My alarm goes off on 3:30 am on Saturday morning. It’s a repeat of the alarm set for 3:30 am the day before, and it tells me that I’ve been travelling for 24 hours. My soul is still lagging behind but my body, at least, is in Skyline, my home for the next few weeks, with Ewan, my lifetime home. Ewan stayed up waiting for me; the 3:30 alarm tells us is time for bed!
In the morning, a little shivery with the shock of travelling 7,001 miles, we set off for one of Ewan’s favourite cafés, Cafe Gourmand, for coffee (urgent) and a chance to practise some Spanish, in a live situation. I have been spending a bit of time every day with Paul Noble (he does not know this) – a great teacher for me because he understands my need for much repetition and endless patience. One of the first words I learned on Paul’s course was ‘quisiera’, or ‘I would like…’, which strikes me as an excellent way into a conversation. Paul’s course is speaking only, and my memory bridge for ‘quisiera’ looks like ‘kiss-iera’. I would like a kiss, yesterday!
Walking into Cafe Gourmand, I’m only slightly taken aback when the young woman behind the counter walks right up to me and kisses me. She seems genuinely delighted to see me. And I know, in that instant, that I’m not just in a different country but also on a different continent.
Later on, as I start tracing the Montevideo grid for the first time (when it comes to finding my way, I also need much repetition and endless patience and repetition), we pass a place that has ‘Yoga’ written in the window. The tall vibrantly-blue front door is open and I hear sounds coming from inside. As yoga is my second most-urgent need, I walk inside and climb the narrow wooden stairs. I am met at the top by a woman with warm eyes who greets me, again, with a kiss, as if we are old friends, and she was expecting me, might even have been waiting for me, but forgives my lateness as she knows I have already swapped Anglo-saxon punctuality for Latin American not-so-fussed-about-it.
Yes! My first sentence starts with ‘Kiss-iera’. And yes, I manage a very small conversation (committing only about 10 errors) from which I manage to extract ‘Lunes y Mercioles, a las cuatro de la tarde’. If only Paul knew – he would be so proud of me…
My upsurge of confidence gets a small knock when I arrive on Monday at 4 pm to find the beautiful blue door firmly locked. There is no bell. Did I get it wrong? Or did they decide that today was not really a good day for yoga, after all?
Who cares? I am in Uruguay, my yoga mat lies waiting silently at Skyline, and I’m ready to be kissed again.