I'm On my way to pick Lila up from school but don't have to be there for another 30 minutes.
Let's take a walk.
Whenever I first arrive in a place, I find it's easy to overlook much of what's there. There's so much to assimilate that it's overwhelming. Soon enough, the city begins to open up to you, and you see, hear and feel so much more.
Can someone explain why there are suddenly hundreds of red Salteno cabs jamming the street and honking? In this town, where I have yet to see a traffic jam of any sort, suddenly, this? Perhaps it's a parade or protest. Like yesterday, when hundreds of people marched around the Plaza de Julio, the central plaza of Salta, carrying signs, banging drums and occasionally blowing off loud pop guns. The plaza is surrounded by cafes with Wifi, restaurants, a beautiful cathedral as well as the symphony, Andean museum and a modern art museum.
carry on to see the fruit vendors pushing their carts around the cars. One offers me a pear.
There's the Andean cooking school that specializes in dishes made with llama. Yes, llama, the animal. There's the santeria store. The motorcycle dealership. A whole row of places for haircuts. Why would they have 10 or so all on the same few blocks? Or is it just very American thinking to believe you'll have better business if you don't have as much competition?
Each time I walk these streets, I see more and more. An art store where you can paint and fire your own pottery. Camping supplies. The butcher and hardware store.
At what point, though, does the street become too usual to notice anymore? Does the walk become just the road between Point A and Point B? Is that when it's time to go somewhere new? Or perhaps, there's more of a need to refocus?
Ah, I have arrived.
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