These past few weeks have, predictably, sped by. They’ve been technically mostly full of the highest concentration of work I’ve ever had. Still, I’m more proud of myself for truly having taken notice of where I physically am, how it’s shaped my experience, and how it’s a different space here than at home or Wellesley. I feel at peace with leaving because of this, not because of the amount of work I’ve done. There have been some less-than-perfect dynamics socially and at my homestay, which, in combination with my Paulson assignments, have uniquely allowed me to truly let my experience and perspective here be shaped and deepened by my physical surroundings, by where my feet are. I feel even more confident after this adjustment than I did after moving to Wellesley from California that I can find elements anywhere that welcome me into a home. Sitting right at the water today, the rush of the water under the Roman Bridge and through the reeds welcome the wonder in me that it always does, making me gasp (sometimes in expletives…) and filling me with such genuine joy for the fact that, at least for the next two days, I get to walk by this immovable force on my way to and from my house (I often manage to fit in multiple visits). I feel the same at Lake Waban (my camera roll is full of both bodies of water), and these two homes away from home have taught me about what I need and unconsciously seek out/attract in a home. Water’s wisdom surpasses language and nationality. The architecture here has also added wonder to my days, but I more so appreciate the spring greenery that now bursts from window sills and balconies, bringing life to this quiet city.
The Andalusian people can be reserved, bordering on unfriendly in some cases, so sometimes I feel that the best way to learn the people here IS through the water, which is intimately familiar with life and habits here. This is what my final project focused on. I want to use the water’s path through the space and time of Cordoba to see what it can tell us about the people here. During festival season, what remnants get washed from the flamenco and sevillana stages to the river? What does the water ‘see’ as it makes its way from the flower pots, through the patios, down the street into the gutter, and across to the river? Cordobés water habits tell us a lot about their relationship to nature but also to each other, to patrimony, to tourism, and about what a day in the life looks like here. I am not mourning my departure, I am happy to have been here and happy to go home, but I am glad to be able to honor my time and lessons here through the eyes of what I really will miss, the river Guadalquivir. Thank you for following along with me this semester, and I’ll see you next semester as I take on Dublin!
