This afternoon I'm in a tall hot pink hostel, two stories of corrugated tin siding, typical of most buildings in Natales. I'm waiting for my students to show up. Well, not waiting, enjoying. Sitting in a plush velvety seat to take a wee rest while I scan, again, the huge postcard collection here.
Perhaps there are hundreds of postcards here, rows hanging from ceiling to floor, shoddily stapled together. They dangle against a backdrop of a blue and yellow painted wall, the colors split by a strip of wallpaper border. Giant full-lipped suns intersperse cherub-faced crescent moons looking down beatifically at the yellow stars and one audaciously ringed Saturn, patterned over and over.
Over and over the past few weeks, I've come to realize the blueness of postcards. Predominantly. I'm not sure if it's due to sun bleaching, time, an obsession with sky, the lasting nature of blue or something about the postcard industry's azure draw.
Sure, there's the odd red and white Canadian flag; an Ohio triptych within a red & white frame flaunting old barns; the mauve-blue of D.C. lit up at dusk; a rainbowed 1980s thank you!; one of the royal couples wearing red and black; citrus sunsets; a concrete Hamburg from above (framed again in red & white); Holland: red poppies, orange horizons, blue-green A frames, white & black windmills, yellow "traditional dress," and happy cows chewing their cud in green pastures; Vienese gothic cathedrals and brown bakery goods. Grenoble, San Francisco, Australian koalas, so many Patagonias and Antarcticas, Berlins, Brazils, Wales, La Paz & Hong Kong, the Blue Angels, Stockholm, the Taj Majal and Catalina Island--all doused in a prevailing blue.
It's been about 40 minutes, today's class a no-go. But I sense a postcard exchange on the horizon. Mail here is slow and has been unreliable in the past. But nothing's been lost for a while, and the idea of sending and receiving mail throughout this bitter cold (for me!) winter warms my heart. Funny, just today I also stumbled across The Benevolent Postcard Society, a little too late, but what a beautiful idea!
So, send me your address, even if you think I already have it! xoxo
Perhaps there are hundreds of postcards here, rows hanging from ceiling to floor, shoddily stapled together. They dangle against a backdrop of a blue and yellow painted wall, the colors split by a strip of wallpaper border. Giant full-lipped suns intersperse cherub-faced crescent moons looking down beatifically at the yellow stars and one audaciously ringed Saturn, patterned over and over.
Over and over the past few weeks, I've come to realize the blueness of postcards. Predominantly. I'm not sure if it's due to sun bleaching, time, an obsession with sky, the lasting nature of blue or something about the postcard industry's azure draw.
Sure, there's the odd red and white Canadian flag; an Ohio triptych within a red & white frame flaunting old barns; the mauve-blue of D.C. lit up at dusk; a rainbowed 1980s thank you!; one of the royal couples wearing red and black; citrus sunsets; a concrete Hamburg from above (framed again in red & white); Holland: red poppies, orange horizons, blue-green A frames, white & black windmills, yellow "traditional dress," and happy cows chewing their cud in green pastures; Vienese gothic cathedrals and brown bakery goods. Grenoble, San Francisco, Australian koalas, so many Patagonias and Antarcticas, Berlins, Brazils, Wales, La Paz & Hong Kong, the Blue Angels, Stockholm, the Taj Majal and Catalina Island--all doused in a prevailing blue.
It's been about 40 minutes, today's class a no-go. But I sense a postcard exchange on the horizon. Mail here is slow and has been unreliable in the past. But nothing's been lost for a while, and the idea of sending and receiving mail throughout this bitter cold (for me!) winter warms my heart. Funny, just today I also stumbled across The Benevolent Postcard Society, a little too late, but what a beautiful idea!
So, send me your address, even if you think I already have it! xoxo
1 comment:
When I was in college one of the things I treasured was going to my campus mailbox and finding letters from home. I'd find a nice shady spot under a tree and read letters from my sisters and friends. And I'd re-read them about 3 times and smile and think of home. This was right before everyone got an email address and way before Facebook. I really miss those moments. I really miss getting letters in general. No one writes letters anymore, and I send one or two letters a year. But nothing will replace postcards! I still get those once in a while and it makes me grin. So send one my way! Ha Trinh, 940 Guerrero St. #12, San Francisco, CA 94110. Thanks, Heather!
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