Excited with the idea that there might be crowds of people around and that would most likely make me feel less of an alien, I jumped on the last bus before 1am and headed over there. Finally, as I arrived there, there was of course no sign of massive festivities. The streets were busy but walkable. And the concert venues were mostly empty of people.
Perhaps I had come too early. Or perhaps this festival wasn’t getting any more crowded. Regardless of that, after several walks around the festival, listening here and there to concerts and smiling randomly at people, I finally dropped my motivation to continue this solitary adventure and headed my way down to buy myself a return bus ticket.
On my way down, I noticed a last little street, of which it had a heading saying, “medieval market”. Markets could never hurt for a detour. After all, I might find something to bring back as a souvenir from this failed escapade I thought.
In the street, I found different jewellery stands as well as a curious owl petting stand. None were too impressive. All but one I thought, which seemed to be the only pitched on the opposite side of the street. It was a tarot reading tent.
I walked passed it already several meters away into my thoughts when I suddenly decided to turn back and head out to it.
As I approached the tent, a fat man was sitting inside. He wore a grey shirt that covered his big belly. On it he laid his arms in a crossed fashion and his chin was bent downwards as though he was reading something. I noticed the small light of his cell phone shining and assumed it was that. I entered the star covered draped cavern a step further with a first hello, to which I got no response. A second one, again with no response. And to my third I thought that there was perhaps a possibility that I was disturbing someone in a sneaky nap they had offered themselves. The forth hello came out of impulse and probably a thud to un convince myself of my bad manners. At the forth however, the man rose his chin up and either very concentrated or half asleep, told me to come in.
I had a manner with certain impulses. I usually tried to live a life where no day looked the same. Where I could try one magical thing a day to at least try and remind myself that life is not as bland as it may seem. However, once I did want to head into something – I had a tendency of sometimes planning my impulses. A treason perhaps to the impulsive personality I had within me, and that I thought, corresponded well with the other side of my personality, which knew its boundaries and safety zones.
It was my way I thought, of allowing myself margin between either doing something really good, or, incredibly stupid.
The man asked me to sit down and said he would read the energies from my hands. For only 5 euros.
I had prepared myself to forget about the perhaps monetary motivation behind his “occupation” and let my hands be read while I lowered any judgment I might have. I had learned to be on guard about these kinds of spiritual things.
He started to trace the lines of my hands with the opposite end of a bic pen. What I cheap tool I thought, for someone who sold himself as a hand reader. As he read the lines of my identity, the lines of my life, he said my life would be long and filled with waves of ups and downs and it was a character of my life I shouldn’t escape. That two future trips would influence my life profoundly. That I had the kind of character that needed passion in her life. The mundane was a killer for me, and yet I seek stability. That I hated loneliness, but that I seek a community of loners. That I was a strong person in a life with many impasses. And that finally, I had a tendency of the following the Spanish saying: salir de caballo Andaluz, y parar de burrito Manchego. (Which in English meant, to go out as an Andalusian horse, and to stop like a Manchego donkey). When I asked for explanation about the sentence, he said it meant that I was the kind of person that would start projects full frontal and full of energy; but that there would always be a time where I would halt just after or just before the finish line –to contemplate the options…or sometimes never finish what I started.
Finally, he left it at that and turned to his right to take out a small little artefact he had kept in a metallic box kept on the table. It was a small golden pendulum. Carved with several rings and a subtle yet pointy end that glistened to the lights.
He asked me to raise out one hand, and while holding the end of the string attached to it, let the pendulum drop in the centre of my hand. I was to let it rest there and clench a fist around it when I had a question in mind, until I was done thinking of it.
Like someone who had found a genie, I was granted five silent questions. To which I let my mind wander for a while to prepare a few until I told myself I would just see whatever would come up.
He grabbed my hand and rested it in his palm, placing the pendulum in my hand. When I was ready, I let go of my hand with my first questions ready in mind.
“Will my crazy projects ever get done” I thought hard. He said nothing. The pendulum moved and paused. “Yes!”, he uttered energetically. With an expression in his face and lips that said there was no space for questions to be asked.
“Will I ever ty back bonds with my parents”…. “No. And it will be very difficult” he uttered.
“Will my relationship last for the year…or years to come?”. Double yes. “Yes to your first question, and yes to the other” he muttered. (I didn’t even know double questions were allowed in this game)
“Will my parents ever be happy without me?”. “No”. I was speechless for a while.
And finally question 5
“Is this man a fraud?”.
He let the pendulum hang for a while, and in silence we both watched it move upwards several times until it came to a still. He raised his head and looked at me in the eye and without ever having heard my question answered: “Yes… And don’t even attempt to go near it”.
He smiled and that indicated the end of our session.
I gave the man my 5 euros and a smile in return. Awaited my change and left the fat sleepy man’s curtained cavern. Later I walked myself to the beach and had the remains of a cigarette I had left by a sidewalk. It gave view to the waves. And I sat there for a while, contemplating into the night about what I had just lived.
(Leoncio is a tarot and hand reader as well as a massage therapist and hynosist working in Mojacar, Spain )