Gustar

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Passen tantes coses, cada dia, que quan vull escriure més tard se’m fa difícil recapitular

El cap de setmana vam anar a Orhei Vechi perquè hi feien un festival de música folklòrica,  Gustar. Era un festival petit i al cap de dos dies no parava de creuar-me amb la mateixa gent una vegada i una altra. Chisinau també és petit, i a diari em creuo per casualitat amb algun conegut, o dos. Mentre érem al festival, passant les hores a prop d’un pou d’aigua natural, omplint l’ampolla una vegada i una altra i tirant-nos aigua freda pel cap, vam veure un senyor amb el braç trencat i una panxa enorme que omplia el seu casc taronja de paleta d’aigua i se’l posava al cap. Em va fer molta gràcia i més tard, vaig veure com ballava prop de l’escenari girant en cercles amb algun seu amic mentre els pantalons li anaven baixant, i quan la ratlla del cul ja es veia completa, se’ls tornava a pujar i tornava a ballar donant voltes. Al cap d’una hora jo també ballava en cercles prop de l’escenari, i de cop a la meva esquerra hi va aparèixer aquest home, em va engrapar la mà i mentre giràvem jo veia com el seu cos suat i enorme s’apropava cap a mi i jo corria més espantada i feia girar el cercle més ràpid i el seu cos llavors també s’acostava més ràpid. L’endemà era al bus a Chisinau, anant cap al centre perquè era el dia de la independència moldava, i vaig veure l’home del braç trencat i la ratlla del cul i el casc de paleta assegut dos seients més endavant

Un dia pensava que si em fixo prou en una persona a l’atzar i en recordo bé la cara, al cap d’uns dies me la tornaré a trobar de casualitat. De fet ja em va passar, em vaig fixar un cop molt en un noi que venia bitllets al troleibus anant cap al centre (m’hi vaig fixar tant i el mirava tan fixament, que em va preguntar un parell de vegades si ja havia pagat el bitllet), i al cap de dos dies, mentre jo anava a la feina amb minibus, el vaig veure dret a la vorera, esperant un altre minibus

Ahir, anant cap a la piscina abandonada perquè havíem de pintar unes escales de fusta, també em vaig creuar l’Andrei (podeu llegir qui és al post anterior). Li vaig dir que seria a la piscina pintant i que si no tenia res a fer podia venir. Així que ahir no va estar-se tres hores explicant-me coses, sinó sis. I em va dir “l’altre dia vaig pensar Quan tornaré a veure la Laura?, i vaig resar per tornar-nos a trobar almenys una vegada, i mira, t’he tornat a trobar”. Jo li vaig dir, perquè sóc molt de treure ferro a les coses boniques que em diuen: “bé, sempre estic pel centre, no era gaire complicat tampoc”. I ell va somriure i em va dir “s’ha de creure, s’ha de creure”. Tot i que no crec que fos cosa de Déu, estic segura que és el primer cop que algú resa per tornar-me a veure

Però jo parlava de Gustar. Orhei Vechi és més impressionant en directe que en fotografia. En fotografia no té gaire res d’espectacular, però un cop allà, veus unes enormes parets de pedra, que abans havia estat mar, perquè el terra està ple, ple, ple de petxines petrificades, i hi ha unes coves rares, vaques, una cabra lligada amb una cadena, un riu que ha anat excavant i excavant la roca, pous d’aigua, no gaires arbres, una església a dalt de tot, amb casetes i flors i una altra església que has de baixar per unes escales fosques, a dins la roca, i tot està ple d’espelmes primetes i llargues i icones daurades. Això és el que hi sol haver sempre, però els dies del festival, també hi havia un trenet fet amb un tractor i uns quants bidons amb rodes, una caseta de palla, un carro amb cavalls i un noi que corria amunt i avall amb el seu cavall i el portava al riu a nedar, un grup de nois que corria darrere els ànecs i intentava atrapar-los, un noi que va agafar un dels ànecs i se’l va endur, suposo que per fer-lo a la brasa, fins que hi va anar la policia i el va fer tornar, un cartell que deia que el festival estava patrocinat per el primer ministre moldau Vlad Filat (no el ministeri de cultura, o alguna cosa així, no, el primer ministre), casetes amb menjar casolà barat i deliciós (placinta, pebrots farcits, galetes, vi), flautes de fusta pels nens que després no paraven d’empipar, un escenari i unes quantes taules. I va ser un festival fantàstic

So many things are happening every day, that later, when i want to write, it is very difficult to recapitulate

On weekend we went to Orhei Vechi because it was a festival of folkloric music, Gustar. It was a small festival and after two days i was bumping into the same people again and again. Chisinau is also small, and i daily bump into one acquittance, or two. While we were at the festival, spending the hours next to a well, filling the bottle again and again and throwing cold water on our head, we saw a man with a broken arm and an enormous belly that filled his orange builder helmet with water and put it on his head. I found it very funny and later, i saw how he was dancing close to the stage, spinning in circles with some friend while his pants were falling and when his ass crack could be completely observed, he was pulling them up again and started to dance spinning around. After an hour i was also dancing in circles close to the stage, and suddenly at my left this man appeared, he grabbed my hand and while we were spinning i was seeing his sweaty and enormous body running into me so i was running faster scared and was making the circle spin faster and then his body was approaching to me also faster. The next day, i was in the bus in Chisinau, going to the center because it was the moldavian independence day, and i saw the man with the broken arm and the ass crack and the builder helmet sitting two seats in front of me

One day i was thinking that if i pay enough attention to a random person and i remember his/her face very well, after a few days i will find him/her again, randomly. Actually, it already happened to me, i paid attention to a boy that was selling tickets at the troleibus going to the center (i was paying so many attention that he asked me twice if i already bought the ticket), and after a couple of days, while i was going to work with the minibus, i saw him on the street, waiting for another minibus

Yesterday, going to the abandoned pool because we had to paint some wood stairs, i also bumped into Andrei (you can read who is him in the previous post). I told him that i will be in the swimming pool painting and that if he didn’t had anything to do he could come. So yesterday he wasn’t three hours explaining me things, but six. And he told me “the other day i thought When i will see Laura again?, and i prayed to meet you again at least once, and you see, i found you again”. I told him, because i always take away importance to the beautiful words: “well, i’m always in the center, so it wasn’t very difficult”. He smiled and said me “you have to believe, you have to belive”. Although i don’t think it was because of God, i’m pretty sure that it was the first time that someone was praying to see me again

But i was talking about Gustar. Orhei Vechi is more impressing on live that in a picture. In the pictures is not very impressing, but once there, you see very big walls of stone, that before it was a sea, because the floor is full full full of stone shells, and there are some strange caves, cows, a goat attached with a chain, a river that has been digging and digging the stone, wells, not so many trees, a church on the top, with houses and flowers, and a church where you need to go down some dark stairs into the stone, and everything is full of thin, long candles and golden icons. This is what is usually there, but during the festival, there is also a little train made from a tractor and barrels with wheels, a straw house, a carriage with horses and a boy that was running around the festival with his horse and that was swimming with him into the river, and a group of boys that was trying to catch some ducks, and a boy that caught one of the ducks, and took him away, i guess to grill it, until the police went to him and make him return the duck, a poster where it was written than the festival was sponsored by the moldavian prime minister Vlad Filat (not the ministry of culture or something like this, no, the prime minister), houses with cheap, homemade and delicious food (placinta, filled peppers, cookies, wine), wooden flutes for the kids that then were annoying the rest of the people all the time, a stage and some tables. And it was a great festival