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Connections
I can feel this thread running all over me, it’s like I am connected to the deep blue sea and the current is pulling me into the deep dragging me towards an unplanned destiny; the cords are running in vain and something profound is driving me insane.
The wind gust is moving in my direction holding conference in the heavens and moving at a speed of sixty six miles per hour spilling water in my back and pushing waves above my head covering the beach.
It was quick and sudden and forces everyone to leave in hurry; it wasn’t a tsunami or a monster in the sea, it was Zeus sitting on a rock crying out to thee.
I feel connected to everything and this is how the story begins. I was studying in the Far East in the early nineties and I met students from every country that is documented in history. At first it felt absurd but something was pulling me to the other side of the world and so I got in the middle of it, and ever since I cannot get out of it.
I had connection to every single one of them but just a few of them were my friends, Sweden, Germany, Iceland and Mexico were close and Bangladesh and Romania got the toast. India with its perfumed milk tea, love to entertain everybody, he was a happy drunk and a fine journalist flying in the second decree.
The floor on which I live was the epic center of everything, it had drama galore and there were always people parading on the floor. We had no kitchen so the washroom where we had shower and use the toilet was our make shift kitchen. We had little wire hot plate and cooked on it in the corridor next to our room door.
One thing that stood out in my memory was the European woman with red hair and speckled face that lived a couple doors from me.She had scrambled eggs every single day and shortly after meal she went into motion and regurgitated everything.
She wasn’t skinny or anything, she had a unique body but rumors festered on the ground branded here as anorexia. I could not bring myself to believe that, she had a beautiful smile, but she never spoke, she only smiles when I meet her in the corridor or in the wash room.
There were cultural fights too over the smell of food so the Africans and the South Koreans had it out on the top floor. Knife was drawn and one end up in the embassy lawn and the other in the hospital bed over the kimchi smell.
There was hallucination on the floor the Nepalese girl went from door to door she had drugs in her system and she shocked everyone in the mornings.
The scary part of it was the Finland guy that suddenly starts to cry, one cold winter morning we were on our way to class and he jumped from the fourth floor and took his own life.
But the Africans on the run, suffered the most from alcohol overdose. Some were medical doctors and others were of high caliber but they could not stand the “temperature.”
Some were found decease in gutters and intoxicated in the subway station and others bodies were found in lakes frozen in ice. Many did not make it and my friend from Bangladesh could not stand it, she went home before the course completed.
But I found a way to deal with; I stayed focus through intense studies. I shopped and cooked often and invite everyone to eat my food. It was the art of sharing and giving that gave my life meaning. It kept me focus and I never get distracted.
I feel connected to everything and sometime I just want to sing, and when I went to the west I met the second best. I had students from everywhere that came from countries far and near to join my class.
The connection is strong and when something goes wrong in any country I can feel it deep down in my belly. I had student from Prague that I taught in Miami and I am feeling very sorry. It is that connection that keeps running up and down in my belly.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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