In The Army Then (6)

"We went through days that were darker than this black color" and he pointed at the black background of the name plate fixed to the office door.  He was talking about the war that broke out in 1962 and lasted few years. My heart clenched. I knew his life was not easy, so then to say he witnessed darker days meant something really gloomy. He did not seem distressed though, he said it in a matter-of-fact way. Lieutenant F was in his mid 50s and quite popular in the base. He had this calm wisdom that, I guessed, came from experiencing hard times. He liked to talk about his memories and I liked to listen. Being diabetic did not prevent him from smoking, and that was the only inconvenience about him, but then at that time smoking in closed areas was not a big deal. I was assigned to work with him after I terminated my initial 6 month training.

My military life entered an easier stage with a newly assigned clerical job. I had to translate articles from international magazines like Time, Newsweek and The Economist, but best of all I was instructed to work in the library which meant thousands of accessible books in my free time.

It was during that period that my relationship with this group deepened. My friend M was just few floors down and we could meet, talk and laugh whenever we had a chance.

In the base, there was time almost for everything; work, gossip, fight, laugh, romance, match-making and maybe even sex, like that long-standing rumor about a female officer who used to spend a lot of time in the office of the HR officer for allegedly unprofessional reasons, or that recruit who was also rumored to be willing to pay for hungry soldiers.

After 5 o'clock everything became more relaxed. Those among us who had no private accommodation in the city and had to live in the base were moving freely, and songs from the radio were coming out and loud from different corners. The hit songs of that period are still strongly associated in my mind with those long-gone days.

I do not remember who told me, few years after I completed my service, that lieutenant F. passed away from diabetic complications. Whenever I recall him I mainly remember that black background of the name plate and his blacker days.

Before Sunset

Something made us joyful but I did not know what it was exactly. The view of the grey ocean from almost a 300 meter high green cliff? The music played by a group of young men that had an oriental flavor (or it might have been my homesick imagination that listened to an oriental touch in it even if it was not there)? The cloudy but pleasant weather with a delicious cold quiver in the air? I do not know what made us joyful. 

Then we started to talk about what we wished for 2013, and what we liked and disliked about 2012. Yes, in that order although the opposite would have made more sense.

I got distracted, as usual whenever the slightest chance of distraction appeared, but then the chance was not in its slightest degree. Joggers, bikers, dogs, skaters, strollers, locals, foreigners, vendors, lovers, children and even the invisible sun was quickly taking its way back home. 

I thought all the pieces were almost there. What was missing was minor, or if it wasn't minor it was nevertheless replaceable. Was that the real reason behind the joy I felt and imagined that the others felt too? "But he is not listening" someone looked at me. I asked what was it, and they all looked at me and laughed. One volunteered to explain when a small yellow ball slowly rolled over close to me followed by a 5 year old boy running. I picked it and gave it to him. One of our group imitated a child's voice (as convincingly as a drag trying to pass for a woman) and said "Thank you, mister". The mister smiled and asked again "What was it?"

Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!

Emily Dickinson

Trees

Bougainvillea:

Falls of passion.

Memories of early years in the terrace of my family's house where 

a huge tree with red flowers stood and witnessed the different colors of our days.

Every time I see any of its different vivid colors I think I found my favorite color.

Palm Trees:

Poetry. Culture. History. Religion. Elegance.

Companion of life.

Mostly attached to my countryside memories where endless 

lines of trees grew on the banks of the eternal river.

Araucaria…Norfolk Pine Tree:

It was always where the sea was.

Majestic.

We met in a later stage of life and I immediately fell in love.

Now it is always here whenever I turn around.