Monday, May 12, 2003

Summer continues edging its way in here, yesterday, in fact, being the first day with the feel of the high season, of July and August. Temperatures well up into the 80's, the city feeling quiet, as if many folks had taken off for the weekend. A day with sunlight intense enough to get you seeking out the shady side of the street.

The gradual gentrification that's been happening around the barrio -- generally evidenced by the construction or rehabbing happening all over the place – has begun showing up around the plaza. One morning two or three weeks ago, I was parked on one of the concrete benches that run along the plaza's east side. Across from me some work was going on above a doorway, one guy on a ladder affixing some letters over the entranceway, another guy standing about ten feet off, eyeballing the work. The letters spelled out the address in big Roman block letters, CHUECA V. I thought nothing of it, didn't see anything indicating it might be more than a couple of workers taking care of a routine job.

That night, returning home from an evening out, I came up out of the Metro into the plaza to discover that the walkway along the plaza's west side had been cut off by a red carpet and whatever the hell you call those things that corral people out or in of big happenings, movie theaters, etc., leading into the doorway at CHUECA V. Clearly a chi-chi club of some sort having its opening night, lots of dolled up euro-clubbers slouching around inside, making the exclusive scene. The plaza's first intrusion of something approximating chic.

[Quick digression re: the big Roman block letters -- if they were the real Roman block letter thing, they should be CHVECA V instead of CHUECA V, wouldn't they? Or would that cause too many problems for shitfaced clubbers trying to figure out what the hell it spelled? Never mind.]

Across the plaza, a crew of workers has spent the last couple of weeks transforming another business, tearing the former space apart, throwing another one together, painting the exterior blue, all accompanied by the sound of hammers and power tools. Yesterday, stacks of brand-new blue tables and chairs appeared outside the place. Today, they've been set up in two rows -- this will now be the fifth establishment to be servings drinks, etc. out in the plaza.

I already know that everything is in a constant of change, surface appearances to the contrary. Sometimes it's more apparent, more in your face than others.

I spent most of yesterday out, trotting from one activity to another -- an art exhibit, the gym, a fast meal at a sidewalk café, a movie, meeting a couple of friends at another café -- so that the hours shot by. I'm heading back to the States in a bit more than a month, and since nailing down dates and flight arrangements the days have begun passing at a velocity that feels dangerously close to light speed. Kind of unnerving.

I'm expecting to be back here in the autumn, but even so, the fact that I'll be leaving for a while has me noticing things more sharply, paying more attention to the normal backdrop of visuals and sounds, at times with a pang of some potent emotions.

Milkweed fluff is still sailing through the air here, for some reason reminding me of past times in other places, particularly one spring in upstate New York, after returning from nearly three years in Seattle, bringing a wife and a cat back with me.

But you don't want to hear about that.

Municipal elections happen here soon, nationwide -- two weeks from yesterday. Within the last 2-3 days, a get-out-the-vote style ad campaign started up -- somehow, they've come up with a metaphor of going back to school for the central image, all the ads I've seen featuring the following two lines:

Vuelve al colegio --
VOTA Y RENUEVA TUS ILUSIONES

Which translates to:

Return to school --
VOTE AND RENEW YOUR....

[the word "ilusiones" can mean either illusions/delusions or hopes -- is this an ink-blot test for the voting-age ad reader or what?]

Hmmmmm.

rws 12:49 PM [+]

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