6/17/2014
After a wonderful day up on the mountains visiting pueblos blancas yesterday, we get up very enthusiastically to head to Granda. We have no other plan, we will give up our two days at our hotel in Marbella and perhaps will stay at a pleasant hostel we may find in Granada, the rest will be Zeynep's style, let things happen to us, I am all for it. After another breakfast in the old town in Marbella, we head east toward Malaga. On the way, near Terromolinos, we stop at a highway oasis to get gas and I slip off of our plan for "no plans". I knew already that reserving a time slot to visit Alhambra was essential. Why do I feel, leaving Granada without visiting Alhambra would be a waste of a visit? Is it the tourist in me lurking although I'd like to believe that I like anti-touristic travel better than touristic travel? Whatever it is, I ask about internet access on the oasis and am told that cafe-store on the same campus had wifi. Zeynep is agreeable and we park our car a few yards from us and take a seat on the patio, right in front of the parking line.
Plants spring out of cracks on walls in Andalucia
Zeynep locks the car, and we start our "surfing". I, checking Alhambra sites, and Zeynep her e-mail. At some point, I notice an almost unbearable noise around us; turns out to be a group of young kids, all dressed the same way, they look like middle/high school kids. The face of the first one I have eye contact with raises and uneasy feeling in my heart: He reminds me of the guy, who was about to steal my cell phone in Paris off a cafe table I was sitting at one night. I look away and notice that there are many of these guys around all sitting at tables toward my left. Being absorbed in what I was doing on my I-pad, I turn back to my search but also move my digital camera and cell phone, which were both on my left toward Zeynep and tell her "Please be mindful of our electronic stuff, I have an uneasy feeling about these guys". Since all the boys look like Roma people, Zeynep thinks I am biased, and I feel guilty for the same reason, but still move my backpack in between my feet and put my feet through the straps to be on the safer side. So, we both go back to our internet business with no worries about my red luggage in the back seat of the rental car and Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on in the trunk.
Another amazing balcony undersurface covered with tile
In a little bit, again I notice a change of air around us: Ah, the boys have disappeared just as they had appeared out of the blue. The noise around us ceased from one moment to the next, we didn't even see how and where they went. The only memory I have of them is that one boy's face and eyes, slightly aggressive, gregarious, but cunning, at the same time... Zeynep later on tells me they all had the same attire as if they were the members of a team and apparently there was an adult with them, who appeared to be their coach, distributing ice cream to all of them. However, later on exchanging our experiences, we will both express to each other that we both had a very negative feeling about this group being around us as if something bad was happening at the time they were around us. But we are not there, yet, so, we continue with our darn internet engagements without paying attention to what was really happening around us.
Ronda, one of the most famous pueblos blancas
Finally, I understand that Alhambra reservations had to have been made 3 months ahead of time. No Alhambra visit for us this time. We decide to take off and see what Granada has to show us. Zeynep goes to the bathroom, I head to the car, unlocking it with the key as I walk toward it. I smile seeing the box of cherries we had bought the night before in San Pedro from a mother and her daughter, who were trying to sell the last box of the day for only E4, a box full of at least 4 pounds of cherries. I decide to take out the plastic bag I had squeezed into my red luggage to put some cherries in so that we can munch on on our way to Granada after taking off from the oasis. I go to that side of the back seat, not seeing it there, I wonder mindlessly, whether it were in the trunk, open the trunk, still mindlessly, note that it is empty, close the trunk and head to the back seat again, still mindlessly wondering whether it were on the floor. It is not there, either. For a moment, I recall a scene when we had put my red luggage on the floor at the parking ramp in Marbella as we were trying to squeeze in Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on into the tiny trunk. I feel disturbed with the possibility that we might have left it in the parking ramp, in Marbella.
Lake Zahara from a distance
All of a sudden I become fully mindful! I fully understand that the trunk is empty, I knew for sure it was full of our stuff before we sat down on the patio!!! I had seen with my very eyes that Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on went into the trunk and actually, just before parking I had taken my I-pad out of my carry-on. Reality finally sinks in and since settling down at the patio, mindfulness returns in full: All our luggage, most likely in the hopes that they would find money, electronics, etc was stolen by professional people, who had unlocked the car without causing any damage to the car. How mindless we must have been, locked into the virtual world, me trying to buy tickets to get into Alhambra, and Zeynep who knows what...
