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Published: September 20th 2006
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More than a Memory
Just the six of us in Cafe New Orleans, our usual table. Hello Reader.
Now, where was I...?
Last you heard, we had just lost a couple of Belgian twins, Harri's family, and a boyfriend named Laurent. Spirits were high in the group, or as high as could be expected with our inevitable separation only a week or so away... so, not-so-very, in other words. Chrysa, Alice, Harriet, Sue, Mike and I did our parts to keep ourselves together and positive as much as possible during these final days.
We were hanging out with Olivia more (I have mentioned her before - I went out with her for a big night). She's a sweet girl from England. She had been in town for almost as long as Harri and Ali, and also frequented New O's. (There is still much debate/tension as to who went to New Orleans first Olivia or the girls.) She secretly regretted not making the effort to get to know us better sooner, she disclosed to me once. She invited us all over to her house one night for dinner about a week before I left Valencia. She made an awesome hostess! It was THE best salad I've ever had to date, followed by stuffed peppers that
City of Arts and Sciences
Just in case you forgot how cool it was... I'm sure would rival Mr.Castanza's, and strawberries, pineapple, and bananas dipped in chocolate for dessert. We seven (Chrysa, Mike, Sue, Ali, Harri, Olivia, and myself) had a great night and had to roll ourselves home cause we were so full... except for Olivia, cause she was already home.
The next day, Olivia and I went for a walk in the botanical gardens that were right near our respective flats. We spoke a lot about her illness that she had been dealing with the past few years. She had been diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer and had to endure months of chemotherapy and months more of recovery. Knowing a bit about cancer, I completely sympathized with her. But she was not looking for a pity party or anything, she was strong, resilient, and optimistic about the life that she will probably never take for granted. Olivia would be in Valencia for another couple of months or so and would take over my job at the cafe with Jorge and Fina for the remainder of her time there. Oh, yeah, she speaks Spanish and French and will be headed later this year to South America to take care of some endangered
View from the Center
The hostel's skylight. Pumas or some other wild animal that would just as soon eat you as look at you.
Our group had also become close with a couple from Brittany, France. We first befriended them when they had been guests in the hostel and kept in close contact after they found an apartment. We would always meet them for drinks and they were now regulars for fruit salad Wednesdays. Fadime and Gregory were one of those great couples that just fit together. Always smiling, (I like it when people smile a lot), like they were just happy to be in eachothers' presence.
On, say, Tuesday, a week before my final departure, Ali, Harri, Mike, Chrysa, Olivia, and I (Sue was working) headed to the park for a day of relaxation and frisbee. The sun blazed, as it does in Valencia, and Harri and Chrysa practiced a little Yoga. Meanwhile, Olivia and Ali played around on the guitar and Mike and I played frisbee. All the memory needs is those scratchy lines and jumpy frames that you see when you watch your dad's old eight millimeter films of your childhood and 'Wouldn't it be nice?' by the Beach Boys playing in
Ali and Olivia
In the hostel. the background. That night I'm sure we watched a movie, probably some family guy, and at some point we probably tried to make some sort of liquid squirt out of Harri's nose. Ah, aren't these the days worth remembering.
As for our spectacular fruit salad Wednesday, it was immense. I think it was our largest ever. Enough to feed the core six plus the Frenchies, Ben (our friend and the hostel boss), and whomever else who happened to be within earshot. This would be the last time that we would all of us be together for it. Sue would be departing for England for ten days the following day for a friend's wedding. Mike would be heading to Tarifa on Saturday. Ali, Harri, and I would be following him on Monday. How could we NOT make this one incredible.
That afternoon, we all went to New Orleans (are you surprised?) and the six of us took pictures of us sitting at our regular table. We framed one of them and gave it to Jorge and Fina... kind of a going away gift. They accepted it graciously and stood it up on a shelf so everyone could see it.
It will make a nice addition to the collection of many trinkets collected by Fina over the months including all of our (mainly Ali's) tin ashtray etchings, a postcard, a few notes left on the back of coasters, and, more than likely, a lock of my hair.
That night, Harriet and I bought a cheap bottle of gin and some tonic. We, meaning just she and I, drank that night. The others watched, bewildered, as the two of us progressed further and further into a state of infancy. Our conversations consisted of nothing more than us just laughing at eachother back and forth... okay, I admit it... we were giggling like a couple of old, senile blue-hairs. It was fun for us, until Ali poured the rest of the gin down the sink drain. She
claims to have drank (dranken...? drunk...? drunken...? dronk...?) it, but my keen (and only slightly inebriated) eye caught her mid-pour... but, to be fair, it could have very well been Diego scratching his ear or just a pillow cushion.
Sue's final day. A Thursday. Before Sue's flight, we (the six of us plus Nora(h) and Olivia) met at New O's for a last
drink (by the way, I think there was a total of seven or eight 'last drinks' at New O's before I finally departed). To lighten the mood, Jorge and Fina passed out Cava (sparkling wine), free food, and pink rimmed cowboy hats. We made light conversation, all of us pretending not to acknowledge the fact that this really was 'it'. By the time Sue would get back, I would be long gone for good. (Mike would return after a couple of weeks, but by then Alice and Harriet would have gone back to England.) The minutes passed and it got quieter and quieter, or maybe we just stopped paying attention to what we all knew was pointless, cover-up chatter. Sue stood up and started her hugs, by the time she got to me, her bottom lip was trembling and her eyes couldn't hold back anymore tears. We hugged for a while, pink rimmed cowboy hats and all. A good hug like those that you get from real, good friends. Everyone sat watching us. I could feel her sobbing, but couldn't hear because her face was buried in my shoulder.
She let go and with a commanding but shaking voice
Gregory, Fadime, and Sad Me
Reminds me of the Dakota, Eric, and Harri picture from Las Fallas. said 'You keep in touch, matey!' I sat down and looked around the table to see that everyone was crying and someone had spit on Ali's face. Sue came back for one more hug before she left. We all sat for a moment in silence.
One down, four to go.
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Gus_Granada_Spain
Jose Luis Esteban
Nice post
..tengo un nudo en la garganta...