I’m not sure how many more blogs I will get to post while I’m in Spain beause I will be spending Saturday evening and Sunday morning in Toledo, which is about an hour from Madrid. I will be with a couple who are Seminary students and have a new church plant there. I will be brought back to Alcala Sunday afternoon. Keep checking my blog page you never know when a new entry will pop up OR if you haven’t already, you can subscribe to the RSS feed and it will let you know when a new entry has been posted.
Yesterday was another relaxing day for me and another opportunity to get into the culture a little more. David and Susie went to the Seminary to teach their classes, Michael went to school and they were all gone when I woke up. Dixie, of course, could hardly wait until I got up. I went down for my coffee and she came over to let me know that she was ready for her walk whenever I became ready. She and I went out to check the weather, although I was pretty sure she had already been out once. When we got back I did a little work and then got ready to catch the bus into downtown to meet Tim again.
On my way to downtown, I had another one of those “Cliff” experiences. While I was waiting on my bus (the green one – not the red one) another bus came by and dropped some people off. This Spanish speaking older gentleman came off of that bus and was talking to a lady who was also coming off. They were talking about the bus schedules and pointing, and he was clearly trying to find out which bus he needed to take in order to get wherever it was that he was wanting to go. He walked across the street to the other bus stop, and another bus came by. It must not have been the one he needed because when that bus departed he was still on the curb. He came over to me and started talking. I was about to do the “No habla Espano” thing but from his gestures and a word or two, I knew what he was asking. I had read the stops that my bus was going to be making, and I heard him say the name of one of those stops, so I gestured and said, “Si – Si,” letting him know that this bus would get him there. He thanked me and I felt proud of myself, but then he kept talking to me as if I spoke Spanish. I nodded along and became a very active listener. I saw our bus coming so I stepped back a little and pointed to the bus. When I got onto the bus I handed the bus driver my money and said, “Avenida de America,” with my best Spanish accent (I had been practicing while I was waiting on the bus).
I took my seat and even though there were plenty of other seats my new friend came over and sat next to me so that we could continue our conversation. Have you ever been in a situation where someone comes up to you and starts talking, and they think you know them, and you are probably suppose to, but you can’t place them? You know how you think if you keep talking with them it will come back to you, but it doesn’t. In all of the time that you spent trying to remember, you missed that little window where it is okay to ask them their name. Well, I kind of felt like that. He thought I spoke Spanish because I sort of acted like I could, but I missed the window where I felt comfortable telling him that I don’t speak Spanish. He was really enjoying talking to me, so I just continued on with my charade. I knew that he was telling me what a difficult time he was having getting to where he needed to go, so I nodded a lot with a, “Ci, Ci” and “no” and a “hmmm” as empathically as I could for a good while. After one of the stops I knew we had one more stop and then we would be at his. I was in too deep now so I said, “Uno mas parada” (“one more stop”). He nodded and continued talking, and then sure enough as we approach he spotted a building that he was looking for, and knew he was where he wanted to go. He thanked me and we exchanged departure phrases and he exited. I took a deep breath and prayed no one else on the bus wanted to talk to me. It felt good to help someone find their way in this country for a change.
Tim and I hopped another bus and went to the church to disciple a young man. Then we caught another bus that took us to the subway (called the metro), and we ended up in his favorite part of Madrid, “Plaza de Mayor.” During the Spanish Inquisition, it was believed that “The Church – Catholic Church was the means to salvation. So they would gather up Christians and take them to the Plaza de Mayor and torture them unto belief and repentance. If they didn’t repent - they died. It was beautiful plaza, very ornate much like all of Madrid. We ate supper there and hopped onto the metro again and went to an apartment for a cell group Bible study. Raul and Nadine hosted the group in their apartment. It was a wonderful evening of Bible study and prayer.
Tim got me back to the train station and I caught a train that would take me back to Alcala. Then I enjoyed a nice walk back to the Dixon’s where Dixie was happy to greet me.
