Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in Lamas, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First off, I’m a violin maker. Yeah, I know, kinda niche, but whatever. I love it. So, I head out to my workshop on Rua da Liberdade. It’s a cozy little spot, filled with wood shavings and the smell of varnish. But today? Ugh. I get there, and my tools are all messed up. Like, who even does that? I swear, it’s like they have a vendetta against me.
Anyway, I’m trying to fix a scroll for this fancy violin. It’s supposed to be a masterpiece, but I’m just not feeling it. I’m sweating bullets, and my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Miguel. He’s like, “Yo, let’s hit up the café on Rua da Igreja.” I’m like, “Dude, I can’t. I’m in the zone.” But then I think, “A coffee wouldn’t hurt.”
So, I pack up and head out. The streets of Lamas are buzzing. People are chatting, kids are playing, and I’m just trying to dodge the dog poop on the sidewalk. Seriously, it’s like an obstacle course out here. I finally get to the café, and Miguel’s already there, sipping on some espresso like he owns the place.
We start talking about life, you know? He’s all about that “live in the moment” vibe, and I’m just like, “Dude, I’m trying to make violins here!” But then he says something that hits me. “You gotta enjoy the process, man.” And I’m like, “Yeah, maybe he’s right.”
After a couple of coffees, I’m feeling pumped. I rush back to my workshop, ready to tackle that scroll. But guess what? I trip over my own feet. Classic me. I land right on my toolbox. Ouch! My hand is throbbing, and I’m cursing like a sailor.
But I push through. I grab the wood, and I’m shaping it, feeling the grain. It’s therapeutic, you know? I’m lost in the moment, and then—BAM! The door swings open. It’s this old lady from down the street, Dona Maria. She’s like, “You’re making violins? Can you fix my old one?”
I’m like, “Sure, bring it in!” She pulls out this ancient violin, and I’m thinking, “This thing’s seen better days.” But I can’t say no. I mean, it’s Dona Maria. She’s a legend in Lamas.
So, I spend the next few hours working on her violin. It’s a mess, but I’m determined. I’m sweating, cursing, and then—surprise! I find a hidden signature inside. It’s from some famous maker! I’m freaking out. This could be worth a fortune!
Finally, I finish up, and Dona Maria comes back. She’s all smiles, and I’m like, “You’re gonna love this!” I hand it to her, and her eyes light up. “Oh, my dear! It’s beautiful!” And I’m like, “Yeah, I know, right?”
But then, just as I’m basking in the glory, my phone buzzes again. It’s a message from a client. “Where’s my violin?” I’m like, “Dude, chill! I’m working on it!”
So, I’m juggling all this chaos, and I can’t help but laugh. Lamas is wild, man. One minute you’re fixing violins, the next you’re dodging old ladies and angry clients.
As the sun sets over the hills, I finally sit down, exhausted but happy. Lamas, with its winding streets and vibrant life, it’s a crazy place. But it’s home. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
What a day, huh?