It’s patently obvious, after my recent trip to Macro Mercado today, that all Uruguayans, even newborn babies, are Ascended Zen Masters. It is already evident in early childhood, although this claim will never be heard issuing from their modest lips. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to observe a woman ignoring her labor pains, just to participate in one last Serenity Session.
I suspect that this fact: ….that Uruguay has a standing army of serene, steadfast, High, Celestial Beings, on call to out-patient anyone else on the planet…. is a closely-guarded secret. Their Hidden Upper Level Training Centers are located all over town, disguised as large, modern and well-stocked grocery stores. Any and all are welcome to enter and to compete with their own local champions.
I’ve just returned from one of these Trance Induction Establishments, and I, who pride myself upon my Patience Quotient, was quickly outranked by each and all. I competed with ranking Zen warriors, some of them still in infant carriers. The trick is to fill two carts with massive amounts of groceries, tantalizingly near to closing time; and then, stand in line, preferably, with three children, under five, maintaining your own, and your baby’s, unruffled composure for at least 45 minutes to an hour.
Examples to all, are the truly Ascended Masters in charge; who determine the pace and flow of the liquid lines of shoppers aspiring to attain the parking lot with duly-tabulated, plastic bagged rewards of the hunt. Said hunt is considered to be the ludicrously easy part. So much so, that no one competes within the bowels of the Mercado.
True testing takes place only at the front, where serenely-detached, red-shirted Attendants present your conquered game to women in a trance with beeping wands, calming observing the stately progress of your offerings into conveyances, only free to move when settlement is reached.
A novice, like myself, is but a tourist among The Learned. There is no rushing true Patience, well-attained.
“It will all happen in due time,” is the obvious philosophy of the masses, who conduct happy family meetings and long chats with their children, no doubt covering future college plans; plus, lots of mate’ drinking; while waiting for their particular chance to face the hood-eyed Goddess with the beeping wand. Even though the basket holds their uncooked dinner and children’s homework yet must be done; this is the way it’s always been. Life is good and we are cool.
It’s only newbie North Americans, like me, who wonder why this Cashier Bottleneck couldn’t be improved, somehow, in the overall scheme of things?
But, I’m so comparatively un-ascended, that even my housing complex’s gate has a lesson to try my patience…. especially, after dark. “Just try to open me!” I hear it challenge. And, sure, it took awhile, but I got in, didn’t I? Eventually!
Before the rain turned into such a downpour.
Someday, I’ll be like all these patient Uruguayan souls. I’ve come to study from the Masters!
IN THE UNESCO HERITAGE OLD TOWN OF COLONIA, URUGUAY ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON – Five Spanish guitars serenade We of the Yellow Umbrellas; me, of the tall, yellow orange juice. This outdoor café with tables and shade-makers filling the cobblestones sits between two red ‘brella restaurants; our live musicians competing softly. Color, sound, breeze, hot sun, bluest sky and greenest trees. Not a cloud above. My pink building restaurant is named “impeccable.” River-stone buildings, slightly jail-like, with romantic black window grillwork as benevolent barred protection for geranium sill plants.
I can see the river, and ghostly on the horizon, Buenos Aires, Argentina. Maybe the Buquebus Ferry will pass on its hour-ride between countries. It’s the River de la Plata, but it looks like a brownish ocean from here. Just now, the guitarists have made drums of their instruments while one of them sells CDs and mingles with dinner fans.
I can see why South Americans are such dancers. How can anyone stay still? Except that these cobblestones are no little uniform, egg-shaped things, but weird and wide, black granite slabs, with space between and slanty, up and down. Walking safely is a skill. I doubt if there’s any dancing in the streets here in this Historical Old Town of Colonia, Uruguay. Surely, indoors, and late at night! Even meals don’t get rolling till 10:00 p.m.; well after the sun goes down and the land cools off. That’s a little late for me.
