Comme au Pérou

A little bit of randomness today. I too rarely dare to share such thing by fear no one get interested. But eh... it's my blog at the end! I remember I talked about llamas when I was back to blogging after my unwanted technical break but never showed them. When I was a young girl (probably about 8), my aunt went visiting Bolivia. She brought some typical Bolivian goodies, such as a brown woven blanket, 2 dolls (a man and a woman) stuck together and dressed in traditional clothes. I have spent a considerable time "torturing" the dolls to see what the woman had under her skirt and the man inside his pants. As a matter of fact, they were made of recycled newspaper and wire. My relationship to dolls is strange. When I was 19 years old, I found back my kid dolls in the ceiling of my parents. All of them were naked to the bones and their ankles were stuck together with pieces of nylon tights. Freud would surely have a lot to say about that but I digress. Let's be back to what my aunt brought back from South America. There was also some tiny hand made llama figurines (between 1 and 2 inches high). Basically a wire structure with white llama wool put all around (very smooth and very white). It was really well done and absolutely cute but playing with them, I think I broke more than one legs to the gracile creatures. God only knows where the poor figurines are now. Kids are really cruel. Never did I see a llama in a zoo after that and never did I imagine myself approaching a real one someday in my life. My link to llamas stopped with the dismembered figurines. Until 2 years ago.

The first time I saw "my" llamas, I was having a walk back in june 2009. I was at 2 bare kilometers from home (I walk a whole lot),  it was a sunny lovely evening and summer was almost completely there. I couldn't believe my eyes. I love having a walk in our countryside but our said countryside is only inhabited by horses, ducks, gooses, goats and cows. Frogs too. I'm close to Lille, the perfect crossover location between Paris, London and Bruxelles. In my (over industrialized-post-industrial) area, it's raining a lot and the sky is always blank and grey. It's not the Peru here, it's the French North. The land is flat as a table and you can sit down for centuries waiting for a mountain to bump, it will never happen. The sea coast is not that far but still too far to be able to go casually. I'm living in a region nicknamed "le plat pays", or else worded, "The Flat Lands". Not a place where you usually come across llamas. That's why the first time I saw them, I couldn't believe my eyes. I remember telling that to my yet and now estranged closest friend F. and he teased me asking if I was not high, smoked pot or anything. I swore him I had seen llamas in a meadow near my home but that I would go back and check twice if I had not dreamed. So far, I had not. There was 5 llamas in a meadow.

F. and I are now completely estranged and sometimes, when I think of him and the things we have lived, shared and done together I feel like all this belongs to an other life of mine, me being just another person that has died with the relationship. I miss him and his charisma. Especially when I think of our happiest moments which have been very intense. But nowhere on Earth could we ever be friend again. Pages of our life must obligatory turn, one after the other - there is no point in trying to hold them back unless you're willingly trying to self-destruct. His page turned like the world was completely collapsing but also a genuine relief due to our respective very strong temper and personality. I'm not an easy one to handle, tame and understand.  He wasn't either. All this left me with mixed feelings of love and hate, anger and regrets. I never get anymore confident after him and I learned to be on my very own, dealing with my problems, my joys and my doubts all alone. I have healed now, tranquility took a lot of time and strength to come. I've acquired more wisdom: you get used to loneliness. The end is always a beginning and I carry now in my backpack, the reassuring weight of the hardly learned lessons along with a huge scar inside and a hole that I suppose will never go away. Meanwhile, the llamas were standing still in their meadow eating and pooping peacefully, indifferent to anything but their quiet life. That's why I love animals I guess. Their equal temper. I have a powerful feeling with them too, something I cannot explain. I feel closer to the animal reign than the human one most of the time. Maybe that's why. I sometimes wish the easiness I have with animals could be the one I have with my siblings.

So there are 5 nameless llamas. They are really tall guys with a huge body. I'm 5'3'' and they're all at least 6'1''. Pretty impressive for a short woman like me. Their head is huge and they possibly have the most gorgeous eyes of the whole animal reign. Sultry. A look so full of sweetness with long lashes that you'd have to be a heartless monster not to find them irresistible. I don't know who they belong to but every time I am having a walk in their area, I am stopping by. With time, I have learned to know them, they all are so different. Some are more timid and slow. The bigger (grey and white) absolutely never approach. The red one is very dominant and more aggressive but in all, they are very curious and sweet animals. The meadow is quite big and I only have to come near to the fence to see them coming from afar nonchalantly, their lovely head undulating on their long hairy neck. They want to know everything, get interested in everything. Then they go back to their previous occupation if you have nothing to prolong their tickled interest. How curious they might be, they are a bit wild. They demean their ears and move their head when you're having a move putting them in doubt. Also they don't want to be touched. Every time I've passed my hand through the fence, they've stepped back. Too bad because their fur looks endlessly smooth.

It's only recently I've started to give them grass. Back in the winter when it was snowing, I was seeing them eating the bark of the trees in their grassless meadows. It broke my heart so I did my best to try to find a little bit of grass beneath the snow. From here, they get crazy and greedy (they only have dry grass and cereals to eat). Expectedly, they adore eating grass. Now every time I'm passing by, I pick some on the colliding meadow (where it's abundant because it's Spring!). The red llama (5th photo) is very jealous. He doesn't want the others to have the grass and I even saw him spit at an other who wanted to eat from my hand. It's a bad head. When he has attacked an other, he turn his head to me, watching me with his glamourous sultry and lovely eyes, as if nothing happened, telling me without a word "It's only between you and me now". But I'm not entering his games. I'm for equality and I guess he has understood this because lately he has been acting a bit more kindly. They are so smart! They also have their little tempter and in all they make me smile and cheer me up. I find them funny. When I meow like a cat, they watch me with eyes full of interrogations and seem genuinely interested. With time, I think they are used to me because they immediately come (no, even better: they almost run!) to the fence when I approach, certainly hoping for some fresh grass. Our relationship is a bit interested for sure - at least on their side! - but I don't care. I adore to observe them and I feel lucky I could make a connection with those exotic and charming creatures. The Peru will be for later, then. And who knows, maybe someday will one let me touch their fur?