THE PORCH

por Monica Franco
  This porch belongs to a very special house, too far away to visit asoften as I would like. It is not a spacious porch, as most people might think when thinking of a "porch", but it is big enough for a couple of rocking chairs and occasionally a small table for drinks. The walls are made of blue-green stucco and have one big brown tribal design on the right side by the door. The floors are white tile continued out from inside the house.

When I look back, I recall the ambiance of the neighborhood. There were times I would just sit outside rocking away watching the familiar people that I would see everyday at the same time and smelling, almost tasting, the humidity. I can only dream of a peacefulness such as this one that I might have when I own my own place with a big front porch, in my own neighborhood.
Almost everyday my aunt would come outside to the sidewalk late in the afternoon, and wait for the negritas to walk past with their full bowls of bollos and fruits on top of their heads ready to be sold.
I could clearly hear them advertised from about two bloks down. Late in the nights you would always hear whistles in Morse code from the street police telling us that all was calm. From the time when I was very small I notice that nothing has changed except my age.
The longs talks, special memories and lesson I learned out on that porch are ones I will never forget. The small talk with the locals and the little botle Cokes that my grandfather used to treat me to are some of the things I miss most about not having this porch to sit out on lazily.

The tropical breezes and the way my hair would blow in the evenings winds are things I have never been able to find any place else on earth, except for on this special porch that's located in South America, in the country of Colombia, in a city called Barranquilla. This place is my Heaven.