Because I'm currently, inexplicably making a butt-load of money (okay, butt-load is a relative term. I'm currently, inexplicably making a butt-load of money for a hobo like me), I decided to spend yesterday afternoon in San Juan. Not to purchase a divine platter of orgasmic cheeses at Cafe El Artesano (I'm not making that much money, sheesh), but to buy a much needed poncho. Because I love all The Forest volunteers and I don't much like adventuring alone these days, I invited Anna and Kayla to join in on the poncho buying fun.
The last time I journeyed to San Juan, the boatmen charged Nacho and me fifteen Q each for the ten minute ride. Which felt a little ridiculous, but I don't like confrontation... so I didn't confront. This time, they charged us each ten Q. Which felt better, but still a little ridiculous.
"It should be five Q," Kayla, the queen of confrontation, tried to hand over a five Q note and was rejected.
"No, diez," the boatman shook his head.
Another passenger on our boat had lived in San Juan for about a year, and she graciously offered to lead us past the touristic drag and to a textile cooperative in town.
"The prices here are fair," she explained. "And they'll give you a free tour, if you want."
"Por que no?" always-game-for-everything-Kayla immediately responded.
So we did the free tour. In Spanish. Of which I understood a dismally small amount. But Kayla and Anna translated for me every now and then, and I did my best to focus, and you know, actually try to learn Spanish.
If I had to pick one resolution for 2018, it would be to learn Spanish.
Fortunately, I don't have to pick one resolution. But still. If I had to pick one... it would be Spanish.
Which means I should probably prioritize it more nowishly.
The woman giving us the tour pointed to a plant in between two different colors of yarn, explaining something in Spanish too complex for this monolingual lady to understand.
"She said that the one on the left was dyed during the full moon, and the one on the right dyed after the full moon," Kayla translated for me.
"Using the same plant?" I asked, flabbergasted.
"Yes, the same plant."
"It's amazing how the moon affects everything," Anna beamed (Anna is always beaming). "Even plants!"
The next woman demonstrated how to position the yarn in order to create a scarf. At least, I believe that's what she was demonstrating.
And the final lady explained the weaving process itself.
Yup. Spanish. Must be more of a priority. It would be so lovely to know exactly what they're saying. Imagine that.
"This one is calling to me!" Anna beamed at a gorgeous maroon poncho.
Kayla patiently wandered outside with her book while Anna and I tried on approximately seventeen thousand ponchos. Before buying the first ones we tried on. Because we're very efficient ladies.
We paid for our garments and joined Kayla outside. Then we continued walking towards the top of the hill, where we found a Christmas tree. Which Kayla rushed over to and showered with affection. As one does to all things Christmas.
Before boarding the boat back to San Marcos, we popped into El Gato Perdido for cake, coffee, and wine.
If I didn't already have a blog called "Gallivanting Grasshopper," I think I would create a blog called, "El Gato Perdido."
Back in San Marcos, we walked over to the pier of Del Lago. Whilst strolling down the tuk-tuk trafficked streets, we crossed paths with un gato perdido. Maybe even EL gato perdido (no way to be sure).
It took about seven hippies to rescue el gato perdido from the tree branch (the tree branch didn't survive the seven hippies).
At Del Lago, I happily drank a beer on the pier and enjoyed the feeling of a full day off.
All this work has been so welcome, but it's been consuming. I needed this day to get away. To buy something with this butt-load of money I'm earning. Goodness, I cuddled up inside my red striped poncho, this was such a satisfying purchase. A little more than one painting bought me a poncho that will keep me warm on the lake this winter.
Makes me feel so... free. To have desirable skills that can travel with me. Skills which allow me to support myself as I float from place to place.
"What are you going to do when you run out of paints?" Anna asked the other day.
"I don't know," I shook my head in bewilderment. "I'm getting kind of worried about it."
"Something will happen," Anna beamed at me. "It will work out."
"I know. If I'm supposed to keep painting, I'll find a way to get more paints. More paper. Postal service or no postal service."
No comments:
Post a Comment