Thank you so much for coming on the Parent Trip! I had a great time and I'm glad I got a chance to see you mid-voyage. As I've said in the Ireland blog post, I was on my death-bed (okay, it was merely a bad cold, but still...) and I truly appreciate your help in recovering.
On the Semester at Sea-organized parent trip, we stayed in the beautiful Pestana Palace in Lisbon, Portugal, toured Evora and Sintra (including historic Pena Palace), and spent the night in Seville among other things. We also ate enough delicious fish for a lifetime. If you were worried I wasn't being adventurous enough in my dining pursuits, know that I ate fried shark and pig cheek, and both were awesome.
On the last day in Cadiz, Spain, I took a special trip with my Travel Writing class to a nature preserve nearby. Since this is the one day I wasn't with you, Mom, I decided to share what I wrote about my experience. (We can pretend I'm not being lazy in reposting what I wrote for class).
The Wrong Stream
At a McDonalds in Cadiz, the menu board casts a neon glow across my face as I struggle with the all-important choice of alitos or patatas deluxe. Caught within dingy yellow and grey tiled walls, it's hard to imagine that just behind me, the waves of the Atlantic crash onto a wide stretch of soft sandy beach. In a few minutes the sun will set, likely to be strikingly picturesque, yet I am inside preoccupied with consumer concerns, too busy to step outside and take it in.
It's even harder to imagine that just a few miles away, a land more scenic, rugged, and beautiful exists, unknown to many a tourist. This is a place where nature runs free and where greasy McDonalds bags do not belong. The present has been stripped away, making room for traditions of the past.
At La Esperanza, the longstanding tradition of harvesting salt continues within a natural landscape of salt marshes yellow-green with shrubbery and alive with the calls of sea birds. On a day bright with blue skies I was welcomed to this foreign land for a few hours, so close to civilization yet still relatively untouched by human hands. Incredible work has been done to preserve the natural salt marshes that provide a home for birds and fish alike, in part through careful channeling of seawater from the nearby coast. It is through the care and passion of local Cadiz residents that this important ecosystem has survived and flourished.
While at La Esperanza, a group of caretakers and local residents were kind enough to demonstrate how they fish in the salt marsh. During this process, I was struck by a single image: that of a fish stuck in an industrial rubber glove. His head was wedged into the thumb of the glove while his tail flopped helplessly in the fifth finger, and I could not help but watch this fish and think of myself.
The fishing process involved drawing in a large fishing net inside a salt pond to capture the assorted fish within. Slowly, three men each took a corner of the net to draw it towards the bank of the salt pond, until a horde of fish thrashed within a tightly drawn net. The fish were transferred from the net into black plastic tubs, where the fishermen inspected each fish for size and health.
One of the fishermen's gloves had fallen into the net during the process, and there was a single fish that had wedged itself tightly into the glove. Barehanded, our guide grabbed the fish and tugged gently at first, but with increasing intensity as he wouldn't budge. She pulled and tugged, but he was stuck and if pressured any further would likely split in two. His two fins beat helplessly against his side as his body squirmed within the confines of the glove.
I'm not a fish in a glove, but I could not shake that same feeling of being trapped. I watched him twist and turn, and understood a similar feeling of having been in the wrong place. As a voyager, there are many dead-end trails that spring up without warning – missed opportunities, questionable decisions, unsolvable problems. Just the day before, I had let a magnificent sunset slip away for the sake of some fries and a large drink. Now, I was taking part in an intricate fishing experience that happens but a few times per year. This was the moment of a lifetime – McDonalds was something fleeting. I realized I'd been swimming up the wrong stream. If I allowed myself to miss these golden moments, I was simply a fish swimming into the neck of a glove, stuck, in my case, in my own complacency.
There is a magic to La Esperanza. Fish and birds coexist amid salt mines glistening bright like the surface of a frozen lake, nestled between sandy ridges of pale green brush. This is a magic I cannot turn my back on.
That's it!
Thanks again Mom for a wonderful time, and I'm sorry to have gotten you sick! I sincerely hope you're feeling better!
Love,
Nicole
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