May Day

In Argentina, Sud America, travelling on August 17, 2010 at 3:00 am

May Day bank holiday falls on a Saturday for the Argentinians and the international workers day is celebrated by a Saturday when no one works, apart from the bus and taxi drivers and the odd kiosco owner and those out to make a quick peso as everyone heads to the Parque de General San martin for a bit of sun worshipping, and game playing, and eating mixed with gossiping.

Cars line the roads that crisscross the Parque, folding chairs and tables pulled out placed under trees, on the bent and short grass areas, in-between the males of the family having a kick about, whether still at school or rotund head of the family. All become the great short one Maradona, or the many second comings that have so far fallen short Ortega, Aimar, Riquelme, Messi. The ball at their feet turning their body clocks backwards/forwards, as they become younger sprightlier or older stronger versions of themselves, scoring that goal that wins that cup.

Dogs tongues lolling, dashing hither and thither, police on their tall horses, sauntering along the roped off roads, runners striding or struggling through their miles, the workout fiends with their tops left behind, sweat glistening over muscles so lovingly manufactured. Walking purposefully, everyone’s gaze required. Girls on rollerblades, knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmets on, modern day stormtroopers behind their shades. Cyclists on road bikes and mountain bikes looping the Parque, legs turning, beside them spinning hard to keep up and failing, kids on bikes with training wheels, bmx’s, mini mountain bikes, left behind as their cycling elders pass. Couples strolling arm in arm, kids tugging ineffectually on the leads of their biggest than them dogs. Mothers holding babies wrapped in blankets close to their bosoms. Groups of people sitting on blankets, passing the gourd round.

The Parque is a never ending stream of people/families/couples/kids/teens time on their hands and a whole day to waste. Packs of dogs roaming the grassland, getting tangled up in peoples legs, following forlornly looking for scraps of food, affection, attention.

Sun behind the long mass of cloud, but the humanity that has taken over the Parque will not remove itself they mean to suck the marrow out of this day.

  1. n-joyed that

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