BENARRABÁ LOVES YOU – A RURAL COLIVING STORY OF BELONGING

As I mentioned in The Art of Celebrating, required reading before this post, my birthday was the day after the Benarrabá Fair, one of the biggest days in the village and one that helps you get to know the place from the inside.

What happens when the fair ends?

The world stops and everyone wants to rest. Plus, you feel strange because you’ve lost that new routine you didn’t know you needed—going out every day to socialise and dance at the fair (maybe San Cucufato brought you something you didn’t know you needed?).

So, setting aside the tiredness, you’re left with a small sense of emptiness, missing dancing a pasodoble, having Mrs. Agustina tell you how handsome you look, or eating a baked potato.

I wanted to celebrate my birthday on the exact date, September 30th, but destiny (or in this case, the village) had other plans. After the fair, everyone needs to rest, the bars and businesses are closed, people are recovering, and it’s as if the village pauses for a moment.

And I also wanted to take advantage of this day to celebrate my birthday by doing a book presentation. So, thank goodness I listened to the village elders and decided to postpone the event.

Plus, there was a small setback.

The wild potro of Rooral

A setback for those who don’t know me, because I knew something like this would happen to me. As the fair was ending, in one of the last moments before the final fireworks, it was probably already one of the last songs… but it arrived.

La potra salvaje started playing. And, I hadn’t told you this: if it plays after sunset, I turn into a wild potro (we’d already confirmed this during Leti’s birthday celebration). In this case, the wild stallion decided to dance while shoving with two of his local friends, Juan Carlos and Francisco.

I haven’t told you about Francisco, but he’s possibly the strongest man in the pueblo. So, you read that right: shoving and the strongest man in the village.

Result: I almost broke a rib. And a birthday under the effects of painkillers.

Digital nomads and locals celebrating together at Benarrabá Fair in southern Spain

How Benarrabá inspired a digital nomad

Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I’m shy by nature. But as I told you, when I arrived in Benarrabá and met the other Rooral colivers, I felt at home from minute one. So much so that I mentioned I had written a book and some people told me they wanted to know more.

I had been toying with the idea of doing a second presentation online, but why not in person with this wonderful group of people I had just met? So I started thinking that on my birthday I would become the protagonist and give a small speech.

But of course, after meeting more than half the village during the Benarrabá Fair, I realised it didn’t make sense to share this only with my rural experience companions, but also with the whole village.

The result: without realising it or having planned it, I found myself planning a book presentation for the entire village.

I suppose that’s the magic of the Rooral experience: you can build your own story from the village.

Synergies with other colivers

Once the presentation became a village-wide event, I had no choice but to get to work.

I went to Tere’s bar to tell her I wanted to give a small speech in her bar and take the opportunity to reserve a table for dinner with the rest of my companions. So I already had a date, time, and place.

Once I had all this, it was time to tell the village.

The truth is I consider myself good at written communication but not so much at visual communication (one must recognise their weaknesses).

Time to take advantage of one of the things this experience offers: connecting with other amazing professionals who also love pueblo life. In this case, I asked Kristel for help, a Dutch designer who prepared an amazing poster that I loved.

The final plan

On Saturday, October 4th at 8 PM at Tere’s bar, the second presentation of the book Mi madre no me quiere (“My Mother Doesn’t Love Me”) would take place.

I had already put up posters at Andreita’s Store, at the coworking space, at the Town Hall, and at Tere’s bar itself. Also, I had already done networking on Monday at the fair and during the week I made sure to remind people during my walks through the village.

Anna, our community lead, had also made sure to highlight that event in Rooral’s weekly calendar during the family meeting.

The big day

For me, all this started a few days earlier. Joking at the fair, I told the mayor I was going to start the speech by saying: “Today I’ve come to talk about my book…” (spoiler: I did).

I think Silvestre was somewhat concerned, and that, combined with the fact that he wouldn’t be able to be there on Saturday, led him to offer to meet a few days earlier because he wanted to read the speech. And so we did—we met one afternoon at the store (because in this village the mayor is equally a mayor, a shopkeeper, or a bartender) and he read it.

He didn’t say much to me at that moment, but there was one gesture that said it all: the day before the presentation, I received a WhatsApp message from him wishing me good luck and writing in capital letters: BENARRABÁ LOVES YOU.

I got very emotional. I’ve spent my whole life begging for my mother’s love, and these people I just met barely a few weeks ago are already telling me they love me. The magic of Benarrabá, I suppose. I’ve already fallen under the spell.

The big day arrived. I was going to do my first great emotional unveiling before the village. People started arriving and, before I could realise it, the bar had filled up.

Me, still unable to get the microphone working, and people inside wondering when everything would start. 

So last-minute change, better to do it inside. 

We move everything, set up again and… the microphone starts making an annoying noise that doesn’t help at all. 

So microphone out.

In the end, the speech went forward. I had to stop a couple of times due to excess emotion: when mentioning again the words that broke my heart or when remembering my late grandmother.

In those moments I saw the audience engaged, listening attentively, feeling what I felt, looking at me with admiration, with sadness… but applauding me in those small “falls” so I could continue forward.

At some moments I saw the faces of some people, whom I already love, moved by my story, and I swear I just wanted to stop the speech and go hug them. In the end, I managed to finish the speech and I felt many ways, but I suppose I can summarise it all as follows: David finally dared to be David.

And David felt comfortable sharing David’s story.

And then my moment of glory receiving love from the village, signing books, and celebrating my birthday with those who have been my new family for the last month. I loved seeing how sharing my story, such a hard story that I’ve been ashamed of for so long turned out to be inspiring for other people.

Without a doubt, this moment in Benarrabá will appear in the movie of my life. Thanks to Rooral for making it possible.

Lessons from organising an event in a rural coliving

● Start thinking that if something can go wrong, it will go wrong. But with the best attitude, it can be resolved. In my case, about 10 minutes before the scheduled time, the bar owners almost made the decision not to open (I would have liked to see my face from the outside).

● If you organise something on a Saturday, keep in mind that it has to be after mass, from 8:15 PM onwards.

● The people at the Benarrabá Town Hall are wonderful and will do everything possible to help you.

● The same applies to the Rooral team—it’s incredible the relationships that can be built in such a short time.

● First, the event was going to take place outside, but seeing that everyone stayed inside we had to change the entire setup.

● Don’t forget to test the microphones beforehand—in the end I had to give a speech at full voice (although I think that gave it a lot of naturalness).

● You can count on Juan as master of ceremonies, even though in this case he had to improvise at the last minute.

● Open yourself to being loved by Benarrabá.

● If you do an event of this type, prepare to become a public celebrity in the village.

What happened after?

Well, now I can say I’ve become a public figure in the village and I understand one of the first things Juan told us when we arrived: when you’ve arranged to meet someone, leave 20 or 30 minutes early because you’ll be late.

At first I laughed, but now I understand it perfectly.

And when a village loves you, there’s no turning back.

If you’ve ever dreamt of blending your work and life within a real Andalusian community, maybe it’s time to come and collaborate with other colivers.