In The Ear of My Memory

Watching some TED talks recorded in San Luis Potosi and in Mexico City, I became nostalgic for the rhythm and sounds of the Spanish language, especially as it is spoken in Mexico, and particularly in the north.

http://youtu.be/TxZdzceS3a8

I was so moved by this talk of communities in the norte using social media to survive weather disasters and even harsher threats from violence and corruption. I had flashes of aunts and even my grandmother's friends and customers (she sold tortillas in Nueva Ciudad Guerrero, Tamaulipas to support herself) who were from rancho culture, steeped in story-telling set to high volume and much hand-waving.

It was comforting and delicious as the gentle rain that woke me in the night, rare and necessary as the air I breathe.

Where I live and work, Spanish is seldom heard. There are some students who I will pass in the halls who are recent immigrants and I hear them chatting in Spanish, but they are the exception.

As I plan my trip to Spain soon, I wonder if the language as it is spoken there can possibly pull my heart strings like the cadence and plain, direct delivery of Spanish of my memory.