I know it has nothing to do with my life in Valencia, but I'm still on a high from that experience!  My apologies: I had my thumb on the microphone!  whoopsie... )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKAwrTJV35s

On Thursday night there is another Meetup Group, but I think I may opt out and go to the Club Metropolitan Christmas party instead. Then on Friday morning bright and early I'm heading to Seville! I can't wait! Don Juan, here I come! :)

Charleen xo

Rain Comes To Valencia

Last night I had plans to go out with a new friend of mine, Monica from Chile, who I’d met at the weekly Meetup Group that I’ve been going to. We’d been planning it for a couple of weeks and I was really looking forward to it. Much to my disappointment though, late yesterday I developed a whopping headache and had to cancel my evening with her. It is too bad because the nightlife in Valencia is something I want to experience a lot more of, and Monica is someone who I recognized right away as a kindred spirit and who I knew I’d have a good time with.

Valencia in December.  So hard to take.

The headache from hell started while I was out at the train station preparing my return ticket to Barcelona. On my way home I was thinking “hmmm…what’s that feeling I’m starting to have… I don’t like it…”, and by the time I got back to the apartment my head was throbbing.  With my defenses down, I started getting upset about the things that I have no control over. Namely: my ex.  Between him and I there still lay some “administrative” matters, and they tie me to him even if I don’t want to be tied anymore.  So, for example, when I send an email asking him a question and after two days I still haven’t received an answer, I get pissed.  In his defense, from the little communication we have had I know that he has been swamped at work and I’m certain he isn't really trying to anger me.  He is a good man and the deeper part of me knows this.  However, the ego part of me, the undeveloped, childish part of me still continues to have her buttons pushed, and in this one regard it always feels like disrespect.  Knowing that his blackberry is always in his hand, to me it “seems” like he somehow answers everyone else right away and purposely holds off on answering me. Why?  Simply because it’s ME.  Or at least that’s how I see it, or used to see it anyways.  I've actually gotten much better at not jumping to such negative conclusions since having left Vancouver. But sometimes, and for no firm reason whatsoever, those old feelings of being out of control and utterly disrespected (and misunderstood) still come up for me.  And with a killer of a headache and just the right amount of lack of sleep, I turned into a crazy woman within a matter of moments.  My angry Italian Goddess emerged and crammed the air full of violent thunder storms and lightning bolts!  LOOK OUT!  I had a right Flip-Out Attack, I did.  Yup, I’m so cool, so cool that I wrote another email demanding to know why it seemed like he goes out of his way to piss me off, and what kind of a friend does he think he is to me, etc etc.  Then right at that moment, offended, upset, and feeling like my hands were endlessly bound, and my head pounding like a Japanese kettle drum, my wonderful Pisces friend, Manu, walked into my room.  He took one look at the twisted and pained expression on my face, and knew something was definitely up.  He said “What’s wrong?” and I said “LA PUERTA!” (basically: shut the f’n door or I’ll exterminate you!!), and then I lost all control.  I jumped into my bed and covered myself in the blankets, trying to hide away from the world that was caving in around me, and made everything worse by howling like a baby into my pillow.  Manu assumed a supportive post beside me on the bed and waited patiently for me to calm down, probably a good ten minutes or so, stroking my hair and not saying a thing.  I thought I was almost finished crying, and then another stream of anger and frustration would hit me, and I’d punch my pillow, crying “I fucking hate him. I fucking hate him…!” And this Pisces, he is so sensitive and wise that he just knows when it’s NOT okay to speak up.  And yesterday he let me have all the time I needed before he began to talk.  I tried to explain what was making me so upset.  With my limited Spanish vocabulary, I could give him only the basics. Infinitely intelligent, he understood completely without having to go into the fine details.  As only Manu can, he spoke quietly yet directly with me for a short time, me sniffling and wiping away the angry tears that wouldn’t stop falling, my nose plugged, my head ready to explode. In part, our conversation went something like this (in Spanish, of course):

