Ten days alone in the silence.

On the road to Chio.

It was during the time that I was on tour as a freelance artist on Tenerife. In a period of two and a half years I lived, slept, was at home on twenty-seven different places. Without any money, but with a bus ticket worth 30€ I went on my way, this time to Chio, in the south of the island. As I arrived in the village it was already dark and I didn't know exactly where to find the finca I was looking for. But the people on the island are very helpful, so I visited the village's supermarket with confidence. A supermarket is here something like a social meeting place and a substitute for the local newspaper. Soon I found there two señoras, mother and daughter who were obviously related to the dueño (owner) of the finca. Here everyone is somehow related to everybody.

Adventurous.
The two ladies were immediately ready to accompany me. The way to the finca was quite adventurous and dangerous in the dark. They picked up a flashlight, took two bags from me and walked in front of me. Once arrived, they said goodbye and wished me good luck. I was happy to find some candles there, because there was no gas or electricity. But I had running water, only cold. For prepairing dinner or coffee, I had to make a fire outside. My daily work consisted of collecting wood, which was to be found in abundance. Being able to make coffee in the morning while getting up, without having to look for combustible material beforehand, is a form of luxury. For the first three days I lived off what I found in the kitchen, macaroni and spaghetti with tomato sauce. The next three days I ate bread, which got drier every day. Something clearly had to happen, because I had no idea how long this adventure would take.

A silver necklace.
The only precious thing I had was a silver necklace with a moonstone in a silver border. A birthday present from a friend from India who had a business on the island. I wanted to know where I could sell this necklace and logically I first asked in the supermarket. People looked at me a little strangely, and I got the good advice when I needed money to report to the Social Welfare Office. I went on searching until a nice girl who worked at the post office told me that a shop in the next town bought jewellery. It was too late now to go by bus and be back home before nightfall.

Waiting.
The next day I was on my way, my stomach growled. The lagartos or geckos had eaten my last piece of dry bread that night. I should have hidden it better. It took forever before a bus came. Just as I began to doubt, my patience was fortunately rewarded. Soon I had arrived in the town and found the shop. The owner wasn't there yet and the girl who was employed in the shop couldn't decide on any purchases. So I had to wait. There was a wooden bench nearby, where I sat in the sun. Luckily I always carry a bottle of water with me. It was later and later. The store closed in the afternoon and was reopened after two hours. This is where you have a siesta. I had been smoking my last two cigarettes for a long time and I longed for a cup of coffee. Around five o' clock in the afternoon, the owner finally entered the shop, I immediately afterwards.

Tears in my eyes.
I put my necklace on the counter and asked if she was interested in buying it. She answered resolutely with NO and told me that the people on the island don't like these stones very much. Tears came to my eyes and I explained to her that I hadn't eaten properly over the past three days and I only asked for 20 euros. She grabbed the chain, gave me my 20 euro and came behind the counter to hug me. I felt like a little kid. When she held me in her arms, she said, por favor mi niña, no llura ( please, my child, don't cry). No one needs to cry here. She disappeared briefly into a small kitchen to make coffee for me and sent a woman, who was also just in the store, to a supermarket nearby. A little later this lady came back with a plastic bag of delicious fresh sandwiches, a pack of ham, cheese and a big bottle of fruit juice. Everything for me. Again I got tears in my eyes, moved by so much human understanding and love. But now I was in a real hurry. I had to rush to the bus stop because it would soon become dark. Overjoyed I nibbled from my bread and cheese while waiting for the bus. How a simple piece of bread can taste heavenly. Many people in the western world, no longer know this feeling I thought and I had to laugh at myself. I am and will remain an optimist, under all circumstances.

Even the ham tasted delicious.
Arrived at the finca, I even liked the ham, although I haven't eaten meat and sausages for five years. That night I enjoyed the silence differently, which reigned here. No radio, no TV, just the soft ringing of bamboo wind chimes next to the door. I made a cosy fire in the fireplace, took a few candles and started to write down my thoughts, which I later handed over to my son.

No matter what happens.
On the weekend I got a visit from a Canarian friend. He brought something tasty to eat and a bottle of wine. We had a great day together. He loved being at the finca in nature. It realy is very nice there, if you don't have to starve. On a clear day you can see the island of La Gomera, an indescribable view. When he went home, he gave me 20€ so I wouldn't be in the same situation again. We still are good friends. The next day I got a late evening call from my friend who owns the finca. He said that I had to come back to Puerto de la Cruz the next morning. He had organized something very good for us. I asked him what it was about. He just said: 'You'll see when you get back here, but come soon'. I was happy to return to civilization. Ten days of silence was really enough for me. Many insights were given to me. Some of them I had written down for my son. Things are important when we make them important. It all depends on our perspectives and reactions to life. As I later gave him my thoughts, he said: 'Thanks mam, something else to keep in my treasure chest.'

And again, with all my stuff, the next morning I set off, curious about my next adventures.

Rasta Lady