After I posted Strolling Around Old Town San Diego, G told me that my photos reminded him about his feelings when we were there…
Since he doesn’t want to write on my blog (he wants me to write this for him instead), I hope that my writing is correctly conveying what he wanted to say and capturing down how he felt with a few embellishments from me of course. Lol😉
Either way, depends on when you are reading this, you may well be reading an edited version. Excuse the grammatical and spelling errors in the first version. I write terribly fast but I do try to edit later. Gracias.
G’s Perspective of Old Town, San Diego
We arrived in Old Town sometime in the late afternoon when the sun shone brightly casting an almost orange hue.
Your pictures don’t show this, it shows the blue sky and the white washed walls, but not the orange.
It was orange and hot. It was also getting late.
Hot. Dusty. Gravel under my shoes. I was walking on hard dirt. I was hungry and thirsty.
My first thought when we walked by Casa de Estudillo was what it may have been like back in those days.
I imagine what it was like back then being a Mexican peasant walking down this very road dressed in stereotypical peasant clothes.
White baggy peasant shirt and pants that are covered in dust with a sombrero hat hung low on my head to shield the sun. Beads of sweat slowly trickled down my neck and face as the unforgiving sun beats down on me, but you do not see this because the sombrero shields me away. After a hard day at the neighboring fields miles and miles away, I am slowly making my way home. Walking one step at a time on my bare calloused feet. It is a hard life, but it is fulfilling in some ways being able to provide food for the family.
Then, I thought what if I was a Spaniard. Proudly walking down this same road after arriving a short time ago from Spain. Dressed in an ornate fashion with a bit of a swaggle. Tight pants, big fluffy shirt. Proud.
Everything is tight, restrictive, black, and shiny.
Shiny except for my feet where I am wearing a pair of fancy hand-sewn leather boots that are now covered in dry mud and with every step, more dust…
I have surveyed the surrounding land, but do not see forest here. I see desert. Vast amount of desert that stretches miles and miles…
When we walked under the balcony of some of these hotels nearby, I envisioned myself as a Rancher or Cowboy. Seeing some of the women dressed like those in those old wild west movies, with their dresses barely covering their bosoms, calling me to come into their Saloon,”Hey there” they say, “Come in and buy me a drink.”
Finally, I imagine that my horse is resting nearby and probably swatting flies with her tail while I continued to walk around exploring this land.
Vast amount of desert that stretches miles and miles…
By Lisa at fLVE // Inspired by talking to G. Hope you guys like it. xxoo