This is where you should be now

When it´s Christmas eve and you are on a crowded bus, in a place (Granada) that you used to live but now feel disconnected from, surrounded by strangers (some of whom maybe should bath soon), half car sick from the jolting stops, you do not feel in the right place. You miss your traditions. Your very own tradtions, however small.

But then later after making gingerbread cookies, you take a walk with an old friend. And you end up at the Mirador de San Nicholas over-looking a beautiful view (one of the most breath-taking ones you´ve ever seen). It is dark. The sky is all the arker for the contrast with an illuminated Alambra, with an almost full moon. It is quiet, quiet even though there are bells ringing. You are cold, but you like how it feels.

On the way home you stop at a church, right on time for midnight mass. You´re nervous, you´re not Catholic, but as you walk in you´re scooped up by nuns. You sit in the front with them, you sing Christmas carols with them. You listen to the service with them. It is new to you and you love it´s grammar, it´s history, it´s joy. Afterwards the nuns invite you back into a small room in the church. You sing more, you all eat chocolate and you drink liquor. Nuns play drums and guitar! Nuns love chocolate! Nuns drink liquor! And you are the only Americans and they make you sing the english part of "Feliz Navidad" so they can learn the words. You are laughing to hard to do it properly, but no one minds.

Just before 2am you walk home. You are exhilarated you are refreshed. It reminds you of swimming in the ocean late at night, of the waves, of the calm, of the thrill. This is where you should be now.