Bum arm update

It feels a little like I’ve been re-living the pandemic…stuck at home with little to do, wearing no make-up and sweatpants every day. I’d been blowing and going since some time in December – a whirlwind trip to the U.S. that included Texas, California, and Florida, multiple doctor appointments, and visits with lots of friends. Then, on return to Begur, for two weeks I jumped back into my routine of classes, Petanca, meetings, and meals out with friends. Then, boom, I fell and broke my arm.

I have private insurance here in Spain, which I am required to have in order to obtain/maintain my residency visa. On the day I fell, while I was on the way to the Emergency Room, I called the insurance company to obtain whatever authorization I needed, and I was told to go to the hospital in Girona. That’s an hour from where I live! And there is a hospital about 20 minutes from me in Palamós, just 15 minutes from where I was when I called. My arm hurt and I was scared. I did not want to go to Girona, and had no intention of doing so. That meant I would have to pay for my care. I was given an X-ray, saw an ER doctor, placed in a sling, and given a prescription for some analgesic medication. It was 350€ ($378). I can only imagine how much it would have cost in the U.S. I’ve had a couple of follow-up doctor appointments at that hospital at 50€ each, and a CAT scan for 120€. I’m still under $1,000! My Catalan neighbor thought this was expensive!! This just pushes all my buttons about how messed up the U.S. healthcare system is because citizens in most Western countries have a right to health care. Period.

During this time of disability, I learned to compensate in various ways using my teeth, my legs, my shoulder, and even my underarm to open a wine bottle with the two-armed opener. And I looked up and found on the internet (there is everything there!) how to put your hair in a ponytail if you only have one arm. That woman was amazing, but I never mastered it. Anyway, my arm is stronger every day, but it’s still uncomfortable and I’m still homebound because I can’t drive. I have a long list of errands to run once I can get behind the wheel again! Because I live at the end of a long and very winding road to get to the nearest town, it seems dangerous to try to maneuver with one arm. So, I wait… Enough whining.

Some friends have stepped up to drive me to my Catalan class twice a week, which is about 30 minutes from my apartment. One day recently, the class went to a wine tasting (10:00 a.m.!!) at a nearby winery. The tour and discussion was all in Catalan, which was the point. The winery is one of four located in a valley near the sea where farmers still practice traditional family farming. The Molla family that owns the winery has held onto the property without interruption since 1338!!! Since that time, they have produced artisanal wine in wooden barrels using no chemicals. They do not even use irrigation techniques. They sell their natural wines (red, white, rosé, and sparkling) directly from the farm and only to established local clients. The family member who gave the tour explained that a viticulturist who came to study the grapes growing in their vineyard discovered over 30 varieties of grapes, seven of which exist no where else in the world today.

The Molla family truly reaps what they sow, with only what hard work and nature provide. The results are a unique product – each barrel each year produces a different taste. It’s an amazing place, a business unlike any of our time.

One-liter bottles, no label. Pure and simple and good.

So, besides my bi-weekly classes of Catalan in a classroom setting, and my bi-weekly online classes of Catalan with my tutor, I now have a weekly coffee date with a volunteer from the program created by a Consortium to promote the study of Catalan language. You’d think I’d be totally fluent by now!! Ha ha.

My coffee partner is a local Catalan businessman with a family who lives and works in my town, and who has great pride in his Catalan culture and language and wants to share it with others who are interested in learning it. He’s so enthusiastic and eager to share his insights into the language and everything about the Catalan way of life. One day we went to the supermarket together and talked about food in Catalan. And he’s the one who unfortunately was first to the scene when I fell, and he wound up driving me to the hospital while we spoke in Catalan, Spanish and English because I was so shaken up.

Last week my coffee guy was asked to do an interview on the local radio station about the volunteer program. Besides me, he also teaches a class of parents from the school who are from other countries or other parts of Spain. The students themselves are taught some percentage of the day in Catalan, a language some of their parents do not speak. Today he told me the radio station has offered him a weekly program and one day he’d like to interview me on-air about my experiences in learning Catalan. How funny would that be?