We are now almost ready to go home. Today we
take a two-hour train ride to a small town called Figueres (feeg-YARE-us) to
the Dali Museum. A fitting end, I guess – some wild and crazy art in a wild and
beautiful country.
Going to another country is, I believe, good for
one’s soul and good for one’s outlook on life. My cousin Jill, who just
returned from a family trip across Europe wrote that she is “Grateful for
life and love and beauty and kindness and a big world worth saving.” That is a
good summation.
There is something about the experience of disorientation as one adjusts
temporally and spatially to another place, another culture, another group of
people that is healthy and mind-opening. There is an odd sort of beauty in the dazed
moments generated by travel. In those moments I gain empathy in the frustration and joy
in working things out. Then too, there is the joy in all the beauty and art and architecture, in the
helpfulness of people with whom communication is limited, in the wonders of experiencing
a different way of life and a different perspective on the world.
On this trip we experienced the places where Christian and Muslim
cultures have met throughout history, often with disastrous results. It
makes me more aware of who I am in this world and what my history has been. It
makes me appreciate other cultures, whatever their flaws – and more
appreciative of my own culture, whatever its flaws. There is beauty everywhere.
Perhaps the only photo and last comment is this: In both Barcelona and
Madrid, the city hall buildings had large banners reading “Refugees Welcome.”
That’s all and perhaps that’s enough. We'll be home in Reedley soon.
On Barcelona's Placa de San Jaume
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