I was at the furthest point from the line of construction, literally by the water, and I could hear the “ooohhhs” and “ahhhhs” of groups watching the game either at their homes or in the bar on the ground level. I had no idea of how the game was going; I did not even know who were the finalists!
There was a massive block of dark clouds right below the sun, so once the sun would get veiled by that grey cotton, I would go back home and get some work done. On my way into the building, I had to go through this group of people celebrating full-on: chanting, blowing their horns, it was like a party in extract –reduced but potent. A guy with the red-and-yellow painted on his cheeks was playing his clarinet, and started playing it at me while I kept walking. Guess who had won!
“Felicitaciones!” I told him and his friend, while making my way into the lobby. And he started playing some serenade at me, walking backwards and opening my way- which just made me smile! He immediately invited me to join them to their celebrations on Espanyola Way, a short, nearby picturesque strip, Spanish in architecture, full of restaurants, lounges, and one-of-a-kind boutiques. They would be leaving in minutes only. There are going to be 2,000 Spaniards- he said- while being so keen on me joining them and contagiously enthusiastic about the celebration. He was with an Argentine friend.
I was amused by the developments. Would this happen in any other Saxon country or city? I doubt it... Should I go and check out the party? I had not been in a World Cup celebration since I was a kid in Argentina! World Cup, once every four years…. Where will I be in 4 years?
After a quick shower, I was on my way.
Espanyola Way in the quiet heat of the afternoon.
Corner at Espanyola Way: so Spanish and so Miami!
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