Today was truly Steven Alonzo’s day

A DAY OF ANCESTRAL MEMORIES: Chilches and Macharaviaya, Spain

 First, cafe con leche in a slow and easy start to our day.  We'd already ordered when I saw chocolate croissants on top of the glass case beside us.  YUM.  We split it into four pieces and ate every crumb.

Today, el Carro II found its way to two villages near the Mediterranean Sea, neither village was far from where we are in Spain.  Our first stop was Chilches where the Escaño family lived, so we parked the car and began walking up and down steep, narrow streets to just feel the oldness in the air. When we saw the bench in front of the old church, Steven sat down where he’d sat the first time he’d made his way to his ancestral village twelve years ago.  He said a lot had changed, more updates, prettier entrance into the village and overall upgrade.  What hadn’t changed was the peace and memories he remembered from his grandmother’s stories.  He continued to sit and contemplate...

And then we decided to walk.  When I saw the furniture  and home appliances truck with the ESCAÑO name on the side, I yelled and pointed.  His face lit up like a candle.  Family?  Cousins?  

We guessed and imagined if there could be a familial connection as we walked upward toward the cemetery.  I’d never seen one such as this.  Instead of gravestones on the ground, it was shaped like a rectangle with three walls filled with niches to hold the etched stones, some black marble, others white and many with the inhabitant’s photos.  He found several of his family names and I found Ruiz, although in Spain...Ruiz is like Smith or Jones in America.

On the way back down the narrow road made of rocks and cement, we said “hola” to an old woman who responded likewise with a big smile.  Steven asked her if she knew any Escaños and she said, yes and pointed to a house behind us!  Without hesitation, Steven walked up to the door, knocked and asked the woman (in perfect Spanish) if her name was Escaño and explained that his grandmother was originally from Chilches.  She opened her door and invited us right inside her house as if we weren’t strange Americans at all.  As we stood inside the doorway, she led her husband toward us.  He was the Escaño.  After some discussion between them, it was decided that he didn’t know Adolpho Escaño, Steven’s ancestor.   They shook our hands and we were on our way again...

We both agreed it was a little difficult to understand the man.  He had no teeth and as Steven said, “he ate his words.”  I profess to be a photographer nut, but when I saw the goofy grin on Steven’s face as he let the wonder of meeting another Escaño get through his brain, I completely forgot about cameras.  I just shared the moment with him.  It was grand.

NEXT, I tapped in the name of his other family’s village called Macharaviaya.  As we drove downward along the mountain road again, Steven smiled when he reminisced about his grandmother telling him she could see the sea from her village.  He saw what she saw and his voice turned warm. When we found the road to the second village, he drove us upward and around mountains until the cliff dropped off and my heart sped up, frantically at times.  We found the village etched deep in the hills above the sea. We realized it was across the valley from my ancestor’s home, Benagalbón.  It is a small world.  I’ve said this so many times as we have found so many Spanish connections.

The village appeared as if out of the clouds.  And it was charming.  Ceramic tiles. Old buildings mixed with the new.  For some reason, I am drawn to the old, dilapidated houses.  I wish I knew the story embedded in their antique walls, stone and uneven windows.

By then, we were starting to slow down.  Oh!  A bar/restaurant and it was 12:30.  I believe a cold beer had his name on it.  He told the woman that his family was from the village.  I saw him beam when she responded with a grin.  Yes, it was truly Steven’s day and I was delighted to be part of it.

Altramuces

When we returned to Torre Del Mar, my plan was to lay under a sea-grass umbrella and read the rest of the afternoon away.  We walked to the beach, found a table to eat and shared another scrumptious Spanish meal...and the tablecloth nearly blew away with the wind.  We ate rosada (fish), tortilla espanola (potato and egg omelet), red pepper salad, and chilled gazpacho.  And wine...When I had my first taste of both the gazpacho and the tortilla espanola, I swooned.  Only in Spain...

I have decided that the 20 euro SIM card I put into my phone is probably the best $20 something I have ever spent since the GPS routing ability lifted the stress of the drive!  Tomorrow, we go to Fuengirola where the Mediterráneo Statue waits for me to stand in front of her for a new and updated photo.  And then, a hammock, sea-grass umbrella and a good book.