Salamanca

When I served my mission in Spain, I spent the most time in one city, Salamanca. I served my first four months and my final seven months in that great city. I think I came to know Salamanca and it's people better than most missionaries came to know any one particular city, simply due to the amount of time I was there.

To say that I loved and still love Salamanca is an understatement. For me, that city represents everything that I love about Spain: the people, the history, the language, the food.... there isn't anything that I don't like. I have wonderful memories of certain parts of the city: the Plaza Mayor, the old and new cathedrals, the university, the Casa de Conchas, the Puente Romano (Roman bridge), the apartment building we lived in, the parks and streets we walked daily and where we made contact with so many interesting people.

This is a picture of me sitting on one of the support structures for the Puente Romano. I think it was taken during my second time in Salamanca, so it would have been somewhere in the second half of 1986. I think from the picture you can begin to get some idea of the greatness of the city, with the old and new cathedrals in the background. (You can also see I was quite a bit younger then.) Que guapo! One of the things I wanted to do on my return visit to Salamanca was to get a photo from the same perspective. You can see that a little further down in this post.


We arrived in Salamanca on Sunday afternoon. After checking into the hotel, one of the first things we did was to drive to my old apartment building. I'm sure it wasn't very exciting for Carey, Russell or Janelle, but they were good enough to indulge me this trip down memory lane.

La Calle Federico Anaya, 88, 8-A. That was the street address we were looking for. Didn't take too long to find it. At first it didn't seem all that familiar, but after I imagined the trees a little smaller, the familiarity began to show through. We parked a hundred yards or so down the street and as we were walking toward the building, I wondered if any of the people we were passing were folks that I made contact with years ago.


The front door to the building was slightly open, so the four of us went in. We all crammed into the elevator. Elevators in Spain are notoriously small; we wouldn't have been able to fit a fifth person in with us. We rode to the eighth floor and got off. I felt at home, but I think Carey, Russ and Janelle were a little uncomfortable standing there, uninvited, on the landing common to four different apartments. I had Russ take a picture of me standing in front of apartment "A", which is where I lived so long ago. I don't remember the door being a nice as it is now.

Since the others were a little nervous, we hopped back on the elevator and rode it down and went back out onto the sidewalk. For some reason, I decided to ring the buzzer on the panel at the front door to the building, just to see if anyone in the old apartment would answer. A nice-sounding Spanish lady answered. I asked her if she would open the door for me and let me in. She asked who I was, and I told her that I was a missionary for the Mormon Church. She hesitated a bit and said she wasn't sure if she should (open the door for me). Almost apologetically, she asked if I understood. I assured her that I did and it was ok. Russ, who by this time had put a little distance between himself and me, was a little embarrassed, but oh well, I had fun speaking Spanish and remembering the good old days. No harm done.

We got ourselves back in the car and went back toward the center of the city and found a place to park for awhile. That evening, we spent some time in the Plaza Mayor, (great, or main, plaza). This, too, brought back a lot of memories for me. I can't begin to count the number of times that I passed through the plaza during my time in Salamanca. It almost seemed surreal to be there again.

Over the next 24 hours, we took in many of the sites. We spent some time touring the cathedral. They've opened up some new sections for tours since my time there. The cathedrals and other old buildings have always impressed me. It's amazing to see the kind of works that could be created so many centuries ago, before computers and modern machinery. The photo to the left is one of Carey and I on top of the old (or maybe the new) cathedral. Quite impressive.

Here is the picture of me sitting on one of the supports for the Roman bridge, with the cathedrals in the background. You can see that much has changed over the years, not the least of which is the fact that I've clearly gotten older. I don't feel older, but good grief....

Salamanca. If you ever go to Spain, it's a must-see city.

Espana - A return to the mother land.

Some of you may know that this past Sunday night, I returned from an incredible trip to Spain, which I made with my wife, my youngest brother, Russell, and our dear friend, Janelle. The trip was, in a word, awesome. For me it represented a dream over 21 years in the making. To be able to finally return to the land of my mission (and Russell, to his) after all this time.... well, frankly, in some ways it seems like it was a dream. I can't believe we actually went. I've thought about it for years and, since Russ returned, talked about it for almost as many.

Thanks to Russ' persuasion and to the willingness of family and friends to step in and help with kids and many other little things that would have provided a million reasons not to go, we took the plunge and made the trip. As I said already, it was awesome. I regret nothing about it. Yes, there were things that could have gone a little more smoothly and, if the dollar were a little stronger, a bit less costly, but I regret nothing.

Time permitting, and as a long-passed work associate used to say "God willing and the creek don't rise", I hope to post some of our experiences in written form. Until then, I leave you with one of the many moments of lightheartedness we enjoyed. While in Barcelona, we explored the Park Guell. The park was commissioned by Eusebi Guell, who wanted a prime location for the high class of the city to enjoy. Guell commissioned Antoni Gaudi to create the park. Guadi usually did not have the means (money or materials) to create the works he envisioned. It happened that Guell had both the land and the money, so the two were a perfect match.

