Adapting

It has been a week of SLOs; Significant Learning Opportunities.

Facebook friends already know about the afternoon I backed our new car into a concrete post.  This was a significant event in many ways.  Over the years we have driven thousands of kilometers throughout Europe, in various rental cars, without ever getting a scratch on a car.  But the Jeep had less than 2000 kms on it when I, without any reason, backed into a post.  I have tried to find an explanation, but I just looked over my left shoulder, stomped on the gas pedal and hit the post.

What initially seemed like a potentially huge issue quickly diminished to a more proper position in life's concerns.  We recognized all the things that didn't happen; I did not hit another car, or a person; the post did not crumble bringing the entire grocery store down on top of us.  My can't-be-explained lapse in driving talents did not happen while encountering a tour bus on a narrow hairpin turn, or while driving strangers up a 4x4 track on a mountainside.  In other words, it could have been much worse.

On Friday we went to the car dealer in Granada for an estimate on the repair.  The salesman who had helped us with our purchase met us and spent about two hours with us.  He doesn't have any English, but he has incredible patience and while Sam used Google Translate on his phone and Miguel used Google Translate on his own phone, we were able to get it all figured out.  The repair will cost several thousand less than we anticipated - in the end, less than 1000 euro for parts and labor, and Miguel convinced us to use our insurance policy to cover it.  We were afraid that our 3-week old policy would be canceled if we filed a claim already, but Miguel assured us that we get 4 accidents before anything negative happens.  So we will take the car back in on the 20th and it should be good-as-new three days later.  We don't know if we are getting new parts or just repairs to our current parts, but Sam, who has always been a perfectionist, shrugged and said, "Whatever they do, it will be good enough."

"Good enough," is a phrase that I am hearing more and more from Sam, and it is a phrase that I never heard him use back in the States.  This is a significant change.  For years I have watched him do and re-do and then for good measure, re-do one more time.  I would point out that "no one will ever see it," but that didn't matter.  He would tell me, "but I'll know," and then he would work harder to get it "just right." But now we live in a home that doesn't have one straight line in any of the construction, where Saharan winds cover everything with a fine layer of dirt, where a drive to the store involves weeds and brambles scraping the sides of the car and then bouncing over rocks and ruts for 7 kms. Bugs and geckos come and go freely from the many small openings in our house and I am watching as Sam embraces the fact that none of it really matters.  And so he has re-grouted a few spots, and put a layer of fresh paint on the walls; he pulls some weeds, when he feels like it, but in the end he steps back and says, "That's good enough."  This ease is a gift of our life in the Alpujarras.

There is a philosophy here, rooted in poverty and restricted access, that you use what you have rather than buying something new.  And so old doors are used as covers for the water control box, bathtubs are used as animal watering troughs; gates are constructed from any combination of odds and ends and a multitude of things are reused in a variety of ways.  In that spirit, and because our shipment of things has not yet arrived from the states, I decided to use my vegetable peeler as a cheese peeler.  I made one good swipe across the cheese rind and told Sam I had made a brilliant discovery as the rind came off in a paper thin strip.  Then I repositioned the hunk of cheese and pulled the peeler towards me to try for a paper thin slice of cheese.  The peeler slipped off the cheese and onto the lower portion of my thumb taking a thicker-than-paper slice of skin off of my hand.  In that instant between the event and the resulting gush of blood I called out, "I don't think this was a good idea!" and then the profuse bleeding began. We both thought that we had packed gauze and first aid tape, but it was no where.  Sam used scissors to snip off the dangling flap of skin and then we did our best to clean it up before wrapping it all with a pad of paper towel and masking tape.

Sometimes it is acceptable to buy the correct tool rather than using what you have.

My hand will be fine but this week we need to stop at the farmacia and stock up on first aid supplies. The car is fine, but for only a little inconvenience it will soon look good-enough and perhaps even good-as-new. I have named the geckos and this morning when a young gecko walked past me on the floor I just looked up and thought, "oh, he's a young one." Although none of the walls are straight, I do have a perfectly flat cook top for the first time ever.  I stood there puzzling over the fact that when I crack an egg into a pan, it does not travel to one side of the pan like it always has. I mop the tile floors knowing that within minutes they will be covered with fine dust, but I know it won't be as dusty in the winter when the winds shift and the doors and windows are closed, and in the meantime, it just doesn't matter; to anyone.

We have found perfection in this life we have chosen, but it is a perfection of spirit that comes from the simple beauty of sunrises and sunsets, of clouds and shadows, of Bee Eaters swooping and calling to each other as they gather before their migration back to southern Africa.  There is perfection in afternoons spent with friends and new acquaintances of various nationalities, laughing and talking over tinto de verano and beer while sharing plates of chips and grilled fish; where no one is in a hurry and time passes easily.  

There is perfection in a task that ends with the comment "That's good enough." Because, really, good-enough is as close to perfect we will ever get.

Sunrise

Sunset

Clouds

Shadows

Bee Eater, Photo credit: Kiersten Rowland

Friends and acquaintances; most are just back from a 5 day hike in the mountains