What have I learned today that's new? Well, i learned that my friend is in London and I had no idea. I want to go to London as well. And maybe even meet him there, that would be nice. But that information is not really relevant, not something that I usually consider 'learning'. I have no idea, so i should better start, right?
Apparently, most single parents in Japan work. That's great, but it still doesn't qualify for 'the more you know'. I realized that almost two years ago i knew more about the Oxford citations and indexes and other irrelevant things than I do today. I'm learning the APA style, though. It seems to be quite frequent. I never used it before, so being exposed to it is quite useful. I'm using my online research skills to find relevant articles and statistics for this course on family, gender and something more. By the time i'm done, i'll know a lot more about this domain than i ever intended or needed to know. Odd.
I did look for flights from Cluj-Napoca to London (actually Luton, which is a bit further away) and the funniest thing is that the flight fare from Romania to the UK is the same as the train from Luton to London. Why? Well, why the hell do i want to go to the UK anyway? Maybe once I start earning a bit more and I wouldn't feel like a total cheapo when visiting that extremely expensive country. I mean, i've been to Paris and Hamburg, but it's much worse. Maybe because this time i would understand most of what people say. The nice thing would be to meet Amy again, but she never wrote after returning home. I should have asked her for an email address. We got along so nicely, i bet she would be happy if i visited her in London. Oh well. Right now, this feels like a very bad idea especially since i realized that, no matter how my friend takes the news of my intention of visiting him in the UK, it's still bad. If he thinks it's about him, why would he? I've wanted to visit UK for a long time and there are many more things and people to see there (for example, my sweet friend from Spain who i met in Germany three years ago). But if he doesn't take it personally, it's still bad, because i want to see him first and foremost, in his new 'habitat'. Until this conflict is resolved, i'll not take the decision to go. I calculated my costs and it would take 20 hours of full pay on odesk for me to be able to cover the costs to go there and come back. That's not so much in numbers, but i'll be lucky if i get to work that many hours (and thankful). So, with that goal in mind, i'll use my free time to contribute as a freelancer, to write and improve, to bring the most value to my clients, who are extremely important, almost as important as my school work.
This new view on things changes my priorities a little. I won't have so much time to dedicate to my garden, even though i'd like to emphasize the wedding accessories and collaborate with more brides this year. Considering that my sister is getting married as well, that's a lot of pressure. But that's good, because i love pressure and having work to do, it makes things so much clearer and gives me a reason to whine for lack of time. When i have time and do nothing with it is much, much worse. This way, i can improve in many areas at the same time and occupy my mind with useful things, not dreams about 'one day'. My mind is so clear now. Wow.
I love this feeling, it's rare, but i think it's connected to the fact that i've been writing these things here in the past few days. I haven't been writing much, just above the minimum 750 that were theoretically recommended in order to shift beyond daily moaning and to get into production mode. If i keep this up, i might enjoy the benefits of this for many more days to come. I'm conscious of the fact that the same thing applies to physical exercise and I want to do it, but my decision has not been serious enough. On Monday i'll go to that sports center in the school next to my university, to see if there's something i can do there. No matter whether i'll buy a bike tomorrow. Although i would love to get myself a bike tomorrow. It would make many things so much easier... Too bad i have to get up at 7. Uh. I'll just go back to sleep when i get home.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
Customs
Tired is all i am right now. The words have fled my head, but i'll keep up with my promise. It's odd that, after such a long day, all i could do was watch a bit of a movie. About horses, the English coast and artists from a century ago. Not very entertaining, but that's not what i need right now.
Yesterday i finished the speech, i printed it and today i kept repeating it. I learned it quite well, but when it was time to finally have it in front of all those people, i kept forgetting the words. It was quite nice actually, i'm very proud of myself for this performance. Ovi called me out to be the first to hold the speech (there were six other women and one guy, it was funny like that). I had a few seconds to calm down and breathe, i felt my heart pounding, but there was no pressure from the public. It was good, since i had not started with my 'hate' routine, where i criticize all the stupid things some of the speakers say. The evening had just begun and so i was still fresh and energetic. Still, my voice was quite soft. The message was quite clear, i hope, as well as my voice. It sounds odd on a microphone, but i suppose you get used to it. Compared with the last speech on 5MS, this one was way superior and much, much easier. I could look at the people in the audience and address my message to them. They didn't get the funny parts, maybe i wasn't really funny or it was a bit too soft. I'm not sure. Anyway, it's a great experience that i hope more people get to have. And even though i found some of the speeches abhorrent (not *that* bad, but *quite* bad), they got the "first" prizes tonight. Honestly, i don't really care. I had fun with my friend by my side, making faces and writing mean messages on my speech sheet. I also won a bow in the raffle and got a book as a consolation prize. I think the book is more valuable than some of those other prizes. And the funniest thing is that my friend got my butterfly in the raffle. What were the chances? Who knows, the thing is that she's not into purple (meaning that she always calls everything purple 'gay'), so she'll probably give it to someone as a present. My intention was making my brand known, but it's still going to my friend who's been with me through the building of my brand. The last time both the flowers got to pairs of people from the same family, so there is something going on here that's trying to send me a message. Keep things close to you. Loyalty is more important than new people.
Today i stopped thinking about him more and more. I still do think of him at times, especially in cases like this girl asking 'what do you think about when i say "wings"?'. Obviously, i think of him, planes, engines and that's quite it. Oh right, and dragonflies. Because they fly and i love them. I wonder if anyone will ever engineer a helicopter based on the flying patterns of dragonflies, who can fly in all directions, hover, go up an down, left and right, front and back. They are quite the fiercest of predators and they are so adorable at the same time. How can that be? Almost as adorable as the mantis 'shrimp'. So i think of him and then i go down this path of seemingly unrelated topics that stem from all of the crazy things we used to talk about. Now if i feel the need to tell him something, rather than going through the pain of waiting for an answer (because answering is the nice thing to do when people tell you stuff, and on this regard, he's not really that nice), i should write here anything and everything i wished to tell him. Or, even better, think about writing here what i wish to tell him, not do it because i'm busy doing something much more important, then forgetting about the thing and the feelings connected with this non-existent conversation. This way i get to keep my sanity, have something to write about every day (haha, i would have something to write about every second if only i had that much time to spare and that much speed to actually turn the thoughts in my head into key strokes on my keyboard) and get to live my life as i actually am, an 'independent' human being. Not very independent, but much more than normal people are.
The topic of my speech tonight was partly inter-dependence of the humans, but in a good way. We depend upon each other and sometimes build norms that forget to evolve with our societies. The norms stay behind and get outdated and do more harm than good. The problem is our lifestyles change so fast that there is not time to test out new models and create habits... So each of us has to take control of their lives and become conscious of each and every little choice and activity every day. I've started doing this a while ago, it gets tedious and tiring, maybe i'm doing it wrong...
Yesterday i finished the speech, i printed it and today i kept repeating it. I learned it quite well, but when it was time to finally have it in front of all those people, i kept forgetting the words. It was quite nice actually, i'm very proud of myself for this performance. Ovi called me out to be the first to hold the speech (there were six other women and one guy, it was funny like that). I had a few seconds to calm down and breathe, i felt my heart pounding, but there was no pressure from the public. It was good, since i had not started with my 'hate' routine, where i criticize all the stupid things some of the speakers say. The evening had just begun and so i was still fresh and energetic. Still, my voice was quite soft. The message was quite clear, i hope, as well as my voice. It sounds odd on a microphone, but i suppose you get used to it. Compared with the last speech on 5MS, this one was way superior and much, much easier. I could look at the people in the audience and address my message to them. They didn't get the funny parts, maybe i wasn't really funny or it was a bit too soft. I'm not sure. Anyway, it's a great experience that i hope more people get to have. And even though i found some of the speeches abhorrent (not *that* bad, but *quite* bad), they got the "first" prizes tonight. Honestly, i don't really care. I had fun with my friend by my side, making faces and writing mean messages on my speech sheet. I also won a bow in the raffle and got a book as a consolation prize. I think the book is more valuable than some of those other prizes. And the funniest thing is that my friend got my butterfly in the raffle. What were the chances? Who knows, the thing is that she's not into purple (meaning that she always calls everything purple 'gay'), so she'll probably give it to someone as a present. My intention was making my brand known, but it's still going to my friend who's been with me through the building of my brand. The last time both the flowers got to pairs of people from the same family, so there is something going on here that's trying to send me a message. Keep things close to you. Loyalty is more important than new people.
