valpo

the one week becomes, 8 days, 9 days, 10 days...after a point...every day, you think you will go...you think you can go...but you never do...something of an excuse will keep you another day in valpo...will it be a fiesta in the streets? will it be a fiesta in a house? will it be another place you have discovered in this "hanging" city? another band you saw that plays jazz-mambo-rock-regge-the lot? what is it that you wish to see more of this city, that will hold you here for another day?

you spend your first days walking up and down the hills and at some point you will stop and think...if everything is like this on the outside...how is it inside those houses? what sort of people live inside those houses?...where does the crazyness finish or begin?

the different styles...of the 60s...the 70s...the 80s...the 90s...the nothing-s...the everything-s...
the discussions that create new expressions and new words...that will spread...or not...but definitely will be remembered until you come back...like...vasile vasilando con marakas...
the cats and the dogs...the first posing...the latter accompanying you to your walks...
the absolute disaster in organising and creating a plan that will run intact throughout the day...
the diary that you always remember to take with you...and you always fail to write something on...
the musicians that are everywhere...
the students sitting in every single corner, drawing every single angle of this city...
the postcards that you have bought...but you fail to send for days and days...
the present...the present...the present...
always the present...no real interest in the past...no thoughts for the future...
esta ciudad...me encanta...

ps: request for photos at this moment is impossible to be materialised...some people are still working with films and not digital cameras...