España

There was a boy. There is always a boy. His name, Bernardo. He was from Valencia. He had red hair and brown eyes. He was like a teddy bear. Energetic and joyful, he had many friends. I hung onto him, like a little kid. He’d say, “Mary, do you undestand?” I would nod a yes. He would say, “seguro?” I would say, “seguro!” I didn’t understand everything but I loved being around the language and him, so I didn’t care. I dressed like them, the Spanish students that came to Firhouse, because I wanted to be them. Dark blue jeans, dark blue sweater, white shirt. But, I couldn’t match their smell. They wore a cologne that I still haven’t found. Who wore cologne in Ireland at fifteen years old in the eighties? I knew they had arrived when I saw from far off, two people hugging, holding hands or touching in some way. It was affectionate, comfortable, relaxed, no big deal, their way of being together. They were healthy, vibrant, happy. “Jayus, would yeh look a’ them?” One of the local lads exclaimed. “Yez are all goin’ t’ forge’ abou’ us now, aren’t yez?” I would try not to forget my compatriots but I only succeeded after a few summers of Spanish students visits, when we all hung out together. I didn’t understand the pull of them; I just felt it. It was like there were magnets in my blood and the closer I got, the more alive I felt; the more I felt at home. I didn’t honour the longing for Spain or her people. I buried it, like a secret that warmed me when I got close to it again. Years went by. I never made it there. I didn’t keep up learning Spanish. I didn’t keep in touch with Bernardo. I went to France and had two children with a French man, then to Canada and had three children with a Canadian. They are almost grown now. And I am going to Spain with one of them in two months. I am listening to Spanish music. I have an app on my phone to learn the language. We are going to Barcelona. We are taking a hot air balloon ride. My hips are moving. My heart is quickening. Those magnets in my blood are wakening up. Viva Espana.