I was sitting in the midst of half a dozen conversations, none of them in English. I was immersed in the life of the town, a life to which I had only the most limited access. There was more than a little self-congratulation in this, in having chosen a place that was not a resort, and in resisting the fantasy that some sort of special relationship was being formed. I was nothing to these people; almost nothing. I listened but understood nothing that was being said around me. It was unavailable to me, but I was finding it pleasurable to move upon the surface, I noted.
