-^-for posterity-^-

when the day is long, one must take a break and drink something cold and sweet. when i get tired and a bit run down, i step outside with my normal group of friends. we walk out of the school gates and into our newest hole-in-the wall coffee shop.

it’s a very small coffee shop filled with tiny plastic chairs that one would find in a kindergarten class. some of the chairs are quite old and have broken. this does not discourage their use and an enterprising person can be found to drill little holes in the broken pieces and string them together tightly with wire.

i have been drinking glasses of strawberry juice of late. for some reason it is refreshing, though terribly sweet. if i don’t have strawberry juice i’ll have coffee.

i was sitting in my little coffee shop, it doesn’t have a name you see, and watching a soccer game on television. the screen was a good 15 feet away from me so i couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but i watched never the less. all of the sudden, the vietnamese announcer uttered the word ‘betis’. real betis.

i lived in seville, spain for one year. in seville, there are two soccer teams and an intense rivalry. one team is simply called ‘seville’ and the other ‘real betis’. i lived with an old lady and she always used to tell me that ‘betis is more seville than seville is!’ it was all confusing to me, but i enjoyed watching people. we used to go to games.

i moved closer to the television to watch and, sure enough, it was real betis playing at home in seville. i couldn’t help but break out into a wry grin as i watched the familiar green and white jerseys dart around the field as i sat in this small coffee shop without a name in the mekong delta. it all seemed to be odd, yet entirely familiar.