June 9th 2017
Manoir du Ster
It already seems like I have been here a week, with all that I have done and learned.
After walking about 6 km with my two backpacks because I went the wrong way twice from the bus stop, I finally arrived at the Manoir du Ster. I hadn’t really thought about what to expect, other than that there would be a Llama and a few more animals. Manoir du Ster is not a farm, and also not exactly a hotel. It is more like a vacation house ten minutes by foot away from the beach, with a beautiful back yard, and animals walking around freely. Even though the Manoir is one big house, it is sectioned off into different smaller areas, and I assume that each vacation “section” has a kitchen and bathrooms. Sophie, who I had emailed briefly with, greeted me at the door. She was on her way to go kayaking in the ocean and just quickly showed me where my room was – across the yard from the main house (section). In my room there are two beds, an old wooden wardrobe, a little sink, and a little desk – more than what I had hoped for. She told me I could eat dinner with les filles and asked if I could cook rice. Sophie speaks English fairly well and can luckily repeat the important things that I don’t understand. The language barrier makes things more difficult than I thought it would. Sure, I remember that the first weeks in Bolivia I wasn’t able to ask where the trash an is because I didn’t know that basurero is the word for trash can (in French, I have learned, it is poubele. I remember that I would mix up the words for money and plate and I thought at first that the word for knife was the word for spoon. And that was ok, it was funny and normal. I guess that is why I was not prepared for the isolating effect that not being able to communicate hardly at all has. After all I spoke better Spanish when I arrived in Santa Cruz than the little French that I have taught and retaught myself over the last few weeks. I thought that I would get by. And I have gotten by fine the past two days, even though it has cost the people I am working with patience. The point is I would like to communicate. I would like to both understand conversations and then be able to express myself. I am not sure how well I will be able to do those things after the next three weeks, but I will for sure understand and maybe talk a bit better than I do now.
Birds in the Kitchen
Yesterday morning, right after getting up, Sophie asked me to clean out the bird cages above the kitchen. Imagine this: The kitchen is a rather open space with a family high ceiling and lots of light. Able one side of the kitchen is a second-floor-platform upon which five or six birdcages stand. A net covers the balcony between this platform in the kitchen, originally intended that the birds – some of which fly around the space – do not come down into the kitchen. There is a large hole in the net, though, so that there are usually five parokees and a parrot flying around in the kitchen. It is fascinating to watch. My new friend, Elene, an elderly woman with a slight mental disability, taught me the names of all the birds right when I arrived, and is also helping me learn the names of kitchen utensils and other objects. She is such a kind lady and has such a positive energy about her that one can’t help but smile and be happy and positive in her company, too. My other tasks of the yesterday involved more cleaning and cooking, so that by the end of the day I was completely exhausted. I went to the beach for a little bit and sat there watching the waves. It was cloudy though, and got quite chilly towards the later evening.
Une cartouche
When I got back from the beach, we welcomed a new guest to the hostel. Madame Domenique is an elderly lady from somewhere close to Paris, who will be staying at the Manoir for two weeks. I didn't understand much of what she was telling me, just that she has diabetes. I helped her unpack her things and arranged them in he closet for her, because that would have been very exhausting for her. I wish that I could have understood her better and had been able to reply.
When I was done arranging everything I found one last little item, a small pouch in Domenique’s suitcase. I didn’t know what it was so I asked her how you call it in French. She told me that it is une cartouche, a little sowing kit. She told me that I could have it. I didn’t know how to thank her other than saying merci beaucoup many times. This was my moment of sunshine this day.
When we were sitting with Elene in the living room, she told Elene (and me) that her husband had passed away two years ago. Elene did not really respond much, other than changing the topic to something happy, because Domenique was a bit upset. I so much wanted to comfort her and just didn’t know how. I really like Domenique and hope that we can grow a bit closer over the next two weeks.
Memories of Arterias Urbanas
I swept and rearranged the Patio today, after getting up a bit earlier than yesterday (which is good because I’m also not as tired and exhausted today!). Cleaning up the concrete floor outside reminded me of Arterias in Santa Cruz, and of the many many times I swept the floor in the Taller, mostly without any success. It was nice to reminisce while doing the mindless work of sweeping. Thinking about Bolivia now—there are also five murals on the walls of the Manoir, painted by a Latin American Artist who has also painted murals in Bolivia and Chile and I believe Venezuela. Who would have known that these two places connect so much? The murals are beautiful, full of references to anti gene-mutilation and capitalism, but also to Latin American culture.
Le Fac et Le Gateau Kayakese
After lunch today I was lucky to go kayaking in the ocean with Sophie. Without doubt, that little trip has been my favorite of the entire journey so far. Even though the kayak was extremely hard to Cary to the beach, the backpain was worth it once we were in the water and surrounded by nothing but sunshine and blistering water. We paddled until we got to a group of stones quite a ways off the shore. The blue water contrasted the orange water plants, ant the white couldn't reflected in the ocean. It was beautiful. All of a sudden Sophie pointed out a young seal (Fac) to me. The young seal recognized her and came up to the kayak to caress her feet. It was beautiful to watch. Sophie went swimming with the seal, and her normally rather stern face lit up with joy. As the seal swam up to the kayak again, I reached my hand into the water and got to pet its head.
Before making our way back, we had some tea and a bit of banana bread (gateau) that Elene and I had made the day before. It was delicious.
I am so grateful to be here. Moments like sitting in the sun in from of my room and seeing young seals make up for all the moments of loneliness