Slice of Life

I wrote this while at a cafe this afternoon. I've left the pauses where I apparently felt they went at the time. This is a glimpse into my mind. There are no incredible revelations or life-changing pieces of advice. Just simple observation.

The air is crisp. The trees show their true colors, which are reflected in the still waters of the canal. In the canals I can also see the blue of the sky with wisps of cloud strewn about. I feel the stones under my feet and the slight drip of my nose lets me know that it is fall.

My thoughts are so loud I fear those around me can hear them. Perhaps their minds are feeding into them. As I sit, my gaze is fixed and I am entranced. Occasionally the clink of a glass or an unexpected laugh brings me back to the table. I watch the curly redhead across the street as she gets her hair cut. The stylist twists the locks as she prepares to cut. I am reminded of my poor posture when my back begins to ache from my current position. My eyes are drawn to the cafe decor. Black and white striped walls are interrupted by large, colorful paintings from a local artist. I wonder if they will ever sell. I take a sip of the tea the shop owner helped me pick out and smell the berries as its warmth reaches my tongue. It is followed by a bite of cannebullar - the best I've tried in the city so far. The dough is a bit crispy on the outside, but moist. The cinnamon flavor is fresh and the pearl sugar atop melts in your mouth.

The two girls who were sitting in the Victorian velvet brocade chairs put on their coats and both look at me again, trying to be discreet. My toes feel the burst of cold wind as they walk through the door and they take one more look in my direction before strolling off laughing. Only my imagination will know what is so amusing about my appearance. A young couple walks by - each of their two children carrying a mylar balloon with unnamed cartoon characters.

Another bite of canelbullar. The redhead reads a magazine and the stylist takes a bite of a chocolate bar while the hair is drying. I admire the construction of the cafe's stools- designed for comfort. My mind wanders to all the dogs I passed in the morning's Oktobermarket. Each had such a distinct look and personality that barking was almost unnecessary, because you could already tell what they were thinking.

A woman walks in whose green brocade jacket exactly matches the pattern of the chairs. I wonder if she ever noticed. The scent of the next table's cheese dip wafts over with the shutting of the door. Looking out the window, I catch in the reflection of the blue van parked outside a little girl rolling about on the sidewalk laughing. She rolls far enough that I can see her plainly and she continues to laugh as her blonde braids peek out from beneath her knit grey cap. Mom helps her up as she walks by and the family continues on their Saturday walk.

A girl walks by with a mylar pony balloon attached to a small suitcase. She looks back in admiration and concentration so as not to lose control of the suitcase. Mom smiles and leads on. She reminds me of myself as I rolled my large suitcase through these same streets just two days ago. There was no balloon, but perhaps there should have been.

I stir my tea and the sugar from the bottom swirls around with the remaining tea leaves and I take a sip of the tea which is now slightly cold and slightly too sweet. I think of the coffee I was invited to share with a bible study group this morning when I showed up unannounced at a local church. I tried to mask the flavor with cream and sugar, but was unsuccessful in my attempt. I still do not care for the taste of coffee. It was the first time in this country that tea was not also offered. The tea light on my table is no longer flickering in its black glass cup.

I notice the black wall behind me is covered with two huge canvases. One is the Mona Lisa. The other is a picture of cows. The blonde couple on the couch embraces and the young man gently kisses his girlfriend's forehead. The server arrives with their food and she yawns unceremoniously.

A family walks in and eyes my table upon realizing they are left with only high tables at which they can sit. The clouds shift deepening the contrast between light and shadow. I guess the time is 3:00, but a look at my phone shows me I am ahead half an hour. The mother of the family asks something in Swedish and I am forced to reveal I am a foreigner here. She asks again if she may use one of the chairs at my table to store her things. I nod emphatically. I sip the last of my tea and take the final bite of canelbullar, making sure to get every last bit of pearl sugar. I use my finger to pick up the remaining three pearls. As if on cue, my phone rings. My face flushes wondering how long the call will take and whether I should take it outside for not. I try to answer as inconspicuously as possible and am relieved to hang up a few minutes later. Work.

I let the last few drops of tea run into my mouth and use my finger to remove a rogue tea leaf from my front teeth. With that, there is no further excuse to stay. The cafe is becoming more crowded as people come in for a fika. I leave my seat and bundle up before walking out into the brisk air again.

