We shall have spent much time in Spain over the last 6 months but not much more time in Europe and an even a lesser amount within the borders of the Spanish mainland. Surely that makes no sense. (See Teide Volcano photograph toward the end for a possible explanation.)
Of course, it begs the question: Where is Wenni...I mean Waldo? Forgive me, I just could not resist, no matter how silly it sounds...I enjoyed it.) Fortunately, I have gotten through my mid-life crisis...I may now be entering the next phase.
Above and...
below and...
in between.
First impression was of Roman gardens.
Many cacti on what has been for us thus far: Rain each day. How does a cactus cope?
Resonates with one of us.
Therefore, let's get down there and try it out.
From sea-level, the top in view is a third of the elevation of our return trip.
This is living or perhaps, viewing, maybe the ultimate 'room with a view'.
We try a different route home. Nothing wrong with this Bay Area.
Looking into backyards on the way up.
We suppose looking into front-yards provides more color. All we are certain of is that our legs tell us it's steep.
We hiked down from the west and returned up via the east. (Showing off our directional skills). The building, our marker, provides perspective. We believe there is no officially declared drought as we write although it has only rained 3 times today.
Teide Volcano, the highest mountain in Spain comes into view. Although we are in Spain, we are not in Europe and therefore, not on the mainland. Go figure! It's a similar situation to that of France and La Reunion. The Canary Islands are in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of North-west Africa. La Reunion is French territory in the Indian Ocean off the coast of South-east Africa. Both are beautiful. (Some may add: The US has similar situations).
We call this the lower East side...doesn't look as fancy and spacious as in the west. Probably wouldn't mention it aloud, though, or write the comment in Espanol.
Island communities seem to favor multi-colors. We like it. Viewed from above, the west side.
below and...
in between.
First impression was of Roman gardens.
Many cacti on what has been for us thus far: Rain each day. How does a cactus cope?
Resonates with one of us.
Therefore, let's get down there and try it out.
From sea-level, the top in view is a third of the elevation of our return trip.
This is living or perhaps, viewing, maybe the ultimate 'room with a view'.
We try a different route home. Nothing wrong with this Bay Area.
Looking into backyards on the way up.
We suppose looking into front-yards provides more color. All we are certain of is that our legs tell us it's steep.
We hiked down from the west and returned up via the east. (Showing off our directional skills). The building, our marker, provides perspective. We believe there is no officially declared drought as we write although it has only rained 3 times today.
Teide Volcano, the highest mountain in Spain comes into view. Although we are in Spain, we are not in Europe and therefore, not on the mainland. Go figure! It's a similar situation to that of France and La Reunion. The Canary Islands are in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of North-west Africa. La Reunion is French territory in the Indian Ocean off the coast of South-east Africa. Both are beautiful. (Some may add: The US has similar situations).
We call this the lower East side...doesn't look as fancy and spacious as in the west. Probably wouldn't mention it aloud, though, or write the comment in Espanol.
Island communities seem to favor multi-colors. We like it. Viewed from above, the west side.
‘People are basically good’ are the gentle sounding words that provide comfort to our souls. After all, the tragedies of the world since the beginning could surely not be perpetrated by fellow humans. People are basically decent. Certainly, it sets the mood in a better dimension than should we utter, ‘It’s people that give humanity a bad name’. Now isn’t that a negative way of looking at humans, the world and life in general? It certainly is. But it’s far worse to kid oneself and think something is a certain way because I say it’s so, because it suits my agenda. Why be negative?
Truth. It’s a phenomenal concept but of course, it’s harsh, uncomfortable and revealing.
Does this mean everyone is bad or expressed less harshly but clumsily, not bad? Not at all. Behavior is a choice and so it should be. Nothing worth doing or accomplishing is easy. That’s what makes it worthwhile and invariably correct. Therefore, to lump everyone together in stating we are all good, is an insult to those who make efforts, small and large, to be decent. Otherwise, what would be the point of doing good. (Of course, many will be decent because that’s who they are and stand for).
