Warning: This post contains Spanglish; translation in footnotes.
After casi four years solo nomading around the “good ole” USA, I’ve finally taken my Ramblin’ Anne show off the road, into the air, and across the pond. Worse than the hurricane that blew me out of Asheville back in September, this time it was a human/inhuman hurricane that thrust me outa hometown DC all the way to Andalucia, Spain!
Sometimes it does take a shock to the system to make change. Though, en verdad, this trip was in the works well before either of the two hurricanes hit because, after years of dedicated healing practices – shaman ceremonies and yoga asanas, physical and spiritual and energy therapies – my beloved, crooked, twisted spine I call Caroline was finally ready to FLY!
So here I am, aqui estoy – after 24 hours of planes, trains, and taxis – lugging luggage, missing connections, losing sleep, writhing in economy seats – I have landed.
Caroline is a wreck: QL muscle taught as piano wire, hips adhered, legs numb, fear of a chronic pain relapse making matters worse. It’s raining gatos y perros in the narrow streets of Malaga; and I’m not dressed appropriately. My "cozy, quiet" Airbnb in el centro is not quiet as advertised. Situated on a major thoroughfare, the rumbling traffic triggers my delicate nervous system into fits of insomnia and anxiety.
It's embarrassing to admit: this veteran nomad is not that great a traveler! I like my comforts, my safety, the ground beneath me, my routines. I pack too much and not enough. I miss friends, my last rental on Chincoteague Island, VA, my yoga sangha at the Y, my VW Tiguan, my contour pillow and French press and comfy sweatpants. Though I did pack my fold-able yoga mat - essential equipment. And behold The Buddha gracing me with his accidental presence.
But it's 3 am, and I cannot sleep. I almost give-up trying, tear the blankets off the Airbnb bed and make myself a bedroll half inside the closet. I stuff buds in my ears, and feel my spine sink down to the hard ground as I listen to recorded river sounds and pretend I’m back in the Western Carolina mountains – lolling on a rock in the sun by my favorite Swannanoa swimming hole – before Hurricane Helene swept through and ruined everything.
Though this is exactly why I travel – to find ground wherever I am – to remember the impermanence of everything. Tears roll down my cheeks into my ears as I send myself lovingkindness prayers: May I be happy, may I be safe, may I be free.
I made it, I’m here. Mañana es un nueva dia. Tomorrow's a new day in a new place - new sights, sounds, smells, tastes - sabores de España - and a new lovely language on my tongue.
Ahh, mañana es mi cumple!
Translations:
Casi = almost
En verdad = truthfully
Aqui estoy = here I am
Gatos y perros = cats and dogs
El centro = city center
Mañana es un nueva dia = tomorrow is a new day
Sabores de España - tastes of Spain
Culple (short for cumpleanos) = birthday
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