I have often told you that I come from a region known as the Basque country (or Navarre as some of you may call it). This is true. However, the stories I have told you of my family and my reasons for leaving, are not.

All the members of my family (my father, my seven brothers, and my two sisters) are very talented musicians, except for my mother and I. My family would travel all around the Navarre region performing in the street, or off the back of our wagon. Sometimes, they would even play in the courts of the nobilty, they were much better than Job.

When they played in public, I had many opportunities to practice my hand at pick-pocketing. The music would capture the crowds attention and I would nimbly dig out the coins from their hiding. In this way, I could also contribute to my family's income.

However, I was never permitted to accompany them when they performed in the opulent homes of nobles. My brothers and sisters would come back and enchant me with stories about the riches to be found in such homes and the finery on these wealthy people. The more I heard, the more I wanted to see and touch these fine things myself.

In my twelfth year, my father decided it was time to travel to the coastal cities and towns of the Biscay. These cities and towns seemed to attract more people from all callings: merchants, soldiers, seafaring traders and , of course, more entertainers as well. So with rival performers taking away our audience, our resouces started to wear thin. The situation became so desparate that even my brothers' wives were forced to relinquish some of the coins they would wear in their headpieces.

Finally, as the youngest and least talented of his children, my father was forced to sell me into the service of a ship's captain, just to keep our family fed. Although I dared not protest before my father, I had no intention's of living amongst the filthy and immoral outsiders. While on board the ship I spyed, in the captain's quarters, a stash of coins and beautifully colored stones (enough to decorate my mother, sisters, and even my brothers' wives). Once the sun had dipped beyond the horizon, I filled my sash with some of the coins and stones and snuk off the ship as quickly and quietly as possible. Hours later when I found the family caravan, I could see my mother crying. When I stepped out of the shadows, my father gasped as though I was a phantom. Overjoyed by my return, my father vowed never again to give up one of his children to an outsider. When I showed him the booty I had brought back with me, he was as proud of me as he was of my talented siblings.

Then, by a stroke of genius, I had come up with a plan. My father could sell me to ships' captains, thereby I would gain access to the ship and the captain's quarters and sneak off the ship late that eveing with a handful (or two) of coins and jewels. It was a brillant plan and it worked in each city we tried.

UNTIL . . . . . .