L'aura del Campo

International Fest: Greece, Zimbabwe, Turkey, Bhutan

SPRING: 6 Jalál (14 April)

Weather where I am: 86º and warm.

Weather in Växjö, Småland, Sverige: 39º.

I usually use Yahoo. But found these other weather sites:

http://www.wunderground.com

and

http://www.eurometeo.gr

where I found out it is 55º in Thessaloniki, Greece this evening!

Zimbabwe and Greece ...

Now why Greece? Well, zwisis is there of course! Also, at the International Fest today, I spoke to a student who had been to Mellisohori! We couldn't find it on the map, however.

Also, found out that one of the best poets here is from Zimbabwe. (And I didn't know he was from Zimbabwe. I would've guessed a place like Peoria, Illinois or Lincoln, Nebraska.) I've spoken with him at various times and have heard him recite his own poetry. He is awesome. Now, if I could just get his name straight ...

... and Brazil, Turkey and Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iran ...

Neslihan was beautiful again today. She's the hostess with the mostess. Yesterday, she ran the Fashion Show. Both men and women walked the runway during Tea @ 3. Spoke to one man who was wearing a stunning silk outfit that he said would be worn by a prince! And dear Odessa from Curitiba, Brasil wore a red and white dress that she referred to as a 'sinha-zinha'.

Neslihan comes from Turkey. I told her I was thrilled to see the booths of Greece and Turkey next to each other! She smiled. She had something to do with that arrangement! At the Turkish booth I mentioned that I'm not fond of cities, but would really like to visit Stambul (Istanbul).

The Saudis were showing typical Arab hospitality by offering refreshments and had an area that folks could sit down on carpets for tea. Nicely done. The Kuwaitis had a game set out that looked and played similar to checkers. Games are universal. (The Turks had two backgammon sets out.)

The Iranian women showed off a variety of scarves to the young female students passing by, asking them to try one on. Many did.

... lest we forget Bolivia, Guatemala, France, España and Bhutan.

Of course, can't forget Bolivia! Had to say hello to Juan Araoz. I'll be e-mailing his brother Gastón later. He was putting up posters. One I thought was a landscape of snow. Nope! It was a 'salar', a field or 'pan' of salt.

The Guatemalans were there. Yesterday, I spoke to Pedro who is from Huehuetenango. I've had folks from there stay at my house. Short people. Pedro speaks Spanish and Q'ekchob'al.

I ran into Guzmán 'o galego' again. He's from Galicia and speaks French and Italian as well as his native Galego and Spanish.

At the French table I had a nice conversation about learning children's songs that I can still remember after all these years! (comme 'Sur le pont d'Avignon' et 'Au claire de la lune') I mentioned that I'd like to visit Toulouse, Avignon, Arles. The one guy suggested Amiens, the little Venezia of France.

Finally, it was great to speak again to the only student from Bhutan. No one knows where her little country is!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhutan

At this link, one can even read the article translated into Galego:

O Reino de Bután (འབྲུག་ཡུལ dru ü) é unha nación pequena e montañosa de Asia, localizada na cordilleira do Himalaia entre India e China. O nome local do país, Druk Yul significa “a terra do dragón de tronos”; pois segundo a tradición local, os tronos son o son dos ruxidos dos dragóns.

SENSED

Smell of smoky barbeque; smell of lilacs; after 10 pm, the warmth; the sound of air-conditioning; a full moon sky; the unease of a sultry night.

Redbud leaves coming out; the construction site for the new fountain being prepared; lawns full of white stars-of-bethlehem; bridal wreath spirea; irises.

Sketched this morning (remember fresh is good for doughnuts and roses, but not always for manure or poetry!):

Looking for the greatest gift


Assorted pens of rainbow colors,
rags that once I wore,
a pile of books, three socks, newspaper,
two threats that once I swore.

I've collected all these useless things
in boxes, cars, my house,
and stashed them deep down in my mind
among old jumbled thoughts.

And 'where are you?' I ask myself,
and fling aside a shoe.
Where did I put my greatest gift?
Where, oh where, are you? [163.61]