Last Monday I went to Warsaw to join my son Theo and the vibrant theatre trainer Paul Jamieson for our Inspiration workshop with 30 youngish people from all over Europe. There were Russians and Ukrainians in the same room. No problem. There were lovely Croatian doctors, Greeks, an Italian, some Spaniards, and many beautiful Eastern Europeans. Beautiful in mind and in body, not to say spirit. Theo was brilliant with poetry and his exposition of McGilchrists work on brain hemisty, and Paul was both hilarious and full of wisdom. He is also a most excellent process person, able to bring order to chaos in seconds. I went direct via Berlin, something entirely new to me. The experience, with its early starts and full on teaching and rehearsing, was exhausting, and I spent most of the time in the hotel (a very nice one, too). Poland vs Scotland a bit of a damp squib. On Friday I flew back to Malaga, again via Berlin, where my dormant German resurrected itself briefly. Arrived worn out to find Isidros tattooed and pierced son applying goat shit to some new plants, accompanied by Victor. Collapsed into the blissful peace of an olive wood fireside, and then into bed. Awoke to the warmth of the Andaluz spring, which is translucent. The sun is hot, but the air is cold, and the atmosphere seems liquid as it works towards the fierce definition of the summer. I played scales in the morning, and did some voice work. Then lunch and a siesta, which was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a four wheeler. Here they call them Anrobbairs, an Andaluz corruption of the famous marque. Say it a few times and youll get it. From its interior shouted a penetrating male voice of very little refinement. Wheres Pepe? it roared through the restful olive trees. Whos Pepe, and who are you, and wh. at are you doing on my land? Looking for Pepe. Ill only be five minutes, ten minutes, quarter of an hour. No you wont, this is private here and were trying to rest. I wont be long, and he jumped out, followed by a short woman who waved with irritating insouciance in our direction. Is this going to happen every day? No, just one day in the whole of your life. This was starting to annoy me. This isnt a public drive. Its our drive. I didnt know that did I. Well, please could you go back and find the right one. No, Ill only be five minutes, and off he went across our neighbours field, leaving his grotty Anrobbair standing in what is to be our garden. I thought, well, you cant just take this lying down. That wont do anything for your reputation in this pueblo. So I followed him down to where he was talking to Pepe, whom I discerned bashing his trees to get the olives down. My garden isnt a public parking place, I called across the sunlit glens. Go away! No, could you go away? And he started to come towards me. As he neared, he began to heat up. Why dont you go back to England, or wherever you come from. Well, in England we have a lot of Spanish people who know how to behave. (I am heating up a bit too, but having been through cognitive behaviour therapy I have the advantage of him self-control wise). He then reached into his pocket. Hello, I thought, hes got a gun in there, but no, he pulled out a mobile and waved it at me. Dyou want me to call the police. Ill call the police, I will and, encouraged by loud noises from the woman with him, he started to undo the phone. For what crime? Then he really let rip. A stream of rapid fire aggression zoomed at me, which I had serious problems in translating to myself. I tried reason, but could only get about three words into each sentence before some more aggression began. So hard was this to deal with that some kind of madness gripped me, and I did the only thing I thought might stop him: I began to sing. No, that didnt work, so I tried imitating him. I think his own madness had transferred itself on to me. Please remove your car now. No. Why should I? Well. If I came on to your land by mistake I would ... Go back to Poland! Ive flown from Poland, six hours, but Im not Po ... Lala lala. Then Pepe came up, looking very embarrassed, and explained that hed made a mistake. fine, but hes not being friendly or polite, and its very sad and unfortunate. In the end Sue and I just turned away and moved back towards the house, and they moved back to the Anrobbair and got in. I called out to them as they turned round in where we are going to plant shrubs, stirring up a vast cloud of dust, the old and lovely Spanish farewell of vaya con Dios , go with God, and - mildly astonished by the good will of the ancient words - they called out Gracias, and roared away. I felt very little emotion save for regret and righteousness combined. We then forked and dug and planted until the dusk fell over our labours, and we went in once again to the fireside, a dish of aubergines wrapped in cheese, some white wine, and sleep. I dreamt of film premieres and Oscars, and of Croatian doctors wearing Cate Blanchett dresses, and strange echoes of long dead romances, until the light came up and with it the haze that brought another day of sun, in which I went down across the fields, covered in young cowslips, to where Pepe was, in amongst his trees. Pepe I called. Yes he answered from a hidden place up in the branches. And he came down. Pepe, Im so sorry about what happened yesterday. It doesnt matter, it doesnt matter, he said, using the charming way of saying things more than once that they have round here. Hes very stressed out, andhes a member of my family. Whys he stressed out? I dont know. Hes just like that. Always has been. And hes my brother in law. I told him on the phone how to get here, but he never listens, and I can just see how you felt, there you were resting and along comes this madman. Yes indeed, I said. Anyway, Im sorry at how it turned out. Well, he said, we wont let it stop us being good neighbours. No, never. I am known as Pepe la Venta, Pepe the shop, and I live just behind the chemists. If you ever need anything, just come and ask and well give you a hand. Thank you, thats very kind. My wife, shes a teacher of English. Is that where youre from? Well, yes. Good, well you come round and well have a copita, and you can teach her some more English, and she can help you with some Spanish. Great. Sorry about my brother in law. No, no, no problem. At least he didnt drive into your house, ha ha. No, I never thought of that! Please tell him that were ok about it. I will,have a good day. And I walked back up the hill, happiness replacing regret as I did so. You cant feel bad for long here. We drive back to England on Tuesday, but we dont want to leave.
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 21:29:45 +0000
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