The Volkswagon Truck

I am sitting in a Volkswagon truck, the ubiquitous European version of a SUV, wearing my brown-and-white polka dot feria dress. My youngest son rests on my lap. Next to me, is a teenage girl in a feria dress—tall, beautiful, and unaware of her power. Her mother pours a rubujito into a plastic glass. In … More The Volkswagon Truck

Blue Period

When the sun shines, and my patio blooms with red roses, I am embarrassed to admit that I have the blues. But then, I think, Picasso was Spanish and had a Blue Period, so I am also inclined to have mopey days. Even in Spain. My mopey days feel a bit like one of those … More Blue Period

The Grace of Cafe

In a country which is 99% Catholic, it’s not surprising that there is a reverence for ritual. This is one of my favorites: You walk into a bar, past the plastic-sheeted patio, towards the counter. “Buenos,” you say. “Cafe con leche, por favor.” “Cafe con leche, vale,” replies the man behind the counter, pounding fresh … More The Grace of Cafe