Greetings from Sweden,
~Molly

Buenas noches

Today was one of those days that makes everything worthwhile - and then some. After dropping Celi off at the airport I met my host family for lunch at my host abuela's house. We talked a bit and then went to the church to pass out information about being a host family for any people interested. I have to say that having light hair has its advantages here... after about 10 minutes everyone on the block had seen me and smiled at me as I passed by. Another advantage is that they are a little taken aback when I start speaking Spanish. I have yet to encounter a person for the first time who hasn't commented on my Spanish - and it almost always follows "where are you from?"

After handing out fliers I headed home for some quality internet time. I listened to some music and sang a bit working on a project that, if it comes to fruition, I will share. I decided to go explore and try to find a good place to eat for dinner, so I headed off to the Centro Historico. Centro Historico never ceases to amaze me. Every time I visit my brain goes into camera mode to take mental pictures of everything I pass.

This evening was even more spectacular. There is a special exhibition of frogs going on right now where different artists have made artistic interpretations of frogs. It was an unexpected sight... I knew they were in town but did not realize they were out in the public squares. After walking about a bit I settled into a cozy creperie. There was a table right by the entrance facing out to the square with just one seat facing the outdoors. It had my name written on it. I went in and ordered a panini and a chai tea frappe. The panini was good, but the frappe was delicious. I sat and took in the happenings of the square as I let my mind drift off. (Don't worry, I will get a crepe the next time I go, but this time there just wasn't enough room - as I only finished half of my panini). I took the other half of my panini and headed back to the car.

This was my first time driving into the Centro, so I decided to stick with the more familiar roads until I knew where I was exactly. I stuck to the small stone roads and was noticing the traffic moving very slowly. The radio was playing and I decided it was time to mute it and open the windows to take in the bustle of Sunday night in the town squares. I looked to my left and there was a beautiful cathedral. To my right, there was a large fountain and families spread throughout the square enjoying the beautiful evening air. As if on cue, mariachi music came over the square. All of a sudden, the fountain changed. It was synchronized to the music! Different fountains shot into the air in time with the music. Luckily, the stoplight was generous and gave me a few minutes to watch in awe. It reminded me of that perfect night in Rome.

I took a guess as to which way to go once I got out to the big roads and found myself right where I wanted to be. As the car pulled into the development I followed the loop around to our house making sure to stop where we can see the whole city. Celi and I call it the "Victory lap." After a day of hard work, we come home and we can either take the short loop or the Victory lap. We usually choose the Victory lap because it's the perfect end to a bad day as well as a great day. The sun had set, but the sky was still filled with color. The mountains were silhouettes against the pink sky which faded to a blue grey around the edges of the city. The city lights twinkled magnificently as I rounded the corner to my host family's house.

With that, I leave you. Until next time,
~Molly

Te quiero Querétaro

Querétaro, Querétaro – the capital of the state. The middle of México, the middle of summer; without a beach nearby it would be easy to think I was going to die of heat exhaustion. Luckily, that is not the case! The weather here in Querétaro has been absolutely beautiful. In the mornings, the chill is enough to cause one to layer. In the afternoon the sun gets bright, but what is summer without some warmth? By the time the sun sets over the mountains, however, the cool breeze blows in again.

I’ve been here now for one week and so far I love this city. The historic downtown is straight out of a photographer’s dream and it makes me wish my own camera was better at capturing the city’s magic. Everything downtown is within walking distance. There is a mix of traditional food vendors and historical churches alongside modern cafés and clothing shops. Best of all, in all the public squares they have free wireless internet! It’s as if someone stole my dreams and made them into a city.

Our host family lives on a hill in the south of the city. From here we can see the entire city. It was not until this morning, however that we discovered there is a pyramid in the city. How we managed to miss it, I am not sure, but now that we know it’s there we’ll make sure to explore. We’re living in a family with five kids. Our host dad is Mexican and our host mom Hungarian. The kids range in age from two months to eleven years. They all speak Spanish and Hungarian and those over eight years also speak English. It’s quite impressive to see them switch languages based on who they are talking to. English is their weakest language, so host dad asks me to speak only English to them. I’m working on that, as sometimes it’s hard when you speak the language they prefer as well.

Tomorrow I’ll be returning to San Luis Potosí . This will be my second time there in just over a week. I will once again get to visit my delightful host family there. When I arrived last week – the first time in over a year – I was greeted with handmade signs welcoming me home and saying how much they missed me. It was really sweet.
I guess that’s all for now.

Loving Querétaro,
~Molly