Guanajuato Day 2 1/2
Guanajuato Day 2 ½
After returning to my casita for a feeble half a beer and as much of a piece of bread as I had missed dinner I head out into the night in search of an internet café. The central jardin is filled with people out and about, musicians and a light drizzle. I post my blog and then re-join the human flux and flow of a Saturday night. There are as many nightclubs as front doors it seems; they are all upstairs and their 70’s music wafts down from balconies to compete with the live mariachi music below. The streets are filled with people of all ages but who somehow look young, the grandma wrapped in a poncho, the toddler being carried in her father’s arms wrapped in a pink fluffly blanket, th emiddle aged couple with arms around each other’s waists. I find a restaurant who’s still serving at midnight and have a glass of wine, listen to more minstrels and watch lovers in the table next to me. Suddenly sleepy and hungry I finish up and head back, stop at a corn stand and order a cob with chile y limon. The sweet looking young man next to me smiles and tells the woman not to make it too piquante; I must look that much the extranjera. But I return the smile and now notice a group of men all looking at me. They are strong, jet black haired with smooth faces and square shoulders. I wonder if I look that out of place this late at night or if they just enjoy the sight of a single gringa ordering a local food. I smile at them all as I head down the street and pass another group of men out side a club, one of whom calls out buena apetit as I pass, noshing on my snack. I smile and wave my cob at them and wonder if they know I could be old enough to be their mother.
I let myself in quietly to the house and inadvertently come upon a young housemate, just engaged, having phone sex with her fiance in the living room of the first floor. How wonderful is telecommunications, I think, as I go upstairs to my little room. The house feels like sorority central for all the young women, mostly in or just out of college, fresh faced and eager to learn. I enjoy our meals together, despite their ignoring the sign which admonishes us to all speak Spanish at these times. Most are nurses or teachers who work with Latino populations back in the states; one couple, retired, is here just for fun.
As I prepare for bed the voices of people in the living room across the light shaft from the kitchen waft through the window and I am reminded of summer in NYC, where it’s hard to ever find quiet with all of us humanity squished in together. It’s wonderful to be amongst so many vibrant spirits.
After returning to my casita for a feeble half a beer and as much of a piece of bread as I had missed dinner I head out into the night in search of an internet café. The central jardin is filled with people out and about, musicians and a light drizzle. I post my blog and then re-join the human flux and flow of a Saturday night. There are as many nightclubs as front doors it seems; they are all upstairs and their 70’s music wafts down from balconies to compete with the live mariachi music below. The streets are filled with people of all ages but who somehow look young, the grandma wrapped in a poncho, the toddler being carried in her father’s arms wrapped in a pink fluffly blanket, th emiddle aged couple with arms around each other’s waists. I find a restaurant who’s still serving at midnight and have a glass of wine, listen to more minstrels and watch lovers in the table next to me. Suddenly sleepy and hungry I finish up and head back, stop at a corn stand and order a cob with chile y limon. The sweet looking young man next to me smiles and tells the woman not to make it too piquante; I must look that much the extranjera. But I return the smile and now notice a group of men all looking at me. They are strong, jet black haired with smooth faces and square shoulders. I wonder if I look that out of place this late at night or if they just enjoy the sight of a single gringa ordering a local food. I smile at them all as I head down the street and pass another group of men out side a club, one of whom calls out buena apetit as I pass, noshing on my snack. I smile and wave my cob at them and wonder if they know I could be old enough to be their mother.
I let myself in quietly to the house and inadvertently come upon a young housemate, just engaged, having phone sex with her fiance in the living room of the first floor. How wonderful is telecommunications, I think, as I go upstairs to my little room. The house feels like sorority central for all the young women, mostly in or just out of college, fresh faced and eager to learn. I enjoy our meals together, despite their ignoring the sign which admonishes us to all speak Spanish at these times. Most are nurses or teachers who work with Latino populations back in the states; one couple, retired, is here just for fun.
As I prepare for bed the voices of people in the living room across the light shaft from the kitchen waft through the window and I am reminded of summer in NYC, where it’s hard to ever find quiet with all of us humanity squished in together. It’s wonderful to be amongst so many vibrant spirits.
posted by Barbery at 9:54 AM
1 Comments:
Looks nice! Awesome content. Good job guys.
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