Rachel, Tatjana, and Tin are in Spain for two months, and the bayou feels lonely without them. Also, since they’ve been traveling, Rachel hasn’t blogged in a couple of days, and because I rely on her blog for inspiration I’ve really missed it.
I mean, the kid is scary-talented, and not just because his godfather is Evan Christopher. This child is three. As in years old. And last year, when he was two, I was hanging out with him and Rachel at Jazzfest’s Congo Square and witnessed something that still makes me shake my head: Tin with his drumsticks, perfectly keeping the beat with the band–till he lost the beat, then paused, listened, and picked up the beat again–perfectly. Did I mention he was two?
This is actually Tin’s second trip to Spain. He was there last summer, too, which reminds me that I spent my entire second year in Spain. My father–like most of my family, a professor–had won a Fullbright scholarship to teach at the University of Salamanca, and since my mom went with him of course I did too. According to family lore, I was silent before my year in Spain, and came back to the States speaking only Spanish–to the delight of my grandmother, whom I allegedly corrected whenever she used the English word for anything I had learned to identify in Spanish. Until she died when I was 30, she was still telling the story of my two-year-old scold insisting she say la aceituna instead of olive.
Of course since Tatjana is fluent, Tin already speaks Spanish, not to mention English and Croatian. However you measure it, this little boy is exceptional. His parents encourage his innate talents by enrolling him at the Walforf school, supplying him with any musical instrument toward which he displays even a passing proclivity, and otherwise nurturing his clearly abundant creativity.
I’m pretty certain the same-sex marriage haters–the ones who spout the seemingly benign party-line catch-phrase “Every child should have the benefit of a mother AND a father”–will never end up on my blog, but if any of them did, I’d just say this: click on the YouTube video of Tin jamming with the Roma band and tell me: What, exactly, is this child missing?
Oh, and by the way: Despite being raised in a “traditional,” heterosexual-marriage family, I can no longer speak a word of Spanish that I don’t have to look up. Including la aceituna.
Photo credit Marc Pagani