jueves, 6 de marzo de 2008

The Trapeze Swinger

Here I sit on the grass with 12 minutes left of battery in the sun.
Behind an old church that is now a public library and I take in the joy of any semi-resident in a beautiful town; that of having discovered yet another gorgeous piece of it. There's a large spanish family some meters away, lunching or just enjoying the weather like I do, having taken a day off, their children at school maybe and a day off them too. As for me, I do what I always do when I get frustrated at something: I treat myself to something nice. And so, when this morning, after having commuted to the other side of town, and being directed back and forth to a museum that wasn't there, I decided that instead of going home and bitch about it, I'd treat myself to something nice. So I took one last metro to the Fnac, took out the lonely planet guides of Bolivia and Peru off the shelves, and sat down at the little café inside, where for the price of a coke, I sat down undistrubed for 2 hours, as I let my mind wander over river rafting options in the north and hamac swinging on any of Lake Titticaca's islands, and maybe, if time allows for it, a quick detour by Sucre's colonial architecture. Michael Franti singing in my ears, I shut myself off of Fnac's poor choice for Nickleback's latest album. Two hours later, I closed both guides, with bus prices and potential day trips scribbled on a tram ticket I still had from Antwerp in my wallet. The price of a single lonely planet, combined with my thirst to consume something, made me instead turn to the helpdesk to inquire about odering Michelin Maps of say... Bolivia? They couldn't, to my surprise, but directed me to Patagonia, a travel shop I'll surely visit again, for it was closing time. But never mind, because, having ventured in a small side street of a peculiar neighbourhood I had never seen before, I stumbled unto this patch of garden behind the old church turned library surrounded by little grown palm trees and medieval pillars. The smell of italian bakery turned my attention to a little pizzeria that sold me one for 3 euro's. I had it to go for the grass was awaiting. And the sun. And a pizza thin like crisp papyrus but soft like clouds, with fresh herbs and flour adhering to your fingertips, I took satisfaction in having discovered a little kiosk where the price per gram of candy still was under a euro and their drinks too. Where students sat down on sunny terraces and the joke of the day was told around. Dogs run free here and my belly is full. I'll take another minute or two of sun in before heading back to uni, where I agreed to meet with Tatiana from Argentina, and we'll continue our conversation about polyamorosity and long distance. But for just one minute more, I'll linger my look around as I imagine a picnic scenario with my girlfriend, coming here soon. I snap one more picture with my webcam and then I'll go.

Tal Benisty