Zeynep, my daughter in Ronda
We truly were not there although our physical beings were... And those who observed how absorbed we were paying no attention to our surroundings did their job seamlessly... Most likely under the protection of the noise created by the rowdy group of youngsters, most likely part of the scheme. How important to be in the moment is, hits hard one more time. Had I been in the moment when I felt uneasy with the crowd and noise around us, could we have prevented this robbery, or would they have surrounded us in such a way, and stolen what we had had on us as well? Later, much later, we will come to the understanding that perhaps the worst did not happen to us, since all our electronics, our cash and cards, and our passports were with us, all they got essentially was junk in a way, all personal stuff, that wouldn't bring too much money to the thieves...
White washed Ronda against the meadows and mountains in the distance
I lock the car one more time and go into the store to break the news to Zeynep. I tell her "Keep calm now, but all our luggage was just stolen". She is in disbelief as well, she has to walk fast to the car to prove to me, it can't be. We were just there, a few yards from the car, how could it be? Well, she sees with her own eyes that it actually is, already has been! She takes it very well and takes charge with her Spanish engaging the ladies at the cafe so that they could call the police station and give us information on what we need to do. We need to go to the local and national police stations to start our claim process. OK, we will do that, but before, we wander around a bit to see if the luggage could be thrown some place due to frustration from finding nothing significant to them other than couple of pieces of silver jewelry in each bag, my camera bag with the charger but not the camera, my i-phone charger but not the cell phone, nothing precious, no money, no credit cards, no electronics...
Arab Bridge and Old Bridge in Ronda
I recall all of a sudden that the diary I had started chronicling a very precious friendship was in my red luggage, a pain stabs my chest forcing tears down; I try to breath hard to keep them back... Zeynep recalls a precious Christmas gift she had received from a precious person, a felt bag she has been using for her jewelry during her travels was in her backpack. We resolve, those were the only two items we both would mourn over, especially that I lost would have been my gift to my friend during our first anniversary, just in couple of days... It won't any more, but who can steal memories?
Elegant bathroom window covers
As we walk out to the patio, we see a man in the cafe, tall, big, with eye glasses, shorts and a big tattoo on one of his calves... A little after we walk out, he does, too, and sits down at one of the tables and starts observing us, looking around, talking somewhat anxiously, checking the car all around, etc. We both have an ambiguous feeling about this man: Is he simply a traveler, who understood what happened to our luggage by listening to our conversations and is just observing empathically what we are going through? Or is he part of the gang, who s trying to see how far their scheme would affect us or what action we would take? Zeynep has a feeling he had something to do with what we would go through in this whole ordeal... I don't know...
Exploring Ronda a bit more in detail
Finally, we find the local police station. A friendly cop takes notes regarding our complaint, types of luggage, passport numbers, names, phone number, etc.. However, on a piece of scrap paper, doesn't look like a trust inviting attitude... It feels like the moment we turn around the piece of paper will find its way to garbage can. However, the fact that he tells us if nothing valuable found in the luggage, it usually would be thrown aside and it might be found in 1-3 weeks and find its way to the police station instills hope in both of us. If that happens to be the case, they will inform the national police since they are the ones to contact international travelers. That said, we understand that we have to go down to the national police station for a more formal, digitized claim to be filled out. As we drive down to the next police station, both Zeynep and I are getting upset with our own selves for being so mindless and losing contact with our surroundings and getting lost in the virtual world... We feel, we both need our own space to debate in our minds how we put ourselves in this situation, learn from it, forgive our acts, and move on.
New Bridge in downtown Ronda, the most spectacular of all bridges in town
I start waiting in the lobby, after talking to a police officer, who speaks minimal English. Zeynep arrives in a little bit. She wants to go back to the gas station and the cafe to see if she can talk to other people and mostly to that man. All I can tell her is to make sure to talk to anybody in the presence of others, especially to that man, not alone. She promises she will use all her street smarts and leaves... As I am waiting in the lobby, a team of officers get out and leave. I am getting a bit uneasy about the time, their siesta hour is approaching fast. And I am not wrong, somebody comes out and tells me, the translator left for the day and I will either have to come back the next day or file in Granada. Last straw! Whatever I do and say, the only thing I hear is "No". I am waiting for Zeynep to return.
