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Valencia 2013

An evening at L’Hermita

I had fun last night though, at the little conversation group at L’Hermita.

I talked to a youngish woman from an aldea, I think is the word, a tiny town it means.  In Galicia.  She taught me the word for bagpipe.  I wrote it down.  They play them in Galicia-  which comes from Gaul, you prolly know.  They were/are Gauls/Celts.  She was really sweet, a pleasure to talk to.  Then I moved on to an even younger woman.  By they way they were assigned to me, I had no choice.  This one is Morrocan and just moved here from France.  Really sweet.  Must be in her early 20’s.

It felt like I was talking to an angel, her voice was so child like.  English not bad, Spanish not bad, we spoke a little in French too.  The French coming out of my mouth was a bit sprinkled with Spanish, not so much the words as the pronunciation.  “Un po'” instead of un peut-  that sort of thing.  Her mission is to acquire languages apparently.  Her’s is a Berber family.  She learned a little of that at home on the Atlantic coast of Morocco.  I had my large water color pad with me to finish a drawing of L’Hermita and I realized I put a column in the wrong place.  I showed her my drawing.  She liked it.

The woman who leads this group has bright red hair.  She looks very Celtic. more than I do.  I sat next to an Italian guy and we talked about the new Papa- which means potato in Central America.  I joked that they chose an Argentinian since there are no Catholics in Italy anymore.  He laughed.  We spoke a little in Italian too.  He was deep in conversation with a few others so we did not talk much.

By Gary Kirkpatrick

Artist and travel blogger.

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