Or talk, talk, talk.
I have to hand it to you: the Spanish talks a lot. In the tapas (snack) bars, for instance, there is practically little music or TV, just people talking, drinking and eating for hours with their in-your-face gestures, clear (ok, loud) voices and not-to-be-missed laughter.
I see couples – young and old -- or parents and children, or friends -- passing by, embracing one another and talking passionately while looking straight at their partner’s eyes.
They communicate. They wear their hearts on their sleeves. They are creating a bond between them.
Fascinating. I love it. Le me gusta!
How many of us really talk that much. I mean, really talk. With our family, partners or friends. We go to a lounge or a restaurant, where we sit, eat, drink and listen to the music but no talk. We sit in the same car, we watch the same TV at home, but there was no conversation. We are together but then again we are really alone.
Perhaps that is where we have gone wrong. Scratch that – Let us not generalize.
Perhaps that is where I have gone wrong. Perhaps this is one reason why God has put me here in Spain: to learn again how to really communicate, from the very beginning.
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