After days of either runningjogging walking or working, I made my way to one of my fave towns — Civitanova. Since I have not been out here on a Sunday in a long time, I was pleasantly surprised to see a market was going on. This market did not feature as many vendors as the weekly Saturday ones but what made it special was that there were many natural oils and antiquated/vintage items available for sale.
My “ole” soul sang at this sight!
Due to an upcoming trip, I had to keep my spending in check . Honestly, the only thing that prevented me from spending too much was me trying to figure out how I would get all of the goods back to New York. International shipping is a headache. Ask Amazon — made purchases in November and decided to cancel them in January. *major eye-roll*
Within a month of coming to Italy, I realized that everything I took for granted in New York, as I did in Guyana before that, was a rare commodity over here. Granted I knew things would be different/strange, I never thought the day would come when Coconut Oil would be the item that took me on a scavenger hunt. Growing up I hated the smell of coconut oil, but I have embraced it in recent years. Granted, the coconut oil in Guyana is much purer than the ones in New York — as most every thing is. At least in Guyana you knew the coconuts were truly virgins.
I was running low on supplies. With my normal skin routine interrupted (which wasn’t much to begin with), my skin was ashier than usual and I seemed to have aged twelve years older. How can I glow without coconut oil, Shea butter and/or cocoa butter? How can my afro thrive without some Jamaican Castor Oil? S**t was taking a turn for the worst.
Then Market Day happened and the Universe smiled all around me.
In addition to finding a bottle of coconut oil, I also found some Peppermint Oil (menta), Tea Tree Oil and Lavender (lavanda). *attempts a back flip*
Where are the antiques you mentioned, RK?
There were many antiquated tech to be found but one in particular stood out to me. The last time I saw a similar model was in the opening sequence of “Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights” (2004) and I’ve wanted one ever since. I am talking about the Fujica Single-8 z400. Based on research, this camera was made in the early to mid 70s. Since it was sold to me by a gentleman looking like he would’ve been in his prime during that era, I’m inclined to believe what I read. I have no idea how to operate it, or if it even works. When I get back to New York, I’ll have an expert appraise it.
In addition to the camera, a beautiful statue of an African woman caught my eyes. I was coaxed into believing that the woman was made out of Ebony (hardwood). I’ll take his word for it. Her features reminded me of my former insecurities: the nose too broad for my face, lips too thick for comfort and I imagined her with hair too nappy to ever be considered professional in its natural state.
I was tempted to buy an ancient sewing machine but that was where I drew the line. Overall, I think I had a successful haul.
I was born in Guyana (South America), and moved to Brooklyn, New York just shy of becoming a teenager. Though Brooklyn was my home for more than half of my life, my heart remained in Guyana. Talk about being torn in two!
I think I was bitten by the Wanderlust Bug at a young age. Too broke to travel, I read instead. And you know what they say about reading? (They say a lot of things so any quote you choose may work for this purpose). Due to an unhealthy obsession with books, I developed a passion for writing & telling stories. I like my writings most times.
Currently, I call Italy home. Whilst here in Europe, I hope to explore and write as much as I can. Please feel free to stick around for the journey -- or if you have something better to do perhaps bookmark me and return later?
Come for the photos, and stay for the words.
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