How the meadows stretch below the gorge in Ronda from the New Bridge
A woman with her adolescent daughter arrives in the lobby. She has a clean face and smiles at me with a friendly smile. She is a blond woman, her daughter looks very much like her. She speaks English and actually after I tell her my story, she tries to translate to other officers what my desire is to no avail. I resolve that Spanish governmental offices are no different than Turkish: the client is subservient, and the less work for the officials, the better... All of a sudden, she volunteers, "If you would like, we may go in together and I can help you with translation." My face lit up, I am sure. Good people may need some time to process that there is nothing wrong in doing good for whoever needs it. We go in, she doe a very professional translation, she in fact had done so for Finnish people for many years. It turns out her parents were from Finland, but she was born in Spain so she had dual citizenship and was bilingual, in fact at least trilingual. Once we are done, I give her my contact info, she gives me hers. I give her and her daughter a very warm Turkish hug, after an instant of hesitation, they both respond as warmly.
Grazalerma, another pueblo blanca
By the time Zeynep returns with no news from the oasis, I was already cheered up with a signed claim form in my hand, but she was also in much calmer a state of mind. We do some shopping to survive the next few days ahead of us. Zeynep's contact lenses were stolen as well. We need to go to an optician to first and foremost buy contact lens solution. Zeynep asks her if they had sample contacts for her dioptry. To my great surprise, she does and is willing to give two contacts at no charge! I am stunned to see how happy optician is to help Zeynep and how this kindness of heart lifts Zeynep's spirits and fills her with positive energy just as my Finnish friend had given the same gift to me an hour ago. Despite some evil on earth, there is much more good and kindness, that is what keeps this universe and its inhabitants go on without full destruction...
Andalucians love their flowering plants
We decide to return to Marbella, to our hotel and be two beach bums for the next two days before returning to Seville. As we settle down at our Bora Bora restaurant to have another lovely dinner by the water, we are already laughing about our loss, reiterating how mindfulness is so key to everything on earth and much more... We believe we will find out what is in all this that we need to learn at a deeper level about ourselves, about human experience, and about cultures, and who knows what else...
After a wonderful day up on the mountains visiting pueblos blancas yesterday, we get up very enthusiastically to head to Granda. We have no other plan, we will give up our two days at our hotel in Marbella and perhaps will stay at a pleasant hostel we may find in Granada, the rest will be Zeynep's style, let things happen to us, I am all for it. After another breakfast in the old town in Marbella, we head east toward Malaga. On the way, near Terromolinos, we stop at a highway oasis to get gas and I slip off of our plan for "no plans". I knew already that reserving a time slot to visit Alhambra was essential. Why do I feel, leaving Granada without visiting Alhambra would be a waste of a visit? Is it the tourist in me lurking although I'd like to believe that I like anti-touristic travel better than touristic travel? Whatever it is, I ask about internet access on the oasis and am told that cafe-store on the same campus had wifi. Zeynep is agreeable and we park our car a few yards from us and take a seat on the patio, right in front of the parking line.
Zeynep locks the car, and we start our "surfing". I, checking Alhambra sites, and Zeynep her e-mail. At some point, I notice an almost unbearable noise around us; turns out to be a group of young kids, all dressed the same way, they look like middle/high school kids. The face of the first one I have eye contact with raises and uneasy feeling in my heart: He reminds me of the guy, who was about to steal my cell phone in Paris off a cafe table I was sitting at one night. I look away and notice that there are many of these guys around all sitting at tables toward my left. Being absorbed in what I was doing on my I-pad, I turn back to my search but also move my digital camera and cell phone, which were both on my left toward Zeynep and tell her "Please be mindful of our electronic stuff, I have an uneasy feeling about these guys". Since all the boys look like Roma people, Zeynep thinks I am biased, and I feel guilty for the same reason, but still move my backpack in between my feet and put my feet through the straps to be on the safer side. So, we both go back to our internet business with no worries about my red luggage in the back seat of the rental car and Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on in the trunk.
