Good day, bad day. Order, chaos. It seems that so much of our contemporary reality is interpreted as a constant back and forth movement. Riding the yo-yo. Stocks are up. No, they're down. The world is falling apart. Wait, things are getting better. Life in Malaga certainly lends itself to this kind of bipolar reading. There's a forward looking lense in which you can see a prosperous, technologically advanced, cosmopolitan, multicultural city. Turn around: what were we thinking? Poverty is everywhere, nothing works, backwardness and provinciality rule supreme. Calle Larios vs. Calle Beatas. The other day, as is often the case, the beach right here out front was really dirty and the Paseo Maritimo a stinking mess. Then the limpieza army sweeps through, the sun comes out and it's back to Paradise. It never lasts long: it just takes a handful of the regular slobs to mess it all up again. It's amazing how groups of beach goers refuse to make even a minimal effort to clean up after themselves. Some days everything works smoothly: you get to the bus stop right before the bus arrives. The driver greets you kindly. You go to the bank and there's barely a line. Then, the next day Malaga presents itself as a paradigm of incivility and disfunction. This week there is frenetic activity to get the city all spruced up for Holy Week. This is Malaga's big show! Too bad it can't be the week before holy week all the time. The Paseo Maritimo has been power washed, the gardeners have come through and cleaned up the flower beds and cut the grass. Our little neighborhood is looking quite splendid right now. Rest assured they don't do it for us. If the city weren't expecting a huge influx of tourists, forget about it. (In the top photo, Calle Larios at night; below, Calle Beatas, in the heart of downtown.)