I’m in Colonia for a week doing research on the luxury hotels and pousadas that I plan to use for the tours I’m designing: “Luxury Expat Due Diligence Tours of Uruguay,” which will be 7-day or 14-days long, beginning in late March. There are more than enough 4 and 5 star lodgings of all designs….. from Radisson and Sheraton-types to lush, plant and color-filled pousadas with tinkling fountains and lovely center garden patios. I’m opting for the smaller ones, even if our group fills several. Wandering around this historical, colonial town has convinced me that this is where I want to live for awhile when my lease is up in Montevideo. It’s a much more manageable but sophisticated small town. And yet, I still must explore the rest of the country, visualizing and planning the rest of the tour. Perhaps, I’ll feel that way about all of them?
In Colonia, there’s an endless, upon endless, happy and true discovery of good stuff! Food under all these umbrella enclaves…. and of course, within the air-conditioned restaurant interiors along every tree-lined sidewalk. Shops, with artisan crafts, semi-precious stones, woolen colorful weavings, high fashions, knitted-by-hand clothing.
I could have spent so much money in Roxanna’s sweater shop….. and indeed, I plan to, this winter. Glad it was hot today. I’m a turtleneck freak, always on the lookout. I tried a T-neck, crew sweater on. Two, actually, a beige and a navy one. The wool is from local sheep, snugly soft. I could feel the abundance of lanolin but not the smell or slipperiness. Have I completely lost my sense of proportion, when I believe that $70 is a steal? Roxanna has knit them all. A whole shop full and you just know that she would do a special order on the spot. Capes, too. And every sort of shapely sweater in every sort of color.
Her shop is the coral-colored one, down the way from The Drugstore, a restaurant so famous and so busy that it takes two hours to work your way through a meal. There are polka-dot tablecloths on riot inside, but I sat outdoors, cuddled up to the antique green jalopy with a big fern growing out of its rumble seat. This was directly across from the old Spanish Basilica, which I’d just visited. Cool and white inside, steeped in prayers.
I’ve fallen in love with Colonia’s Sycamore-Tree-lined streets. It’s shady, shady underneath. The trade-off is that their roots have absolutely tumbled the sidewalks here. However, people who live with granite slab streets have learned to balance and keep a good eye out. We can all co-exist with nature when it’s so very good to us, as it is in Colonia. Plants riot to be beautiful, healthy and green. An ongoing beauty contest!
Except…… you can’t tell where you are because every intersection looks the same. Not complaining! These are tall, tall, light green, leafy trees cloistering low, faded-crimson, or brilliant yellow, stone buildings, which themselves, hide secret flower-strewn patios. I get lost so often but don’t mind at all. It might be called discovery if I could replicate it. But the next time, I can’t find the new places I’d gleefully stumbled across. This wraps all in a constant sense of mystery. Shangri-La, I think.
Now and then, in the big city of Montevideo, where I currently live, I’ll come across one of those streets with Sycamores and I stop and admire and promise myself that, one day, I’ll live on one. Well, it’s in my power now and it will happen. Just can’t tell when.
The tour-planning idea is coming to maturity very rapidly. Within a week, it’s grown from infancy to teenager. I’m having fun raising it and dreaming. This first, special town I’ve come to, is so full of sweet pousadas, luxurious and precious; so many it’s hard to choose. So many, we can vary them from tour to tour.
Google this one where I now sit: The Pousada del Governador, www.delgobernador.com I’m hiding from the heat in the colorful Great Room. Bright lime and yellow-clothed breakfast tables; a sunshine-colored wall and a glass façade and a fountain garden; plants, inside and out; an emerald swimming pool with a jewel, hedge-hemmed lawn. This best hotel, smack next to the ancient basilica, actively worshiping still, within the heart of town. Here. in this lovely place, we will headquarter our groups when we’re in Colonia.
With so much going on, every single day is full of meaning and there’s so much to do. Tomorrow, I travel a few miles back towards Montevideo for another stopover in a Horse Ranch Hostel to check that out and maybe ride a horse. It’s been a long, long time! Such a variety of options in such a small area!