Last Monday marked 33 years since I left Salamanca, Spain. In truth, Sunday was the anniversary of my leaving there. It was a late, overnight, train from there to Madrid and then a plane to Dublin, via London. So Monday was the anniversary of my arrival back from Salamanca.
Thinking of my, almost non-existant, sense of direction I marvel at having made the journey successfully. It included a change of trains, somewhere in the region of 2:00AM in terms of time and who knows where in terms of locale.
To this day I have fond memories of the city, and of the countryside around it. Even the farm land though, for years, I had an aversion to lentils that bordered on phobia. Perhaps it was something to do with bending over and walking backwards for two weeks as we harvested field after field...after field...after field...after...
Still, that May I saw more sunrises over open countryside that I had before in my life. And possibly since.
I walked around the city late that night, waiting for the train. Sometime after 9:30PM the Plaza Mayor began to fill with families, all the way down to wee little ones, out for their evening meal. Of course, a lens three decades deep can lend a romantic cast to the whole place, and that evening in particular. But just because it's romantic doesn't make it untrue.
Years later, when Spain was running an advertising campaign under the heading: "Spain, everything under the sun", I ran across a two page spread in National Geographic - of the Plaza Mayor, Salamanca.
I almost wept.
Tengo que irme allá.
Showing posts with label Salamanca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Salamanca. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Reflections in a pool - thirty years and more deep
Saturday marked the 31st anniversary of my return from Salamanca, Spain - a date my dad used to remind me of each year. Not a remainder of failure as he saw it, of this I am certain. He was a believer in dates. Dates as markers of events, transitions, steps in a person's growth.
My sister found his calendar program on his PC after his death - a calendar program he wrote himself because the standard programs did not deliver the functionality he wished. It contained a wide variety of such dates - including the one marking the anniversary of his first day at work. His first job, shy young man that he was, placed him behind the pubic counter of the General Post Office in Dublin.
There is something about such a juxtaposition that carries within it the essence of the man. Later in his career, this still shy man became secretary of the Telephone Officers Union in Ireland - known to be a fierce negotiator.
Still later in his career he sat on telecommunications committees across Europe involved with standards definition. A cautious eater, Irish after all, he found himself in Finland, Denmark, Holland.
My return from Salamanca marked the end of my formal life as a Roman Catholic Religious - vows of poverty, chastity and obedience included.
Years later, when I lived just over the border from Geneva, my dad told me that he and my mother discovered I had grown up, become an adult when I arrived back from Spain. They spent a number of months "waiting for the other shoe to drop". It didn't - at least not until much later.
This "growing up", "becoming" has continued for many years. I had, in him, a good model on which to base my efforts.
My sister found his calendar program on his PC after his death - a calendar program he wrote himself because the standard programs did not deliver the functionality he wished. It contained a wide variety of such dates - including the one marking the anniversary of his first day at work. His first job, shy young man that he was, placed him behind the pubic counter of the General Post Office in Dublin.
There is something about such a juxtaposition that carries within it the essence of the man. Later in his career, this still shy man became secretary of the Telephone Officers Union in Ireland - known to be a fierce negotiator.
Still later in his career he sat on telecommunications committees across Europe involved with standards definition. A cautious eater, Irish after all, he found himself in Finland, Denmark, Holland.
My return from Salamanca marked the end of my formal life as a Roman Catholic Religious - vows of poverty, chastity and obedience included.
Years later, when I lived just over the border from Geneva, my dad told me that he and my mother discovered I had grown up, become an adult when I arrived back from Spain. They spent a number of months "waiting for the other shoe to drop". It didn't - at least not until much later.
This "growing up", "becoming" has continued for many years. I had, in him, a good model on which to base my efforts.
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