The Town of a Thousand Bells

The Voyage

I hunker down into my seat preparing for a journey that will take me nearly an entire day. I spend the majority of the flight reading “The Alchemist” on my phone. It is a book of adventure, treasure, and life. Upon finishing I am more than excited to get to my destination, but understanding that everything along the way has limitless potential as well. After arriving in Barcelona I navigate to the train station using only English and frantic body language. On the train I met a group of guys from Arizona who were going to the running of the Bulls. They were as friendly as could be, and even encouraged me to come as well. That will be something for another day. I manage to finagle the train system of Spain to get on the proper one that would take me to meet my host at a time we set some days ago. I sat nervously on the train in silence with the other 20 or so passengers. Very quickly the silence was broken when a young couple boarded the train and sat across from me. We talked about our lives and what there was to do in the area. They gave me some much needed encouragement and guided me to my destination. 

Arrival in Fortia

I dismounted the train at the station not knowing what to expect on the other side. I was in an entirely foreign place meeting someone I did not know. As I walk out of the train station to this bustling one way street I see a van pull up with three people smiling ear to ear. One looked like my host, so I began walking towards it. They all hop out of the van with an overwhelming flood of greetings. As we were still hanging around each others’ necks two more people on bikes rode up, and began greeting us as well. To my surprise there were many other volunteers with this host. We took the 15 minute drive outside the city to the village Fortia. At the house we stayed at I met another volunteer and my other host. They were all so jolly and helpful it was a bit much to take in to say the least. After a while of chatting we sat down for dinner, which is around 9:30pm at the earliest, sometimes at 11pm. Each volunteer takes turns cooking dinner for the household. Everything is truly a teamwork effort, everyone carries their own weight. 

The Mediterranean in Catalonia

Dinner with the Crew

A wall I built and destroyed

The People of Fortia

I sit around the table with people from all over the world and we eat a delicious meal while exchanging laughs and stories. There was Loris from Italy, he is a quiet reserved Italian guy that will surprise you with a hilarious joke here and there. He does everything with a sense of Italian pride, but would undoubtedly give you the shirt off his back. Then there is Alyssa from the US, she is a quirky gymnastics coach from Idaho. She is 100% the facilitator of conversation and action. She left my third day, and I was honestly worried that we might be silent and not do anything the rest of the time here. However, where we lost a spunky ball of energy we picked up two Brits who know how to make you laugh. There names are Jack and Mia, they both have a sort of working class attitude mixed with a ruthless Liverpool accent. They are not shy to make a joke or hide the truth. There is also Christoph from Germany, he is this guy with a huge heart but a very rough exterior. He did graphic design, has a dog, and is riding his bike across Spain. He is the type to lead with confidence, disagree before he understands, and help whenever possible. Last of the volunteers is Obena, he is this Cali guy who  goes to school in D.C. so he has this odd amalgamation of East and West coast. He is almost so chill that he is intense if that makes any sense. He is the hardest worker of the bunch, doesn’t complain, and is full of knowledge. Then there is Sabine the energizer bunny of a proper French woman mixed with the Mediterranean culture of Spain. She is at a million places all at once in Fortia. From saying hello to everyone in the street to petitioning street workers to save a tree to working on remodel of her Spanish Villa style home. Lastly, there is Charlie the Frenchman, he dresses like a Texan, works like a contractor, and acts with a sense of French flamboyancy. These are the people who make up my home away from home.

Life in Fortia

Then there is Fortia, the beautiful village located East the main city of Figueres, West of the beach, and smack dab in the middle of endless corn fields. In Fortia the bells chime every 15 minutes; at :15 once, :30 twice, :45 three times, :60 the hour at all hours of the day and night. Here life is a little more relaxed, Siestas are mandatory, and everyone looks out for one another. We spend the first part of the day drinking coffee and renovating the house, sometimes with jackhammers other times with brooms, and the other half eating, napping, and adventuring to the occasional beach or mountain. There is one market, one pharmacy, one park, and one parking lot. In my first few days here I have pressure washed and used a grinder on an 19th century vaulted brick roof, demolished walls, rebuilt walls, and dug a hole for a tree. While not working I have learned a variety of languages including German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Catalan. My experience is not as I expected in many ways, but without a doubt it is more abundant that I could have ever foreseen.

The Source of the Bells

A Beautiful Lunch

The Magnificent Countryside, where the sun rises at 6am and sets at 9pm.