Children run through Marbella's streets, plastic bags flying behind them like parachutes. The sound of their laughter is mixed with the slip-slap of wind as it catches the bags. I can sense the excitement in the air. A group of four children grab hands and twirl together; one girl looses her bag and her friends scramble after it, the excitement in their eyes shining brighter than any of the twinkle lights that adorn the trees and street lamps.
A grandfather bends down across the street from me and takes the hand of a young boy, whom I presume to be his grandson. They exchange secret smiles and lean their heads into the street, both straining for a glimpse of the oncoming parade. There's a tenderness in his gesture that seems to emanate through the throngs of people that line Marbella's streets. Everyone has come out for this important day: the old, the young, even the I'm-too-cool-teenagers have managed to show up. My eyes meander through the people and I notice the typical Spanish tradition of stoppin and talking to everyone you know. One woman, in her elderly years, walks down the street with what I assume is her family. Every few feet, she stops to greet someone: a child, an adult, a girl, a boy. Each person she calls out to smiles at her approach and greets her as an old friend; a kiss on each cheek and a catch up on life.
My attention drifts to the balloons that every other child seems to cling to. I see their mothers glance worryingly upwards every few seconds, as if nervous that the balloon will disappear and their child's special day will be ruined. I feel a sudden urge to buy a balloon, wishing that it would lift me off the ground and take me back to my childhood. There's a part of me that aches terribly to laugh freely like these children that run around me, to have their freedom of thought and their honest trust in the magic of the world.
Suddenly, a quiet hush comes over the street. I can hear it, just barely, the magical whisper that has begun to fill the air, "vienen ya." The words echo through the crowd, bringing smiles to their faces and causing the children to rush to their parents sides, plastic bags open and at the ready. Anticipation is building, the thrum of drums is coming from some place not so far away.
A cheer! Children rush gleefully to see the floats pass by, tugging their parents along behind them. As if reminiscing the days of their youth, the grandparents seem to glance amongst each other knowingly. My camera goes "click click" as I snap photos of the beautiful parade; I take a deep breath and let all my inhibitions go.
Los Reyes are here, and I am smiling.
Wonderful, Shona!
ReplyDelete