From our first morning in Valencia looking out our apartment window I saw colorful, expressive artwork on walls on the edge of the Plaza de la Merced near the Central Market.  The images are captivating.  The artists, armed with spray paint and other tools show up at night with lights and this work appears.  It's sort of like self-publishing your work.  But not all the graffiti is angry or counter culture.  One of the Fallas that David and I liked so much was topped by a really intense, spiky haired female.  We liked her and she sort of embodies the graffiti artist in a way.  Actually there was a sculpture of a Graffiti artist with spray can in hand on the other side of this one, but David didn't capture it.  It was on my lost DVD of all my Falla last day photos that died.  But you get a sense of the "Up yours! sentiment"  that's alive and well in Spain.

The bravado and all is quite similar- in a public space-- reminds me of the AIDS activist artist who was a companion of Warhol's who did subway painting in the dark of night.  I will remember his name.  Their was an exhibit of hi s work in Reading a few years ago.  Mary Jo Hill and I saw it, so I may ask her his name.  

Apparently some signs are universal.

  Clearly the marijuana plant is a universal symbol.  And this was probably a great place to smoke it, away from the crowd, next to some orange groves.

But these are reminiscent of Picasso and true art renditions.  They take a full new turn!

These two are both from our local La Canyada park.  Nobody seems to notice or worry that it's here.  Kids go on playing games on the basketball court.  Older folks sit in the park with their grandkids.  It's a well used park with plenty of light at NIGHT.

This back on the old mill wall in Campament.  Where I felt the guilty pleasures of taking photos in the weeds.  So I understand the graffiti artist's emphasis on this one.

Vicente Carbona, the paella cook, had started long before we arrived to build the wood fire under the paella pan.  Fruit wood is the best, but these little wooden pieces of wood kept the fire evenly burning.  The little house in the picture, in their backyard is where the magic happens.  It has a vent for the smoke and looks like a real kitchen.  Ingredients for this paella were olive oil, garlic, chicken (or rabbit)  when the chicken has cooked, then he poured in a can of chopped tomatos, then  he poured enough paella rice across the middle of the pan to make a dam from one side to the other.  The spices are saffron based, corn starch and salt.  Then you put in the vegetables, flat green beans and artichokes.  Except they go in before the rice so it will be tasty.  What a pleasure to be invited into a home, a rare occurrence for us in Spain.  That's not uncommon, it's not that Spaniards don't like foreigners, but when they meet us they prefer to be on neutral ground.

Vini was born inValencia but moved to Boston when his family was ten years old.  The Franco regime did not treat them at all well and his father's shoe factory was blackballed by the politics of the system and they were able to get out of the country.  Vini met Mona at Boston University.  She had traveled and lived all over the world.  They married and have three children, high school to post high school. Their beautiful home they finished as a shell in an urbanizacion.  Their tales of what it was like to finish the house was a Herculean task.  But it is gorgeous.  Roomy downstairs, terrace with the table, the paella place out back along with the pool.  To boot they have a finished basement with the biggest laundry room in the world.  Their oldest son, lives next to it, in absolute privacy.  The garage is fully tiled.  Amazing.

David met with Mona at our house for Spanish tutoring for almost three months.  He has really made progress. Now he's correcting me!

But a big part of David's comfort with Spanish is Mona's doing.  She marched him through verbs, adjectives, pronouns, etc.  So he feels like he has a more comfortable base.  He understands quite a bit, but there are still those trace moments when it's a little dicey making out technical words like 

"Cuidado con los animales Sulfeticacion"  We figure it has to do with spraying for mosquitos.

How did this happen?  Chasing the tourist experience is one explanation.  We were out of contemplative modes.  But as luck would have it, it was in this vacuum that I finally saw that while I don't meditate with the force of the Dalai Lama, the blog has been my meditation-my discipline.  I have been a dutiful daughter to the muse.  As a tool it offers me "ways in" to reach for what is coming through my eyes, all my senses.  It has been a grounding tool here in Spain.  Without the discipline and the sense of obedience to it, my experience here would have been less rich.

