HyperX wrote:
It's the differences between us that show us who we are. Love yourself for who you are.
I have to bring up another occasion though, where there was this youth exchange, after an arduous twelve week residential, and my country were the hosts, the latter half of the group were Spanish guests.
I can say the experience was maybe haunteringly bewildering and honest to a degree, as I felt in no position to 'host', as it were, especially to a group of foreign nationals, but it turned out ok in the end, well, it was a rollercoaster of a week, and I found them quite engaging, I often got embarrassed by the lack of crossover introspection from us Brits, but we weren't all born with silver spoons in our mouths, so usually, as usually introverted as I am, I casually decided to bring up the rear and 'entertain'. Luckily, I had some encouragement from my ex school mate who showed up out the blue one night as a DJ, I had no idea he fancied me..like he was just an old mate..but something got me up on those tables dancing to NightFever and Stayin Alive.. I think, this was owing to my retro taste in music and some persuasive high school undertones I opted for. Some of the exchange students were from Madrid, others Barcelona.
I only bring this up now, as I've just finished reading a book on Franco's civil war in Spain, made almost entirely from non-fiction material using fictitious characters to boost the book along. What made me realise why I was so engrossed in the book, had something to do with the emotional ending of the exchange, and such parting was unusally and highly upsetting for me. (It was like a last holocaust meeting) and I think that maybe I felt a raw part of a real family, that suddenly became dispersed and had to head back home, there was countless tears, and emotional farewells, I had formed one such close bond and I just felt I could not take it. The same separist struggles that Juan Paulo and some others probably were accustomed to wasn't lost on me. It was them who wouldn't let us detach ourselves. I was 19 and i remember getting so upset I ended up doing the undertakers share of the sweeping, the unrelenting praise was one thing, it certainly made me focus on the harsh realities of outside suburban existence, modern urbanism has swept the core shackles of these communist countries away now, but the book brought an eternal ancestral plight to the fore, as most of Vicky Hislops books do.