Today i stopped thinking about him more and more. I still do think of him at times, especially in cases like this girl asking 'what do you think about when i say "wings"?'. Obviously, i think of him, planes, engines and that's quite it. Oh right, and dragonflies. Because they fly and i love them. I wonder if anyone will ever engineer a helicopter based on the flying patterns of dragonflies, who can fly in all directions, hover, go up an down, left and right, front and back. They are quite the fiercest of predators and they are so adorable at the same time. How can that be? Almost as adorable as the mantis 'shrimp'. So i think of him and then i go down this path of seemingly unrelated topics that stem from all of the crazy things we used to talk about. Now if i feel the need to tell him something, rather than going through the pain of waiting for an answer (because answering is the nice thing to do when people tell you stuff, and on this regard, he's not really that nice), i should write here anything and everything i wished to tell him. Or, even better, think about writing here what i wish to tell him, not do it because i'm busy doing something much more important, then forgetting about the thing and the feelings connected with this non-existent conversation. This way i get to keep my sanity, have something to write about every day (haha, i would have something to write about every second if only i had that much time to spare and that much speed to actually turn the thoughts in my head into key strokes on my keyboard) and get to live my life as i actually am, an 'independent' human being. Not very independent, but much more than normal people are.
The topic of my speech tonight was partly inter-dependence of the humans, but in a good way. We depend upon each other and sometimes build norms that forget to evolve with our societies. The norms stay behind and get outdated and do more harm than good. The problem is our lifestyles change so fast that there is not time to test out new models and create habits... So each of us has to take control of their lives and become conscious of each and every little choice and activity every day. I've started doing this a while ago, it gets tedious and tiring, maybe i'm doing it wrong...
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Metal
I can't remember anything... irrelevant. My brain works like that. i'm often surprised to hear friends tell me how much it helped them when i said x and i just can't remember saying it or the context. That's a bit sad, since those were very important moments for my friends and i feel like an ass for not being emotional enough to remember their very sad or very excited experiences with me. i mean i was there, i went through all of those things with those people and made their lives better (somehow, in the long run), i should remember those moments, right?
And then there are all of those minutiae details from that time i was walking with someone and being very emotional myself. Or that time that someone touched my neck in a playful manner and his scent surrounded me like a cloud, like one of those smoke hands in cartoons that drag the characters around by the tips of their noses. That one touch or that smell, that intersection on the stairs, that moment when our legs touched underneath the table or that spoonful of soup he stole from my plate. i wasn't going to eat that soup anyway. That hug sometime past midnight next to the river, watching the sleeping ducks and seagulls. Why are there seagulls in the middle of the continent? i may never know. That moment frozen in time, breathless, 20 meters in the air.
The strangest things have happened in the last 24 hours. For me the day starts around this hour of the evening or a bit later, everything starts anew. I didn't sleep enough, but I had e really good day at the university, we wasted a whole lot of time and energy, but we're proud to present results good enough for publishing, so that's the nice part. Coming home, I found out that the electricity company charges absurdly uncorrelated amounts of money on their bills. It makes no sense. But that's all right, it can be fixed, I hope. I'm not going to be able to finish this part of the story, sorry. It's odd. I'm falling asleep as i'm writing.
I can't decide whether to keep writing the correct English or just go with my own flow and rules. Who cares, after all? There is so much hate on the internet, i wonder why sometimes. I read it in the comments of my favorite songs on youtube. I read it in comments on blog posts and articles i read every day. Why? Why does this hate exist and why would people accept it in their own territory? It makes no sense. Why would i host your hateful and hurtful words on my website? So that other people like me can then read them and feel a little worse after a full day of work? So that, instead of enjoying something purely, they are exposed to the unfiltered hate of those who are too weak or bored to actually create something of value? I should probably stop reading comments. Except maybe on wait but why posts. I always learn something nice from those.
Tomorrow i'm supposed to start working on an article, my first journal article. I feel unprepared and not good enough yet to have my thoughts and words appear in an international scientific journal. I'm sure we have high quality material and i'm more than certain that we can pull it off in a really elegant fashion, it's just that it's something new. New things are always frightening. I know next to nothing about this kind of publication, i've been reading excessively lately, but not much has stuck. It's difficult to remember a lot when you read five-ten articles a day, fragments from two-three books on different topics, a few online articles and fragments from here and there. I've learned so much in such a short time, that my brain feels a bit overloaded. It will be fine, in a few years computers will know everything, there won't be the need for complete humans any more. There will be complete computers. Until then, though, I must do my best. That's one of the reasons I started writing again. Another one was that i needed this. A few days after writing a bit daily, i felt something change in my head. I was less emotional, in the sense that i stopped juggling all my emotions in my head, and could focus better. I even started writing a blog post instead of a random text. That's great, that's structure, that's a habit. I want to make this into a habit. I'm sure I can.
I also need to rehearse my speech. I should have been doing it for the past few days, but I dreaded it and didn't do it, even though i know how important it is. I'll do it now. What better moment for that?
And then there are all of those minutiae details from that time i was walking with someone and being very emotional myself. Or that time that someone touched my neck in a playful manner and his scent surrounded me like a cloud, like one of those smoke hands in cartoons that drag the characters around by the tips of their noses. That one touch or that smell, that intersection on the stairs, that moment when our legs touched underneath the table or that spoonful of soup he stole from my plate. i wasn't going to eat that soup anyway. That hug sometime past midnight next to the river, watching the sleeping ducks and seagulls. Why are there seagulls in the middle of the continent? i may never know. That moment frozen in time, breathless, 20 meters in the air.
The strangest things have happened in the last 24 hours. For me the day starts around this hour of the evening or a bit later, everything starts anew. I didn't sleep enough, but I had e really good day at the university, we wasted a whole lot of time and energy, but we're proud to present results good enough for publishing, so that's the nice part. Coming home, I found out that the electricity company charges absurdly uncorrelated amounts of money on their bills. It makes no sense. But that's all right, it can be fixed, I hope. I'm not going to be able to finish this part of the story, sorry. It's odd. I'm falling asleep as i'm writing.
I can't decide whether to keep writing the correct English or just go with my own flow and rules. Who cares, after all? There is so much hate on the internet, i wonder why sometimes. I read it in the comments of my favorite songs on youtube. I read it in comments on blog posts and articles i read every day. Why? Why does this hate exist and why would people accept it in their own territory? It makes no sense. Why would i host your hateful and hurtful words on my website? So that other people like me can then read them and feel a little worse after a full day of work? So that, instead of enjoying something purely, they are exposed to the unfiltered hate of those who are too weak or bored to actually create something of value? I should probably stop reading comments. Except maybe on wait but why posts. I always learn something nice from those.