In a little bit, again I notice a change of air around us: Ah, the boys have disappeared just as they had appeared out of the blue. The noise around us ceased from one moment to the next, we didn't even see how and where they went. The only memory I have of them is that one boy's face and eyes, slightly aggressive, gregarious, but cunning, at the same time... Zeynep later on tells me they all had the same attire as if they were the members of a team and apparently there was an adult with them, who appeared to be their coach, distributing ice cream to all of them. However, later on exchanging our experiences, we will both express to each other that we both had a very negative feeling about this group being around us as if something bad was happening at the time they were around us. But we are not there, yet, so, we continue with our darn internet engagements without paying attention to what was really happening around us.
Finally, I understand that Alhambra reservations had to have been made 3 months ahead of time. No Alhambra visit for us this time. We decide to take off and see what Granada has to show us. Zeynep goes to the bathroom, I head to the car, unlocking it with the key as I walk toward it. I smile seeing the box of cherries we had bought the night before in San Pedro from a mother and her daughter, who were trying to sell the last box of the day for only E4, a box full of at least 4 pounds of cherries. I decide to take out the plastic bag I had squeezed into my red luggage to put some cherries in so that we can munch on on our way to Granada after taking off from the oasis. I go to that side of the back seat, not seeing it there, I wonder mindlessly, whether it were in the trunk, open the trunk, still mindlessly, note that it is empty, close the trunk and head to the back seat again, still mindlessly wondering whether it were on the floor. It is not there, either. For a moment, I recall a scene when we had put my red luggage on the floor at the parking ramp in Marbella as we were trying to squeeze in Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on into the tiny trunk. I feel disturbed with the possibility that we might have left it in the parking ramp, in Marbella.
All of a sudden I become fully mindful! I fully understand that the trunk is empty, I knew for sure it was full of our stuff before we sat down on the patio!!! I had seen with my very eyes that Zeynep's backpack and my carry-on went into the trunk and actually, just before parking I had taken my I-pad out of my carry-on. Reality finally sinks in and since settling down at the patio, mindfulness returns in full: All our luggage, most likely in the hopes that they would find money, electronics, etc was stolen by professional people, who had unlocked the car without causing any damage to the car. How mindless we must have been, locked into the virtual world, me trying to buy tickets to get into Alhambra, and Zeynep who knows what...
We truly were not there although our physical beings were... And those who observed how absorbed we were paying no attention to our surroundings did their job seamlessly... Most likely under the protection of the noise created by the rowdy group of youngsters, most likely part of the scheme. How important to be in the moment is, hits hard one more time. Had I been in the moment when I felt uneasy with the crowd and noise around us, could we have prevented this robbery, or would they have surrounded us in such a way, and stolen what we had had on us as well? Later, much later, we will come to the understanding that perhaps the worst did not happen to us, since all our electronics, our cash and cards, and our passports were with us, all they got essentially was junk in a way, all personal stuff, that wouldn't bring too much money to the thieves...
I lock the car one more time and go into the store to break the news to Zeynep. I tell her "Keep calm now, but all our luggage was just stolen". She is in disbelief as well, she has to walk fast to the car to prove to me, it can't be. We were just there, a few yards from the car, how could it be? Well, she sees with her own eyes that it actually is, already has been! She takes it very well and takes charge with her Spanish engaging the ladies at the cafe so that they could call the police station and give us information on what we need to do. We need to go to the local and national police stations to start our claim process. OK, we will do that, but before, we wander around a bit to see if the luggage could be thrown some place due to frustration from finding nothing significant to them other than couple of pieces of silver jewelry in each bag, my camera bag with the charger but not the camera, my i-phone charger but not the cell phone, nothing precious, no money, no credit cards, no electronics...
I recall all of a sudden that the diary I had started chronicling a very precious friendship was in my red luggage, a pain stabs my chest forcing tears down; I try to breath hard to keep them back... Zeynep recalls a precious Christmas gift she had received from a precious person, a felt bag she has been using for her jewelry during her travels was in her backpack. We resolve, those were the only two items we both would mourn over, especially that I lost would have been my gift to my friend during our first anniversary, just in couple of days... It won't any more, but who can steal memories?
