Vinaros impressions

Vinaros, 12 Nov. 2012.

It is late afternoon when I pass the sleepy beach resort of Vinaros. The N340 highway might not go right through this crappy and unpopular beach place but what I get to see is more than enough to last a life time and never return...

The air heavy with cracked petroleum having leaked into the raw sewage system at my left hand site while depressing concrete blocks of apartment building line the other side of the N340, women hanging clothes from rusty balconies, wearing garments probably purchased at second hand shops or else picked up from garbage belts, all appearing to be pregnant and eyeing me curiously...

A couple of bare chested men playing what appears to be soccer but might as well be basketball for all they care - or me for that matter -  on wasteland that is probably supposed to be a lawn and littered with red colored Alu cans of Estrella beer. The sigarette buts dangling from the corners of their mouths somehow seem to be out of place with their sportive endeavours, kicking the soccer ball repeatedly but I imagine without any real interest...

A boy with saggy daiper and a T-shirt reading ¨Watch Me¨ holding hands with another filthy little child but of the female gender here, equally dressed in the unavoidable saggy daiper but her T-shirt adourned with the brightly smiling face of Donald Duck, way too much alike to be anything but twins, look at me sort of in big time wonder...

A huge Big Black Mamma with a brightly colored blue dress that should have been motballed a long time ago and probaly dates back to her native Africa, does little to hide the rolls of fat that remind me of coccooned insects just before hatching, the posoinous type you know, going close to fifty or maybe even sixty, gives me the big friendly grin, revealing teethless gums. Dispite the dark facial color I detect the fading remains of a black eye, maybe Daddy The Hubby was drunk and angry again last night or maybe the evening before. I might not want to know her bra-size but give her my best smile in return nevertheless, realising this poor African lady inmigrant is more likely then not a prisoner of her own time and space in her particular life, no doubt having a bunch of undernourished and savagedly street educated Niños at home she has got to take care of...fat posoinous bugs waiting to hatch inside these huge rolls of fat notwithstanding!!!