Tomorrow i'm supposed to start working on an article, my first journal article. I feel unprepared and not good enough yet to have my thoughts and words appear in an international scientific journal. I'm sure we have high quality material and i'm more than certain that we can pull it off in a really elegant fashion, it's just that it's something new. New things are always frightening. I know next to nothing about this kind of publication, i've been reading excessively lately, but not much has stuck. It's difficult to remember a lot when you read five-ten articles a day, fragments from two-three books on different topics, a few online articles and fragments from here and there. I've learned so much in such a short time, that my brain feels a bit overloaded. It will be fine, in a few years computers will know everything, there won't be the need for complete humans any more. There will be complete computers. Until then, though, I must do my best. That's one of the reasons I started writing again. Another one was that i needed this. A few days after writing a bit daily, i felt something change in my head. I was less emotional, in the sense that i stopped juggling all my emotions in my head, and could focus better. I even started writing a blog post instead of a random text. That's great, that's structure, that's a habit. I want to make this into a habit. I'm sure I can.
I also need to rehearse my speech. I should have been doing it for the past few days, but I dreaded it and didn't do it, even though i know how important it is. I'll do it now. What better moment for that?
Thorns
There's an unnerving feeling gripping at my insides. I can barely breathe. It feels like a blockage inside my lungs. I can't control my heart rate, it's just erratic. I'm angry at myself. I can't concentrate on a task I don't fully understand. What exactly am i supposed to do? I'm trying hard, but i feel like what i'm doing is useless. How can i ask money for such a lame job? I can't get feedback in real time and it pisses me off. I can't work on it during the day and during the evening it's nighttime where the people i'm supposed to get feedback from live and work. So i'm stranded, i feel like someone is stretching me, pulling me apart. The strangest thing is that a friend of mine just told me of his plans to visit Australia in a year. Did i mention the people i want to work with live in Australia? Yeah, well, now i did.
Today i had a few crazy ideas, but i wasn't able to write them down, so they mostly disappeared. It's not so bad when you have stuff to do and know exactly what you're doing and why. i was daydreaming during that time, i only made one mistake the whole day and it's sort of irrelevant anyway, we were looking at the big picture. The problem is i'm looking through things. Dreaming used to be some activity for back when i was a bit dumber and had less stuff to do. Now i've just brought everything upon my head and i can't do any of it. I feel stuck, i'm going crazy, and this task i don't understand is killing me. I feel cold and tired and i make fun of things and laugh and i'm dying inside, slowly and painfully. How do i go through this? i thought writing about it would help, it doesn't. Not now. It always did, but that's when there were so much fewer things to do. i want to keep in touch with someone who doesn't want to talk to me. maybe he knows that it only makes this situation worse. or maybe it hurts him if i write to him. i'm such a selfish person.
tomorrow i'm supposed to hold a speech and my speech isn't even ready yet. it's almost ready, but not quite. i also don't know it well enough and it annoys me, but i know i have to hold it. i promised myself and other people that i would. what is important any more? finishing this presentation that i don't understand? finishing the speech that i have to deliver tomorrow... And now i want to crochet because i found a pattern and i want to make a bunny. i've been neglecting my hands lately, only working with my brain. That's not healthy, especially in this situation.
I just finished the first of 13 presentations, it's late in the night and the last thing i want to do now is finish that speech and actually use my voice, but i have to. I may warm up with a little reading from a book or something.
Getting through these things is tough as hell, but i just had the most idiotic idea. I keep using metaphors connected to my imaginary garden. I sent out a bunch of butterflies and they returned in the thousands. An army. All my 'competition' has wilted away, because they were all annuals, all fragile and pretty. I'm more like an acacia tree. Wooden, thorny, but with the sweetest smelling tiny flowers. Also highly productive of edible beans. What is that last part supposed to mean? Well, maybe that many others can benefit from having me around. Even if it's difficult to get close and stay close...
Today i had a few crazy ideas, but i wasn't able to write them down, so they mostly disappeared. It's not so bad when you have stuff to do and know exactly what you're doing and why. i was daydreaming during that time, i only made one mistake the whole day and it's sort of irrelevant anyway, we were looking at the big picture. The problem is i'm looking through things. Dreaming used to be some activity for back when i was a bit dumber and had less stuff to do. Now i've just brought everything upon my head and i can't do any of it. I feel stuck, i'm going crazy, and this task i don't understand is killing me. I feel cold and tired and i make fun of things and laugh and i'm dying inside, slowly and painfully. How do i go through this? i thought writing about it would help, it doesn't. Not now. It always did, but that's when there were so much fewer things to do. i want to keep in touch with someone who doesn't want to talk to me. maybe he knows that it only makes this situation worse. or maybe it hurts him if i write to him. i'm such a selfish person.
tomorrow i'm supposed to hold a speech and my speech isn't even ready yet. it's almost ready, but not quite. i also don't know it well enough and it annoys me, but i know i have to hold it. i promised myself and other people that i would. what is important any more? finishing this presentation that i don't understand? finishing the speech that i have to deliver tomorrow... And now i want to crochet because i found a pattern and i want to make a bunny. i've been neglecting my hands lately, only working with my brain. That's not healthy, especially in this situation.
I just finished the first of 13 presentations, it's late in the night and the last thing i want to do now is finish that speech and actually use my voice, but i have to. I may warm up with a little reading from a book or something.
Getting through these things is tough as hell, but i just had the most idiotic idea. I keep using metaphors connected to my imaginary garden. I sent out a bunch of butterflies and they returned in the thousands. An army. All my 'competition' has wilted away, because they were all annuals, all fragile and pretty. I'm more like an acacia tree. Wooden, thorny, but with the sweetest smelling tiny flowers. Also highly productive of edible beans. What is that last part supposed to mean? Well, maybe that many others can benefit from having me around. Even if it's difficult to get close and stay close...
Alone
Yesterday my grandma asked me when I was going to find myself a 'comrade'. She couldn't find the right word. She wants me to have a boyfriend, but she doesn't have the terminology for this kind of things. She's been married how many decades now? I'm 24, so she thought I'm old enough to be talked to about things like these. Apparently my great-grandma was a match-maker. Sure, it may have worked when they lived in a tiny village, only on what they cultivated on their own land. Now we are so many and we own so little, how could we make a living? And how could I find someone responsible and willing to grow something with me, while accepting me as a person, being interesting enough and taking care of their own well-being? Could you build a good life with someone you can't trust? How about my communication issues? I've tried to hone my listening and communication skills during the past years, it was my way of becoming more social. If I listen to you better, does that mean you'll like me more? Or does it mean you'll use me to vent you worries and pains in a safe, cozy, non-judgmental environment? Probably the second, since I've been in that situation so many times. The more I learn about communication and feedback, the worse I see everyday interactions in general.
Today, while riding the bus back home, an older person invited me to a sip of pălincă, a local amber-colored liquor. I declined politely, but he used that as an opportunity to tell me he had been a wrestling champion for 7 years (or was it 5?) during the '70s, that he had two successful kids and that it was a pity that such a pretty girl like me didn't have someone waiting for her at home. That was odd. Why would anyone care whether there's someone waiting for me at home?
A few days ago, a friend asked me how come I live alone. Don't I get lonely? He needs to hear the buzz of people wasting their brains on nothing in order to concentrate. As far as I know, he hasn't been happy during the last five years, surrounded by that buzz. So why should living alone in silence be a problem? I meet people, I do stuff with them, I go to the university every day and I talk to my colleagues and I learn new things because that's how it's supposed to be. I go to various events, I organize some of them, sometimes I even see my sister. But I was so tired of the constant animation. In Ostrava it was too much, the guy in my duplex was crazy. If you need a model for a Polish stereotype, you need to meet him and his girlfriends who lived 3 doors down the hall. Before that, in the university dorms in my home country, it was worse. No time for oneself, no silence, no space to just be...
