Wednesday, March 2, 2016

International Travel: The people that make an impact and make you wonder

One of the things I enjoy most about traveling is taking in the surroundings, observing the culture, and people watching. I enjoy watching people move around in their own surroundings, watching how they move about in their daily lives. . I am a very curious person by nature. While I sit at a café or at a park bench watching the people go by, I am always wondering about the people I watch. What do they do? Do they live in the here or nearby? What do they do? Do they like living here, because I think I would?

 We start our second day in LaGuardia, we head to the town square to a local café. We sit at an outside table sipping our cappuccinos watching the villagers move about through the square. The evening before we had seen a group of older gentleman in the sweater cardigans looking all dapper roaming around the village, moving from bar to bar. It seemed they have been doing this since they were in their 20’s. You wonder if their wives were on the other side of the village participating in a similar ritual, or rather sitting around a dining room table with a bottle of wine gossiping about.

 There was also another older gentleman also dressed in a nice cardigan and looking very dapper, out walking alone in the village that night. He walked by us several times while we ate our dinner. He didn’t make any eye contact with us and his leisurely walks by. I did wonder what he was doing or thinking while out walking around. Why he wasn’t walking around with other group of gentlemen we saw earlier. It was as though he was out for an evening survey of his village to ensure all was good before he heads in for the evening. I wonder how long he has been walking the cobble stones paths of the village. Has the village changed or is it the same?

Throughout the inside walls of LaGuardia are religious icons scattered throughout the walls of the villages. The icons are situated in enclaves within the walls of the village. Nestled away to be secure from the elements, but visible to those who want to admire and perhaps pray. It seems like every corner you turn there is a different religious icon. In the town square, there is a clock at the entrance of the square. Above the clock is another religious icon. I wondered if this icon had more sentimental or religious meaning because of the location in the center of the village. I never really was able to see it, and never got my question answered. Well not truly answered.

That morning, while we were sitting in the square, I see the same man walking alone in the town square. It seemed now he was taking his afternoon survey of the village. He strolled through the square and then disappeared into one of the pathways off the square. I continue to sip my coffee, and with about 15 minutes he strolls back into the square. He never walks close enough to make eye contact. As he gets to the center of the square the church bells began to ring. The man walks closer to the archway where the clock and religious icon are located. He stopped a few feet away from the archway, where he can still look up and see the clock and the icon. He stands takes off his hat, looks up at the archway. He then bows his head. Once the church bells stop, he raises his head, places his hat on top of his head, and begins his walk about the village. As he went through these motions in this very public place, I felt in a way was I was intruding on his personal and intimate space. What was he praying about? Who was he praying for? Was he praying at all?

 In Under the Tuscan Sun, Frances Mayes witness an older gentleman that walks by her house and stops to leave flowers and some type of memorial. As he is doing this she is always wondering what is that he is doing? Who is he leaving the flowers for? At the same time trying to get him to acknowledge her with a wave or a smile. The man at LaGuardia is this to me. Although I never found out anything about him, I did not get any of my questions answered, or a wave, I still wonder. Some days when I am lost in thought, the man enters my thoughts. I wonder if he doing his nightly survey of the village, praying in the town square, or if he is still with us? I will always wonder.

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