One of the most incredibly hobbies that Elena has is looking for treasures in the trash.

Elena came to visit me last weekend. Given I’m not in Spain, she decided to visit the city I’m living nowadays, so she took a plane and she appeared in front of the door of my house before I was even able to get adapted to my new life in here. I have always thought that she was gifted. She speaks English, French and German perfectly. She has a brilliant sense of adaptation. She cooks thousands of different dishes, she is able to detect worthy moments to be photographed and she is able to give good advices. The first day she came I tried to take care of her, to make her feel at home. You know I have never had the chance of being a host, so that was actually the first time I had such an opportunity. And I wanted to be good at it. I went to the supermarket and I bought all the products that fitted into her vegan and naturalist diet. I cleaned my house up. I cooked a cake. And I can proudly admit that I was a great host, at least for the first day. But the rest of the weekend, however, my good intentions remain as an attempt. After the second day it was just impossible. It didn’t matter that I set my alarm at seven in the morning: when I woke up she had already prepared breakfast for me and all my flatmates. So special and unique Elena is.

And one of the most incredibly hobbies that she has is looking for treasures in the trash.

That was the way we found a violin, inside of a blue case, in perfect state. There it was. Ready. Waiting for us. One piece of reality that I would not have noticed if it was not because there are people gift with the power of seeing further. A handful of atoms that had been categorized as trash by someone else and that were however perceived as the best possible present by us. The evening had just gained a soundtrack and the notes could be felt through the light of the sunset in the river.

As soon as we got home we told my flat mate our little-big story. He listened to us without interrupting while furrowing his brow, and when we finished he asked if he could inspect the violin. He spent some seconds caressing it with his eyes, looking at it in silence. Elena and I were looking each other without understanding, the shared complicity found in the incomprehension. At the end, he finally spoke, impregnating his words with the mysticism and spirituality that are so centric in his identity, and he said: “The violin is sad. It is necessary to put it in salt and wait”. And without saying anything else, he left the room.

We obviously ignored him. I have to admit that my flat mate is a little bit weird, but you know that I usually get bored with normal people, so the truth is that somehow I have already learnt how  to love his extravagant ideas and now I feel they are a part of my experience while being abroad. Even if I guess this sounds completely stupid.

The next day, Elena and I crossed the city by bike without rushing. We were supposed to meet with my flat mate in the centre, because he was into the idea of showing us a special place before my friend came back to Madrid. At the end, due to the laughs and the photographs, we arrived one hour late, but he didn’t seem to be upset as he welcomed us with a hug in one of the oldest markets of the city.

I have never seen a place so full of Life, I can assure it. Full of color. Of people. of music. Of dances. Of people. Of Life. One five-sense experience. The words of the conversations got tangled inside of a collective murmur. They got lost. They become real. Mixed with laughs. Mixed with the selling and the buying. Mixed with the orange of the mandarins and the green of the pears. An endless list of colors visible in just one sight. One palette full of Life.

But that was not the best thing.

The best thing was that, at the end of the visit, in one of the corners of the market, one man that was at least on his seventies had established as his own goal to make music something touchable. In order to do that, he had displayed on the floor more than ninety musical instrument that, mainly children but everyone was invited, could caught, touch, caress, experience. Without the fear of breaking up something. With the desire of discovering something new. There are people that really put an effort on making the World a better place, you know? Even if it is through such an insignificant and anonymous gesture as  a corner of a market in the city of Toulouse, in the South of France.

At that moment, Elena and I looked at each other and we dedicated a smile full of gratitude to my flat mate.

                                   The weird.

                                                               The extravagant.

                                                                                              The spiritual.

The treatment for the violin’s sadness was place in there,

in such a market ,

in such a beautiful corner.

* * * * * * * *

Bip…. bip… bip…

– Silvia, I’m calling you in Skype but you are not answering. Try to call me, let’s see if we can talk.

– Okay, let’s see…

Bip… bip… bip… biiiiiiiiiiiiiii

– My beautiful Silvia!!!

– Inés!!! Finally!!!! I’m so happy now!!
– Come on!! Look at us!! You are in Toulouse, I am in Padova… How are you doing?? How did your Erasmus start?

– Puff…. I have to tell you sooo many things…

– Go for it! I’m looking forward to listening

– Oh my God, where should I start from? I have so many things to tell you… You really cannot imagine… Well, first of all, you know that last week Elena came visiting?

– Elena? Who is she? It doesn’t ring a bell…

– It doesn’t? Well, she is the best, I promise! She has to be gifted or something because she is just incredible. She speaks French, English, German… And she has such a brilliant sense of adaptation, Inés! She is not normal, I can tell you… But the best thing is that one of the most incredibly hobbies that she has is looking for treasures in the trash…

* * * * * * * *

Sin poesía no se vuela.

 

-Inés-

 

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