Sure, it would be nice to wake up next to someone every morning. Next to some fascinating someone and not quite every morning, most mornings. Sometimes it's nice to just have the bed for yourself. But it's not going to happen any time soon. There is a lot of work that needs to be done for that and it requires two compatible people who can listen to each other and make jokes about anything and enjoy simply being. Two people who can grow together, learn every day from each other, take a break once in a while to experience something new. I have found someone who can be that person for me. Unfortunately, he lives too far away for me to do anything about it right now. I can just go on with my life, enjoying my alone-ness, not my loneliness, learning, creating, writing, feeling and over analyzing, growing, learning to let go. We may or may not be, there is no way of knowing, the future does not exist.
Today, while riding the bus back home, an older person invited me to a sip of pălincă, a local amber-colored liquor. I declined politely, but he used that as an opportunity to tell me he had been a wrestling champion for 7 years (or was it 5?) during the '70s, that he had two successful kids and that it was a pity that such a pretty girl like me didn't have someone waiting for her at home. That was odd. Why would anyone care whether there's someone waiting for me at home?
A few days ago, a friend asked me how come I live alone. Don't I get lonely? He needs to hear the buzz of people wasting their brains on nothing in order to concentrate. As far as I know, he hasn't been happy during the last five years, surrounded by that buzz. So why should living alone in silence be a problem? I meet people, I do stuff with them, I go to the university every day and I talk to my colleagues and I learn new things because that's how it's supposed to be. I go to various events, I organize some of them, sometimes I even see my sister. But I was so tired of the constant animation. In Ostrava it was too much, the guy in my duplex was crazy. If you need a model for a Polish stereotype, you need to meet him and his girlfriends who lived 3 doors down the hall. Before that, in the university dorms in my home country, it was worse. No time for oneself, no silence, no space to just be...
Sure, it would be nice to wake up next to someone every morning. Next to some fascinating someone and not quite every morning, most mornings. Sometimes it's nice to just have the bed for yourself. But it's not going to happen any time soon. There is a lot of work that needs to be done for that and it requires two compatible people who can listen to each other and make jokes about anything and enjoy simply being. Two people who can grow together, learn every day from each other, take a break once in a while to experience something new. I have found someone who can be that person for me. Unfortunately, he lives too far away for me to do anything about it right now. I can just go on with my life, enjoying my alone-ness, not my loneliness, learning, creating, writing, feeling and over analyzing, growing, learning to let go. We may or may not be, there is no way of knowing, the future does not exist.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Long story
Nobody cares. Unless you make them. I need a space to unwind, a space to be myself, to hear my voice, to make it come out and spew all that it's been holding back. I need it like air, I never realized. It's nice to have some place that doesn't judge you. 750words did not work for me. Maybe this will. Maybe it won't, who cares? It's a place for rants anyway. Here's the long story. No editing, just the raw thoughts and memories. I wrote at it for two days.
I want to keep up to my own challenge and write down the story that I love. I wanted to remember it somehow.
When I returned home, I found among all the papers that I brought back with me from the Czech Republic, a receipt from a pub. I kept it then because I wanted an example of how a receipt should look like (at the time I was searching for an affordable receipt printer and all I could find was extremely expensive, but I was still doing the research). I hadn't expected, at that moment, what would happen during that evening and following night and I hadn't expected it to become a souvenir from that night, the only souvenir, actually.
The story begins with this really lovely guy that I met at the beginning of my stay in the Czech Republic. I went (alone) to the International Ball that was organized for the international students because I didn't want to be really that non-social (I would never go clubbing in the clubs next to the dorms because the music was shitty and the atmosphere sucked and the beer was boring). But my friends were either really tired from a trip they had gone on the same day, or making lentil soup in their dorm room and had started to work on it at 10 o'clock in the evening. Ah well, you can't leave your lentil soup waiting until morning, can you? Actually, you can and you should, but that's a different discussion.
I was alone there and met with my Erasmus buddy and her best friend. They were nice enough to take me around with them and introduce me to some people who completely ignored me, but what can I say, I'm really not that interesting. They would go on really long cigarette breaks really often, so I was left on my own for most of the time, anyway. I'm used to being alone in places, so that wasn't really a problem. I got myself a beer and, after voluntarily taking part in a really embarrassing "energizer" (well, for most participants anyway, nobody actually knew me around there, so why should I have cared?), I decided it was best to stay on the sideline and just study people. I tried to 'mingle', but it didn't work. I was still being ignored, so there was nothing I could do except sit there and watch. I got myself another beer, even though I usually never drink more than one, but this was not a usual situation and I was bored. There was a live band playing, some kids trying to sound all grown up and musically gifted. They were ok, but their music was nothing to dance to.
I was moving around the dance floor, going in and out of the ballroom, looking around, then I settled next to a table. It was pretty late and I was so bored, that when a guy came around and asked me to dance, I had no intention of refusing him. We danced a little, he was a bit puffy and a bit sweaty and had drunk a bit too much for my usual liking (since this wasn't a usual setting, I didn't care), but he could move and he was relaxed and we laughed. He got me another beer (I'm tired of refusing guys who want to buy me stuff - you want to do it, see if I care, but don't expect me to anything just because you got me a beer) and it was soon time for the ticket raffle. Since the tickets had been a bit expensive and the food that came with them was a bit lame (I appreciated the effort, but a lot of effort does not good food make), it was a nice thing that the prizes were quite substantial. All of us had numbers on our bracelets, so we kept glancing at our wrists while the presenter was shouting out names.
I wasn't expecting anything. I mean, what could you on such a drab evening? And that's why the surprise of me winning a voucher for a dinner at a nearby restaurant was really sweet. V (the Czech guy who had asked me dancing) was next to me, hoping to win something himself, but he was just close. Ah, yes, I didn't tell you he was Czech and his English not the most excellent. But what do you need English for dancing? So we continued dancing on some of my favorite tunes that kept on entertaining us that night. We talked about dancing and the dance classes for international students that had started a few weeks before. We decided that we could learn a bit more about dancing and that he would make a nice dance partner. It was quite nice until I felt too tired to move, so I made to go home. V accompanied me to the dorms, even though he would have to walk twice as much until he got home.
In front of the dorms I could only hug him and say good night.
We had connected on Facebook to keep in touch and talk about the dance classes. We decided we would go, but I wanted to tell him that I had no intentions whatsoever. I couldn't start something that I knew would end in a broken heart (for either or both of us) when I had to go home, I'm not the sort of person to start something that I know will end abruptly because of reasons that are quite foreseeable (me having to go back to my home country), unless I'm really caught up in feelings and stop caring about anything except this person in front of me. It was not the case. I was not really attracted to this guy, I had only met him a few days before, I wasn't about to go flying to the moon with him (looking back, I do find it quite cute that he just wrote to me that he understands and would be patient).
So we started going to the dance classes, every Tuesday evening at 7. The class would start almost at 8, but it was scheduled at 7, so we were on time and spent that extra awkward hour talking about lame stuff and sitting in a not really comfortable position in a chair that was a bit too small (him) or prancing about, 'warming up' (me). I would sometimes sit on the chair on my knees, looking out at the crazy huge pigeons that I miss so much (they were very large, but very elegant and beautiful and they would always be in pairs). We would talk about his rugby trainings (he had just started going to his training sessions again and in a few weeks I could see the difference), my foot pain (I still have no idea why my feet hurt once in a while, but at the time I would have cramps for days on end and I kept on dancing, despite the pain), his mom and the present he had bought her for her birthday (and the one that he had brought himself), my bead crochet (at some point I started bringing some beads on a string with me, to pass the time during that hour, I think sometime in April), books (his fantasy books and my children's books that I had gotten in an antique shop, full of funny and creepy stories that made him blush) and some other topics that I might remember if I tried hard enough.