David said, "12 more days,Paula" two days ago.  And so it is.

  There are a few more photo shooting opportunities in the gardens in Valencia, a trek to a Ceramics museum in Paterna, the next town over, where we never got off the train because it was a seedy stop.  And we will purchase a few things that we want to add to our lifestyle in the U.S.  They have these fantastic ceramic plates that you can grill in the oven with.  So you plop your vegetables in olive oil, put them under the broiler and in a few minutes all the verduras are toasted and delightful.  So hopefully we will be able to incorporate not just the physical aspects of our trek into our new life, but also the walking, taking public transportation, being more present to how we live.

Back to the blog, it is something I will continue to do as a spiritual discipline somehow. A way to integrate experience, a way to bring in the new, re-evaluate the old.  Many of us beat ourselves up over not having the discipline to meditate like a pro or to follow a guru, or the determination to be the highest form of being possible.  We often emulate the yogis and others, without seeing the dedication to love, passion and enlightenment that moves from something as simple as committing to a blog. So here's an example of not listening to guidance, getting the message and regrouping via the images.

Two days ago I got off the metro at Campament a metro stop I have been wanting to explore, but haven't.  There is an old mill there that is in disrepair.  Every time I saw it on the metro ride into Valencia, I would say, "Someday."  Well, while we were gone to Murcia, the mill burned- the work of a couple of homeless folks.  I wondered what was left of it.  When we came back from Murcia, it had been torched again. My heart dropped into my stomach.  I should have stopped earlier and gotten it, when it had more integrity.  

Here's fire one...

Fire Number 2.

  Notice the roof is really gone in my photos.  At least I kept the newspapers these were in.  Finding these papers was ALSO quite serendipitous.  These are not in any major paper.  Just free papers available in train stations..... And I picked them up in different places... They were finding me.

David and Elisabeth had both said I shouldn't go IN the place alone.  Well, I crossed the metro tracks and  found a pathway between two fenced garden plots that were actively being tended.  I thought that was a good sign.  There were signs of dogs having been walked extensively there with urine and poop tantalizing the nostrils.  A row of huge century plants protected the gardens from the train tracks.  I got closer and saw the wire mesh surrounding the mill.  There was smoky residue on the walls, graffiti on the inside was visible, so others had been there before me, clearly.  It was quiet there.  I jumped a little when I saw a man walking down the side of the road with a Mercadona plastic bag in his hands. He passed.  So I pulled out the camera and took shots of the building- knowing it was pretty dangerous to wander inside.  The building looked like it could collapse. While many of the photos I have taken are not perfect photos, some out of focus, some grainy, low light. They reflect the feeling of being here. So my critical, judgmental eyes get to take a back seat.  Here the challenge was stepping into an abandoned  four hundred year old mill.  Included are some shots of the graffiti, the windows, the walls from different angles. See what they mean to you.  As a gal from Texas the one below looks like the Alamo.

I worked quickly and then  hopped over the tracks again and took some more recent graffiti shots.  I was the interloper along with all the others.  It has a history and soon it will be torn down because it is a danger to the community.  These were some of the shots that captured my attention.  It reminds me of an asbestos factory where my photo group went to shoot just before it closed for good.

Here I was a soon to be 59 year old woman crawling into places to get shots that were a little dicey, but I took a deep breath and went where angels fear to tread.   The "Yes" was somehow confirmation that I had taken the initiative and hadn't been captured by dangerous forces.

There is little doubt that Spain has changed us. Uprooting us from habits, teaching us that though we are mature adults, we don't have to be stodgy. There are adventures and explorations everywhere. So it's important not to get bogged down in the day to day and keep the spirits of the high seas about us.  Yesterday the electricity went out, we had to just be with the darkness for a few hours.  We do not know who to call, everyone in the neighborhood did not have electricity- so we just relaxed and eventually it came on.  We had candles at the ready.  In Fountain Hill, we would have gotten irritated, called PP&L and tapped our fingers on the counter top because something was getting in our way.  So time for new ways to take root and sprout ingenuity.

