Cat and mouse

Stefan watched me take pictures of the street vendors who sell purses.

He grinned as he saw them waving their fingers at me in that no-no way and shaking their heads in protest. There was no doubt what they were telling me; they just didn’t want their photos taken.

But, why not write and show you a photo.

Street vendors
Click on photo ... best viewed large
Barcelona, 2007

These squirrelly vendors are important to Barcelona as the tourist, locals, architecture, homeless and the every day clever and experienced pickpocketeer.

Prices are reasonable and the best part is that you don’t have to hang around to be waited on.

Their eyes are on YOU and simultaneously on the conscientious police who for some reason just don’t leave these guys alone. Tsk! Tsk!

Might be ‘cause they don’t have a seller’s license (who knows) or Barcelona doesn’t collect its sales tax, which is a whopping 16% of the base price.

They are thoroughly prepared with their wares on the street settled beautifully on what might appear a tablecloth with long strings connected to the material. With one pull, all the products you’ve seen are neatly bundled. Santa Claus would be proud.

So, if you happen to be buying a product from them, don’t be surprised if they scurry faster than a speeding bullet in all directions.

Most probably, they saw the diligent, capable, friendly and reliable police of this fair city.

Be delighted. If that happens, you have witnessed the friendly start of the cat and mouse game.

Enjoy!!

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Too blue eyes

He came to Barcelona about 3 weeks ago.

It was he, Stefan, from a little German town somewhere between Stuttgart and Tübingen.

And,

Was now sitting in a squatting position on a sidewalk adjacent to a famous street called Passeig de Gràcia.

Stefan
Barcelona, 2007

He was hoping to collect some coins here and there because like me, he became a statistic. I wrote about my plight in a post called “Grant me a wish”.

Someone had stolen his identification papers and money.

Without money, he couldn’t get his passport. Without identification papers he couldn’t prove who he was.

However, in three more weeks, more or less, he felt certain he would be back to his beloved Germany and working as an emergency nurse and counseling drug addicts.

I was intrigued and felt sorry for his problem but all the while, I couldn’t keep my brown eyes off his blues.

Would you be able to?

I have a tip for anyone coming to Barcelona from the United States; first and foremost, take a time-out, go to your consulate and register your passport.

You won’t be sorry.

Enjoy!

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07_07_07

Seven photos here depict moments in one day in Barcelona, Spain.

Steppin' out
Barcelona, 2007

People from all over the world were asked to contribute.

Surprises await
Barcelona, 2007

I was lucky and honored to be invited to a FLICKR group of the same title of this post.

Barcelona traveler's
Barcelona, 2007

There's talk of selected photos to be bound in some kind of book with proceeds going to UNICEF.

Dazed and confused?
Barcelona, 2007

Neat idea.

Modeled to imperfection
Barcelona, 2007

Here were the group's rules:

"This is a group I have set up in advance. I'd like you to join this group and on the seventh of July this year (07/07/07) I'd like you to take seven photographs and post them to the group. I'm looking to get people to post from all around the world. Hope to see your photographs on 07/07/07."

Wishing and hoping
Barcelona, 2007

We have until July 16th to post, so I am sort of ahead of the game.

Swept under the shadows
Barcelona, 2007

If you're curious take a lot at what others did just by clicking on this link:

www.flickr.com/groups/07_07_07/

I hope you get a chance to view.

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Tough call

I tried to telephone him on my camera but it was a

Jardins Eduard Marquina
Barcelona, 2007

Tough call!

Enjoy!!

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Neither here nor there

I first became aware of her about 3 years ago on a warm, sunny day in my favorite park. I sat on the park bench, two benches away from her, watching her twitch, pace, smoke and bop her head.

At first glance, I saw a simply dressed, pretty woman.

She was tall and bony but her face had a sculptured look artists go gaga for.

Since then, summers and winters have passed. I have seen her alone -- ALWAYS alone. That face, I thought so pretty, showed me at a moment’s glance, lifetimes of comings and goings I could not imagine.

Then one particular day, sometime last year, I took bus 92 on my way to somewhere.

From inside the bus, I saw her filling jugs with water in our “favorite” park. It was then that I decided to take her picture.

