Though I really have no need for drugs from South America, I’ve always wanted to be like Red from The Shawshank Redemption, “I’m just a guy that knows how to get things.” It doesn’t mean I have to actually get them, but, I know how to.
I apologize for being so long without a post, and I’ll apologize everytime I go a week without posting, but luckily today was too good to keep to myself. Today is the day I decided that no matter what happens from here on out, I’m happy I moved to Barcelona. It WAS a good decision.
As most of you know, being able to say something like that doesn’t come without thought, at least not from my mouth. I’ll think things through until I’m bleeding from both ears. Both a curse and a blessing I suppose.
Before I left for Spain some of my main reasons for accepting the position was to experience another country, to meet a new demographic of people, and of course, for the chance to teach my advanced sarcasm to a whole new country. But it wasn’t until lunch today that I realized I was living out those desires.
To catch everyone up on what a lunch really is, in Spain my entire two floor office is off from 1-230pm. Typically about 5% of the office stay at their desk, while everyone else picks a restaurant and for 10 euros you sit down with friends or colleagues for at least an hour and have a nice 2 course meal(including espresso of course). Since Spain is so world renowned for their food and I’m so open minded about cuisine, I took it upon myself and found the most authentic ITALIAN restaurant near the office, which has now become our go to place.
In the midst of another beautiful meal we somehow started discussing the life path of one of our colleagues. To look at and speak to this man, he comes off as a gentle, soft spoken, almost became a priest, type of person. But shockingly what was divulged between my delicious spaghetti bolognese to my Cafe Cortado gave me some added perspective on life that I certainly didn’t expect today.
My friend started his life in Bolivia, born and raised. In his early 20s he was given a job with the American Embassy as a narcotics enforcement officer. To give you an idea, in Canada that would be like someone being appointed the Tim Hortons Coffee enforcement officer. You try stopping the grade 3 teacher from getting her morning double cream-double sugar. Guaranteed homicide.
He told us some days he would search the jungle for drugs and criminals, and sleep with a gun under his pillow at night. He mentioned it was there that he learned the meaning of the saying, “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” We all looked at one another after this quote, yet no one dared ask for clarification. It was a couple years later, a family friend within the American Embassy that saved him from the life he believed he was destined for, and fired him. Shortly after, he moved to Slovakia (for a woman of course) and started at one of their oldest and most renowned universities (maybe not renowned enough because I’ve clearly forgotten the name). He worked his way through school in Bratislava as a latin dance instructor -oh we had a good laugh at his expense at this one – before accepting the job he works at today in Barcelona. Now he comes in early everyday, works his ass off with a big smile on his face and lives for the day that he can bring over his wife and son to live with him.
After hearing about this guy’s path to Spain, I felt like I came straight from Pleasantville. Oddly enough though, the most engaging part of the story, was not hearing my friend tell it, but the reaction from the mix of people sitting around the table. There were 5 of us, comprised of a Slovakian, a Bolivian, a Dutch, a guy born and raised in the US but is also a Nicaragua national, and then me, Captain Canuck, Johnny Canadian.
It was borderline comical to watch the stereotypes play themselves out over our meal, especially over our quick discussion on gun control. 80% of the party looked down on handgun possession and began to discuss and compare crime rates and policies in different countries until we finally landed on Uncle Sam. Our American colleague, who is indeed a great guy, unfortunately didn’t let any of us down and began proclaiming the constitution’s Right to Bear arms and that every American has the right to protect themselves with a gun, yada, yada, yada. I choose to yada yada the rest of that one side debate because that’s exactly what the rest of us did. We laughed at the wanna-be NRA member, strengthened our already sullen view of the Yanks and got up to pay the bill.
On the walk back, thankfully no one noticed the sly smirk on my face because I had no desire to offer an explanation for it. But it was then that I realized it’s conversations, and people like these that were the reason I moved out here.
Again though, I think it all comes back to everyone’s frame of reference. I think its greatly important to fill your life with different types of experiences and people. Different opinions, backgrounds, stories, hardships, likes, dislikes, etc., etc., etc…ETC. All of this widens your frame of reference for any future decisions or action you’ll take. It gives you physical proof that life isn’t just confined to your home town or country. Though it may sound a little odd, physical proof is sometimes all we need. Something that won’t allow you to ignore the world around you.
Otherwise, its very possible to find yourself years later in the midst of a half-lived life, to find that you’ve somehow grown-up, without ever actually growing. Because if your frame of reference is so narrow, you put a limit on your potential.
A classic movie and unlikely philosopher once told us,
“Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once and a while…you could miss it”