• ME: (dramatically) I just don’t get it! I don’t! He has a blackberry, he receives my emails the instant I send them. And yet he doesn’t respond. He just waits and waits and waits... One line! That’s all it takes. Just one line! One second to send a quick response to me! 
• MANU: And tell me. What will happen to you if you have to wait one more day for a response from him? One more month maybe even? Will you be okay? Will you still live?
• ME: (already getting his point) Sniff. Yes.
• MANU: Then do not suffer one minute more because of him. He knows very well that it makes you angry when he doesn’t reply. But he thinks that you’re being dominant when you say something to him about it, and it is exactly what he doesn’t want, and so it is exactly why he won’t respond. 
• ME: (still angry) But that’s just it! I’m not being dominant! I just want respect! (pounding my pillow) This is MY LIFE. Damnit, I want to be free! Why won’t he just let me be free?!
• MANU: (smiling at me now) You are free. You are liberated. That is clear. You give yourself that freedom.  Not him.  Not anyone else.
• ME: I don’t want to play this stupid game anymore! 
• MANU: Listen, listen. Only you can choose how you will live your life, and only you can choose how you will respond to him. This is not really about him, because he is not a part of your life anymore. That part of your life is complete. This is now only about you. Responding this way to what he does, or what he doesn’t do, is not the only choice you have.
• ME: (quieter, holding my hand up and showing an inch of space between my thumb and pointer finger) I feel about this big now.
• MANU: You are not small. You are big.  
• ME: I’m bigger than he is!
• MANU: You are bigger than he is. You are wiser than he is. And the most important thing: you are more courageous than he is. 
• ME: Sniff. Yeah.

Manu has been for me what my one friend referred to as a “Bridge”; a person that helps you get to the other side.  I am eternally thankful for the day that I met him, for his friendship and for his wise words that calm me into believing in myself again.

Manu

And anyways, today the cramps in my lower abdominal area remind me that I have all the excuses I need to support my horrendous blow up yesterday. Tee hee.

 

Calle San Vincente Martir, Valencia

Also today, and worth noting, it is raining for the first time.  Now when I say raining, you should take this to mean “very light showers”, because that’s basically all it is. The weather here is nothing hard to handle at all, especially if you’re Canadian.  But it has finally changed, forcing me to turn on the portable heater in my room.  Ready for a fight with the wind and rain, a fight that never happened, I threw on my almost-winter coat, grabbed an umbrella, and went out in search of French toast. Yes, today I woke up to rain and a craving for French toast just like my dad used to make it.  And then I wanted the rye bread my mom used to bake, still warm and fresh out of the oven, slathered with peanut butter.  And I’m not talking about the organic kind of PB that has a couple inches of oil sitting on top that you have to stir in when you use it the first time and then keep in the refrigerator afterwards.  Oh no, I wanted the sweet, sticky peanut butter that you can lick right off the spoon like a lollipop.  Squirrel or Kraft, or some other brand equally unhealthy and full of preservatives.  Mmm!  My mouth watered at the thought of it!  Of course, neither of these two Canadian standards are available to me here in Valencia.  So what did I find instead?  PAELLA!  And of course a café solo.  This is my standard now.  Valencia’s claim to fame is their Paella, and it is admittedly very delicious!

One of the many soccer fields in the Jardines del Turia

While out walking the quiet Sunday streets of Valencia, I was thinking of what I wanted to write, the words coming to me and sparkling in my head like little falling stars, a picture here, and a phrase there.  They run through my mind like the reel of a movie. “Oh yes”, I think. “That’s good. I definitely have to write that!” With total devotion to my re-discovered passion for writing, back home I scurry to set myself down in front of my computer, anticipating the feeling of freedom I get, the flow, the joy to be able to express myself creatively in the way I’ve always needed to.