I think we explored practically the whole 50 acre park. There were a lot of beautiful and interesting creations to look at and explore. Imagine our suprise, however, when we actually came upon Gaudi, resting from his labors. We were careful not to disturb him, although Janelle insisted on getting a photo with him. This is the best we could do, since he was asleep and all.

Road rage

Last Friday night, I had an experience that, as I told my good wife, represented two more reasons why I need a weapon.

Reason number one: I got onto I-17 northbound at Thomas Rd. at about 10:30. A little more than one mile north, just prior to the Camelback exit, the left side window behind me (back seat window) exploded inward. Glass everywhere. The 'explosion' was pretty dang loud; scared the heck out of me. I seriously thought that I was under attack and that someone had taken a shot at me. I reached for a weapon to return fire, but..... imagine my disappointment at not finding one.

Thankfully, I was able to maintain composure and quickly dialed 911 and pulled off at the Bethany Home exit and parked my now wounded vehicle in a vacant lot and awaited the police. Two of Phoenix's finest soon arrived. Nice guys. They took a look around the vehicle and came to the conclusion that it was more likely a rock that someone had thrown at me that caused the damage, since no bullet or remnants were found in the vehicle. I think I'll just stick with the "someone shot at me" version. It sounds better. In any case, I'm glad it didn't happen one window forward. It would have been a shame to have had my handsome face messed up by the glass.

I made it home without any further incident, although the ride was a bit noisy and windy. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to put plastic or anything over the gaping shotgun-blast hole in my window. As a result, my car had a visitor in the night. A cat decided to explore the interior and leave its mark. My car doesn't smell very good. Now you know reason number two.

The support of good friends

Many years ago (boy, that makes me sound way too old), my father taught me a lesson that I will never forget. I don't remember the circumstances that gave rise to the occasion, nor do I even remember the exact words that he used, but he taught me the importance of having friends, particularly good friends. At the time, I didn't appreciate the lesson that he was trying to teach me. Over the years, however, I think I've come to that understanding.

The last few years in particular have brought me many experiences that have helped to teach me the importance of good friends. Some of those experiences have involved a lot of laughter, fun and great times together. Other experiences have involved sorrow and pain, such as the very recent passing of the son and grandson of some very dear friends. Despite the changing circumstances, however, the one constant that seems to stand above the rest is the love and support of good friends.

I am sometimes left emotionally overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and concern toward those who are grieving. If it is overwhelming to me, I know that it must provide some measure of strength and comfort for those whose grief seems almost insurmountable.

I am likewise amazed at the capacity of those who find themselves in terrible circumstances to pick themselves up and continue forward. Of course, the ability to do that is often the result of having good friends and family nearby, and it is always the result of having a solid spiritual foundation and knowledge of our Heavenly Father's plan for his children. That knowledge, that foundation and those friends, while they may not diminish our grief, certainly increase our capacity to bear the trials that are placed before us.

I have been so incredibly blessed to be surrounded by so many people that are good, solid folks. And I've been overwhelmingly blessed with incredible family and friends.

1/31/08 - Glendale, AZ - Performing before a packed, standing-room only crowd at Ironwood High School's auditorium on Thursday night, members of the school student body participated in an invitation only talent show. In all, 12 different talents were presented to the sold-out crowd. The Sahuaro Ranch Ward was well represented by Nick Quintana and Dallas Perkins. Although an official "place" was not received, an honorable mention is worthwhile for Nick and his band, aptly named "Dick Cheney and the Misfires", who worked their magic in the first half of the performance, playing and singing a tune that until that moment, was previously unheard of by this writer. The guitar and drum work was sweet. This was not your father's rock band and as I sat enjoying the moment, I thought of the saying "If the music's too loud, you're too old." I, for one, am still not too old.

Placing 2nd in the overall competition, Dallas tickled the ivory with lightning fingers, playing a stiring rendition of Jon Schmidt's "All Of Me." Kudos to the setup crew, who this year had the foresight to do something with the grand piano (open it up?) so as to allow the audience to actually hear the music. However, thumbs down to the same crew, who had the piano situated in such a manner so as to obscure the keys from view of most in attendance. Those unable to see Dallas work the ivory missed out on part of the performance. During an after-concert interview with his friend and home teaching companion, Jarret Sharp, Dallas was overheard to say, "I do it for the audience." Humbly said, Dallas. Humbly said.

Those interested in seeing, or better yet, hearing, a video clip of the first part of Dallas' performance, the following link should take you to it. Turn up the volume.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEY2Z9hUvKE