Spanish Handshakes

In this exact instant I find myself in the center seat of the 23rd row of a Virgin America airplane. Besides the constant humming of jet engine combined with random soft jolts of slight turbulence the cabin is completely silent. Takeoff was only thirty minutes ago and as music is  playing in my white earbuds my good friend Jack Colombo is in the chair next to me. 

It's been six months since riding in an airplane and despite the limited leg space and lack of free movies it feels good to be on the move towards somewhere again. The last time I looked out the window of a moving plane it was to return home from teaching English in Murcia, Spain at the beginning of the summer. Our landing destination will be New York, Jack's current stomping grounds. The plan is to celebrate New Years in Brooklyn this upcoming Thursday, mix in some random exploring around the Big Apple, hopefully catch up with a few other longtime friends who are living in this part of the East Coast, then leaving the city on January 4th.

Upon arriving home last June I didn't know what the future would look like. I didn't know that I'd be going to New York for New Years. It was vastly uncertain if I'd be teaching English in Spain for a consecutive school year. It was unknown that I'd land a pretty fun wine bar job in San Francisco and meet a lot of interesting people there. I didn't know how fortunate I'd be to have reconnected with close friends and family since coming back to the Bay Area.

I also didn't know that on January 4th, 2016 I would book a one way ticket back to Spain.

After hanging out with Jack in New York the plane that will send me away from the city won't travel back towards California, it will head accross the Atlantic for a layover in Copenhagen then finally touching ground in Barcelona. 

In this exact moment there isn't a single day of accommodation booked, nor is there an official itinerary once in Spain. The first goal for this trip is first take some time to simply "be" in Barcelona, to drink a black coffee in an open plaza somewhere or possibly try to learn some Catalan words in dim lit bar. The most important and possibly only "real" reason for being back in Spain is to return to Murcia to see my former housemates, English teacher friends, the staff of Nuestra Señora de los Angeles and Vicente Medina, and to see the kids who I once helped teach last school year. 

Being home has been great but I really miss the people who were an important part of the experience that was living in Murcia. Seeing some of them again will be a blessing and I'm not sure how it will feel beyond absolute joy. 

After revisiting, sharing hugs and then handshakes with friends of last year the rest of this trip will be guided by chance and a desire to let Spanish breeze decide.

I don't know how long this will all last, maybe a few weeks or possibly a couple months. I don't know where buses and BlaBla cars will end up taking me. Sunrises and sunsets are the only things I know will happen once Jack and I starting walking towards the exit of the New York airport.

The other only thing I do know is that I'm sitting in an airplane, the leg room is ample, and there is a smile on my face. It's time to enjoy the ride. 

If you've read this far, thank you! Have a great New Year and keep doing what makes you happy :)

 

Those Days in December

On August 13th, 2015 I opened up a newly purchased black moleskin journal and started writing about my day.

It was a Thursday evening and I don't remember my mood or why I decided to scribble in it's first lines during that particular moment.

"Today is Thursday and in this exact moment there is only an hour left in my day at work." 

Nothing more and nothing less was written. For the past few years I have been slowly filling black journals in hopes of remembering small moments, names of people, dates, ideas, and things that have been happening around me. Inside I want my future self to read about these mostly random accounts in order to not forget about experiences.

The moleskin that was started for no real reason on August 13th, 2015 is currently sitting opened faced in front of me atop the faded wood of my families' coffee table located centrally within the breakfast nook of our house.

I find myself seated and a semi-fresh cup of kind-of hot coffee is being guarded by one hand while a black inked pen is in marching formation within a tangle of right hand fingers.

After nearly four months of traveling between my hands and pockets, my backpack, forgotten at work, the backseat of my car and countless coffee shop tables, I find myself looking at a blank page within the now faded in color journal.

The last page.

A single sheet of paper is the last line of defense before purchasing another 190 something page directory of wanderings and going from prologue to epilogue.

It was hard to know that four months would go by before finding myself here in this moment, sitting above this book like a human balloon, looking for a way to properly end a chapter of personal accounts.

