Espana, adios!

This may not be the most coherent post I´ve ever written, having gone to bed late last night after our farewell dinner and waking up early this morning because we load the buses for the airport in an hour. But I´d like to attempt something summnative of Spain before we depart the actual land, so please bear with me.

Our time in Spain, like time at school, has both flown by and seemed like forever. Even yesterday seems like a very long time ago; I woke up at 6 to go running in the Jardin del Turia in Valencia, got on a bus, had a conversation (or attempted conversation) with a Spanish shepherd at a restaurant, had lunch in Madrid, re-packed, and drove out to El Escorial for set-up, rehearsal, concert, tear-down and dinner. With packed days like these, every day for two weeks, the time has seemed long.
But at the same time I can't believe that these two weeks are already over. In some ways I feel like we're just beginning, but now we all have to go our separate was. Last night's concert was an emotional one, as the seniors are saying good-bye to St. Olaf, orchestra, and their friends all at once. Most of us who aren't seniors are just saying good-bye for the summer, but we still have to say our final good-byes to senior friends. The St. Olaf Orchestra will exist next year and it will be the usual excellent ensemble, but it will never be *this* particular St. Olaf Orchestra again.

At the end of this trip, my primary emotion is gratitude. This has been a wonderful opportunity to play, in the very fullest sense of the world. I got to explore cities, deepen friendships with fellow orchies and play concerts where the music was different each time. Bernstein's "Symphonic Dances from West Side Story" has been the piece that grows on me each night. Barber's Medea has been a rock of passionate orchestral sound. And while I thought that "La Virgen de la Macarena" was a cheesy piece in rehearsal, I have thoroughly enjoyed every performance on tour, both because our soloist Martin Hodel sells it so well, and the audiences love to hear us play it. The travel has also been like a time to play--to be a kid and hang out with friends and explore new places. To experience the richness of this time--it's a gift.

There are so many stories about Spain that just won't fit into the little chunks of internet time that we carve out. None of us has written anything about our wonderful Spainish guide Josu who regaled us with stories, advice and his personal version of Spanish history. I could write a whole entry about communication--all the times I failed and the few times that I succeeded, despite all the barriers. There's the odd travel stories, like when the two railings of our venue nearly electrocuted two of the percussionists, and a bird pooped on the glockenspiel at our one outdoor concert. Early morning walks, having no-talent night in the hotel *disco,* singing grace before dinners, and of course the beautiful, beautiful country of Spain...there's so much to tell.

On that note, I'd better wrap up and go grab breakfast. For all readers, thanks for coming along for the ride. As the Spanish say, Adios, or in a liberal translation, Godspeed.