Help Me Rhonda

Gorges are the product of natures infinite patience. There is little urgency when you have no goal, no clear start or finish. Nature acts because the laws that govern it require it to and will continue to do so until movement becomes more painful then stillness. Chemically speaking stillness is impossible wherever energy exists, particles must move as long as the have energy to lose, so perhaps the patience of nature is not necessarily a lack of urgency as we know it with patience in humans, but an abundance of energy. Without fear of losing energy to stillness, as all humans are born with, nature can sit patiently and allow its movements, the slight pressure of water, wind, and moving earth, and with those movements it can create structures more grand and fabulous than any humans have ever been able to, with all of our attempts. With all of our urgency.
Rhonda is a city situated on two sides of a gorge. On one side is the old city, apparently named so because, well because its older, and on the other side is the new city. The two sides are connected by two bridges aptly named the old bridge and the new bridge for similar reasons as specified above. The city itself is quaint, full of little shops and neighborhoods with old men who sit and talk about when the old city was the only city and th new city was no city and how both bridges are older than the old city and it should really be thought of as oldest bridge, old bridge, not as old city, and really pretty new city and so on and so forth forever and ever amen. The city is interesting but unspectacular except of course for the land around and under it. The gorge under the new bridge is over 100 km deep (300 ft and change) and the bridge extends all the way to its bottom stopping just short of a waterfall where jets of water stream out like a fountain made by man and nature in one of their few cooperative efforts. The hills to the side are covered in flowers that bloom all year long so the beauty of the greenery is contrasted by the bleak and barren walls of the canyon.
We walked down into the canyon (you have a to pay a nice man about a dollar to walk through his yard but it really is worth it and he seems like a nice guy) and were surprised by how different the little city looked from the bottom of the gorge. From the bridge the town appears to spread out endlessly around the gorge, challenging it to expand into the thriving community that had mastered it with its bridges, but from the bottom the town was all but invisible. The gorge seemed to take no notice of them, as if it were more of a passive acquiescent then a conquered prisoner, not caring one way or the other what went on above it, waiting patiently as only nature with its boundless energy can.
We walked out of the city into the surrounding hills and were impressed by the view of the mountains to one side and the valleys with other little villages to our other side. As we looked on at these seemingly quaint little places we thought about how different they really were than any other place in spain or anywhere else. Inside those quaint houses they were probabl watching dubbed american tv, while their kids played the newest playstation games. They probably new as much about what was going on around the world from the news as an new yorker or businessman in tokyo. It made me look at the villages differently, part of their innocence and naivety was gone. Maybe that is the price of being connected to the world around you, a little bit of your individuality, your naivety, is released as well. Still I wonder if the miss the simplicity of ignorance. Not knowing about wars in africa or terrorism in the north of spain. I just don't know. I've never known a world without those things.
Sorry again for m long absence, i've been a bit swamped at school lately and have been trying to figure out some traveling, of which there will be much very soon. By the way I do have new glasses and a cell phone here (thanks mom for reminding me I hadn't mentioned that yet) and they are both working pretty well especially considering how inexpensive they were. This weekend I'm planning on going to madrid, which is apparently the capital of this place and will have lots of museums and culture and other boring stuff that I'm supposed to experience (just kidding, I love culture, ask anyone!) I also have to begin a ten page paper in spanish about theater in modern spain which wouldn't be too bad if I was familiar with theater in spain and I spoke spanish, but both of those are really not the case so it might be a grueling couple of weeks. A special thanks as always to me Grandma who sends me kind emails and tells me nice things. I love you more than kittens, and I love kittens a bunch, I hope you are well and that the weather is starting to normalize a little bit more. Much love to all and I will write again soon. Pinky promise. My next entry will either be about madrid, or Jerez the birthplace of sherry. I guess you'll just have to wait and see. Ta ta for now.