I didn't know back in August that I'd writing about being a year older, about attending my high school's ten year reunion, celebrating Thanksgiving in addition to Halloween before reaching the end of this moleskin booklet. Those events mixed with scribbles about meeting up with friends, going to work, being with my parents and describing various surroundings have filled most of this leather companion's contents.  Reflecting on four months of writing has made me grateful for friends and family and they have been a great source of inspiration not only in writing but also to be a better person. I feel blessed to have them in my life, and to you who is reading this I also feel honored that you have taken time to read this blog post.

With one sheet left I don't really know what to write. Some notes about how the current December day has progressed would be appropriate. I ate some really good breakfast tacos earlier today, maybe that would be worth remembering. Or possibly a random thought that just popped into my mind might seem interesting the next time the booklet finds itself fully opened between the palms of an older self's hands.

With pen tip slightly angled and pressed upon the top left corner of the very last page I feel joyed to be at this point, to have gone this far not only in this particular notebook but in life.

Looking back, the past four months are something I would never elect to replace and it's great to have experienced them. In an instant everything can change, and it's impossible to know what December 11th, 2015 will look like. It feels good to simply be here now.

Gazing to the side window my attention is temporarily distracted by a passing car.  I press firmly with the black inked pen between the grey lines of the very last page.

It's just a day in December, but this time I know what mood I'm in.

"If you've made it this far, don't stop, keep going."

Outside it's raining. I can sense that it's almost time to get ready for work.

If I hurry maybe I can swing by the bookstore.

So There I Am

Inside my mind there sits a medley of words floating through a dark void, with no actual direction in which to go. Once a sentence begins to form or take shape it quickly gets scattered like pool balls within an invisible green canvas. Each building block falls apart as more letters circle within my head and no combination seems to take form. Letters begin meeting letters but soon they disappear into a blackness that doesn't want to spit them back out.

For months I have logged into this page, stared at the header, and looked blankly at the black button keyboard of my computer as if waiting for a chess match to begin. A desire to write has sent me back to this blog, ready to take lead in a keyboard tapping partner dance, with hopes of inspiration rising inside like the gradual smoking of an active volcanic mountain. One spark of a free flowing sentence might be the turning point towards a vertical eruption of fiery wordplay lava. One sentence or partial phrase would take temporary haven along a seemingly secure first line but soon would be washed away by a fierce wall of erase button.

Since September this blog has gone through more drafts than a group of friends in an affordable happy hour. Half a page here, a paragraph there, and the only thing keeping me from completely deleting them is that I want my future self to look back and recall how blocked from writing I currently find myself. Glancing at the wreckage of semi constructed posts I feel like a general feeling nothing but pain for his poorly equipped army. The only person to blame is myself, and a flatline of inspiration.

Closing my eyes I can see myself seated uncomfortably in a wooden sail boat, waiting for a gust of wind to take me somewhere, anywhere. The rickety boat, along with this blog, hasn't been moving in any one direction and now the question of dropping anchor and swimming to shore is becoming a higher possibility.

If I made an escape towards land will I ever step foot again on the dock that sent that boat out there in the first place? I slice the tips of my fingers through the chilly liquid surface and upon retracting my hand out of wetness my shoulders send a slight shiver of cold discontent. I chill of memories from prior posts leaves me staring out towards what looks like absolutely nothing.

In a breath I turn my head and look out towards the horizon, towards a completely still field of blue water. Trying to search for the exact line separating sky from sea not a single sensation of natural breeze can be felt. As time continues I soon begin forgetting why I want wind to continue guiding the boat forward, and also don't really see a destination for which to captain it. It's becoming increasingly hard to gaze outward, maybe out of brightness from a now slowly dropping sun as it reflects off of the watery panel in front of me or possibly out of internal fatigue from trying to focus for so long. Before the sun fully sets I want to try and make at least a little progress towards somewhere, however when I try to paddle with my hands the boat simply rotates in an awkward splashing fashion.

I've been waiting for too long for that wind to take me away. Who knows when or if it will ever show it's blustery face again.

It's almost completely dark. Looking out one more time I don't even know if it's the horizon that I'm staring at. I turn towards the back end of the boat, hanging my legs over the side, contemplating a possible goodbye to this old yet loyal wooden partner in wanders that has been a part of me since the days of Missoula, since echoes of dogs barking on rooftops, since looking for shade in El Esparragal, and then..