Coming home means throwing away many of the clothes we brought here, they are well-worn, lots have new holes from our washing machine which is also a thresher of sorts. Valencia this term has been way colder than we imagined.  I have worn a pair of shorts once.  In the last two weeks I've had my winter silk undies on, and there was snow in the hills north of Madrid.  So truthfully, I did not have to pack anything but winter clothes for  this trek.  Sun bathing has been at a minimum.  Our only beach experiences have been in Manga del Menor near Cartagena, it has much to do with expectations.  We are not big sunbathers anyway, walking by the beach is nice, but frying in hot oil doesn't work for either of us.

A curious thought occurred to me.  If I continue to process images and experiences, will anyone else be curious once I have my feet back in the US?  I don't know.  But I know I will continue to write because I have found a different voice.  Even if it's just for me, it's enough.

So fetched the camera and decided this was a moment to capture.  I put the little thing on a box of plates David was given in Turkey, velvet.  Took some pictures but had to really jack up the speed of the ISO(ASA) to 400 to get anything to show up.  Too grainy, so I took the beetle outside on a table and it was a cooperative subject.  The whole time I was feeling enormously lucky having seen it.  A number of things could have happened. I might never have seen it and it would have disappeared.  I could have sat on it and crushed it.  But,no--it survived the interior of this house.

It's amazing.  I had added it to my collection and it dared to walk away. That will teach me.  So in these photos you see the beauty of something that originally was probably a dung beetle. I left it outside and voila it flew away, or hobbled away.  I guess beetles fly.

Having forgotten the Egyptian meanings for the beetle, I googled, scarab and beetle.  Then I remember, a few years ago a scarab fell out of the air into my hands as I was walking out the backdoor of my house.  It was perfect but dead.  It was during a time when a number of flying objects were showing up- an unusual wasp invaded the front yard and the dead beetle.  Signs of resurrection and shifting.  Here's the scoop on the scarab....

I am NOT claiming to be a deity, but who cannot claim growing and transforming in some ways who we have been and when I'm cremated-no beetles in the urn. I'm sure lots of folks would love for me to transform even more- especially my children who walk the other way at mention of my spiritual adventures.  So we will see what this means to me.

When we moved to Pennsylvania there were usable buildings from the 1700's and Native American sites that were light years older.  The irony is that, "aqui in Espana" old things are often old hat.  They have been surrounded by Roman ruins, Iberian ruins, the Visigoths destroyed many of the ruins and the Moors built beautiful buildings that Ferdinand and Isabella,better known as Reyes Catolicos, "transformed" from mosques into cathedrals. The last time we were here one of David's fellow matematicos was driving us to Madrid from Valencia he was only pointing out the tv towers and radio towers not the ancient cathedrals or windmills or... that captivated us.  

Ironically, we chose a house north of Valencia that is "older".  When potential renters came by to look for a summer house in La Canyada I overheard them saying to the real estate agent that it's a nice house but it's so old.  It was built around 1950.

Casa de Buena Fortuna

Here's the Roman house where they found FORTUNA written at the entryway to one of the houses.  Not a bad sentiment to offer for those who enter. 

The piecing together of tiles found in the rubble suggest interesting senses of color. I always thought that the Romans were all about white, monumental marble, but apparently not so.  In the large view the spaces that haven't filled in create a different reality.  Almost as interesting as what they have pieced together.  For the artists- negative space.

In the photo of the design, up close you see the actual size of the pieces.  Those of you who love jigsaw puzzles eat  your hearts out.

Museo Arqueologico Cartagena

And from the Archeological Museum in Cartagena we saw this sign.  Some of the tablets are funeral markers, but lots of them are just signs about laws, rules, and locations.  So for those of us who complain about the email we write or deal with.  Think how carefully you would consider writing if you had to use a chisel and stone.  No whiteout or backspacing to delete.  If you read Latin please tell me what this is about.

The funeral monuments are pretty cool but imagine the time that went into them.  Todays granite or concrete monuments are a little cheesy.  I just wonder if this is really a likeness of the person who died, or if like in US obituaries you see photos of people when they were 20 in a sailor suit.

