Thursday, June 10th, 2010
Today started out like any other day. Yesterday was our first day sin sol. The overcast set the mood for me. I am a Libra and they say we are affected by the weather or our mood affects the weather, no me importa. I guess I speak for myself because taking on the voice of all Libras across the world is too much of a task for me.
My day, to say the least, was very uneventful. I did absolutely nothing. I was supposed to study for our first test tomorrow, but I thought a siesta to be more important. After waking up, I walked to the door of my room and hunger met me there. I decided to go to the mercado to buy some soap for the shower and a chocolate treat for my hunger. I was at the counter, checking out, and the lady behind the register made small talk with me. After my items were scanned and ready to be put in a bag she asked me, “Quieres una bolsa?” Now I am not completely fluent, but in all the Spanish classes I have had in my life (let me say it is many) I was always taught that bolsa is a woman’s purse. I immediately responded, “No…” It took me a few hours and a conversation with Tia to find out that a bolsa is also a bag. A bag for groceries, duh! My anger towards the lady was relieved considering I had to carry both of my purchased objects by hand… since it was in fact my fault, and that I denied her perfectly good offer to give me a bag to put them in. Que lastima.
With the exception of that, the highlight of my day came much later. Laura and I decided to get some ice cream. Yes, this was my second ice cream experience. The waffle cones are so fresh here. Cold Stone and Marble Slab just don’t compare. We had an outstanding talk just about everything: her boyfriend, my ex-girlfriend, cats & dogs, college life, Palma, ice cream, perfumes, and life in general. She had hinted that she felt uncomfortable walking the streets of Palma alone at night, so I decided to walk her back. As we started the 20-minute walk to be, we talked more about the city and what comes along with city life whether that was her experiences with Philadelphia or my endeavors in NYC. As we turned the corner to get on her street, a familiar smell struck me, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. I bid my adieu and left her casa, only to return to that smell again. I had time to investigate. Honey suckles. Honey suckles. Honey suckles. Sub-consciously I knew it was them all along. A honey suckle is a tree that has stringy flowers that are very pungent in scent. You can pick one off and pinch the bottom of it to draw down the piston, through the flower’s tube and out comes a drop, and I mean only a drop, of sweet nectar. As a child I would beg mother to take me to the park, a park that I only associate with honey suckles. I believe I called it “Honey Suckle Park”. It was there my love for the plant began and surprisingly has still stuck with me to this day.
It’s amazing how this experience in Palma pulls on both ends of the string of life. I feel like such an adult, living in Palma without my parents, meeting people I have never known, and doing things impulsively. Yet, a simple plant reminds me of another time when innocence was all I knew, school only meant playtime with friends, and honey suckles were the highlight of my month. Que interesante.