....open my eyes.



So there I am.

Somewheres and Other Wheres

Three months ago today I was still an English language assistant living in a Murcia, Spain. The eight month teaching contract was nearing a close, the emotional last days of class at Nuestra Señora de los Angeles and Vicente Medina were sneaking closer into sight, and a plane destined for home was already booked. On June 1st, 2015 I can't remember what exactly I was doing, maybe waiting for a bus or possibly having a beer with friends in a shady plaza somewhere. The only thing I can remember from this day in time is what was on my mind. 

Will I come back to Murcia?

In early June I was offered a new contract to return to Murcia for the 2015-2016 school year. I remember telling myself that by September 1st (Today) a final decision will need to be made as to whether a return to teaching in Murcia will be happening next school year. 

Upon returning home, reuniting with family and friends, two lists were made. One was titled "Why I will come back to Murcia" and the other "Why I will stay home." Within minutes the list for why I would come back to Murcia grew quite long. I was fortunate in meeting some incredible people, many of whom I now consider to be lifelong friends. The schools in Azarbe and El Esparragal were incredible, the children were wonderful, and thinking of them makes me feel nothing but absolute joy. Coming to Murcia I wasn't just visiting, I truly felt like I was a citizen of this hardly visited yet vastly underrated city. 

It's been almost three months since writing that first initial list. Like a race between hares and tortoises the list for "Why I will stay home" has slowly been catching up. I forgot how much I missed my family. I forgot how relaxed I felt after watching the sun reflect across the icy blue of the Sausalito bay. Seeing a favorite band with friends who have been there since days of homeroom is something irreplaceable. Mexican food still tastes amazing, and through two jobs I have met some really cool people. 

Three months later I found myself last night at 11:29pm with a list completely tied. Less than thirty minutes remained in what was my personal deadline for coming to internal terms with a plan. With both sides completely equal and still not a clue as to what seemed like a better decision I came to the conclusion that I really want to do both. I deeply want to be in Murcia, to continue with what was started there and see where life goes, but I also really want to be here in the Bay Area because there is nothing love for this place. 

If I chose Murcia I would have to leave in about three weeks from today, tell the bosses of my two jobs that I'm leaving, and say bye again to a lot of people who I had only recently reconnected with. If I chose home I wouldn't be experiencing a new school, new travel destinations, and wouldn't be building on the friendships that were birthed only almost a year ago. 

Blankly staring at the list last night at 11:29pm I sat up from the couch where I was seated, got up, brushed my teeth then washed my face because it was almost time for bed. I walked up the stairs to my room and instead of directly turning off the lights before sleep I grabbed a coin. 

For three months I had been racking my brain, driving myself slightly mad with uncertainty like an unsettled white capped sea, and thinking about where, where, and where. Holding a dollar coin with James Garfield's golden face on it I was sick asking myself questions and ready to move forward towards somewhere or other wheres. 

It was now time for chance to decide. I flipped the coin and closed my eyes. 

If it landed "heads" I would go back to Murcia, if it landed "tails" I would stay home, continue saving up, and continue towards something else.

The coin, along with my stomach, spun for probably two seconds before it connected with fuzzy blue carpet.

I opened my eyes and searched for a shiny golden circle in a sea of faded blue. 

Tails.

With a handful of minutes to spare before midnight I officially decided to turn down a teaching position in Murcia, Spain. I deeply apologize to the school in El Infante where I was assigned for this upcoming year but know that whoever is coming in my place will do an amazing job, probably better than what I would do. Thank you to La Consejeria for the consideration and support. 

With only a handful of minutes before midnight I made a new deadline. December 1st, 2015. 

On December 1st, 2015 I don't know what I'll be doing or what I'll be thinking about. Maybe I'll be waiting for a bus or having a beer with friends. The only thing I do know is where I'll be. 

I'm going to be in Murcia, Spain. This time not as an English teacher but as wanderer with dusty shoes, and more importantly as a friend.  