Sometimes, to appreciate true goodness and kindness of people, one should not only see the deed but gain perspective of the deed in context. Within that context, it becomes clear that good deeds are even greater than they appear.
We have written in the past of witnessing and benefiting from the kindness of strangers. We have also mentioned the argument between G-d and Abraham when the latter argues with G-d that He should not destroy the world should there be a hundred good people in it. The argument continues until Abraham whittles the number down to ten. (Smart guy). We look to this precedent often and have thought that the good deeds of just one person make the world a worthwhile place.
This brings us to another incident that prompted the writing of this essay. We arrived in Spain, on the island of Tenerife, after long but pleasant flights. We prepared ourselves for the drive to our apartment, near on an hour from the airport, a bigger island than expected. In case we might experience GPS issues, we took along some handwritten directions, too. This was a first in years. We do not trust our Espanol, for excellent reasons. Long story short: The GPS failed to function. In addition, unfortunately, the traffic was busier than expected, it began to rain, we were extremely tired and were driving at night. We got close to the destination but not close enough. What to do?
We have times when we face tough situations and it can become extremely frustrating, sometimes one feels hopeless and helpless. And that’s before we even think of a tough climb. State of mind is a vital concept. What to do (again)?
We recall arriving in Budapest and facing a locked door, the same thing in Romania, lost in Greece, on mainland Spain, too, an incorrect address in Tel Aviv, and so many other places. What saved us? A little thinking and much kindness of strangers. Yes, we understand the wickedness of so many inhabitants of our planet now and over the ages. Nevertheless, we stand in awe at the generosity of those who will come to the aid of a stranger and provide him/her with necessary help. It is indeed a beautiful world because of humans who choose to undertake good.
Meantime, we have to get to the apartment so will you please focus. Jenni suggested we talk to a taxi driver. We found a rank, parked illegally as there was nowhere else to stop and I then approached the line of cars. The first one was empty. The second one ‘did not have the English’. I then spotted three fellows talking besides one of the vehicles. It was a fair assumption to presume they were the drivers. I explained our situation to one of the men. He struck me as the person to approach. As an aside, one can deduce that the English language can be awkward if used literally. He did not strike me, of course. Communication was difficult but I showed him our written destination address which turned out to be incomplete. Our landlady had left off a number. After discussion with his colleagues and a well-placed call, he got into his car and beckoned me to follow.
Fortunately, we were close but unless a person is right there, it helps not. You cannot sleep in a bed when you’re close but still a mile distant. When we approached the building finally, we recognized it from the picture on the website. Relief.
The driver, Antonio, rushed from his vehicle toward the apartment entrance, making sure we’d find the correct door. We obviously looked and behaved less than competent. The key was in a lockbox so he waited until I removed it and ensured the key did its magic with the lock. We were in.
Obviously, we were going to pay Antonio and hopefully, generously. It felt that any amount we paid would be less than adequate. Try sleeping in the car…it’s sobering. We once spent a night at 10,000 feet on Mauna Loa, Hawaii, but that was deliberate. (It was worth it for the sunset/sunrise). Antonio refused payment. Let me repeat that: Antonio had switched from a professional rendering a service in a typical business manner to what is referred to in Jewish circles as a mensch or Tzaddik. I don’t think I need to translate the words.
Fortunately, we came to an understanding that Jenni and I could live with. For, had we not made payment it would have meant that Antonio provided a generous service and that he had also made a donation to us. Unacceptable. He had the decency to accept our payment, my hug and words of humility and leave us with at least a tiny bit of pleasure. We have often found such payment provides far more joy to the giver than the receiver. In fact, we had double joy and almost feel badly for it. Not only did Antonio save us from a disastrous night, but he allowed us great joy of paying for the service. Whatever we paid, it was insufficient.
Once again, the world has many beautiful people in it. You’re one of them, Antonio and we add you to David, a man who helped us when we were lost on a mountain in Durango, Colorado.
Thank you, kind souls.
And then we face the real thing...in the heart of the mountains, as Jen nears the end of a tough and exhilarating adventure. More next time.
Cheers,
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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