Humbling Experience

Wednesday I volunteered to take Lamine, Marebo and Amara up to the Municipal Sports Center in Santa Cruz. They have been going for a couple of weeks now, to play basketball. It didn’t occur to me just how they would do this. I had a vague awareness of there being sports organizations for disabled people, things I’d seen on TV, I knew there is an Olympic Event following the main Event every time, but the specifics never occured to me.

Bear in mind too, that I have known these, three guys for a while now, and so I hardly ever think of them in terms of being disabled, they get about, and do things with their friends and with people from the Center almost normally. It was a bit of a shock, then, to realize that in order to play basketball they have to use wheelchairs. I went into the store room whilst they tried various ones, and Lamine strapped himself in. Evidently, last week he had fallen out! Then I went and sat outside on a bench to wait for them, whilst the coach got changed.

After a few moments they glided out, silently onto the blue court, the silverly wheels of the chairs making no sound. The moment became surreal and seemed to drift into slow motion for me as they gracefully wheeled about the space, getting the feel of the chairs, and I absorbed the fact that these guys did not have “normal” lives and capabilities. My thoughts drifted with them, and the events which must have brought them to this time and place.

My reverie didn’t last too long though. The trainer’s entrance was brisk and fast, and he soon had them practising moves with the chairs, and doing arm and back exercises, and eventually handling the ball and practise throws. I was with them all the way, laughing, mentally cheering them on, and resisting the temptation to scope up the ball and throw it back when it came close to me. Hardly ever has an hour and a half of my life gone by so quickly.

I have to say it was emotional, though I think they’d hate that, or be confused by it. Seems like I have a regular task Wednesdays now, and it looks like being fun.

Noche de San Juan

I couldn’t quite take in the fact that I had lived her for twenty years and hadn’t taken in the full significance and fun of this festival until last year. That was possibly because it seemed such a spontaneous and friendly festival. Of course I read it all afterwards. In many places in Spain it is a very organized festival (Alicante area for example), even here in the Northern towns the local councils organize music and entertainment, but here in the South the celebrations are “amateur”, and all the more magical for it.

The familiar attempt was made by the Church to Christianize the celebration, naming it for St John the Baptist, but very much at heart it remains Pagan, a celebration of Summer, a washing away and discarding of the unwanted and unloved. Personally, it is Fall which makes me feel that way, but I can go along with this one very happily, living in this climate, Fall doesn’t seem quite the same anyway.

I suppose some organization took place, because a huge bonfire had been built at the end of the beach in Las Galletas, and properly roped off for security, though I don’t remember seeing either police or Protección Civil anywhere around. It was lit on the stroke of midnight.

That would have been just after the hardy ones amongst the crowd (not including me) had done the ritual cleansing by venturing into the waves. It isn’t the going in which requires the courage, it’s the coming out into the chill night air. Even the hottest days here are followed by cool nights. The inside temperatures, with walls retaining the sun’s warmth can mount up and become claggy, but outside the night breeze is always soothing.

Although, last year, after I “discovered” this festival I was determined to organize friends to “do it right” and barbeque and all, somehow it escaped me, and we picniced instead. We also didn’t have the tambones. My fault again, Geert had them there ready, but Draman said no, and he was the musician in the group, so I went along with his decision, and then everyone was asking “Where are the drums?” !!! I should have known better. Draman hadn’t been before so how was he to know?

It would have been so cool to jump over the fire the way people were doing! Their own, small fires, that is, not the huge bonfire! This is also symbolic of new beginnings and cleansing, not to mention confronting your own fears. Next year I am determined to do it differently. Goodness knows who will still be here then, but this time last year I had decided that Noche de San Juan would mark my departure. I was wrong. The intervening time has been fruitful, happy and rewarding. So this year I will not be so rash. What I will say, however, is that it will mark my reassessment of my situation – if I am still here.

Cristina, Severine,Tomas, Lamine y Mohamed

My new mantra

Wow!  I’ve had this quote around me for a while, but today it really hit me in the face!!!!!!!  AND it is SO true.  Piddling about deciding what to do takes so much energy we often give up, or simply procrastinate until it is too late.  Hell, life’s too short, figuring out “the way” is what should take our energy!

“Once the “what” is decided,
the “how” always follows.” We must not make the
“how” an excuse for not facing and accepting
the “what”. Pearl S. Buck

The Foolhardy Fisherman

Happily fishing one minute

Quickly gathering his stuff together!

Making a run for it!

Almost there!

This guy has often been caught in my snaps of these rocks, which I see from my window, sometimes in conditions which kept most people well away, but the other day even he scared himself! As you can see, after braving the waves for a while he suddenly decided that dinner wasn’t worth the risk, and made a quick dash for it!

