No map of the village could be found. It is small, a bit dirty and spread out in such a way that made exploration difficult; we felt like strangers. It was the only village we found that touched us like this; our own ancestral village. We were a little stunned but persevered.
We asked a woman in a narrow street who called to another woman to ask for us…"Hola! Pilar!... Within moments, several women stood around the car each trying to talk over the other. Spanish conversation bounced around us like marbles in a ceramic jar. After loud and intricate deliberation, nobody knew where the street was, nor had they heard of the Silvan family…. Dogs were everywhere, children played in the narrow streets that were more than alleys but less than streets. Everyone smiled, waved to one another and generally speared our hearts with their camaraderie. I loved it and Steven and I agreed the answer was: they liked one another. Why couldn't the world like this way???
Driving through the streets looking for Calle San Salvador didn’t make sense so I suggested we ask a some old gentlemen who were sitting on a stone wall chatting under the shade of trees at the edge of town. Instead, he chose the gas station attendant who gave Steven the same suggestion. (I tried not to smile).
And yes! Within moments, we had directions (they guessed at it) and in a heartbeat, we were looking at the avenue sign. There was #1 and #3 and #7. No #6 but a metal garage-type door hovered in the place of #6. We stared at it, mesmerized and sat quietly as we realized our family lived there, abuelita walked on the stones beneath us and we were satisfied. We’d come home for her.
With full hearts we returned to Toro for our last night on the mountain 40 miles away where we planned to drink Spanish wine that tasted like sunshine... We found Toro's specialty wine and dinner on the patio of plaza mayor --- covered with brightly colored, ceramic tiles, music in the air and Spanish conversation. Children played on the square in wild abandon, slipping in and around adults taking their evening paseo, arm in arm --- slowly away from the constant toil and hurry. We drank our wine and sniffed the air appreciatively and watched the play of light on the cathedral and heard the clock tower toll the 10 o'clock bell. All was well. Sunday morning we would say goodbye to Toro...