Olive oil
YESTERDAY I TOOK the 0520 flight to General Santos. I hailed a cab to the airport at 2 am, immediately checked myself in, ate a ham-and-egg sandwich and drank a cup of brewed coffee (what was I thinking?), and I almost missed my flight because I was too engrossed with Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (John LeCarré, he's brilliant) that I didn't hear the announcement over the speakers. I will have a month-long break, and I'm spending most of it at home. There's nothing like hearing your mother wake you up in the morning to get a dose of early sunshine and your father urging you to go to the gym. The former I can do; the latter will probably never happen.
On the way I met a 30-something woman, an OFW from Cyprus, who was visiting the country after four years. I get a kick talking to strangers when I travel alone.
"They have the best beaches." Her eyes brightened up.
"How's the peace and order situation there?"
"It's not as bad as it sounds. It's peaceful where I live."
"The salads—do they taste that good?"
"Yes, the greens are always fresh, except during winter time."
"Do you stay in Nicosia?"
"No, but it's just a couple of minutes away."
Shocked that I knew a lot of things about Cyprus, she asked if I had been there.
In grade school I fell in love with geography. I memorized capitals, familiarized myself with flags of even the most obscure countries, some of them already non-existent today, and devoured age-old atlases that had accumulated dust in my grandmother's shelves after years of disuse. Maybe that was the reason I fell in love with reading: I felt like I could go places.
"No, but that's my dream," I told her. "A Mediterranean tour. I also want to visit Turkey and Greece. The limestone beaches. The sea . . . And olive oil."
I didn't get to say goodbye to her when we parted ways, but I hope she enjoys her time at home—as I most certainly will.
(Photo by v. plessky, 2008).
***
IT'S NOT Cyprus exactly, but I like the blue hue from there I stand: ah, tropical goodness.
(Photo by v. plessky, 2008).
***
IT'S NOT Cyprus exactly, but I like the blue hue from there I stand: ah, tropical goodness.
Labels: journal, photography
posted on March 14, 2013
2 Comments:
And doubtless you kept details in your encyclopedic brain. Ako I read a lot but my memory's like a sieve. Doesn't retain much.
Am happy you can enjoy a break, Lance!
slf
My memory is like that these days, too: a sieve. Kung kelan pa nag-medschool, eh!
Thank you, Ate, I'm enjoying my time at home. I don't want to get back to the "real world" any time soon.
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