For Good

I was at a tiny used bookshop in Córdoba when I got the call. Actually, it was the third call. The first came while I was catching a ride with co-workers into the city and the second was while I was touring the pleasantly tourist-free Mezquita. Finally, on the persistent third call I decided to step outside and answer. I wasn’t annoyed by the persistency, but I was nervous to answer simply because I knew who was calling from a previous voicemail—it was a Spanish woman, a wife and mother of two, who wanted private classes for herself and her family. On that day in November, I only briefly spoke with her to tell her that I was out of town with a visiting American friend and I would call her back soon.

My first class with Carmen and Carlos was only a week later. When we finally spoke on the phone, Carmen stipulated that she wanted a conversation class for her and her husband together with an additional class just for her husband, who was at a lower level of English than she. She also wanted the children to be present and for me to interact with them so they could have exposure to the language. Little Carlos and Noe were 4 and 2 respectively when I began. I was so nervous that first day. These would be only my second group of private lesson students in town and the truth was I had no idea what I was doing giving classes. Everyone said to just give classes even if I felt unqualified because Spaniards, especially in a pretty English-free pueblo, really just wanted a real native speaker to talk to and practice with. I taught myself the ropes of private lessons as I taught them.

The thing is, I’ve been giving private lessons to Carmen and Carlos twice a week for 7 months now and they have done more for me, meant more to me, and taught me more than I could ever have done for them.

This family took me in from week one. I mean it, week one. They found out about American Thanksgiving and invited me over for a comida (a big Spanish meal) so that I wouldn’t have to be alone. I was so nervous but excited to go. I didn’t know them well but they had a way of making me feel instantly at ease. They were easy to interact with, I could understand their Spanish and they were encouraging of mine, their children were the most precious I had ever met and I just loved them from the get-go. That first meal was one of my turning points in my experience in Spain. I spoke Spanish the entire afternoon, played happily with the sweet little ones, and bonded with Carmen and Carlos. I felt so bright from the inside out as I walked home in the pouring rain, a tray of dessert under my arm.

{May 28, 2011}

This post would literally go on forever if I continued to detail every kind thing this family has done for me, every adorable moment I’ve had with Carlosito and Noe, or every way that they have made my time here the success that it is. They are the people I feel most comfortable with in Spain, and actually anywhere, and they are truly my Spanish family. I love them. I really do.

Considering how much they’ve done for me and how many happy comidas we have had together, I sort of expected that we would have one last meal together before I left. By last week there had been no invitation—it wasn’t that I felt I deserved one, I just hoped for one because I wanted a last get together with them outside of classes. Well, they one-uped my expectations and invited me home to Carmen’s pueblo for the weekend! I was nervous of what her family would think of me, but didn’t hesitate to say yes.

It was such a treat and an honor to spend a few days in Carmen’s childhood home. I could feel the love and friendship the family has for me and it’s just what I feel in return. Carmen wanted to share everything with me so we spend hours (all of us—Carlos, the kids, Carmen’s father and brother) walking through the tiny pueblo of Cazalla de la Sierra and out into the campo to see the animals and get a good view. We picked up a dozen pastries from a local confitería because Carmen and Carlos wanted me to try everything. I was compelled to eat til I was bursting! I couldn’t get over the small-town charm…when Noe pointed at a roll of chocolates in the glass counter that he wanted, the woman who owned the confitería didn’t hesitate to give it to him free of charge as a gift to an old family friend’s son.

On Saturday we drove out to see the pueblo’s patron, la Virgen de la Monte. She’s kept in a beautiful little church perched on a mountain side with incredible green views. Carmen’s dad not only fitted me with a new baseball cap for the occasion but also bought me a little Virgen charm from the church. We then drove down to a pleasant little river, Ribera, where there was a shady picnic area and a rocky beach where you could wade in. I stayed dry on a rock and watched Carlosito have a blast in the cool flowing water.

So many people have made a difference in my life here in Spain, so many people will never be forgotten. No kind act has gone unnoticed or unappreciated, from a small compliment in passing to a kind shop assistant who was patient with me when I first arrived and blundered through my Spanish. But I can say without a doubt that the phone call I received from Carmen in November asking me for lessons was an act of God. I was suffering, floundering, trying to count up the good things and failing, and he sent me a family to take care of me. He gave me a family to love, a place where I could feel comfortable and safe, where I could let down my guards, practice my Spanish, and feel like I had a bit of home.

I love Carlos, Carmen, Carlosito and Noe very dearly. I look forward to keeping in touch with them for years to come, and with luck seeing them again both here and in the United States in the not-so-distant future. I will miss Carmen’s soft voice and sweet encouragements. I will miss Carlos’ wide smile and enthusiasm for American music. I will miss Carlosito’s quiet manner and bright grin and his love of playing games with me. I will miss precious little Noe’s chubby cheeks and adorably assertive manner when he calls “Kate” (with perfect pronounciation!) and then demands something or other. I will miss them so much.

But because I knew them, I have been changed for good.