Plaza de Toros, Cartagena

The Plaza de Toros in Cartagena looks a lot like a Roman amphitheatre, this one also demonstrates the Moorish influence in the area which was considerable. the key like openings.  Of course under neath this they have found ruins of a "roman theatre".

This quirky building below is an ode to all of us when we feel like we are standing alone.  This facade is typical of Spanish urban renewal.  They save the front and build behind it.  Of particular interest though is the knot of wires that are  hanging from the house.  Code inspectors in the US would have a conniption fit as my grandmother Myrtle used to say.  

But just to remind us that we are not in charge at all, here is one of the trees we have found all over Spain, and no one we have asked knows their names.  They remind me of the trees we saw in Joshua Tree National Monument in California. You too can play, "Name that tree."

This tree has to be really old, that's how it made into the antiguo category.The next episode will take in a little Murcia and the 25th anniversary that David and I shared in Murcia.  We know some of you have 50th anniversaries coming up, like my brother Floyd and his wife Fran. But, hey we started much later. So happy trails and looking in the mirror is not such a bad idea.

Outside of the museum, which was built on a necropolis, complete with burial grounds, there were thousands of pounds of Roman and Carthage columns and buildings just laying around, next to  modernist murals.  See if you can see the little people, who look like Martians in precarious positions in this photo.  Juxtaposition of ancient and pop.

We were amazed at the items in the museum.  ( For pictures from here out, go to the Photos section on the left  side and click on Cartagena).  All sorts of pre Roman tools used for sewing, rocks trimmed for instruments and farming tools.  Kind of makes you wonder what they will find under your house after you are gone.  There were almost intact amphoras, pottery containers used to carry water. Marble sculptures, a little weather worn, my favorite is the headless woman.  The heads were carved separately, as were the arms and were attached with metal rods into the base.  That’s why so many of the statues lost their heads and arms. 

Clearly, when building projects are underway, they bring in the team of archeologists to check the site before they are allowed to excavate.  All these finds were in the last half of the 20h century.  The Teatro  Romano is being restored as are the many walls of the city.

Modern Civil War buildings, the Refugio de las Bombas ( Bomb Shelter) point to the life of being a target of Franco’s friends, the Italians and the German air forces.  This museum is on the actual site of the bomb shelters designed to hold 5,000 people.  It’s built into the side of the tallest hill in Cartagena that has an old castle on top.  Great view from there.  But you have to take an elevator from the shelter to the top.   I was really taken by the Refugio because it challenged my knee-jerk sense of Peace at any Cost.  The Republican (anti-Franco forces) starved, families were divided, children sent away to family outside of Cartagena to protect them.  But the shelter made the experience real, not abstract.  The base of the shelter, is a site to exhibit children’s posters for La Paz.

In the harbor are incredible, Star Wars-like  structures camouflaged in rock and stone  to hide canons and guns and submarines. 

There has been a haunting almost dreamlike aspect to our entire trip—an undertone of the Spanish Civil War throughout, beginning with our reading of “The Ghosts of Spain  by Giles Tremlett.   This book details, from a British point of view how much of modern Spain is anchored in the Civil War.  Though nobody wants to talk about it. 

In Cartagena we met the reality of the war site.  It happened.  I realized that this is as close as I have come to being in or near a war battleground.  In the US there are battle sites, Antietam, First Battle of Bull Run, but those were mostly fields where soldiers died.  Here, the civilian toll was horrific.  And on both sides. Like so many other areas rife with killing and disputes.  Maybe the children’s posters are an afterthought, perhaps a  plea that no other families have to suffer.  Even after Franco’s death people were reticent to talk about where their family was in the struggle.  Socialists would punish those who even obliquely had anything to do with the war.

In Valencia at the IVAM (Modern Art Museum) we saw a phenomenal exhibit of Luís Ramon Marín (Madrid 1884-1944) and saw what it meant to be an insider photographer in the Franco regime.  Photos of Rivera the founder of the Falangists- Super Right- in battle fatigues and his funeral at El Escorial,Phillip II’s huge monumental city.  Marin had 18,000 glass negatives of his visions of the most famous people in Spain. He documented from airplanes, boats, etc.  His visions were clear and compelling, I don’t know his politics.  To see some of his images go to http://www.ivam.es and look for current exhibicions for Marin.  We have talked to people on either side who lost uncles, grandfathers to the machinations of the Republicans and the Francists.  So there is no winner.

