Dominic
The other day I went to a little cafe to have a cold tinto de verano (red wine with lemon soda and a splash of vermouth). I noticed a man walking alone down the street past the cafe keeping an eye on me. He was a white guy with salt and pepper hair. Apparently in his mid-fifties. He walks past the cafe then double backs and takes a seat at the next table over. He positions himself for conversation. He orders his drink, the same as mine, and begins a conversation with me.
Dominic is a Belgian here in Cartagena receiving medical treatment for some sort of issue having to do with his nerves and/or muscles. Dominic is gay and his intentions in speaking to me were clear. He never said anything out of line and we had a normal conversation. He had a lot of good advice on how to prepare myself now for retirement. His biggest advice was that I should have a lawyer on retainer. Especially because I am black. I hope that advice never turns out to be good advice. Though I think I’ll live pretty well here, I’m not going to throw away money on a lawyer unless something pops off.
Today as I was heading to the supermarket, I saw Dominic walking on the other side of the street in the direction I needed to go in. I paused to let him gain some distance before I continued. I just wasn’t in the mood for entertaining conversation with him. Eventually I cut over to a parallel street only to find him calmly sitting in the park at the end of the street with his back towards me. I passed and did not look in his direction. As I was on my way back home from the grocery store who is it I see with his pink polo shirt, cargo shorts, and visor?It was if he entered a clothing store and said, “Hello! How can I look like a tourist?” He was a few yards in front of me, so I cut down the parallel street again. I continue, nearly home. I approach a corner and there he is. I was forced to chat with him for a bit. It wasn’t so bad. But I learned something about this neighborhood. It is small. If I were to have an argument or have some bad blood between myself and someone else around here, I’m sure I’d see them almost everyday. Maintaining relationships here will be important.
Overall I feel happy here. In Spain, part of me has always felt like I was on some sort of vacation. Here in Murcia, people wear flip-flops, the sun always shines, the weather is hot, the palm trees grow high, the shorts are short, and green parrots fly overhead. I feel like I am truly on vacation now. I am free to make my own schedule and work as much as I want. This job will not make me rich but this is a lifestyle few can afford. I am really looking forward to what else God has in store for me here.