Neither here nor there #1
Barcelona, 2006

Time passed and I saw her no more. I often wondered about her and if she were okay.

One day, quite by accident, I found her home – a cardboard box. The entrance walls of a refurbished building provided her shelter from the cold and privacy from passers-by prying eyes.

Neither here nor there #2
Barcelona, 2006

A few weeks later, I saw the space she called home boarded.

Neither here nor there #3
Barcelona, 2007

The park bench was now her bed, accessible to the elements and open to prying eyes।

Neither here nor there #4
Barcelona, 2007

Nowadays, she spends her time in a prone position, smoking and listening to what seems to me to be an mp3 player or radio.

Neither here nor there #5
Barcelona, 2007

When she walks around and around, she twitches, bounces, paces and mumbles like the first time she caught my eye. Her face is older.

Neither here nor there #6
Barcelona, 2007

I have chosen to select pictures that do not show her face.

I am curious about her.

How is it that I or we are “here” and she is “there”?

Were we born into the “right” family? For us, was it spiritual or genetic luck or, in her case, bad karma?

To philosophical for a blog, I know.

I don’t expect to take any more photos of her. What I would really like to do is speak and get to know her better.

And maybe, just maybe,

I will.

P. S. I have written many posts, and with few exceptions, my stories tell the light side of Barcelona.

However, my adopted city has a heartbreaking side too. The unknown woman in my post is as important to me as the street-performers and the “pesky tourists” I lovingly have written about and you have read.

They are Barcelona to me and so is she.

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The Big Sleep

Ever watch, marvel and envy infants, children, and adult babies who sleep in spite of the uproar of barking dogs, emergency vehicles and tornado sirens?

I am one of them.

Not to mention sitting on a step of a very busy corner near the St. Jaume train station, where pesky tourists, busy locals and where well-meaning, kind-hearted, and endearing photographers, like me, pass by, second by second.

Around this corner of the city, I have seen, each and every time, a man always, ALWAYS scrunched in an enticing and inviting squatting position. But, alas, he seems to be well aware of me even before I have turned the corner, and with luck I have not been able to capture him.

near Sant Jaume train station
Barcelona, 2007

CLICK ON PICTURE FOR BETTER VIEW

But this day, next to him, sat a girl. At first, I thought she was terribly near-sighted and might be having difficulty writing, as there was a pen in her hand and paper on her lap.

But, as I got closer, I noticed her eyes closed and a wonderful, purring sound of a 12 wheeler semi-truck emanating from her.

Her tiny body had the appearance of a contemporary dancer just finishing an exhausting performance.

As I write this post, I wonder if she ever started let alone finish her task.

At the very most, she looked rested and

Now, I rest this post.

Enjoy!!

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I’ve got my baby to keep me warm

Barcelona is famous for the “extraordinaries” -- places, like la Sagrada Familia, Parc Guell, plus statues, fountains and humans.

A place I like a lot is la Puerta del Angel – the angel’s gate/door.

La Puerta del Angel’s a wide, open, welcoming area, without traffic, like a sort of like a cul de sac, and it’s “home” for well-known department stores like Corte Ingles, and a whole bunch of smaller, slick and chic boutiques.

la Puerta del Angel
Barcelona, 2007

For the wealthy, culinary aficionados, McDonalds and the like wait for you.

Around the perimeter of la Puerta del Angel are huge, comfortable, monstrous slabs of stone.

Here, you have a place to comfortably spread your maps, see the sites you missed along the way,

And, to calm your nerves, you can practice “pronouning” the name of exotic streets and neighborhoods you might never see.

So, once you know where you’ve not been, and in no hurry to get there,

Lie down and unwind.

The seats are big, BIG enough for YOU to relax and reconnect with a loved one.

Enjoy!!

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All dressed up to go nowhere

Now, you might look at this photo and say “So what!”

And I grant you, that it’s just a photo, with maybe some nice colors, light and shadows.

And you might say “Nice!” but,

“So what?!”

So … I tell you.

The beauty of the building did catch my eye for its colors, light and shadows.