As we walk out to the patio, we see a man in the cafe, tall, big, with eye glasses, shorts and a big tattoo on one of his calves... A little after we walk out, he does, too, and sits down at one of the tables and starts observing us, looking around, talking somewhat anxiously, checking the car all around, etc. We both have an ambiguous feeling about this man: Is he simply a traveler, who understood what happened to our luggage by listening to our conversations and is just observing empathically what we are going through? Or is he part of the gang, who s trying to see how far their scheme would affect us or what action we would take? Zeynep has a feeling he had something to do with what we would go through in this whole ordeal... I don't know...
Finally, we find the local police station. A friendly cop takes notes regarding our complaint, types of luggage, passport numbers, names, phone number, etc.. However, on a piece of scrap paper, doesn't look like a trust inviting attitude... It feels like the moment we turn around the piece of paper will find its way to garbage can. However, the fact that he tells us if nothing valuable found in the luggage, it usually would be thrown aside and it might be found in 1-3 weeks and find its way to the police station instills hope in both of us. If that happens to be the case, they will inform the national police since they are the ones to contact international travelers. That said, we understand that we have to go down to the national police station for a more formal, digitized claim to be filled out. As we drive down to the next police station, both Zeynep and I are getting upset with our own selves for being so mindless and losing contact with our surroundings and getting lost in the virtual world... We feel, we both need our own space to debate in our minds how we put ourselves in this situation, learn from it, forgive our acts, and move on.
I start waiting in the lobby, after talking to a police officer, who speaks minimal English. Zeynep arrives in a little bit. She wants to go back to the gas station and the cafe to see if she can talk to other people and mostly to that man. All I can tell her is to make sure to talk to anybody in the presence of others, especially to that man, not alone. She promises she will use all her street smarts and leaves... As I am waiting in the lobby, a team of officers get out and leave. I am getting a bit uneasy about the time, their siesta hour is approaching fast. And I am not wrong, somebody comes out and tells me, the translator left for the day and I will either have to come back the next day or file in Granada. Last straw! Whatever I do and say, the only thing I hear is "No". I am waiting for Zeynep to return.
A woman with her adolescent daughter arrives in the lobby. She has a clean face and smiles at me with a friendly smile. She is a blond woman, her daughter looks very much like her. She speaks English and actually after I tell her my story, she tries to translate to other officers what my desire is to no avail. I resolve that Spanish governmental offices are no different than Turkish: the client is subservient, and the less work for the officials, the better... All of a sudden, she volunteers, "If you would like, we may go in together and I can help you with translation." My face lit up, I am sure. Good people may need some time to process that there is nothing wrong in doing good for whoever needs it. We go in, she doe a very professional translation, she in fact had done so for Finnish people for many years. It turns out her parents were from Finland, but she was born in Spain so she had dual citizenship and was bilingual, in fact at least trilingual. Once we are done, I give her my contact info, she gives me hers. I give her and her daughter a very warm Turkish hug, after an instant of hesitation, they both respond as warmly.
By the time Zeynep returns with no news from the oasis, I was already cheered up with a signed claim form in my hand, but she was also in much calmer a state of mind. We do some shopping to survive the next few days ahead of us. Zeynep's contact lenses were stolen as well. We need to go to an optician to first and foremost buy contact lens solution. Zeynep asks her if they had sample contacts for her dioptry. To my great surprise, she does and is willing to give two contacts at no charge! I am stunned to see how happy optician is to help Zeynep and how this kindness of heart lifts Zeynep's spirits and fills her with positive energy just as my Finnish friend had given the same gift to me an hour ago. Despite some evil on earth, there is much more good and kindness, that is what keeps this universe and its inhabitants go on without full destruction...
We decide to return to Marbella, to our hotel and be two beach bums for the next two days before returning to Seville. As we settle down at our Bora Bora restaurant to have another lovely dinner by the water, we are already laughing about our loss, reiterating how mindfulness is so key to everything on earth and much more... We believe we will find out what is in all this that we need to learn at a deeper level about ourselves, about human experience, and about cultures, and who knows what else...
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| Delicious cherries from a generous Andalucian woman in San Pedro... |
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