21: a Basque Mass

I still had a few minutes until the mass would begin, so I took the time to pray for a bit. Then a priest went to the front and started talking in Basque. The sparse congregation responded. The priest said something else, and again the congregation knew what to say. The talking was fast, and they were almost interrupting each other.

I was a little disappointed. I could not understand Basque, and I wasn't familiar enough with this liturgy to follow it in my mind. The speaking was mechanical, not like anyone meant it so much as like they were trying to get through it as fast as possible. And even though we were in a monastery, there were no monks anywhere to be seen.

I stayed and observed for a while, but then I got tired and restless. I took my pack and snuck outside. I went to the beach, spread out my trench coat, and lay down to rest. I was hoping to be able to fall asleep early tonight, but I lay there on the beach for several hours, taking turns trying to sleep and trying to think about something. There were dark clouds gathering, and the sea-wind was getting cold. Great, I thought. Get some sleep before it rains.