more memories from late 2008:
the buildings, like the people, prefer the close company of others. they stand in long lines, pressed together for blocks and practically lean across the narrow roads (as if to politely debate some point with the line of buildings across from them.) fronts of apartment buildings and single family homes mingle with shopfronts....farmacia, locutorio, peliculas... from the windows of 2nd and 3rd floor flats, sounds floats down. an argument: a woman's voice running loud and fast at someone unseen, opera: an italian tenor adding a soundtrack to this street named for a spanish tenor. on the thin sidewalks, men and women of all ages navigate past each other, past parked cars and motorbikes. some are smoking, some laughing, some walking slowly with the aid of a friend or grandchild's arm. many are carrying long, blond batons of bread under their arms... benign, delicious swords.
this is my neighborhood, and every day it delivers some new sensual delight. Catalan is everywhere....on the lips of the capped men entering the bakery, "¡Bon Dia!" and on the blue and white Xmas lights that hang across the street and wish everyone "Bones Festes" (which i initially read as "Bones Testes").