And a pair of tango dancers as described in the popular post, “Last Tango in Barcelona” did catch the attention of the café customers in a restaurant called La Cava Universal, at the bottom of Las Ramblas,

As well as the man leaning over the balcony,

La Cava Universal #1
Barcelona, 2006

Where just for fun and a reason to be 5 years old again, I’ve used a magnifying lens technique,

La Cava Universal #2
Barcelona, 2006

And the mannequins who appeared to be dressed and going nowhere.

The juxtaposition of the elements I’ve described was the selling point for me when I captured this scene.

Enjoy!!

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Guarded

How proud would you be to be the parent of this vehicle’s owner?

Not only was the two-wheeler free of valuables, but it was parked in a well-lit place where everyone could see it.

plaça de Gal.la Placidia
Barcelona, 2006

I was pretty certain that s(he) did not have the conventional insurance policy guarding against theft

But,

They certainly had a wonderful anti-theft device that would deter any common car criminal from stealing this precious gem if time was a factor.

Yes! I would be proud.

Enjoy!!

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Showcasing a little leg

There’s something magical about the bond women have with one another that is truly special.

For these two special ladies, that relationship may go back, easily, their lifetime.

As I took their photo, I wondered how long they had talked, shared and related their personal emotions to one another.

Showcasing a little leg
barrio de Gràcia, Barcelona, 2006

I also took notice that they were not that “pretty-little-thing” they once might have been.

For some women, the aging process can be quite a distressing proposition.

Women might measure themselves to the way they look and age.

She may wonder if she still has that “something” that can attract a member of the non-female gender.

Take a look at the lady on the left. She sat there proud, with her one leg extended, showing her knee.

But, her face had that warm, inviting and caring smile.

And she appeared to still have the spark of that young teen-age girl where the guys, one day a long time ago, might have said “WOW”.

To me she was as pretty as that pretty-little- thing I wrote of earlier.

Yeah! She taught me something that day, that from time to time I forget.

It’s not what you wear, or how pretty you look.

It’s your eyes, your mouth, and your glance, making the other person feel that you care and they taking notice that you feel and know they are important.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s true beauty.

Enjoy!!

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The one on the right is normal and the other one is tough sit.

Today I forgo the usual "poetry" I write with my pictures.

If you’ve been reading this blog, I won’t bore you any further with the details, but, for those who don’t know, just suffice it to say, INTERNET PROBLEMS.

And, I am a little pooped.

The photo was taken on la Rambla de Catalunya at a time when major construction was occurring.

Tough sit
Barcelona, 2007

And, my body, mind and soul feel and look like the bench on the left.

Although, the fallen bench appears to have more style and grace than I can muster and deserves a better write-up than what I am presently putting together.

The way I feel, being a “girl” and if I was granted a wish, I could use a mommy or a wife right now.

Sigh! Sigh!

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Wall to Walls

In yesterday’s post called “Giving a friend my best shot”, I mentioned a mysterious hole that these fellows were drilling in the ground, around the marcat de Llibertat.

The following pictures are the “fruit of their labor”,

Wall,



After wall,



After wall,



Entwining, weaving, and slithering like a snake.

The good old days are gone but a good thing will come to those of us who wait.

P. S. How long will it be before these clean walls are graffitified?

Enjoy!!

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Mama said there would be days like this!

I've just noticed again that 2 stories I've posted don't show the pictures I uploaded.

Now ... I've re-done these 2 posts, once called "Wall to Walls" and "Giving a friend my best shot!", twice.

I am a l-i-t-l-l-e upset and will go out for a cup of coffee or whatever, return and do the 2 posts all over again.

Let's see what happens.

Thanks for your patience.

Passing Gas

During the cold and bitter months in Barcelona, we use gas tanks called butanos to provide heat in the apartment.

In my post, “Orange alert”, I wrote about Javeed, our butano guy. He sells us the gas.

Javeed
Barcelona,2006

October of 2006, was the first time we met him coming up the street, or down the street, depending which way you were standing.

I took 2 photos. He stopped, smiled and waved.

Great opportunity I thought. Maybe he would let me take his video?

He gave the “go-ahead” nod.

Click To Play

Maybe you can see what I saw from the first time we met.

That is, his warm style and enchanting character.

Am I captivated by him?

You betcha.

Enjoy!!

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.