From sparse, coded emails, I can infer that Lala the 23 mm (.9 inch) Flamenco dancer presumably danced past the San Francisco ICE and ISC (possibly the USPS’s International Service Center) units yesterday, and was formally transferred to United States Postal Service jurisdiction. I imagine that she traveled within the wrappings of an International Letter, in a mail pouch with hundreds of other small items in transit from the United Kingdom to the United States. It could be said that she traveled under pouch diplomacy.
She was processed, whatever the process of processing entails, no fewer than three times once landing in San Francisco yesterday. At 3:59 AM, she was processed through an ISC Sort Facility. Next, she was processed through a USPS Sort Facility at 1:07 PM. At an unspecified time, she departed the San Francisco Sort Facility. I don’t know whether this means she hopped a flight to Seattle, but information updates are promised on the USPS Track and Confirm site. I enjoy this sort of thing; heaven knows why, but I find the progress of a properly processed and sorted object inordinately compelling.
I’m trying to decide which of my other charms will join Lala on my bracelet when she arrives. I usually prefer to wear just one or two at a time, but a Flamenco dancer probably calls for more jingle, especially after spending a few days in an envelope in a mail pouch. I want to get her a beautiful rose at some point. In the meantime, I hope she will appreciate my tulip, the emblem of the doctrines of grace that summarize Reformed theology. I think she will find sustaining companionship with a heart, a hummingbird, an owl, and a bell, along with two scrimshaw miniatures.
Everything made by man is made from something and comes from somewhere. Something from somewhere has a context, a purpose, and a story. I just happen to enjoy tracking very small metal objects out for an intercontinental spin to my house; in this case, the new “someplace” of a 23 mm sterling silver Flamenco dancer I’ve named Lala, Romani for tulip.
How did I come up with the name? All I knew was that Romani is a Gypsy language. How amazing is it that some thoughtful person would post 30 popular feminine Romani names–and that it would come up frequently enough in searches that I would find it when I was looking? The Internet is truly a cosmos of context.