The dance classes were lovely. The teachers were a pair of dancers who organize different events in Ostrava and they're young, energetic and passionate. I loved learning from them, even for that one hour and a half a week that we had with them. We had a lot of fun, laughing like crazy when we had to do something that seemed out of this world. Since we only had a few hours to learn many kinds of dances, we wouldn't practice the basic steps too much and we would get to more and more complicated step combinations. It was hard work, but I loved it and I felt so good, despite the pain in my feet, that I will remember those precious hours for the rest of my life with a smile upon my face.
We learned salsa (not sure which kind, but it really doesn't matter), samba, waltz (Viennese and English), merengue, bachata (actually, we just tripped while 'dancing' bachata, it's trickier than it looks), cha-cha-cha, rumba, jive and who knows what else. Oh right, argentine tango (haha, that wasn't tango, but you can't learn how to dance tango in 15 minutes). Of course, we only learned a bit of each and we could barely keep up with the rhythm (actually, he couldn't keep up with it, but we just worked with what we had).
After the dance classes, he would always say he was thirsty. After the first class we went to, he asked me what we should do. I didn't know, he was the local, so I let him choose. I let him take me wherever he wanted and he did not disappoint. We went to a local-oriented, obscure, underground bar in Poruba, quite close to the dorms, in the cellar of a block of flats. What was special about this place was the beer. They would bring beer from all around the Moravian region and beyond, having a maximum of six specials per night. When one kind ran out, they would open a barrel of a different kind of beer and change the specials list. My first beer there was one of the best I have ever tasted (I had one that was better, a few years ago, but guess what, it was also Czech). It was unfiltered, light and rich at the same time. That place instantly became my favorite place in Ostrava and for good reason. We returned a few times and every time the beer was something to enjoy thoroughly.
The funny thing is that when I was younger, I didn't like beer. No wonder I didn't like it, most Romanian beers taste like piss in comparison. They're bitter, bland and they look like yellow water. Now I do like it, but just like wine, I can't drink any shitty kind of it. I don't drink for the alcohol, I drink for the experience of wholeness that a good beer or a good wine can bring (color and transparency, thickness, flow, foam or bubbling, texture, taste, bouquet - smells that unfold as you taste, play with and then swallow a bit of the liquid). And this place has given me so many nice experiences.
On our second visit to Kurnik Sopa Hospoda, I learned how to count beyond 10 in Czech. It wasn't easy, but it was fun. We would draw and write on my notebook and sit close because there were many people and it was difficult to hear one another. Some other time we explored the map of the Czech Republic, talking about my planned trips and what's to see in the region, his grandma's cottage in a village that wasn't so close, some experiences that we've had abroad.
It was so fascinating to discover this person who was so complex and dedicated, so many things hidden from a first glance and even from many glances. I learned about rugby and decided to go to his team's match and I did. To three of them. In one of which he even played while it did not rain (that was one big win - crushing the other team with a score of around 70-0 and winning the cup for their league).
In one of our evenings out for beer, after the dance class, I decided that I should invite him to the restaurant dinner I had won at the raffle. What should I have done with the voucher? Ask one of the girls out for dinner in a Czech restaurant? It didn't feel right. So I invited him.
Besides the fact that I made him wait for one hour before we met to go to the restaurant, it was quite nice (it wasn't my fault that they cut the power in all the dorms for a few hours and I had no way to reach him and had no idea where he was because he had not given me a time and place for meeting before leaving home, but I still felt bad, even though I was the one running about between dorms in search of a bit of wireless internet that was working - no luck there).
We even used my dictionary (we would often use my dictionary for me to learn new words in Czech and him to learn new words in English). My portion was twice as much as I needed (I had chicken with a white sauce with mushrooms and blue cheese and... fries), so I had to take half of it with me in a box. On our way back to the dorm I managed to spill half the contents of the box into my backpack while jumping like a crazy kid because I was excited for some reason. That was not cool and I felt really stupid, but what I really like about V is that he never judged me. I felt safe to act stupid and take responsibility for my actions and fix what I had ruined (well, my leather Kindle cover can't be fixed, really, but at least I cleaned the Kindle itself, which got a bit of white sauce in the button holes...).
After the dance classes were over (they only lasted until the end of April), we would meet once in a while to go for a walk. One evening, after I had been the whole day on a trip to Koprivnice and the nearby lake and Hukvaldy castle, all red and literally giving off heat from my sun burnt sking, he asked me out. He just said "I want to take you out to dinner". I thought that was so funny. I'm not a 'fancy dinner' person, but I can't say no to someone so busy who has carved some time (a.k.a. didn't go to work that evening) especially for me. But since I'm really not a fancy dinner person, we couldn't do a fancy dinner, so we decided it would be pizza. Too bad it was Friday evening on a warm, late spring day, so all the places were full of people. So we had to walk for a while to get to a place that makes good pizza and was not full of people. Since I had been walking up and down hills the whole day, my feet were not so up to the challenge, so after a barefoot stroll through some freshly cut grass, we decided we would make better time by taking a tram. The trams in Ostrava are so lovely and well organized, that it was a breeze getting to our destination. We waited outside on a bench until our pizzas were done and we got so caught up in our conversation that he didn't even hear his phone ringing, for us to go and pick up our food. Finally, we settled on a bench next to a pond that was full of frogs, surrounded by tall trees full of bats. I was burning, the pizza was getting cold, the wind was also getting cold, the sun was setting and darkness was creeping in, the frogs were singing and he was there, next to me, a bit shy while both of us knew what we were feeling, but couldn't just express it...
I think I'll finish this story tomorrow. There's still so much left to write and I don't want to spend the whole day writing, even though it brings me so much joy, just remembering all of those moments that made my Erasmus trip so memorable. I'm so thankful for the chance to get to know this wonderful person, but I'm still caught in some kind of limbo. There are no regrets, just the weird feeling gripping at my insides when I know that I might never have the chance to hug him or touch his soft skin and make him giggle and show me that lovely smile of his.
Two days later I picked it up and finished:
Where was I? Right, I left it that lovely evening that I was burning up from all the sun that I had absorbed during the day, while shivering because of the cold wind and the thin dress that I was wearing. We returned to the dorm and I changed into something warmer (and completely devoid of any interesting detail) and we even went by Maciek's bye-bye party that he gave that same evening and I had said that I would participate, so I had to make my presence known. It was odd, our trip inside the dorm that evening. It was, I believe, the first time that he had been in my room. It wasn't tidy and there were beads everywhere (obviously). I showed him my necklaces (most of them weren't finished back then, they were just ropes of beads) and I let him alone in my room for a while. I'm not sure what he did in there, he must have felt a bit off. It was the same one floor below, at the party site, where everyone was overly expressive and partly drunk (it was a Friday, so the party would move to someplace on Stodolni, as always). He sat almost in the corner, while I did my rounds as quick as I could, refusing a drink here and one there from the very well meaning Polish girls. Think about it, I didn't even know their names. And it was their bye-bye party. And they were around all the time in my duplex. I just didn't really like them. Neither did he, it seemed like it, but he was there with me and had to play his part (he probably thought that turning into a wall was his part. oh well). After a maximum of 5 minutes spent in that intoxicating and extremely loud and bright atmosphere (my memories of that place are like overly exposed photographs. oh wait, there are also overly exposed photographs from that evening) and a minimum of 15 group pictures (in which I did not take part), we said our good nights and got out of there. There were still guys going to the party. I was just glad that I was with V and the party was not in our duplex.
