It is a natural thing

 

In the evening, I went to the supermarket and saw a big dog and a small dog tied up at the entrance. Probably their owner had gone inside to do some shopping, and the two dogs were looking in longingly. The small dog was barking incessantly, sensitive to its surroundings, while the beige Labrador sat upright, looking gentle and calm. People passing by couldn’t resist the urge to stop and give it a gentle pat on the head.

Seeing these dogs reminded me of when I had a beige Labrador. She would eagerly wait for us at the store entrance, just like these dogs. Such moments always bring back memories of the walks we used to take together.

 

 

Earlier this year, while in Guatemala, we visited a town near Lake Atitlán. While you went to interviews during the day, I stayed at the guesthouse and worked on my research proposal. During these moments, the black Labrador would often come up to our balcony and look out at the lake and the neighborhood cats. In these instances, the dog seemed quite serious and not at all mischievous.

I remember Yoshimoto Banana once describing how, in some seemingly trivial moments, she would remember her dog who died years ago. She says it is a natural thing, and the memories will always warm our hearts. In this journey of life, it is definitely better to meet him than not to meet him at all.

Heidelberg

 

I left Guatemala City at noon on Saturday and arrived in Heidelberg on Sunday. At La Aurora International Airport in the capital, only travelers were allowed in the building

I‘m still dealing with a lingering cold. I wore the mask my mother gave me when I left home last year. Flying has become increasingly uncomfortable and much less appealing than it once was.

Despite the forecast, Heidelberg is not as cold as expected, although it’s raining.

At the hotel, I took a shower, hoping to wash away a loneliness I hadn’t felt in a long time. Shortly after, two women knocked and said, “We need to clean your room.”

The front desk was closed because it was Sunday. The women, who like me were not native German speakers, suggested some bus routes so I could find a place to eat.

The city felt clean and empty. People don’t smile as readily when they make eye contact as they do in Guatemala. My mind was still in Spanish, and a soft “hola“ slipped out, only to be swept away by the fresh breeze.

When I returned to the hotel, my room was ready. I could hear the women next door finishing their cleaning, their voices muffled through the wall. Beyond that, there was complete silence.

It’s a bit lonely being in a place where you don’t know anyone yet. I still have to prepare my presentation, and then I’m off back to Guatemala on Wednesday.

chinautla

Chinautla is a small town north of Guatemala City, famous for its handmade pottery. It was a hot afternoon when we went there with hermano Marco and Veronica.