Drinking herbal tea to keep me warm and hydrated, I have the setting just right for a Writer.  It’s quiet and controlled in my room, with candles and incense lit and a south facing window to gaze out during moments of consideration and deep thought.  Ahh, if I could write for the rest of my days here on Earth I would be happy.  There is no point to my writing, no end result.  It is simply continuous, like the journey of one’s life, always unfolding and re-inventing itself over again.  My roommates are accustomed to seeing me firmly planted at my desk now, and they’ve stopped asking me what I’m doing.  To them it appears that I'm always “working”.  Working at something serious and purposeful that I’m actually getting paid for. (I wish!)  They know to leave me be when I’m sitting in front of my computer, typing away with a far-away look in my eyes.  It’s like my birth mom Sheila reminded me: most of the courageous artists (like Van Gogh) don’t have a lot of money, but they are creatively fulfilled.  What a choice to have to make, she said.  She then said how she thinks that men seem to be more courageous in this way, as they don’t seem to have that need for a nest and security… I could not have put it any better.  A Pisces as well, Sheila always hits the nail on the head when it comes to me, she understands life so deeply that her words hit home and actually give me peace.  Peace because I’m unable to express myself as simple as that, peace because in her words finally my feelings have found a home to rest, and rest in a way that really makes sense to me.  Thank you Sheila!

There are definitely some urgings, a bit of tugging on my sleeve that is trying to get me to look at the possibility of a stable life, the possibility of making money now instead of spending it, the chance to be prosperous and to re-create a new life for myself, sans husband.  I am both thrilled by the opportunity to build this life for myself, and deeply torn about whether or not to keep digging my heels in here in Spain, sticking it out till the very end when I will have no money or savings left, and ultimately no other choice but to come home.  And the hardest part is: how can I predict any of it?  How can I say where any path will lead once I've chosen a direction?  At almost 42 years of age, do I choose stability and sensibility, or freedom and flexibility?

Christmas in Valencia

I should mention that I did go to the Gestor’s office, the professionals who are “in the know” about paperwork and bureaucracy in this country.  He basically told me there was “no chance” for a Canadian to get a work permit right now.  He said this with a smile on his face, as if trying to provide lightness to a negative answer he had no other choice but to give. I asked what “right now” meant, and he said that it meant “this month”.  Not only is it about “right now”, it’s also about “where” you apply for a work permit.  If I were living in another town, maybe even a village with fewer foreigners, the police very well could stamp my paperwork and in an instant I’d have my work permit.  It could be almost as simple as snapping your fingers. But I think it is a numbers game.  Perhaps Valencia has already hit its quota of handing out work permits to people other than European citizens, who get one without hesitation.  But for now, I can pretty much dream on.  Still, I paid him 10 Euros to take my simple application to the authorities, and by tomorrow I will know whether they have accepted it or not.  Of course, as he mentioned, January may be a completely different situation.  March could also be a completely different situation.  There is no way of knowing, no way to predict how they might respond to my request, or when it might be most advantageous for me to submit an application.  But if and when they do give me their stamp of approval, it will cost me a minimum 180 Euros just for that one official stamp.  After that there will be more paperwork which the Gestor could fill out and take to the proper office on my behalf, and then even more money will have to be handed over for the privilege and comfort of not having to deal with it all myself.  As I’ve mentioned before, nothing is set in stone.  And that goes for the multiple systems and official procedures that are supposedly in place in this country.  So it won’t be easy.  But I have persistence on my side; Stubborn is my middle name.  I don’t mind going back every month and paying 10 Euros to have him submit a form on my behalf.  Whatever it takes, baby.  Whatever it takes.

There are a couple of distinct directions my life could go in right now, yet I cannot bring myself to hit that “send” button.  Not a bone in my body will let me hit “apply now” until I know for certain.  How will I know for certain? Well, my body will give me the signal.  The pit of my stomach will know first, and then that kind voice will speak firmly in my right ear, saying “GO NOW!”  And then I will know.  So the next two weeks will be very telling, and at the same time I think I’m learning the patience game really well and I’m lining up some pretty cool looking ducks.  The one that floats the longest will be my true friend.  And the way I’m setting it up, I’ve got some good choices in ducks.  And finally after all these months, I've got the emotional and mental strength to line them up in the first place!

And while I’m waiting patiently for time to sort itself out, I’m going to look into taking a quick trip to Seville. Why, I think I’m going to start doing that right now actually.  Join me? 
 
Charleen xo