We went for a beer. Literally one beer, I didn't want anything, I was way too tired to want anything and I was content just to look at him smiling and tell him silly stories. He usually talked and I listened, but sometimes I would be ranting about one thing or the other. I don't like myself ranting, so I would coerce myself into listening. I don't like to intrude upon people's ears and brains and time. I have no idea what we talked about, I just remember my butterflies (in the stomach, yes! not the ones in my workshop) and his smile and the fact that he tried to kiss me before going home for the night and the fact that I didn't let him. I was still thinking that I didn't want anything, even though it was quite obvious that I did want.
I'm a grown woman and can control myself (I've learned this the hard way), so I can say no, even when my whole being wants to say yes. That was the first time. The second time was when he had to go to work, after we had met in the morning and had gone on a really long walk around Poruba, exploring parks and a cemetery, the river and some streets, in the search for my bead shop. We also found a cherry tree on that day, but the cherries were green. Still, they were within reach and I had to have one. After all, cherries!! I love cherries. And he was nice enough to pick some for me and help me pick some myself, because he's lovely that way.
Of course, I had to say no (not literally say no, just shake my head) the second time as well. We were on the street, full daylight, no privacy. That is not my idea of an ideal first kiss. And I'm all for ideal first kisses (most of them have not been ideal, but I do remember them all and I would rather remember a really nice moment than a meh one). But the third time... nobody could say no the third time.
We went for a walk that evening. Our pub was full of people and, even though it wasn't dark yet, the terrace was closed. That's the law in the Czech Republic. No drinking outside after 9 o'clock in the evening. It makes sense, somewhat. So we had to search for another place. We had a bit of a walk through new places for me, behind the tram depot, by some weird buildings. We found pub that wasn't so full and got in. We had an unfiltered beer each, and he got himself a nice Czech meal (huge portions of everything). I only remember the really salty potatoes that looked like the ones my grandma would make on the stove in the countryside, except with tone of chunky salt. I finished crocheting my necklace (the first one in thin cotton string, gold with black) and we left. I took the receipt. Before getting out of the pub (which had on display various items of torture, including a spiky coffin), I took his hand. I don' remember exactly why, but it was such a natural thing to do.
It was chilly outside. We tried to walk side by side, arm in arm, but it just wasn't working. He had his backpack on and it just didn't work. We went by the cherry tree. Just a few days had passed since the last (and first) time we'd passed it, but we found a few almost ripe cherries. Their flavor was so rich and sweet. We walked a bit more, both knowing what was going on inside the others head. I just could make up my mind. We stopped and hugged. That was a long hug. I couldn't and wouldn't let go. I took off my glasses. Hugging a person a head taller than you with glasses on is a recipe for face bruises and bent glasses. It was dark where we had stopped, next to a small park, behind an old building, close to the tram station on the other side of the building. A person went by. Minutes went by. I had to surrender, there was no other way I was getting out of there. I was feeling dizzy, light, my head was floating, I was so high that I even got a bit sick. Such intense feelings are best reserved for when you are: rested, hydrated and generally in good physical shape. I was neither. But that doesn't mean that I'll ever forget that evening. Well, that was just the beginning. We went back to my dorm room because why the hell not, I'm a grown person and so is he and there's nothing wrong in sleeping with your arms around a dear person's fluffy, but discretely muscular body. Even though it was going to be a one of a kind experience and I only had three (or two? who knows? oh, i know, i have the little paper) weeks to enjoy it. Sometimes the best experiences come in small doses.
After that evening, we had time for just a few more experiences together. My favorite is the walk in the little forest next to the dorms. We got bitten by a gazillion mosquitoes and I had a box full of ripe cherries that I wanted to share with him. So he took all the bites, then we walked on, by the gigantic outdoor swimming pool that we didn't actually get to enjoy. He showed me where he lived on a local map, then took me an old shop where he used to buy tiny ice-creams as a kid and we each got one. It was divine. Not only because he was there with me, smiling his most precious smile, but because it was actually good ice-cream. The sun was scorching hot and we had left the shade of the cool green forest. He told me something that I'd never forget. "You have a big heart." "How do you know that?" "I just do". And that's it. We were walking down a narrow, grassy path between two gardens with old people tending some of their plants. The thin wire fence surrounding the gardens created a feeling of a confined, green space. We walked by the tram lines, down the main street in Poruba, Hlavni Trida, a street that I ended up knowing like the back of my hand. I wanted to find a present for my friend who loves food and the German language. We went to the antique store right next to the main street, a crammed little space full of books. My heart melted when he told me he had a favorite antique store there in Poruba. It was this shop, the one that I had discovered during one of my first trips in the neighborhood in February. He brought me some library stairs and I managed to drop a few books on his head and break his nose a little bit. He was used to it, though, what with all the rugby. I felt bad, but also so happy to have someone who loves books next to me, even though it was our last time together before the departure. He held the stairs for me, even though he didn't have to. He was sweet like that, which makes it even sadder to know that I had this person so close to me for so long, yet couldn't appreciate all that he was. I hadn't known. I loved him even more for that. I still do. He'll be in my heart forever, for everything that he is and everything that he did and all the lovely moments we spent together. For the walks, the beers, for the cherries and the kisses, for the hugs and all the dances he gave me and for all those cheeky smiles. I hadn't expected him to make it to the train station before we departed. I was so excited that he was there that I forgot to cry...
I want to keep up to my own challenge and write down the story that I love. I wanted to remember it somehow.
When I returned home, I found among all the papers that I brought back with me from the Czech Republic, a receipt from a pub. I kept it then because I wanted an example of how a receipt should look like (at the time I was searching for an affordable receipt printer and all I could find was extremely expensive, but I was still doing the research). I hadn't expected, at that moment, what would happen during that evening and following night and I hadn't expected it to become a souvenir from that night, the only souvenir, actually.
The story begins with this really lovely guy that I met at the beginning of my stay in the Czech Republic. I went (alone) to the International Ball that was organized for the international students because I didn't want to be really that non-social (I would never go clubbing in the clubs next to the dorms because the music was shitty and the atmosphere sucked and the beer was boring). But my friends were either really tired from a trip they had gone on the same day, or making lentil soup in their dorm room and had started to work on it at 10 o'clock in the evening. Ah well, you can't leave your lentil soup waiting until morning, can you? Actually, you can and you should, but that's a different discussion.
I was alone there and met with my Erasmus buddy and her best friend. They were nice enough to take me around with them and introduce me to some people who completely ignored me, but what can I say, I'm really not that interesting. They would go on really long cigarette breaks really often, so I was left on my own for most of the time, anyway. I'm used to being alone in places, so that wasn't really a problem. I got myself a beer and, after voluntarily taking part in a really embarrassing "energizer" (well, for most participants anyway, nobody actually knew me around there, so why should I have cared?), I decided it was best to stay on the sideline and just study people. I tried to 'mingle', but it didn't work. I was still being ignored, so there was nothing I could do except sit there and watch. I got myself another beer, even though I usually never drink more than one, but this was not a usual situation and I was bored. There was a live band playing, some kids trying to sound all grown up and musically gifted. They were ok, but their music was nothing to dance to.
I was moving around the dance floor, going in and out of the ballroom, looking around, then I settled next to a table. It was pretty late and I was so bored, that when a guy came around and asked me to dance, I had no intention of refusing him. We danced a little, he was a bit puffy and a bit sweaty and had drunk a bit too much for my usual liking (since this wasn't a usual setting, I didn't care), but he could move and he was relaxed and we laughed. He got me another beer (I'm tired of refusing guys who want to buy me stuff - you want to do it, see if I care, but don't expect me to anything just because you got me a beer) and it was soon time for the ticket raffle. Since the tickets had been a bit expensive and the food that came with them was a bit lame (I appreciated the effort, but a lot of effort does not good food make), it was a nice thing that the prizes were quite substantial. All of us had numbers on our bracelets, so we kept glancing at our wrists while the presenter was shouting out names.
