An evening at L’Hermita
I had fun last night though, at the little conversation group at L’Hermita.
I talked to a youngish woman from an aldea, I think is the word, a tiny town it means. In Galicia. She taught me the word for bagpipe. I wrote it down. They play them in Galicia- which comes from Gaul, you prolly know. They were/are Gauls/Celts. She was really sweet, a pleasure to talk to. Then I moved on to an even younger woman. By they way they were assigned to me, I had no choice. This one is Morrocan and just moved here from France. Really sweet. Must be in her early 20’s.
It felt like I was talking to an angel, her voice was so child like. English not bad, Spanish not bad, we spoke a little in French too. The French coming out of my mouth was a bit sprinkled with Spanish, not so much the words as the pronunciation. “Un po'” instead of un peut- that sort of thing. Her mission is to acquire languages apparently. Her’s is a Berber family. She learned a little of that at home on the Atlantic coast of Morocco. I had my large water color pad with me to finish a drawing of L’Hermita and I realized I put a column in the wrong place. I showed her my drawing. She liked it.
The woman who leads this group has bright red hair. She looks very Celtic. more than I do. I sat next to an Italian guy and we talked about the new Papa- which means potato in Central America. I joked that they chose an Argentinian since there are no Catholics in Italy anymore. He laughed. We spoke a little in Italian too. He was deep in conversation with a few others so we did not talk much.