My short-lived Happiness in a tale
May 2nd: In retrospect...
For a month I went missing. I was missing because I was happy - why? The sunshine. And the person who's smile and presence replaced the sun. My freedom to walk arm and arm at the market. We cross the bridge to the 'working-man's market'. Suddenly you are no longer in Holland as you imagine it. Here, we are in the South. The wild cries of prices for fresh produce, enticing colours, scents and sounds - its like a Turkish bazaar. But this is the market in Rotterdam. Functional crap from China everywhere interspersed with fresh ginger root, peppers from Surinam, Turkish spinach, bananas and plantains, fish everywhere. The sea is here! Dead of course, like a museum, but no one sees it that way. Its just food.
But I wonder where these fish swam. Somewhere far out in the deep, dark abyss of the ocean. The Atlantic? So cold...dark and lonely, except for the groups, the communities of fish. This is their world, their normality, taken away, hauled from their home, violently, miles and miles away, onto the stall where I now glance at their lifeless bodies. Mouths gaping, eyes wide and expressionless, on ice. Where were they swimming not long ago?
We move on, arm in arm and Im distracted by my hapiness, despite the cold, the neverending grey skies, the alienation and loneliness and confusion about my whereabouts.
To be in a foreign country, in an 'exotic' market with a new friend I happen to be enamoured by. I cant explain why. Arm in arm, a new acceptance of closeness not normally allowed back home without complicated implications. Here it is not complicated. Just a new friend to lean on because I am lonely and cold and he is warm. Here I stroll on the other side of the bridge, free and happy. Soaking up sights and smells and sounds, all foreign to me and different and colourful.
A seller remembers me from the tourist's market. Smiles cross my face, sometimes not. Sometimes its eye contact only and I try to burn my stare into someone, usually I cant hold a gaze very long without a quick glance away or to the ground.
Here my eyes are wide and fierce as I try and gather all that is around me as I know soon enough I will be back home, back into the familiar sights and sounds, busy cities, cars nearly running me over in a hurry to get nowhere fast. I miss home, but I want to soak this up. I want to learn more of the world and I want to hold on to this feeling of warmth without having to feel guilty or guarded. In a market in Rotterdam with a new friend I am happy for a minute.
For a month I went missing. I was missing because I was happy - why? The sunshine. And the person who's smile and presence replaced the sun. My freedom to walk arm and arm at the market. We cross the bridge to the 'working-man's market'. Suddenly you are no longer in Holland as you imagine it. Here, we are in the South. The wild cries of prices for fresh produce, enticing colours, scents and sounds - its like a Turkish bazaar. But this is the market in Rotterdam. Functional crap from China everywhere interspersed with fresh ginger root, peppers from Surinam, Turkish spinach, bananas and plantains, fish everywhere. The sea is here! Dead of course, like a museum, but no one sees it that way. Its just food.
But I wonder where these fish swam. Somewhere far out in the deep, dark abyss of the ocean. The Atlantic? So cold...dark and lonely, except for the groups, the communities of fish. This is their world, their normality, taken away, hauled from their home, violently, miles and miles away, onto the stall where I now glance at their lifeless bodies. Mouths gaping, eyes wide and expressionless, on ice. Where were they swimming not long ago?
We move on, arm in arm and Im distracted by my hapiness, despite the cold, the neverending grey skies, the alienation and loneliness and confusion about my whereabouts.
To be in a foreign country, in an 'exotic' market with a new friend I happen to be enamoured by. I cant explain why. Arm in arm, a new acceptance of closeness not normally allowed back home without complicated implications. Here it is not complicated. Just a new friend to lean on because I am lonely and cold and he is warm. Here I stroll on the other side of the bridge, free and happy. Soaking up sights and smells and sounds, all foreign to me and different and colourful.
A seller remembers me from the tourist's market. Smiles cross my face, sometimes not. Sometimes its eye contact only and I try to burn my stare into someone, usually I cant hold a gaze very long without a quick glance away or to the ground.
Here my eyes are wide and fierce as I try and gather all that is around me as I know soon enough I will be back home, back into the familiar sights and sounds, busy cities, cars nearly running me over in a hurry to get nowhere fast. I miss home, but I want to soak this up. I want to learn more of the world and I want to hold on to this feeling of warmth without having to feel guilty or guarded. In a market in Rotterdam with a new friend I am happy for a minute.
posted by Plutoplazm at 5:43 AM
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