Warning: I romantize a lot in this post...
The day started out pretty well, all things considered. I went to school, gave classes (including a copycat move from Ms. Hyvrard - I blindfolded myself and let the 5th graders walk me around the school by saying "Turn left", "Turn Right", "Go straight on", "STOP!". It was actually a really great experience for all of us. They were surprisingly really cautious and attentive. At any point they were surrounding me and taking my hands, forming a sort of protective cushion around me in case the person directing me confused right and left. I love taking risks that work!)
Oh side note! This is ANOTHER exciting thing that happened! I got voted by the 8th graders to go along on a field trip on Monday. My first field trip as a chaperone! Guess where we're going!? Gibraltar!! Ah!!! Stoked. Monkeys, Satellite Britain, cheap chocolate, and a great day with my favorite class. Paid for by the Albariza school. What an awesome first field trip.
Anyway, the day continued on. I biked to Paqui's house - Faby's mom - where I eat lunch every day with the whole fam. I love that tradition. Today I got off the elevator and knew I'd be eating an alternative meal. The entire floor reaked of fish - and the smell only got stronger as I moved closer to door. Sure enough, everyone had an entire dorado fish on their plates. I looked up dorado to see what kind of fish it is. It said "Goldfish." I almost gagged again, but it was not like your average housepet. No, no. It looked like this and was larger than a plate. With eyes. And fins. And little teeth. And gills and Ellen is choking back a gag reflex... Then Ana brought me a plate of leftover lentils and a spoon. Yeah!! I tried not to watch Faby eating the meat out of the fish's head and bent over my lentils.
Later, we were sitting around watching TV when all of a sudden Paqui (Pronounced PAH-kee) said "Ellen, I have to tell you something and you are going to die laughing when I tell you." At this point I should mention that Paqui is 84 years old, probably about 4' 5", kind of waddles, is extremely fiesty, and talks to herself often. The other day she was chatting away as I was copying a recipe for salmon and shrimp kabobs in a brandy sauce into my notebook. I realized she was chattering and said, "Are you talking to me?" She said "Oh no! I'm just talking to the TV. I talk all day long without saying anything, hija. Don't even worry about it." Haha. So when Paqui says she's going to tell me something, I assume it's because no one else is listening and it will probably be a memory from when she was little and I even assumed it might have had to do with the large fish that did not fill my plate or my tummy.
Then Paqui said, "I was in the bathroom peeing and I thought to myself, 'I'm going to give Ellen one of the crocheted sweaters I make so that when she has children and I am dead, they can wear it. And I'm going to make it in white so that it can be for a boy or a girl."
This is one of those things that I have secretly wanted the entire time I've been in Spain. The things that Paqui crochets are absolutely beautiful. She makes the entire sweater in one piece. I tried to find something online that looks like what she makes, but I have failed. This is the closest I have come.
What I appreciated so much about this moment is that it made me feel integrated into the family. All the sweaters Paqui is making now are being saved for future family babies, as she is getting along in years. As Paqui cast the ends of the sleeves in two sets of fourteen soft green stitches, I thought about how weird it was. My future child is probably now about 10 rows of stitches closer to having it's first object in the world - a classic Spanish sweater, used in Spain to dress up the baby when going for walks with the pram at around 7 o'clock in the evening. I watched her closely as she cast on and mouthed "cator-th-e" with the final loop. I thought about how Paqui takes her crochet everywhere in her purse - to the doctor, when she goes out for breakfast with her friends. That sweater will be covered in Spanish sunshine and friendship. It will absorb the smells of olive oil on toast, afternoon tea, and be created during hours of Spanish telenovelas. It will be interrupted by phone calls to María del Río, Paqui's best friend since she was 17.
My future is pretty open. As I thanked Paqui and told her that I'd LOVE it if she made me a sweater, I added that my future baby would like it too... ten years from now! Seriously though, it was a little weird thinking about a future baby. I'm a long way from that.
This entry feels a bit disoriented and confused. Welcome to my bilingual brain.
5 comments:
Reading this was like walking on a curvy path in the woods - by the end, I had no idea what would be coming next, but the next turn was always better than the last. It would be weird to get a sweater for a baby you do not have and don't have specific plans to acquire (can I "acquire a baby"?). That is far better than a whole fish, though.
Ellen, this is great. Everything... except for the goldfish.
:)
I love this post. It really reflects the joy with which you accept the spontaneity of life.
Especially the spontaneity of elderly Spanish women.
I was thinking "joy" was the perfect word as well. And Carl, thank you. Once again, your written word has made me laugh.
Love this!
I look forward to future cultural connections.
Also, I think your future baby will grow up speaking excellent Spanish :)
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