12 Days with the Lopez

Guadi on the bottom, Ines above, Marcelo to the right, and Made on top of everyone. A very happy family during a very happy day at the beach.
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In the middle of August, the Martos left Spain to visit Mariolinas family in Italy for twelve days. Although I was invited (and would have loved) to join them, but the time we discussed the possibility, summer plane fares to Italy were absolutely outrageous. As luck would have it, some good friends of the Martos invited me to live with them, as an Au Pair, for the period of the Martos absence. I was delighted by the idea; it would be an oportunity to know another family, learn another side of life in Spain, and, whats more, get paid for another week and a half! Perfect timing... once again, many thanks to my guardian angel of travels...

Ines, Guadi, Made and I playing in the sand for the camera...
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Little did I know when I arrived the first night, reluctant to say goodbye to the Martos, what a fabulous time I was to have in the household of the Lopez. A family completely different from the Martos and with a completely different way of living and viewing the world, my life with the Lopez was completely distinct from my time with the Martos. With the Lopez, I spent all day everyday playing with their two daughters, Guadalupe and Madaleine, aged 8 and 9. As opposed to the rather calm Carol, Guadi and Made seemed without a pause in their energy and constantly wanted to play cards, swim in the ocean or the pool, and dance. To my great dismay, in fact, they both danced far better than I to the pop music of Spain.

Between the Lopez, Lional and my guy friends in Alicante, I spent the days soaking up the rich Argentinian accent and learning Argentinian phrases and slang...

Lionel, my "soccarista" (lifeguard) friend from Argentina with one of my favorite smiles in Spain...
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Marcelo and Ines, the father and mother of my new family, couldnt have been more welcoming and easy-going. They completely opened their home and hearts to me and, within two days, I felt completely at home in their amazing, though smaller, beachside apartment. Fourteen stories and one street away from the beach, even on the hottest days, the apartment was filled with a cool, fresh breeze. Every two or three days, one of the neighboring villages or cities had a fireworks display, and thanks to our height, we had the best seats to see all of them, free of charge. From my bedroom window at night I could see all of Alicante in the distance and the castle framed against the night sky. Best of all, however, was the balcony; all meals were eaten there and the view was simply indescribable. The beach snaked from right to left and ended far in the distance, buried in a row of Spanish mountains. The sea stretched as far as the eye could see, ending in a single line of sea and sky and at night one could see both the magnificent lights of never-sleeping benidorm and a sky full of stars. For the first time in my life, I saw both the moon and the sun rise from the sea.

A bit of pool play, anyone?
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Guadi, Made and I immediately hit it off. Incredibly affectionate, they had no trouble accepting me as a new part of the family and we did everything together from checking our email to occasionally falling asleep in the same bed. As with the Martos, we spent practically every day on the beach, swimming, playing cards, and talking to Lionel, the Argenitinian life-guard. Interesting to talk to and a bit of a Casanova, Lionel and I spent hours debating questions about how to best live ones life and exchanging new vocabulary words in both English and Spanish.

Marcelo and Made taking on the world together, one beach umbrella at a time.
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As it turned out, the Lopez were actually from Argentina, as was Lionel and my guys friends in Alicante. As a result, in my free time I learned as much as I could about the people, language, and political situation in Argentina. I was dismayed that I had never before heard anything about the crisis in Argentina that had affected the lives of so many millions of people. The Lopez, who had left Argentina in 2001 after having two houses and a travel agency taken from them, had moved to Portugal and then to Spain in order to start life all over again for their daughters. And Juan had an almost identical story to tell; at 22 years old, he seemed to have lived three times more than I and my life, in comparison, seemed to be built on marshmellows and songs.

The view that I devoured along with every meal eaten out on the balcony.
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On a slightly brighter note, I also learned a number of very useful Argentinian phrases and slang. I loved the rich sounds of the Argentinian accent and hoped that someday I would have the opportunity to visit Argentina and see this incredible land for myself.