I wasn't expecting anything. I mean, what could you on such a drab evening? And that's why the surprise of me winning a voucher for a dinner at a nearby restaurant was really sweet. V (the Czech guy who had asked me dancing) was next to me, hoping to win something himself, but he was just close. Ah, yes, I didn't tell you he was Czech and his English not the most excellent. But what do you need English for dancing? So we continued dancing on some of my favorite tunes that kept on entertaining us that night. We talked about dancing and the dance classes for international students that had started a few weeks before. We decided that we could learn a bit more about dancing and that he would make a nice dance partner. It was quite nice until I felt too tired to move, so I made to go home. V accompanied me to the dorms, even though he would have to walk twice as much until he got home.
In front of the dorms I could only hug him and say good night.
We had connected on Facebook to keep in touch and talk about the dance classes. We decided we would go, but I wanted to tell him that I had no intentions whatsoever. I couldn't start something that I knew would end in a broken heart (for either or both of us) when I had to go home, I'm not the sort of person to start something that I know will end abruptly because of reasons that are quite foreseeable (me having to go back to my home country), unless I'm really caught up in feelings and stop caring about anything except this person in front of me. It was not the case. I was not really attracted to this guy, I had only met him a few days before, I wasn't about to go flying to the moon with him (looking back, I do find it quite cute that he just wrote to me that he understands and would be patient).
So we started going to the dance classes, every Tuesday evening at 7. The class would start almost at 8, but it was scheduled at 7, so we were on time and spent that extra awkward hour talking about lame stuff and sitting in a not really comfortable position in a chair that was a bit too small (him) or prancing about, 'warming up' (me). I would sometimes sit on the chair on my knees, looking out at the crazy huge pigeons that I miss so much (they were very large, but very elegant and beautiful and they would always be in pairs). We would talk about his rugby trainings (he had just started going to his training sessions again and in a few weeks I could see the difference), my foot pain (I still have no idea why my feet hurt once in a while, but at the time I would have cramps for days on end and I kept on dancing, despite the pain), his mom and the present he had bought her for her birthday (and the one that he had brought himself), my bead crochet (at some point I started bringing some beads on a string with me, to pass the time during that hour, I think sometime in April), books (his fantasy books and my children's books that I had gotten in an antique shop, full of funny and creepy stories that made him blush) and some other topics that I might remember if I tried hard enough.
The dance classes were lovely. The teachers were a pair of dancers who organize different events in Ostrava and they're young, energetic and passionate. I loved learning from them, even for that one hour and a half a week that we had with them. We had a lot of fun, laughing like crazy when we had to do something that seemed out of this world. Since we only had a few hours to learn many kinds of dances, we wouldn't practice the basic steps too much and we would get to more and more complicated step combinations. It was hard work, but I loved it and I felt so good, despite the pain in my feet, that I will remember those precious hours for the rest of my life with a smile upon my face.
We learned salsa (not sure which kind, but it really doesn't matter), samba, waltz (Viennese and English), merengue, bachata (actually, we just tripped while 'dancing' bachata, it's trickier than it looks), cha-cha-cha, rumba, jive and who knows what else. Oh right, argentine tango (haha, that wasn't tango, but you can't learn how to dance tango in 15 minutes). Of course, we only learned a bit of each and we could barely keep up with the rhythm (actually, he couldn't keep up with it, but we just worked with what we had).
After the dance classes, he would always say he was thirsty. After the first class we went to, he asked me what we should do. I didn't know, he was the local, so I let him choose. I let him take me wherever he wanted and he did not disappoint. We went to a local-oriented, obscure, underground bar in Poruba, quite close to the dorms, in the cellar of a block of flats. What was special about this place was the beer. They would bring beer from all around the Moravian region and beyond, having a maximum of six specials per night. When one kind ran out, they would open a barrel of a different kind of beer and change the specials list. My first beer there was one of the best I have ever tasted (I had one that was better, a few years ago, but guess what, it was also Czech). It was unfiltered, light and rich at the same time. That place instantly became my favorite place in Ostrava and for good reason. We returned a few times and every time the beer was something to enjoy thoroughly.
The funny thing is that when I was younger, I didn't like beer. No wonder I didn't like it, most Romanian beers taste like piss in comparison. They're bitter, bland and they look like yellow water. Now I do like it, but just like wine, I can't drink any shitty kind of it. I don't drink for the alcohol, I drink for the experience of wholeness that a good beer or a good wine can bring (color and transparency, thickness, flow, foam or bubbling, texture, taste, bouquet - smells that unfold as you taste, play with and then swallow a bit of the liquid). And this place has given me so many nice experiences.
On our second visit to Kurnik Sopa Hospoda, I learned how to count beyond 10 in Czech. It wasn't easy, but it was fun. We would draw and write on my notebook and sit close because there were many people and it was difficult to hear one another. Some other time we explored the map of the Czech Republic, talking about my planned trips and what's to see in the region, his grandma's cottage in a village that wasn't so close, some experiences that we've had abroad.
It was so fascinating to discover this person who was so complex and dedicated, so many things hidden from a first glance and even from many glances. I learned about rugby and decided to go to his team's match and I did. To three of them. In one of which he even played while it did not rain (that was one big win - crushing the other team with a score of around 70-0 and winning the cup for their league).
In one of our evenings out for beer, after the dance class, I decided that I should invite him to the restaurant dinner I had won at the raffle. What should I have done with the voucher? Ask one of the girls out for dinner in a Czech restaurant? It didn't feel right. So I invited him.
Besides the fact that I made him wait for one hour before we met to go to the restaurant, it was quite nice (it wasn't my fault that they cut the power in all the dorms for a few hours and I had no way to reach him and had no idea where he was because he had not given me a time and place for meeting before leaving home, but I still felt bad, even though I was the one running about between dorms in search of a bit of wireless internet that was working - no luck there).
We even used my dictionary (we would often use my dictionary for me to learn new words in Czech and him to learn new words in English). My portion was twice as much as I needed (I had chicken with a white sauce with mushrooms and blue cheese and... fries), so I had to take half of it with me in a box. On our way back to the dorm I managed to spill half the contents of the box into my backpack while jumping like a crazy kid because I was excited for some reason. That was not cool and I felt really stupid, but what I really like about V is that he never judged me. I felt safe to act stupid and take responsibility for my actions and fix what I had ruined (well, my leather Kindle cover can't be fixed, really, but at least I cleaned the Kindle itself, which got a bit of white sauce in the button holes...).
After the dance classes were over (they only lasted until the end of April), we would meet once in a while to go for a walk. One evening, after I had been the whole day on a trip to Koprivnice and the nearby lake and Hukvaldy castle, all red and literally giving off heat from my sun burnt sking, he asked me out. He just said "I want to take you out to dinner". I thought that was so funny. I'm not a 'fancy dinner' person, but I can't say no to someone so busy who has carved some time (a.k.a. didn't go to work that evening) especially for me. But since I'm really not a fancy dinner person, we couldn't do a fancy dinner, so we decided it would be pizza. Too bad it was Friday evening on a warm, late spring day, so all the places were full of people. So we had to walk for a while to get to a place that makes good pizza and was not full of people. Since I had been walking up and down hills the whole day, my feet were not so up to the challenge, so after a barefoot stroll through some freshly cut grass, we decided we would make better time by taking a tram. The trams in Ostrava are so lovely and well organized, that it was a breeze getting to our destination. We waited outside on a bench until our pizzas were done and we got so caught up in our conversation that he didn't even hear his phone ringing, for us to go and pick up our food. Finally, we settled on a bench next to a pond that was full of frogs, surrounded by tall trees full of bats. I was burning, the pizza was getting cold, the wind was also getting cold, the sun was setting and darkness was creeping in, the frogs were singing and he was there, next to me, a bit shy while both of us knew what we were feeling, but couldn't just express it...
