Subject:   [adventure!] injurious grande finale!

Date:   2/8/2004 1:18:14 PM

 

 

 

So, dear readers, the last email I sent you was about eye injuries. My only

regret with the present email is that I have not enough energy to fully

describe each of my many more recent injuries. They include a wood chip in

the eye (about 1 hour after I sent you the email about the olive branches in

the eyes), a wicked forehead gash that is destined to leave a

Harry-Potter-esque scar (to match the one on the top of my head, acquired a

couple of weeks ago via the process of ramming my head into a tree branch),

cut up palms from flipping out on gravel at full speed trying not to run

over chickens, and a twisted kneed from sliding down a hill after slipping

on an olive net.

 

But the grand finale was falling out of the olive tree. We were working on

the last olive tree of this year´s harvest. I had climbed up to shake some

of the upper branches and knock the olives free and thought "hmmmm, ...

maybe I should climb out onto that old, dead-looking branch". I carefully

put down one foot and tested the branch before slowly putting my other foot

down onto it. It felt solid. Before you judge, let me also mention that

although the branch looked old and dead, it was probably 8 or 10 inches

thick, which is pretty big for climbing on, especially considering some of

the more alive-looking branches I had been using were closer to 2 inches

thick. It was about 10 feet up. So yeah, since the branch felt solid with

both of my feet on it, I decided to jump up and down on it as hard as I

could (feel free to judge at this point). After about two rather vigorous

jumps, I heard a cracking noise.

 

What happened next requires an description of one member of the family that

I have been staying with. Connie has been a mother for 13 years. She is

wonderful with her children and a very thoughtful and caring person, who I

am glad to have had the chance to stay with for the past month.

 

Now, you might expect that when such a good person is standing beside a

tree, and she is watching a friend fall out of that tree, the look on her

face might be one of, maybe shock, ... concern, ... maybe she would be

searching for a way to help her friend not die. That is not the face that

you would see.

 

The branch did not break quickly. I didn´t go flying out of the tree in a

cartoon-like manner. There was instead, a slow, steady lowering of branch

and climber, during which I grabbed pointlessly at the tiny branches above

my head. As I started my descent, I looked over at Connie, the caring

mother, who was doubled over laughing hysterically.

 

During the entire fall, which seemed to take about 10 minutes, I was

laughing so much I barely had the strength to pointlessly grab at the tiny

branches above my head. When my arborial elevator reached the ground floor,

I climbed out laughing with only a couple of scratches on my arm. Another

spectator, Raimund lauded my excellent work ethic, noting that I pulled

about 10 olives off of the tiny branches on my way down.

 

Anyway, I brought a pair of safety glasses with me, and now I´m headed up

North. I´m writing you from Gerona (North of Barcelona) in the same hostel

where I started the Spanish portion of my trip. I´ll head up to France and

meet Misha (the father in the family I stayed with) somewhere, and drive

back to Spain with a truck that he bought in Germany (if he buys two trucks

and needs a friend to drive one home). If that doesn´t make sense to you,

please don´t ask me to explain.

 

Coming soon: pictures from the Alpujarras, xmas on a camel (i finally found

those ones!), and maybe more!

 

I hope you´re all warm and well!

 

Hasta luego!

jay