This is continued from HERE.
Playlist ~ Someone Like You, Adele
I settled at the dinner table flipping through a Jakarta Journal with one hand and struggling with a Wi-Fi connection for my phone in the other. It was slightly over 16 hours since I last checked twitter! There was a bowl of soup at my table; I lacked the enthusiasm to partake but Ade* the smiley waitress stood at a distance with a sense of eagerness, like she wanted to explain what it was… I didn’t bother asking her, it pretty much looked like crushed snail. My preoccupation was much more on finding internet; this didn’t preoccupy me for long though…
She stealthily blindfolded my eyes with her soft and fresh smelling hands. Yes, she was here, same hotel, same mission. I slowly unfolded her hands from my eyes as she followed with questions and statements… You and that phone of yours…what soup is that… is that journal in English… I pulled out a chair for her. My face already displayed frustration, the food…and so we talked about food, I confessed my undying love for chicken with mashed potatoes, my experiments with her native doro wet, which just happens to be chicken in spice. We spoke career, travel, fun… we spoke our languages; I taught her Hujambo Mrembo, Hakuna Matata, She taught me Dena Adersh, Dena Aderk and some more.
Lovely things happen sometimes; walking along the beach, against sounds of ships afar and tides building to the shore. Even with temperatures at an unfavorable 34 degrees and ignoring a possible earthquake memo; walking in the sand, with a sense of hope building between two hands, and a sense of fear growing in one of them; extreme silence in a rather loud zone, complete clarity on a dark night. Who are you? She asked, again; just a simple guy running away from familiar trouble. I don’t mean it that way, she asked again, you, what really are you. We meet at the airport and I can’t get away from you. You got some charm on you Mister… It was my turn to ask. Charm huh? Is this charm enough to get you to tell me about that big rock on your ring finger? That awkward moment.
Some several weeks seeing the world, displaying brilliance in boardrooms, and other rooms; seduction, romance, love and more; how does this end? They ended with more awkward moments, like the awkward evening when Solis* the cab driver wished us the best through the remainder of our honeymoon. Like the awkward moment when Amin* the events master asked for an invite to our wedding. Like the awkward moment when goodbyes at the hotel featured tears, not from me, or her, but the staff. The most awkward moment however was at Bole Airport, it has never been this difficult letting go something that seemed so real. The uncertainty in something being, or lacking, building or crumbling. The fun though with me extending my flight with one more city, one more day, one more night, one more chance…ending it with ‘call me the second he becomes shifty‘. Well, so far he hasn’t yet and I know you don’t like him as much either. But I kinda like him, not in that funny way, in a way that gives me a huge grin, sort of. But still, the next best of the best works, Friendship isn’t so bad after all; I am the Kenyan ‘friend’.
I have found it extremely hard ending this tale, maybe that wasn’t the end. But…
Till Then, Cheers!