O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

As I said before, last week was Semana Santa. When I wasn’t at the beach in Cabo de Gata I was watching the religious processions throughout Granada and they were very strange to me. They involved manpowered floats, carrying a statue of either a beautiful Virgin or a gruesome portrayal of Jesus in one of the stages of his crucifixion. Also there would be men running through the crowd in costumes that, besides sometimes varying in color, perfectly resembled the ghostlike costumes of the KKK. Thousands of beeswax candles, a meter in length. So much incense it filled the streets and made you cough. Women dressed in black with sad mouths and big brown Spanish eyes. Marching bands playing dark, minor anthems as heavy as death.
The spectacle of the whole thing was a little more than I could handle. I found myself uncomfortable with the seriousness people placed on these floats which, although beautiful, were just made of wood and metal. I suppose this reaction came from growing up in a very protestant part of the US that takes pride in its neglect or disgust for ‘the image.’ A place where backyards look like the western front and people wear sweatpants to work.
While the processions were weird and new to me, I like this use of imagery. It’s very powerful. Sometimes, when I’m on a culture shock low, I think that Spaniards are too into the image, focusing on consumer goods and fashion instead of more important things like sincere conversations with friends and asking big questions. BUT, I also wish people wouldn’t be afraid of images. They can be used for good things. I guess the power of images is as two-sided as anything.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy; I think humans worship images for the same reasons that they despise them; they are powerful, fleeting and mysterious. The Universe is beyond the grasp of humans and images that strike a primeval, animalistic chord (scaring or pleasing us) give us wonder and remind us of that.

If I were a building...

People change, the world changes. Gracias a Dios!! It would be a very boring place if it were not so. We have new experiences that affect us greatly and then we cannot be what we were before. We are always trading one identity for a new one; we loose faith in one idea and find it in others. Sometimes we can choose to change, sometimes it just happens, surprises us. We go home and feel a stranger. Today I went to the Alhambra with David, a childhood friend who came to visit me this week. The Alhambra is an amazing palace of Moorish architecture. At onetime it was the center of a kingdom that valued the cultural mingling between Arabic, Jewish and Christian communities. It was the home of libraries and monasteries. Throughout the palace, written on the walls in Arabic are the words “There is no conqueror but God;” a pacifistic interpretation of the Koran. The subjects of the kingdom of Granada lived peacefully under this ideal for almost 800 years until the catholic kings re-conquered the peninsula in 1492, killing or deporting all Muslims and Jews. Since then the Alhambra has been home to various Spanish rulers such as Isabel and Ferdinand (who were mainly responsible for the re-conquest as well as the funding of Columbus’s encounter with new world) and their grandson, Emperor Carlos V who destroyed part of the palace to build a renaissance theatre/bull ring. In 1812 Napoleon’s forces occupied and looted it and then left it, all but abandoned for many years. It has now been restored and has become one of the most popular tourists cites in southern Spain. Throughout it’s long history, the Alhambra has seen many changes but has retained its simplistic name meaning “the red fort.” In the same way, I have always been called Ross Voorhees, a less simple name but one just as static; when I was a baby, my parents called me that. When my family moved to the UK and I went to pre-school for the first time with cowboy boots on, I was called that. When I got into a snowball fight at Ravenwood Elementary and the principle called me down to her office, she called me that. When I got my Eagle Scout award and everyone was so proud of me, I was called that. But each one of those Ross Voorheeses was someone different.

Now in Spain, I feel like the Alhambra; tossing aside one identity while putting on a new one. This change comes with much excitement but also sometimes fear, insecurity and nostalgia for the things I have lost. People change just like kingdoms. Spain is becoming a part of me and I am becoming a small part of it. Neither of us will ever be the same again.

This is our beach

Last week was Semana Santa (Holy Week) and I didn’t have school. With some of this free time I chose to go to the beach. I went to the Almeria province which is tucked in the southeastern corner of Spain. Two very good people accompanied me, Anichka from the Czech Republic and Markus (whom I affectionately call Fancy Zorba) from Austria. While there we met up with some friends; a German girl, two Hungarian girls and a boy from the Czech Republic. We camped out three nights on a large beach called Genoveses outside the town of San Jose. It is part of a small but beautiful natural park called Cabo de Gata. I brought my guitar and it was really very nice. We all drove back in one big green volkswagon van called 'the frog.'

This is our beach
Where Fancy Zorba told me about the Myth of Sisyphus.
Where I taught him to play ‘Riders on the storm’ on the guitar and to drawl a golden rectangle in the sand.
Where we drank cold instant coffee and ate sardines and talked about our fathers.
Where we climbed a mountain and swam in the sea.
Where I learned from him and he learned from me.

There were very few tourists in Cabo de Gata however, I did have one kind of nasty encounter. It was early our first morning on the beach and I got up to walk a little before the others woke. I had gotten dressed and was moving towards the ocean. I came across an old couple pushing their bicycles through the sand, breathing heavily. They were both wearing matching Gilligan’s island hats. I said to the misses, ‘Buenos días!” and she gave me the strangest look. Again, I greeted her, ‘Buenos días.’ Still with that dumbfounded look she replied, ‘Bonjour!’

I thought this quite harmless and laughed a little as I walked on but, in principle, what a travesty! People need to learn at least some basics before traveling to a different country, its only polite.

We're Not All Bad

I was once a pessimist. a sickly, listening-to-tom-waits-reading-sartre pessimist. Life can be ugly. Humans can seem strange, distant and fake. It’s true. We are a hideous, absurd thing on this beautiful planet. I was tortured by this reality; that we will never find purpose and that eventually everyone will die and be forgotten. That the world will be exploited and polluted until we forget what a forest feels like. That books will be replaced by video games. That good ideas will be pushed aside for good money. That everything is going down hill and there is no such thing as progress. I felt so alone.

And yes, we are a tumbling mass of miscommunications and selfishness but like Zorba's zip line; nothing ever fell so beautifully as we. I am learning to embrace the chaotic and dark side of our existence. A task that before I thought quite impossible.
I am able to because I have come more aware of the other side of humans; the side of art, the side that drinks wine and dances in the sand, the side that cries when realizing the Perfect Chaos listed above. The side that shares, loves, looks you in the eye and smiles.

And so I want to write.



Since coming to Spain I have met so many really beautiful people from all over the world. They have changed my perspectives and given me a second chance. This experience is very exciting for me. I wish to use this blog to center my thoughts, record them forever and share them with you.

Your feedback is very very welcome as it is the most important part of communication and communication might just be one of the most important things in the world. Community. You and I. We need each other.

Love, your fellow traveler and guest on earth,

Ross