Consequently, my time seems to be filled with waiting.
Waiting to leave the apartment.
Waiting for the bus.
Waiting for the taxi.
Later, when we start to walk towards Carrer Escorial to catch a taxi, at least 5 taxis pass by us. Their little square green unoccupied lights on, silently signaling that they are available for hire. Nevertheless, by the time we arrive at the corner, no taxis are in sight.
We will wait
Eventually, we will wait about 5 minutes. This has become a pattern for us. The school of thought is that when you don’t need a taxi, there are plenty, but when you do, you must wait.
When we shop for groceries at the market, we wait in line to pay. We do our food shopping almost every day.
We walk down the hill to have a coffee or visit a farmacia.
We wait for the bus to take us back up the hill. We wait in a line. Esperar en la fila.
After entering our building, we wait for the elevator to take us up to our third-floor apartment.
In our kitchen, we wait to unload the groceries from the shopping bags.
After doing the laundry, we wait for the washing machine to finish. Then we are waiting to hang the wet laundry on the portable dryer rack.
In our kitchen
We spend a lot of our day waiting. I can now wait patiently. Waiting, I believe, is an acquired skill.
In all probability, I have been an impatient person for most of my life. Nowadays, I am finding there is a luxury in waiting and how it makes you feel. Very quiet and confortable.
Certainly, we do’nt work anymore, as we are retired a few years ago, this absence allows of daily work allows us the time to slow down.
As time moves slowly, even the smallest details take on greater significance and depth.
Occasionally, I revert to being an impatient non-waiter.
Luckily, while living in Barcelona, I have learned to wait patiently.
I can even wait in a line!
I can even wait in a line.
It’s a very Spanish thing to do.
Argentinians practice this too.
Waiting in lines.
To wait. To wait. To wait.
The Spanish people who wait are mostly patient and gentle folks. These folks get upset when harsh or loud voices are used.
The reaction to a loud harsh voice is utter confusion. It’s this vocalization that creates utter chaos and confusion for many Spaniards.
They are not impatient people.
They are not an impatient people. They are very patient and helpful.
Absolutely unwavering in their commitment to enjoy their lives and their families.
They are courteous people except on the street, where they might walk into you and never as much as say “pardon me, desculpeme, or excuse me”.
These people are usually fast and intentful walkers and talkers. The clack-clack of leather boots on the sidewalk is very familiar. Generally, with all the rain we are experiencing, feet are divided into sneakers and boots. People wear all sorts of boots here, from cowboy boots to over-the-knee high-heeled boots. The way people walk mirrors the sound their boots make on the street. Some sounds are sharp, while others are thuds.
There is much conversation
There is much conversation on the street. Enthusiastic voices talking about their day, the weather, and their lives.
But create a loud, undignified shout-out noise.
Boom.
You get this look of hurt, the look representing the words, Are you a crazy person doing this horrible and uncomfortable action?
Spaniards don’t like to be uncomfortable.
Spaniards don’t like to be uncomfortable.
Spaniards love their families and their food. Not sure which is a greater passion. On a recent Sunday, we stopped by one of our favorite neighborhood cafes about four blocks away in a small square.
The were tables set. There were many butane barbecues with people cooking sausages or calcotadas [green onions]. Lots of beans in huge bowls. White tents covering the other food stations.
The white banner stretched
The white banner stretched above the barbecue station, declaring this was a fundraiser for the upcoming big festival in March.
Mothers gathered with their babies in strollers, dancing to the music blasting from the speakers. Children ran free. Men huddled in groups, talking, waiting for the food to be ready.
All the tables were packed. Mothers with sons. Lovers out for a leisurely brunch. Families with children in strollers. Lots of co-workers are sitting at the larger tables.
As my Spanish language skills progressed, I could follow many conversations. People chat about either family members or their work schedule. Mostly chatting about the inane. The weather, the Euro, or Trump. The local language is Catalan, which sounds very lispy, and I am starting to understand more of the words.
Listening is another acquired skill.
What surprises me about my eavesdropping is how many languages I hear and understand. This builds my confidence. As a constant learner, I always try to learn new words.
My partner, Maximo Miguel, speaks Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, and Catan and is currently learning English.
We have conversations speaking
We have conversations speaking in many different languages.
Ultimately, language is for communication. My grammar needs work.
Serendipitously, most people understand my Spanish Argentinese.
Continuing to wait and learn while living in Barcelona is very sweet experience.
Abrazo
Ruth
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