Here I am again in the new park. It is a place only used by runners and dog walkers at the moment but the signs are that soon it will be officially open and I suppose then it will be full of people as well as rubbish. Today the new chairs and bins had arrived
Duna had the pool to herself
I’m always on the lookout for bird shapes
Today only photos – I can’t think straight enough to write more. Granollers is quiet with so many people away and soon I will be one of them!
It would be nice if John Lennon was still around, no?
Next week they will be showing MASH!
but I decided to cross the road and walk here with everyone else!
It was 30 degrees according to the clock/thermometre outside the pharmacy.
After doing a little shopping in the July Sales….I met some friends and Here we are sitting near the Porxada in Granollers having a few beers and enjoying the evening sunshine. Tiffany took the photo so she isn’t in it! What a shame.
Tonight we went to try out the tango in Les Arcades in Granollers. Somehow the fact that there is a class and a milonga right here, not five minutes away in Carrer Girona, had slipped past my tango antennae. It has been going since January – five whole months in which I could have been walking down our road, turning left then right and then straight into a bar with a dance floor at the back and a group of people who dance tango.
Last year we tried to start a tango class here but I stopped after a term as the effort needed to teach in Spanish as well as advertise it seemed beyond my capabilities. Sometimes I feel that the energy I use to learn two languages, get used to a new relationship, survive being a sort of step mother to a difficult adolescent, drive a car on the right side of the road, try to get health care, worry about my dogs in Cornwall and all the rest……means I just can’t do one more new thing.
Recently I have been feeling very like this.
I didn’t include writing this blog in that list as normally it is something that flows easily and I enjoy enormously. But recently, this too has felt hard. Too many questions like – What am I doing? Who is this for? Does anyone read it (apart from those three people that I know about -thank you, you know who you are), What can I say and what is better to leave unsaid?
I try generally to write about what catches my attention and what I find interesting about Catalunya and the experience of changing my life. Sometimes it is cultural, sometimes it is personal, and sometimes it is a bit of both. But when I am feeling alien and alone here and struggling with the feeling of being an outsider without a strong support system of friends and family on hand, then the words get blocked. I can’t only write happy thoughts here but it is also a bit frightening to write down my doubts and fears and let them drop into this void.
What is this to do with tango, I hear you think.
Everything for me. This is what took me to tango in the first place and this is what I bring to tango when I dance. Connection. Longing for connection. Risking connection.
Tonight my dear man accompanied me to the class and the milonga, He isn’t really interested in tango but came to make me happy. We danced together. I had a bit of a glitch when the female teacher started to tell me how to do the cross but I remembered my friend Tiffany’s advice and just smiled. The male teacher came and danced with me twice and then, just as I was taking off my shoes to leave, the man with the black and white shoes and fedora hat came up to ask me to dance. When he first arrived in the bar I thought he would be too flashy but actually he was just very good, very attentive, very connected.
It was a good evening. I came away feeling happy.
The people were friendly, the music was lovely, and we were dancing tango in Granollers.
Which made it feel more like home.
Swallows swooping, people walking their dogs, the sound of the swifts high above, and occasionally a pair of ducks flying over on their circular routes around the river.
In the distance the hills.
I have some friends coming here to visit soon and I was wondering what they will think when I take them there. Will they see what I see? Or will their eyes rest more on the ugly flats, the litter and dog shit, the large car park to the left and the industrial zone of Cavovelles across the river?
I can switch views and see all this too – it’s like having a button with two options – beautiful or ugly, nice or nasty, agreeable or disagreeable.
Sometimes it depends on my mood which one I see.
But generally I go there and feel good. I accept that I live in a town and not in the middle of nature as I used to in Cornwall. It just makes me happy that there are these wild places here.
But it struck me how much harder it is to do the same with human beings. Faced with someone who irritates me or who is nasty or disagreeable I find it much harder to just see the good parts. The option button gets stuck on negative mode far too often. I wonder why that is and what it would take to make the change. Practice?