The coin that's now in my hand bares the image of the Statue of Liberty with the inscription "United States of America." This is where I'll be staying...for now :)

To whoever has taken time out of there day to read this I really appreciate your time, and I also really appreciate you :) 

Sincerely,

Daniel Catena 

In Between American Dreams

Note: Written last night, finished in this exact moment :)

Currently as I write this post there is only one hour left in what was a Monday in late July. The room where I'm seated is completely quiet except for a barely recognizable chatter between unknown people on a random television program.

Sitting on a soft white couch in my living room, my fingers as they tap keyboard are the creating the largest disturbance to the otherwise tranquil house. 

Somewhere else my two new roommates are sleeping so this post is being written as silently as possible. The people sleeping in the house where I'm currently living aren't Lola or Lucia, the people who I lived with for nine months in Murcia: They are my parents, and this "current" place of residence is the house where I grew up in Sausalito, California. Being the last one awake in the house is a tradition we have been keeping for many years now so it feels comfortably familiar to be keeping it going :)

Since returning home from Spain practically a month ago life has changed, in some aspects instantaneously and others quite gradually. 

People walk differently, traffic flows a little differently, conversations between people flow at different paces, and simply the wind hits your face differently. Some friends are now engaged, some have kids, some have new jobs, some are newly single, and some haven't been in touch at all. It's been nice catching up with important people after nine months of temporary absence and refreshing to feel a part of their lives once again.

Slang words that had previously been left in the mental attic have now been opened up like last year's Christmas present. People expect tips, expect you to wait in line, don't get upset if you to pay with credit or debit cards, and it's common to experience good restaurant service. Instead of walking or checking tranvia/bus schedules between places there now exists my own car. It's horribly great how easy I can have access to Goldfish Crackers, Mexican food, and mouth inferno hot sauces again. I can go into a public bathroom and expect there to be soap and hand towels not just one or the other. You can catch people mid conversation about the 49ers rather than debating about who will play against Real Madrid. The scorching white Murcian sun has been replaced by the marshmallow fog of the Bay Area. It's been odd being home but at the same time it's been like a breathe of fresh California air. I don't have to worry about being hot, translating verbs inside my head, or sounding like an American speaking horrible Spanish.

Despite being home from Spain for a month now, the rhythm of home has taken slower to readjust. The first time going grocery shopping in America I accidentally walked into a woman with her food cart, cut off an elderly man between checkout stands, and had absolutely no idea where salad dressing was located. Looking around the store I felt lost with how many options there existed and found myself blocking the flow of store traffic. Like common household items, future plans beyond living with my parents is completely hidden somewhere between unseen store aisles, possibly between the bread and organic hand soap.

Outside of seeing friends, being with family, and taking in the much desired local flavors of home there has been one major goal since returning to the United States: Get a job, save money, decide on the next life step. I'm hoping that achieving one goal will be a gateway towards the others.

So far I have been lucky in landing a part time wine bar job in San Francisco where three nights a week I pretend to know the difference between Merlot and Syrah. After sending dozens of resumes and savaging Craigslist, Monster, and Indeed like that was my second occupation there are some promising opportunities that could surface within the next couple weeks.

One month since between stateside there exists a good chance I will go back to Murcia at the end of September to start a second school year teaching English. However there is a chance I will try to save some money and teach somewhere else, potentially Colombia. There is also a chance that I will land a "career" job and stay stateside for a long time. At this point there is a really good chance of anything happening and it's vastly uncertain where the next steps in life direct themselves. The one thing that has surfaced through the internal lake of life decisions is that one more year of teaching English is something that I really want to accomplish. 

Despite not knowing what exactly the next clear decision will be, having more experiences with good friends and family has been like a resurgence of vitamins missing from a daily diet. Doing brunches, seeing concerts, grabbing a quick beer or simply watching a quick inning of a baseball game on television have been simple experiences that I have greatly missed during my time in Spain. I've missed seeing close friends from home and I also sincerely missed being a close friend. Being back home I feel blessed to have the friends I grew up with and seeing them again, family included, has had more importance than passport stamps. 

As these final words flash along the whiteness of computer screen I don't know what time I'll wake up tomorrow, or even know what the next fifteen minutes post overdo blog posting will look like. The unknown is a little terrifying, yet silently like this house it's something I want to hold onto because I know that soon there will be concrete plans and a definite direction towards something. Having no idea keeps life interesting and forces you to be more "here" than "everywhere else."