La Lucha Canaria

Tonight I went to la Lucha Canaria again – third time this season.  What I didn’t realize is just how important it was, being the last night of the season.  “My” team, i.e. the one for which our friend, Yamar, fights, didn’t do so well in the junior section in which he fights, but they took it right up to the last second in the adults section.  It was literally down to the last throw!!

The excitment is hard to describe.  We were early because we wanted to watch Yamar, and the juniors fight first, and it was pretty quiet, especially when the juniors were less than stellar, and I wondered if the two friends new to all this were bored.  However, soon as those chunky, big-thighed guys got stuck in the fun really started.  The audience which had seemed apathetic suddenly sprang to life.   There was much cheering, whistling, clapping and swearing, and something I never heard before (maybe cos of the construction of different buildings) much banging of the metal sheets used for advertising signs.  Carcophony doesn’t come close!  Impossible to talk, better just to clap, shout and stamp!  It would be hard to match this level of enthusiasm even at Old Trafford.

I was thinking about how kind of “pure” this is.  It’s amateur, and yet hugely popular, sponsored by different, local companies.  So, all these guys have other lives.  So is this their secret life, or is this their passion and their “other” lives are just needs-must?

Having said that much amateur dramatics were going on too.  Sulks, rows, tears, injuries which had you holding your breath – until the guy got up to fight again 2 mins later!

I suspect American friends would consider this a really redneck experience.  Much beer is consumed, and the young girls are all in their seductive finery, which seems a tad incongruous to the occasion.  We ate awful burgers, which tasted good, so smothered were they in onions and mustard, and drank coke.  But my god it is fun!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canarian_wrestling

The Full Moon

Many years ago, after being in Tenerife for a while, it dawned on me how much closer to natural things I feel here than I did in England. This feeling is born, I think, partly out of the opportunity to be outdoors much more often, even to sit and read or eat, and partly because of the geology of the place. It is a volcanic island, with sharp, steep mountains and hills, there is almost no coastal plain. Drive upwards for ten minutes and you can think yourself in another place entirely, so removed are you from the coarseness and glitter of the tourist resorts.

Every now and then I see sights which take my breath away, and renew my faith in this planet which is our home: shooting stars, lunar eclipses, spectacular sunsets or sunrises, not to forget the ocean in all its moods.

This week there was something I’ve never witnessed before a moonset. I’ve witnessed awesome moon rises. I’ve rounded a bend in the road in the early nightime and there has been the moon, seeming to touch the earth, enormous and silvery golden. I’ve seen that same moon rising over jagged peaks, looking like it was designed especially by Hollywood for some movie. But a moonset – it was my first.

It was Wednesday, and Nina had already said she was still too ill to run, but I get up early anyway, so I took my coffee out onto my little balcony to see what was stiring. A light in the sky where there normally isn’t one was the first thing I noticed. Odd that it wasn’t moving in the way a plane normally does. Chopper? I wondered. Always bad news if it is hovering over the sea. I scanned the horizon, in other directions, as the first, bleak streaks of dawn began to illuminate the ocean, and then my eyes wandered back to the South West, where that light began to grow. It was then I realized that low, dark clouds were drifting away, and what I was watching was the moon, as it began to sink beneath the horizon.

As the clouds cleared I could see the full moon, glowing as the sun began to rise on the opposite horizon. It appeared almost red, as I stood, transfixed, even had I had a camera good enough to capture the sight I couldn’t have moved for fear of missing the scene. The world around me might have been standing still for all I knew. There certainly wasn’t anyone around, the ocean was at peace for once, just me and a warm breeze …and the moon!

In the absence of fotos I found this on the internet. There weren’t many pictures of this event out there, and this isn’t a full moon even, but it’s the nearest I can find to what I witnessed!

http://www.polarimage.fi/moon/ku05734b.jpg

Maria – I was SO thinking about you! I have only a vague idea of what the time difference might be at the moment, but I was thinking about you standing on a beach somewhere, watching that same moon rising.

Jammu Africa Ismaël Lo on YouTube

Just because

The Old Tramway in Santa Cruz

I was looking up something when I came across this YouTube of the city of Santa Cruz de Tenerife and its tramway, from, I guess a bit less than 100 years ago. Santa Cruz has recently constructed a rather cool, modern tram system, which turned out to be one of those pleasant surprises in life. It was essential to get some traffic off the road between Santa Cruz and the old capital (and World Heritage Site) of La Laguna. When I saw the first car on display a couple of years ago I thought “no way”, but it is smooth, clean, and efficient (and is soon to have wifi!)and makes the travelling between these two little cities a pleasure. Despite the bright colors and streamlined design somehow it fits the bill as it glides past, even when you are sitting quite close in a pavement café.

I was brought up in a town where trams were a normal sight. In fact, when I graduated to Grammar School part of my lonely journey the first few weeks was by tram. So pardon me if they make me a bit nostalgic. I really must find more!