Leaving Cartagena we went to La Playa en La Manga del Menor.  Think the southernmost place in the US, Key West, where you can see Cuba in the Keys.  It’s like that.  We had paella on the beach and it was fabulous.  It’s hard to imagine what it would be like to live on the beach.  We passed high rise, after high rise, before we found- probably an illegal passageway that took us to the Mediterranean.  There, with sun screen in the car, we baked on the beach while eating fabulous paella on Mother’s Day in Spain, the week before US mother’s day.

There are many salt seas in the area.  Big salt producing area.  So for rheumatism treatments this is Mecca.  You can go for a week and receive water treatments.  So Archana, Murcia, and other places have balnearios with hotels.  I was tempted, but we already had a hotel.

We had a wonderful time with our Spanish host, Angel Ferrandez-Izquierdo, his wife Marisol, and their daughter Marta.  We hope they can visit the U.S. with Marta who has special needs.  A family with giant hearts.  See them below.  Angel is wearing Marisol’s glasses so he can read the menu. 

David talked at the University and felt really good about it.  A number of graduate students from University of Granada also came to David’s talk, though they were there for a short course offered by Marco an Italian mathematician from Univ. of Milan.

Yes,  he's out of focus but someone else took this picture.  And here are the rest of the faculty and students from Murcia and Granada.  Quite a crew.  Notice all the women!

After Cartagena, where we saw everything turistico, we just enjoyed Murcia.  Our 25th anniversary was spent in a fabulous restaurant El Rincon de Pepe, in our hotel.  It’s where the rich and famous go.  Since we were neither- we stuck out like sore thumbs.

What we did discover in Cartagena and Murcia were the wines of Murcia, Jumillas, Bullas, and Yeclas.  Angel gifted us with examples of them and we had found a special one we liked in Cartagena- called Casa de Ermita, a Jumilla, that has great powerful burst of flavor.  It’s not for wimps.  But is really good with spicy food.  Now we have to see who imports these delicious beauties.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, we are not in control of lives. We came back to a house that was radically transformed. There was about ¼ inch of fine debris from cutting tile on all flat surfaces.  I cleaned the house thoroughly before we left so UGH! The landlady had workers come in and clean the grounds of all the winter plantings, take the skuzzy water out of the swimming pool and paint it.  And, to boot, they had gutted the downstairs bathroom taking out the 1950’s fixtures,tub, toilet, and replaced with tile walls,a new ceiling, vanity and mirror with lots of Ikea type furniture with  glued wood products. Not fabulous for those with chemical sensitivities. Now there is a fancy shower with 8 water jets, a little base, and today they are putting in a circular shower curtain holder so David will not have to  mop up the entire floor after he showers. 

 Needless to say—we moved upstairs to the third floor bedroom  only to find that --today, they were taking the roof off our new bedroom and putting asphalted tin on it.  I am doing well, trying not to breathe it in.  So after this blog, I will go for a walk and try to regroup.

On Wednesday David leaves for Lyons, France for his last mathematical excursion.  He has traveled to Turkey, Granada, Salamanca and Murcia to give talks and now he flies to Lyon for a Geometry conference where he will spend time thinking mathematically with Vincent Borrelli at the University of Lyon.  He will have to restrain himself in Lyon.  It is the gastronomic capital of France.  Hopefully he will come back with a few euros in his pockets.  He finds Borrelli quite a fascinating mathematician, much in common.  Thanks to Olga Gil, Universitiy of Valencia, David was able to spend quality time with Vincent when he came to Valencia in February.

This next week we will welcome visitors from Fountain Hill, our neighbors Kim and Terry Ritter. I am sure it will be a continuation of Spanish aventura.
 

A month late,but my heart is still open to Malaga.