I think I'll finish this story tomorrow. There's still so much left to write and I don't want to spend the whole day writing, even though it brings me so much joy, just remembering all of those moments that made my Erasmus trip so memorable. I'm so thankful for the chance to get to know this wonderful person, but I'm still caught in some kind of limbo. There are no regrets, just the weird feeling gripping at my insides when I know that I might never have the chance to hug him or touch his soft skin and make him giggle and show me that lovely smile of his.
Two days later I picked it up and finished:
Where was I? Right, I left it that lovely evening that I was burning up from all the sun that I had absorbed during the day, while shivering because of the cold wind and the thin dress that I was wearing. We returned to the dorm and I changed into something warmer (and completely devoid of any interesting detail) and we even went by Maciek's bye-bye party that he gave that same evening and I had said that I would participate, so I had to make my presence known. It was odd, our trip inside the dorm that evening. It was, I believe, the first time that he had been in my room. It wasn't tidy and there were beads everywhere (obviously). I showed him my necklaces (most of them weren't finished back then, they were just ropes of beads) and I let him alone in my room for a while. I'm not sure what he did in there, he must have felt a bit off. It was the same one floor below, at the party site, where everyone was overly expressive and partly drunk (it was a Friday, so the party would move to someplace on Stodolni, as always). He sat almost in the corner, while I did my rounds as quick as I could, refusing a drink here and one there from the very well meaning Polish girls. Think about it, I didn't even know their names. And it was their bye-bye party. And they were around all the time in my duplex. I just didn't really like them. Neither did he, it seemed like it, but he was there with me and had to play his part (he probably thought that turning into a wall was his part. oh well). After a maximum of 5 minutes spent in that intoxicating and extremely loud and bright atmosphere (my memories of that place are like overly exposed photographs. oh wait, there are also overly exposed photographs from that evening) and a minimum of 15 group pictures (in which I did not take part), we said our good nights and got out of there. There were still guys going to the party. I was just glad that I was with V and the party was not in our duplex.
We went for a beer. Literally one beer, I didn't want anything, I was way too tired to want anything and I was content just to look at him smiling and tell him silly stories. He usually talked and I listened, but sometimes I would be ranting about one thing or the other. I don't like myself ranting, so I would coerce myself into listening. I don't like to intrude upon people's ears and brains and time. I have no idea what we talked about, I just remember my butterflies (in the stomach, yes! not the ones in my workshop) and his smile and the fact that he tried to kiss me before going home for the night and the fact that I didn't let him. I was still thinking that I didn't want anything, even though it was quite obvious that I did want.
I'm a grown woman and can control myself (I've learned this the hard way), so I can say no, even when my whole being wants to say yes. That was the first time. The second time was when he had to go to work, after we had met in the morning and had gone on a really long walk around Poruba, exploring parks and a cemetery, the river and some streets, in the search for my bead shop. We also found a cherry tree on that day, but the cherries were green. Still, they were within reach and I had to have one. After all, cherries!! I love cherries. And he was nice enough to pick some for me and help me pick some myself, because he's lovely that way.
Of course, I had to say no (not literally say no, just shake my head) the second time as well. We were on the street, full daylight, no privacy. That is not my idea of an ideal first kiss. And I'm all for ideal first kisses (most of them have not been ideal, but I do remember them all and I would rather remember a really nice moment than a meh one). But the third time... nobody could say no the third time.
We went for a walk that evening. Our pub was full of people and, even though it wasn't dark yet, the terrace was closed. That's the law in the Czech Republic. No drinking outside after 9 o'clock in the evening. It makes sense, somewhat. So we had to search for another place. We had a bit of a walk through new places for me, behind the tram depot, by some weird buildings. We found pub that wasn't so full and got in. We had an unfiltered beer each, and he got himself a nice Czech meal (huge portions of everything). I only remember the really salty potatoes that looked like the ones my grandma would make on the stove in the countryside, except with tone of chunky salt. I finished crocheting my necklace (the first one in thin cotton string, gold with black) and we left. I took the receipt. Before getting out of the pub (which had on display various items of torture, including a spiky coffin), I took his hand. I don' remember exactly why, but it was such a natural thing to do.
It was chilly outside. We tried to walk side by side, arm in arm, but it just wasn't working. He had his backpack on and it just didn't work. We went by the cherry tree. Just a few days had passed since the last (and first) time we'd passed it, but we found a few almost ripe cherries. Their flavor was so rich and sweet. We walked a bit more, both knowing what was going on inside the others head. I just could make up my mind. We stopped and hugged. That was a long hug. I couldn't and wouldn't let go. I took off my glasses. Hugging a person a head taller than you with glasses on is a recipe for face bruises and bent glasses. It was dark where we had stopped, next to a small park, behind an old building, close to the tram station on the other side of the building. A person went by. Minutes went by. I had to surrender, there was no other way I was getting out of there. I was feeling dizzy, light, my head was floating, I was so high that I even got a bit sick. Such intense feelings are best reserved for when you are: rested, hydrated and generally in good physical shape. I was neither. But that doesn't mean that I'll ever forget that evening. Well, that was just the beginning. We went back to my dorm room because why the hell not, I'm a grown person and so is he and there's nothing wrong in sleeping with your arms around a dear person's fluffy, but discretely muscular body. Even though it was going to be a one of a kind experience and I only had three (or two? who knows? oh, i know, i have the little paper) weeks to enjoy it. Sometimes the best experiences come in small doses.
After that evening, we had time for just a few more experiences together. My favorite is the walk in the little forest next to the dorms. We got bitten by a gazillion mosquitoes and I had a box full of ripe cherries that I wanted to share with him. So he took all the bites, then we walked on, by the gigantic outdoor swimming pool that we didn't actually get to enjoy. He showed me where he lived on a local map, then took me an old shop where he used to buy tiny ice-creams as a kid and we each got one. It was divine. Not only because he was there with me, smiling his most precious smile, but because it was actually good ice-cream. The sun was scorching hot and we had left the shade of the cool green forest. He told me something that I'd never forget. "You have a big heart." "How do you know that?" "I just do". And that's it. We were walking down a narrow, grassy path between two gardens with old people tending some of their plants. The thin wire fence surrounding the gardens created a feeling of a confined, green space. We walked by the tram lines, down the main street in Poruba, Hlavni Trida, a street that I ended up knowing like the back of my hand. I wanted to find a present for my friend who loves food and the German language. We went to the antique store right next to the main street, a crammed little space full of books. My heart melted when he told me he had a favorite antique store there in Poruba. It was this shop, the one that I had discovered during one of my first trips in the neighborhood in February. He brought me some library stairs and I managed to drop a few books on his head and break his nose a little bit. He was used to it, though, what with all the rugby. I felt bad, but also so happy to have someone who loves books next to me, even though it was our last time together before the departure. He held the stairs for me, even though he didn't have to. He was sweet like that, which makes it even sadder to know that I had this person so close to me for so long, yet couldn't appreciate all that he was. I hadn't known. I loved him even more for that. I still do. He'll be in my heart forever, for everything that he is and everything that he did and all the lovely moments we spent together. For the walks, the beers, for the cherries and the kisses, for the hugs and all the dances he gave me and for all those cheeky smiles. I hadn't expected him to make it to the train station before we departed. I was so excited that he was there that I forgot to cry...
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