Lentil Salad

I'm eating one, at Cafe Fidel, a block from my flat, 7:30 pm..2 and a half hours before Barcelona's acceptable dinner time. Restaurants, bars, are only beginning to awaken, and will truly come to life between midnight and 2am. So so so so..each moment I'm switched, puzzled, flipped between.."hmm, I could have a go at this, learn spanish, take the Barcelonian theatre world stormwise, and ooooh! look at those cute fucking boots!". Then, like this morning, when I awoke with a cramp in my left leg from sleeping on a cardboard bed, and I show Severine (I know my roommate's name, now) pictures of "home" with vast dramatic oceans, minty redwoods, and blissful loving friends..I think, why did I fucking MOVE here! Why not visit..take a sabbatical..travel Europe..Why did I leave it all to make something else? I was building theater, life, career, community and broke it down to sit in a classroom with potential English teachers who don't know about pronouns, to live in a city who considers beautiful running and bike paths to be those alongside smokestacks and massive discotecs...oooh the lushness of California, Hawaii, Portland have spoiled me..I can breathe there. But I did want an urban experience, I was thinking about moving to New York, this might've been a stopover to another playground. But today, in EFL classes, smiling 70-80 year-old Barcelonians, with their inquisitive eyes and smart jewelry reminded me of what drew me to this place, to European sophistication and ancient multiculturalism..style, art, curiousity. The elderly here sit in the park, talk to one another, dress as though they're employed, look you in the eye. My beautiful Turkish friend, Arda Esol, who is not only an ex-sea captain, but a model/singer (aren't they all, darling?) reminds me, daily, that if I hadn't done this, if I'd stayed in the fresh beauty of my known life, I'd wonder about here, and I'm only here 6/7 days. Patience! So, this is a lesson of my life..I've cultivated patience for children, for friends, for family, where is that wellspring for myself? Patience to allow myself to become.
And this city is charming, despite its ugly beaches, with underground bars in the elbows of cobbled alleys, full cups of red wine lining the filigreed streets, colorful smatterings of vintage shops, herbal gooderys, and blue-eyed, brown, lithe Castellanos. There is more to crack and more of me to be cracked here..hopefully my bed won't be the first to break me down.