May 1 Wednesday
Public holiday. Bit warmer and fairly sunny. Went shopping but supermarket closed. Beach and prom busy. Danced in various places. . A toddler of probably not much more than a year was transfixed and would now and then bounce up and down. A young girl (I guess 7) stopped skating and lay on the ground to watch. Group of maybe 5 teenage girls were watching me from the beach. I bowed to them and they burst into applause and then left – I think they went to play volleyball. Two women of around 40 were watching with what I would be tempted to think (or simply imagine) was a touch of lust. I waved goodbye when I moved on and one of them waved back. When I reached the end of the prom and the end of my energy, I sat down to change my shoes and a small boy asked, “Que haces?” (What you doing?) I explained that I was changing my shoes; that I have special shoes for dancing. He and his sister then asked questions like a pack of journalists. Their chirping voices being so high pitched that I could barely understand what they asked.
“Why are you going home?”
Because I am tired. – To which the boy pointed out that he wasn’t tired.
“Can you dance some more?”
No, I am tired.
“You’re old” (Actual word ‘mayor’ also means ‘grown-up’)
Yes, I am old.
“How old are you?”
“60?” the girl asked perplexed. “He has this many,” she said holding up 4 fingers.
Four? I asked. She nodded.
“I have this many,” she held up 3 fingers.
“Can’t you dance at home?”
Yes, but I prefer to dance here, it is more interesting.
They said or asked other things that sounded like birdsong.
Their father came over. I suppose he is about 28. We spoke briefly. I thought later that those children probably have very little idea of numbers like ’60’ and of course no concept of there being an age ’60’. As I walked home some young man tooted the horn of his car and waved in my direction. I waved back and the passengers smiled and waved to me. (You never know if it is going to be friendly or not.)


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