Air whistle and train sound used to be clearly audible after midnight in my bedroom. The railway station was around 2 kilometers away, but the stillness of the night, low buildings and big empty areas in our calm neighborhood echoed the sound. By early 90s and with the insanely massive wave of construction and gentrification in the neighborhood, it became impossible to hear the sound anymore.
At one end of our street there was a big vacant square piece of land that we used to call the dump, although it was not exactly used by the residents of the area as a dump. Few bushes grew there and only one of them grew tall enough to be few meters high. The dump was the playground of the children of the neighborhood, but no one of us dared to cross it at night as there were stories about wandering ghosts. For many years the dump kept its name and its vacant state. Every now and then we would hear about plans set by the municipality to use it. Finally the construction started and the land was divided into two parts where a hospital was built on one and a residential building on the other. The area now turned into a big source of hustle and bustle. No one would imagine how calm and deserted it was many years ago.
A big bold man used to walk down the streets with a vending cart selling toys and candy. Young girls of 8 or 9 years old said whenever they bought candy from him, he would invite them to go to his home for more delicious candies. As cliché as this may sound nowadays, back then and given our ages none of us, boys and girls, fully understood what he meant. We only felt there was something uncomfortable about him. He suddenly disappeared from the neighborhood.
It was fascinating because it was the first cactus garden I have ever seen. It was not common to have a private cactus-only garden, and I remember once a magazine ran a photographed report on it. The garden belonged to a quite, classy, reserved and childless middle-aged couple. One day we heard they got divorced, and despite our good relation with them, particularly with the wife, no one could expect it coming. I remember my father and mother were wondering about the reason and the secrecy that shrouded the whole matter. After the divorce, the husband, who stayed in the house, almost severed contacts with the neighbors. He stayed there for awhile until he got married to a European lady and left. The wife moved back to her family home in a faraway neighborhood. She kept her contacts with us for few years and I remember once we paid her a visit in her old high-ceiled family house and I was impressed by the huge piano that dominated the entrance of the living area. Life and its burdens drifted us apart and we lost contacts with her.
An Arabian Jasmine shrub, Bougainvillea tree, two Mango trees, orange and guava trees, a line of 5 or 6 Casuarinas trees and a grapes vine all grew in our garden. A small mulberries tree grew for many years as well but then died bit by bit. Later on, a palm tree and a cactus were planted next to each other in the small front garden. The cactus grew to be as tall and huge as the palm tree which was uncommon to the cactus that grows in our region.
Sometimes I could hear my parents talk in the middle of the night. We, the children, were supposed to be asleep, but in the summer heat and with the old and now-lost confident feeling of security, windows and doors were left open to let the night breeze in. I could hear, although I did not always understand what or whom they were talking about. Once, they mentioned about someone and his demons. I wondered if everyone had his own demons and how the person could live with them without fear. I felt scared that my demons might come up to me someday and I got myself totally covered under the bed sheet lest they come up.