The only thing I want to do is embrace not having a clue, being in between jobs, in between plans, and in between dreams.

Cheers for now, you look beautiful, have a nice day :)

Blowing Out the Candles

Today is Tuesday and this blogpost marks my last day in Spain. I find myself drinking a recently brewed cup of coffee in Cafe Haskell, the home away from home that happens to remind me of being home. With quotes from Oscar Wilde about San Francisco painted on its faded blue walls and vintage photos of the Golden Gate Bridge the mental preparation for the upcoming change of scenery is progressing with calmness.

While enjoying what could be my last cup of brew in Murcia I am waiting for pictures to upload onto my computer. The photos being saved are those from a six day trip taken last week to Denmark and Sweden. Knowing that my days in Europe were reaching an end I wanted to say hello to some longtime friends who I haven't seen in quite a while.

After initially flying into Copenhagen I took a Danish version of BlaBla Car to Aarhus, the second largest city Denmark, to see Lonnie and Mia. We met traveling two years ago and the last memory  had of them was seeing them board a passenger bus going towards a destination that I cannot remember. During our two day reunion we visited the ARoS Art Museum, wandered through a sculpture exhibit along the sea, went to an Irish pub trivia, visited the Old Town Museum, and had some amazing homemade Stegt flæsk (sounds like Stick Flisk) which is mostly made with savory bacon. Seeing them again was a truly wonderful experience and I'm looking forward to our next reunion.

The visit in Aarhus was short lived and quickly I boarded a train destined to Copenhagen airport where I would go north into Sweden. After landing in the Stockholm Arlanda airport I booked a bus to Uppsala, a university city that sits within lushly green Swedish countryside. A beautiful and massive brick cathedral overlooks the seemingly tranquil student atmosphere. After a forty minute ride a familiar face was waiting for me at the bus stop. Five years ago Malin, one of my best friends, and I said goodbye to each other in an airport without knowing when we would meet again. We kept in touch and seeing her was truly a surreal experience. Currently living in Uppsala, Malin showed me around her city for a day and we also spent a full day in Stockholm, Sweden's capital. Between salsa dancing in Uppsala, ferry rides through the capital's harbor, and wandering around Stockholm's Gamla Stan, seeing her again was something that will forever keep me in a good mood. We ended our time together similar to how we said farewell five years ago, with backpacks on our shoulders and smiles on our faces. She left for her hometown to see family, and I returned to Stockholm Arlanda airport in order to bounce back down to Copenhagen. 

At eleven in the evening I found myself back in Denmark's largest city, and this time the plan was to stay here for a couple days. A second familiar face greeted me at the airport's large exit terminal. Five years ago, in the same exact hostel where I first met Malin, I met another really great person. Cille, who is from a smaller city in Denmark, is someone who I only spoke with for about an hour in person. The theme of our conversation is something that I truly don't remember but we decided to share emails and planned to keep in touch. For five years we maintained contact and now we were finally going to meet up again. We spent just one full day together with her brother Niles but it was a day that I will remember for the rest of my life. We walked through Copenhagen Park, around the original Carlsberg Brewery, wandered along the colorful Nyhan district waterfront, took a ferry tour, explored the bohemian Christiania, and climbed the tower of The Church of Our Saviour. This was all accomplished before five in the afternoon when Cille and her brother had to hop a train for their hometown. After saying farewell for the first time in five years I spent the rest of the day with Severin, Cille and Nile's older brother, where we relaxed and had pizza while watching some movies. The next morning I left Copenhagen via plane and was greeted by the unforgettable high temperatures of Murcia. 

Sitting here in Cafe Haskell there is steaming cup of emotions swirling in front of me, more intense than the nearly pitch black espresso and water resting next to my computer. I feel completely thankful to have had the opportunity to see Lonnie, Mia, Malin, Cille, Niles, and Severin. Encounters like these really make me believe that life is a gift and I feel grateful to have an experience like this. This was special and I know that the next time we all meet again will be memorable as well. 

The time for reminiscing on the previous week will have to be short lived because once I finish my coffee a lot of packing will have to take place. With only a handful of hours remaining in Spain I still haven't done laundry nor have I packed my bag.

