Encounters

  Immersing yourself in a community – especially a foreign community – is a bit daunting. At home, we take for granted the casual interactions with coworkers, going out with friends at night, throwing a party, or simply finding our way around the neighborhood. In a new country, hombre, even a country that is so similar to your own, you have to learn to navigate.

 After relocating to a small town on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, I am slowly beginning to learn the rhythms of life here, and appreciate the encounters with people in this town. Walking down the street towards my house on our first day, an elderly gentleman with a blue collared shirt, nearly bald head, and many wrinkles, stood at his doorstep, asking for money. At first I was shocked, and shook my head. But then, he laughed and I realized he was only playing a joke on me, a girl he had never met.

 A few days later, I passed by this gentleman’s house again. He remembered me, and commented on the foreboding weather. We agreed that we had no idea what it was going to be like that day, but that it looked uncharacteristically cloudy. I do not know this man’s name, but I am certain I will see him again and we will continue to joke around when I pass by his doorstep.

 The encounter with this man has not been my only one in Sanlucar. I am beginning to know – or at least recognize – the kind women who work behind the desk at the library, the guys who run the local gym, the bartender who has pictures of his family at Disney World behind the bar, the young couples and families who enter and exit our apartment complex, and the countless women in floral house-dresses and slippers cleaning the gates of their homes.

 No matter where you roam in life, there will always be people living, waiting, happy to exchange a brief word or conversation to brighten your day when you are feeling far from home.