----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"¿Hablas español?"
It was just a joke -- clearly, this little blond Norwegian kid who was speaking Martian to me as he nestled into my lap in front of the computer wasn't going to speak Spanish. It was my own little way of saying "There's no way we're gonna be able to communicate, buddy, but I may as well toss up a Hail Mary that you aren't going to catch."
But guess what? He pulled it in for the TD.
"¡Claro!" Odin's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He had found someone who "spoke his language," and so out came the Spanish like a rapid-fire submachine gun.
I could not believe what I had just heard ... nor could I really understand it all; partly because the kid has the thickest south of Spain accent you can have, and partly because my español comes out more like a one-at-a-time-and-I-hope-it-doesn't-rain-on-my-gunpowder Spanish conquístador musket.
"¿Por qué tú sabes este idioma?" I asked in bewilderment.
That's easy. Odin is from Spain.
And that's in large part due to his father, Lambiek -- who, judging by the male capri pants he's rocking, has given whole new meaning to the phrase "wearing the pants in the family."
Lambiek is from Bergen. But not that Bergen. The Dutch one. Miriam, his wife, is the Norwegian connection. She is Sissi's little sister. Lambiek, Miriam, Atilla, Michelina and Odin used to live in the south of France, in a marbled-out behemoth of a house, living the high life, until Lambiek had a life-changing epiphany that this was not the way he wanted to raise his children. So he quit his job. Sold his possessions. Sold it all. Picked up the family and moved 'em from a house on a hill to a house on a street with muchos vecinos. Far from the pomp and circumstance of their former elite neighbors, Lambiek and his family now reside in Gerez, a town right next to Cadiz.
And you couldn't meet a man happier with his life than Lambiek.
"Let me tell you something," he said to me in the computer room my second night on the island, volunteering some of his own personal words of wisdom for a 22-year-old kid, full of confusion and obviously at a crossroads in his life. "I used to think, 'Oh, I get a lot of money, I get a big house, nice things, expensive wine, all these things,' and I will be happy. And I got all of these things. I had everything. And you know what? I wasn't happy. I was not happy. So I sold everything, moved my family to Spain, where the people are more real, and decided that this was how I wanted to raise my children. You said earlier that many of your friends like to joke that all they want to do when they get older is 'make a lot of money.' Well, here is what I know: If you can't be happy right now, in this moment -- if you're waiting for something that is going to make you happy -- then you will never be happy my friend."
He disdains the business world, which is ironic, because it was the money he made in his previous life through his business world savvy that has allowed him to adopt such a Bohemian attitude in his new one.
"I don't know what this word 'efficiency' means," Lambiek told me early in the week as we were putting up the fishing nets, cleaning them of the ew-and-goo that loves to stick to the wet pieces of nylon that remain in the water all night. "Everything has to be 'efficient.' Why? Tell me that. Why? We need a faster boat or a faster car, so that we can get home earlier and have an extra thirty minutes to watch television. Me? I'll take my little sail boat, thankyou very much. I'd rather go and fix a fence or something than go and work in this business world.
"All of this technology, all of this knowledge," he continued. "What good does it do unless you are learning the right things? Unless you know how to use this knowledge? My kids, they speak a lot of languages [Dutch, Spanish, English and Norwegian]. But I don't care so much what they speak as I care what they speak about. That is what I am focused on with my kids."
It goes without saying that his thoughts on the war in Lebanon were anything but realpolitik.
Little Odin, however -- quite possibly my closest companion throughout the entire week -- seems to be too focused on how AMAZING every little thing around him on the earth seems to be to realize the unique vantage point his father maintains. When they speak about "seeing things through a child's eyes," they're talking about Odin's take on life.
A FISH!!!! ... A CRAB!!!!! THAT CRAB IS ALIVE!!!! IT'S ALIVE!!!!! OH MY GOD THAT CRAB IS ALIVE!!!!! .... LET'S GO KILL A SHEEP!!!!!! A BIG ONE!!!!!!! ... WE HAVE A CAR!!!!! IT'S FAST!!!!! A FAST ONE!!!!!!
His eyes seem to add at least two exclamation points to every sentence he says, while his high-octane Spanish adds another two. Little Odin most likely forgot all about his friend Bahíamenos (TU NOMBRE ES BAHÍAMENOS!!! BAHÍAMENOS!!! HAHAHAHAH! BAHÍAMENOS!!!!) the second I walked out the door. But I haven't forgotten about him. And I haven't forgotten the words of wisdom uttered by his father.
No comments:
Post a Comment