What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it is all about?

Man, life flies. I have been around for 22 years but I still have no idea how to reconcile that into anything. I mean, I have gained experiences, I have learned and grown, but to most other humans I am still young, and being faced with mountains and buildings which have spanned centuries, well, I just have a hard time fitting the context. In this same way, things can happen, big things, that can throw us off kilter. Like, moving to a foreign country, for instance. But sometimes those things seem more managable than say, a double booking over the holidays or a sickly laptop. Humans are so strange.
So, as I am sure you can tell from what I have already said, I have been spending a lot of time outside, just thinking, because my laptop is on the fritz (I am using Marga´s) but I have yet to find anyone to look at it, so I don´t know. It is largely due to my dislike of the foreign keyboard that I have not posted. That and the fact that I can´t upload pictures. Again, something tiny having a disproportionate effect...
So that is my apology for not having photos with this posting.

Since I last posted, I have been living on much as I have in the first month of coming here. Exploring, learning, loving.
I went on a ladies picnic last week with 4 of the women from school and their children. We went to Isabelle's country house, settled into a hillside outside Valldemossa. I helped get the food started and chatted with the women as the kids played in the expansive yard, spanning three terraced levels of earth. I soon set off to explore the trails around Valldemossa, as I am planning a cross-island hike that goes through here. I set off with my little backpack, in my hiking clothes with my map and I was on top of the world. Turns out I became incredibly lost and, at no point do I think I actually had any idea where I was, but it was fun and the valley and hills were so beautiful. I always knew how to get back to the town and that was really all I needed. I watched the differing phases of daylight move across the town and the trees and made it back by 2 for lunch.
We ate in the traditional old kitchen, with the fire burning in the corner. And I was totally in on all the grown up talk. And, listen, this is to all you adults who ever told me "I´ll tell you when you are older" or any other such dismissal, I want you to know that you guys made adult talk seem a lot more exciting than it actually is. I mean, jeeze, most of the time you just talk about your kids and stuff. I thought the secrets of the world would be laid out flat and clear. Turns out you guys are just as confused about things as we were. Except you worry about serious things, we kids were mainly worried aobut who had the better fort.
But it was fun, I felt like an explorer into this new territory of `adult womanhood.´ Sitting and talking and bustling. I think I am getting pretty good at it, but I do still have tons of work left to do. As evening approached we packed all the kids and dogs and food up and went home. It was an awesome day.
Then on Sunday, Marga and I met up with the big group of teachers again and we went on another excursion. This time we walked the cliff tops of Cap Blanc, to the south west lip of the bay to Palma. The cliff faces waved off into the distance, eventually giving way to a glimpse of the largest city on these islands (comprising half the population of the entire territory) as a tiny haze of buildings. The cliffs were orange and warm, like the sun that day. So different from the gray and white of the cliffs in England. An entirely different feeling and alluring in its own way. We walked in the sun and the breeze along the incredibly flat brink of the cliffs. Stopping to look out to the sea and chat. We quickly came across some old soldier bunkers. Some little mounds dug out with views out to the sea. To defend against pirates. Seriously. Anna. Pirates.
We found a tunnel between bunkers but no one wanted to go through it because it was so dark. Being a Hughes, I of course had a flashlight on me. Three of us walked through the tunnel. It was very tunnely. Long, dark, cold, echoey. Cool.
We went on about another hour and then sat on the cliff for our lunch. A few of the women were incensed that some had suggested we only spend an hour eating lunch so we could walk more. It quickly became clear that this was generally regarded as impossible. So we settled to. Same elaborate lay out of food, same lounging and constant preoccupation with keeping me from going too close to the ledge, same mutual joy in sharing in such an amazing place.
The seagulls drifting on winds below us, the low shrubbery that hid delicious mushrooms under their branches (the women were teaching me about which are safe and which are poisinous). It was a brilliant and tiring day. Just my kind!
Since then it has been back to classes, starting to do a little tutoring so that is good, and today, on our weekly adventure, Cristina and I went to a village called Sant Elm, that looks out over this nature preserve island called ´sa dragonera´. The place was a literal ghost town, as it was a cloudy and chilly day, but Cristina and I had a coffee and talked about life and watched the water and enjoyed the peace and silence.
And now I am sitting here, sharing it all with you, thinking about dinner and starting to do a little lesson planning, but I had actually better get to it.

I love you all, thank you.