To be honest I'm not sure how it feels to be leaving Murcia. I'm ready to see family and friends from home again, ready to eat Mexican food, ready to watch baseball games and ready to hopefully get a job for the summer. I'm ready to be a more present son and better friend to the people I grew up with again. However despite all the "readiness" there is a great deal of sadness. This small, almost completely overlooked Spanish city is now a home rather than travel destination and to walk away leaves a sour taste in my mouth, possibly influenced by the sugarless coffee now in my hand.

Thanks to reunions of last week I know deep down that the friendships made here in Spain will not be forgotten. We will see each other again, get tapas in a plaza somewhere, and share more memories somewhere in life. 

There is one sip left in my drink, the equivalent of few more moments of candlelight here in Murcia before this life chapter becomes darkened by period marks and departing flights. 

Take good care of yourself Murcia, thank you for accepting me, for sharing your culture, and for all of the wonderful memories. I love you.

Blowing out the candle I can hear winds coming up from the Sahara as they flow nothing but fiery invisible waves through the city streets.  

The brightness of the sun blinds me for a quick moment as I send a silent step outside the cafe. The winds are calling. 

They say it's time to go home. 

Counting Days like Turtles

It's only eight o'clock in the morning and already the piercing white orb of Murcian sunrise is sending a slight sting along the side of my face.

I find myself sitting in a cruising ALSA bus as it escapes the cities' urban horizon and destined towards the airport in nearby Alicante. As of a few days ago my Student Visa for Spain expired and now I am officially a Tourist looking out the window of this progressing form of transport. Teaching contract officially completed I am celebrating by leaving the country for a short while. 

Today marks the beginning of what will be a six to seven day trip in Northern Europe in order to visit friends in Denmark and Sweden. Within the span of about six hours I will be seeing Lonnie and Mia, two girls who live in Aarhus, Denmark. We haven't seen one another since the spring of 2013 so this reunion is coming with much anticipation. After seeing them I plan on hopping a second plane to Stockholm Sweden in order to see Malin, a close friend who I haven't seen in five years. After Stockholm there will be a return to Denmark wiith at least two days spent in Copenhagen doing some wandering with Cecillia, a girl who I haven't also seen in five years.

The timing of this trip couldn't be better. With only two weeks left before flying home to the United States it is essential to see these really great people before the time zones between us grow larger. It's also nice to get out of Murcia because currently the vast majority of American English teachers (Auxiliares de Conversacion) have already left the city. Saying farewell to close friends such as Susana, Tom, Alvin, and Cynthia, mixed with giving final presentations at both primary schools where I was contracted makes the reality of change feel like the vacant seat to my left is occupied with an overly emotional invisible passenger.

Seeing the massive exodus of friends from Murcia brings back flashes of the pivotal first days after moving to Spain. I didn't know where I was going, what the next day was good to look like, or even how to ask for directions. This time around I know how to ask for directions but still have no idea where I'm going. In two weeks the world is going to change yet again and it's something that leaves me excited yet increasingly vague like the changing of wind patterns.

A few days ago Lucia, Lola, and myself went to Puerto de Lumbreras near Lorca to work alongside a volunteer project that was gathering to count Tortugas Moras (a kind of land based turtle). Despite finding very few turtles we had a fun time, met some really nice people, and got free paella. This might have been the last trip the three of us will do together for a while because it's hard to say if Lucia will be in Madrid or Murcia when I get back from Denmark. 

This bus is punctual and I can see signs indicating that Alicante is fairly close. Despite the echoes of goodbyes still vibrating within my consciousness the desire to say "hello" again is rapidly elevating in priority. I feel absolutely blessed to have the opportunity to see Lonnie, Mia, Malin, and Cecillia again after such a long gap of living. The last time we all saw one another could have been the final moments of our friendship but we kept in touch and now here we are :) This trip is inspiration to keep in contact with the amazing people who I met in Murcia because if we want to see one another agiain, it surely will happen. 

The number of turtles we found near Lorca matches how much time is left before starting a new chapter in life, not a lot. The only thing I can do is be present in the moment and more importantly be thankful. 

Peace, love, and hold the biscuits. I'll eat them later. 

Daniel Anetac (Catena)