3 minutes until my legs run out. 17 minutes until I am late to receive my order from the bakery on the other side of the city. 0 minutes until my craving for a cup of coffee turns monstrous. My hands are tired from carrying 3 gigantic bags of Edward Norton's iconic quote.
For the first time in a long time, I get nervous climbing onto and standing on a moving escalator. I am not used to this. The Centralny Rynok has synced with time. The "bazaar" was once a replica of everything soviet-ish. Dull, backwards, boring. It has since been renovated to something very close to an eye-candy. One thing was for sure, the escalators instead of cracking, fragile wooden stairs really got me good.
I pull out a chair and seat myself in. It seems like the Rynok really went all-in on the "get on with the times" thing. An open kitchen, a considerably minimalistic design, simple but comfortable restaurant. Then the bells rang: coffee machines! My excitement with the blend of fatigue had weakened my sense of critical perception. I approached what looked like a cashier's counter and asked for a cup of americano.
"The chef's master class will begin in 15 minutes, have you registered?". I wasn't in a restaurant. It was an open kitchen for masterclasses. I was politely asked to leave the area since I wasn't registered and my hunt for coffee continued.
My hunt was short-lived. Just 6 footsteps away a stone buddha figure welcomed me to sushichka. A sushi bar, but they had coffee. Whatever, right? It was a nice hour of the day. The glass facade wall allowed the soft sunlight inside. I faced it directly, and there is nothing better than a warm cup of coffee in a winter day while basking in warm sunlight.
It felt soothing. The aroma hit me, and then began the unparalleled journey of clarity that is unique to coffee. The bitter sounds of the busy cars outside went silent, the noisy chatter of the marketplace turned into a fine-tuned orchestra. In that moment I felt like Barry B., the bee from the Bee movie.
To say the least, the moment was strange. Barry leaves his bee hive to explore the world. To see the truth of life that lingers just outside the beehive. The very beehive that works endlessly, tirelessly, in a predetermined order, where everything is repetitive, with no motive, with no clarity, and seemingly with no freedom or choice of an end goal. He leaves the beehive, to realize the biggest epiphany there is; to live freely and choose the end goal by your own self.
There was a couple in front of me on the sushi bar. They had been there from before my arrival. The lady was very pregnant. And sooner than I noticed, I was part of the conversation between the couple and the staff. She spoke of her dreams and aspirations with the coming child in their life. With every sip of her own coffee, she spoke of getting rid of the extra tunnels of life.
They wanted to create a life for their upcoming child where the only person to decide how the child lives, grows and becomes is reserved only to the child. She wanted to escape the predetermined norms of society. The demands of it. The expectations of it. In a way, they wanted a Barry. She wanted to give their child everything and more, and then let the kid live and become whatever comes to the heart.
But people say great conversations happen only in bars, right? They must never have had a great cup of coffee with a greater company.
I now found myself standing on the fence on the upper floor with my cup of coffee. I was looking down at the Rynok. Everything is the same. The vendors are the same. The products are the same. The busy climate is the same. It felt like the bustling beehive Barry lived in. All running in circles, doing predetermined actions, for years on end, even after the Rynok itself was remodeled to something relevant to today's time.
I stood there with my cup of coffee, reflecting on myself. I thought of the shackles I was bound to for the day. Barry had the intuition that led him to the gates of the beehive. My intuition was manifested in the form of the cup of coffee, and the gate was the Rynok. For a moment I felt as free as Barry, away from the noisy crowd, secure from the rush in the streets, with my cup of coffee, fighting against my own predetermined timetable.
Alas, caffeine in my veins, faster impulses of my heart, yet I felt so calm.
