Now that I think about it, how a stranger (me) was welcomed into their home-both of his grandparents home-his mothers boyfriends home- and last but not least, the home of his mother….. it did not seem to be a normal occurrence- to have Ruben bring company home. The preparation of multiple Spanish feasts, their attentiveness to make me feel welcome even though I did not speak their language, how it seemed they knew all about me, they knew what to ask in the minimal english spoken in the five days Ruben took me 3 hrs west of Barcelona to see his land, where he was raised, in the land of Aragon, down the mountain to the high desert plains, to his home.
I can tell you that I was kinda nervous. I usually do not get like this, I am usually pretty confident that if I just am myself..friendly, approachable, attentive then things would go smoothly- a comfort will be found. However, me not speaking Spanish very well and the family of Ruben not speaking English, kinda makes things difficult or at least interesting and comical at times.
Our first stop was Ruben’s Mother’s parents home in Luna, a little village north of Zarragoza, the city where his mother lives and where Ruben was raised.
As I enter the newly constructed village two story home, I am welcomed with smiles from his grandmother and grandfather.
The grandmother instantly takes me to see her home, all of her pictures. Speaking only in Spanish and French, she takes me to every room, shows me all her pictures- she is so proud of her family and this becomes more evident at dinner as we eat and she keeps looking at Ruben, with all smiles, and keeps telling him what a good man he is. I become tickled, and very impressed when I learn that Ruben’s grandfather was a shoe designer. I am taken to the cabinet that displays the models of mini shoes, 2 models for each season, at one time were used to showcase the design, and if chosen for the line, were made into normal scale shoes. Of course I had to get pictures.
Next stop, Grandparents home number two where I go to meet his grandparents, father, and little brother. I am told they farm.
Instantly I visioned vast lands, surrounding a stone Spanish style home with barns and farm equipment scattered throughout the land. You know similar to the us…. but not a stone home but wood. We arrive to the village,
pass a village washtub that still is used to wash clothes, and then approach a home in the village.
I soon observe that this is typical as I see the first level of the home is actually the barn/garage/wine cellar/and place where produce is kept and soap is made.
I instantly think my father would envy all the room, as I see how mush space there is for john deer tractors and farm trucks. It seems the Spanish are not into urban sprawl and keep to living in the villages. You enter the home by scaling steps to the second level where you can get a glimps of the amazing garden
where Rubens father will make the most amazing and biggest Paella that I have ever seen,
and where Ruben and I will do yoga one afternoon. His family welcomes me. I get to meet his little brother and his grandmother, just as his other grandmother, continues to feed me the most amazing food, and yes I ate meat- pig-cow-rabbit. You see I do not think I could bare not to eat either of his grandmother’s food that they spent hours preparing. To sum things up, if I cannot speak their language, the least I can do is eat their food. So I spent a few days being forced fed by the Spanish elderly, no worries I tell myself… it is nothing a few more hours on the bike will not fix.
I say, last but not least, when I begin to think of Ruben’s mother. I kick myself now because I do not have one picture of her. I had only one evening to visit and we spent this time visiting. I came with gifts, chocolate (Ruben told me her favorite) that my mother made and a framed picture of her son. What mother would not like that? The evening was perfect. She is learning English and I am learning Spanish. I think we did pretty well, and if we had problems we called for Ruben to translate. Sylvia, a very beautiful woman, a traditional Spanish beauty, a young mother that loves her only son very much. As we sit in the living room, I since a familiarity about her. I cannot place it initially or really describe it, but I can say a comfort found me. I begin to think and realize she reminds me of my mother, and the relationship I have with my mother. How she looks and relates to her son, a mother, but then best friend. The evening goes by fast and the morning approaches even faster. We must return to Barcelona for Ruben to go to work and a s we leave I found that Ruben's mother left present for me.. a beautiful necklace.
Phone calls follow our visit, and I see a smile appear on Ruben’s face. He looks at me and says, “I passed the test”; then he giggles. It seems to win over the grandmothers of Ruben, all you have to do is help with the dishes and act like you know what they are talking about when they speak in Spanish and French.
where Rubens father will make the most amazing and biggest Paella that I have ever seen,
and where Ruben and I will do yoga one afternoon. His family welcomes me. I get to meet his little brother and his grandmother, just as his other grandmother, continues to feed me the most amazing food, and yes I ate meat- pig-cow-rabbit. You see I do not think I could bare not to eat either of his grandmother’s food that they spent hours preparing. To sum things up, if I cannot speak their language, the least I can do is eat their food. So I spent a few days being forced fed by the Spanish elderly, no worries I tell myself… it is nothing a few more hours on the bike will not fix.
I say, last but not least, when I begin to think of Ruben’s mother. I kick myself now because I do not have one picture of her. I had only one evening to visit and we spent this time visiting. I came with gifts, chocolate (Ruben told me her favorite) that my mother made and a framed picture of her son. What mother would not like that? The evening was perfect. She is learning English and I am learning Spanish. I think we did pretty well, and if we had problems we called for Ruben to translate. Sylvia, a very beautiful woman, a traditional Spanish beauty, a young mother that loves her only son very much. As we sit in the living room, I since a familiarity about her. I cannot place it initially or really describe it, but I can say a comfort found me. I begin to think and realize she reminds me of my mother, and the relationship I have with my mother. How she looks and relates to her son, a mother, but then best friend. The evening goes by fast and the morning approaches even faster. We must return to Barcelona for Ruben to go to work and a s we leave I found that Ruben's mother left present for me.. a beautiful necklace.
Phone calls follow our visit, and I see a smile appear on Ruben’s face. He looks at me and says, “I passed the test”; then he giggles. It seems to win over the grandmothers of Ruben, all you have to do is help with the dishes and act like you know what they are talking about when they speak in Spanish and French.
No comments:
Post a Comment