Wednesday, December 9, 2009

One week in Honduras - Chapter three

The next day I woke up and I had such a strange feeling. I was feeling good and smiling. I was stretching myself when I noticed he was there, standing at the front of my bed.
What the hell was doing here? How could he enter the house and go to my bedroom?.

– ''Good morning! We have a lot to do'', he said with a big smile.
– ''A lot to do? What are you doing here?'', I asked him.
–'' I came to help you''.
Wait a minute .
- ''Help me what?'', I asked
- ''To change your life'', He said.
My life? What could he know about my life? That was too much. He was invading my space and my privacy. I couldn’t do anything about it and I was curious so I got dressed and went with him.

He drove for about 30 minutes.
– ''Where are we going?''
He didn’t say a word, he just smiled, no one could have that smile, nothing could compare to a smile like that, not even the sunset.
We arrived to a beautiful place, like a hidden paradise. Some people came to welcome us.

- El doctor llegò¡, El doctor llegò¡.
A little girl was shouting. The doctor is here she said. Doctor? Is he a doctor?

– ''This is my home and this is my family'', he said to me, smiling. I couldn’t believe these people were his family, of course he was saying that just because he had
a special feeling for them. I was trying to smile and not show my nerves, everyone was smiling and touching me, as if I was a new toy for a child.
– ''Can I know what are we doing here? What I am doing here?'', I asked impatient.
– ''I don’t know, Why did you come with me?'', he asked.
– ''Because you brought me here, you were in my bedroom and told me to come'', I answered immediately.
–''OK then, you came because you wanted to please me''.
This man is crazy; he was reading my mind or was he playing with it?
– ''I have to go back to my house''.
– ''Help me here, please'', he said looking straight to my eyes and holding my hand.
Those eyes were like windows , I could see he needed me there, and that I needed to please him
We stayed all the day, playing with the kids,helping to cook, curing their illnesses.
I never did any of this in my life. I did not serve anyone or help. I was the one to be served, but ironically I was feeling good, useful and thankful to that man for appearing in my bedroom that morning and for bringing me here.

He gave me a cup of coffee and said:
– Do you know why I am here?'', he asked.
– ''I have no idea'', ''help people!''.
I never liked guessing games and I was impatient, but I couldn’t resist my curiosity about this man.
–''I am here because I feel alive''.
I was speechless, that man, standing in front of me, told me something that I did not want to hear.-“Is this the only place where he feels alive?'', I though.
I went to that place to do the opposite, I wanted to end any kind of hope or expectation, I did not want someone telling me that. The last thing I needed was a positive thinker.-''I feel the way you are feeling now'', he said without looking at me.How could he know how I was feeling?. He didn't know anything.I was there to do things at my way, I started feeling uncomfortable, because the situation and because his words.
- ''I have to go'', I said and then started running very fast, he called my name but I did not pay attention , I was just following the car tracks. I was exhausted, I sat down in the sand and after some minutes the sound of a car engine brought my senses together and my breath back.
– ''You can’t keep running away, you have to face your fears'', he said.
– ''You don’t have any idea what my fears are, you don’t have a clue how my life is and who I am, so please step back and leave me alone'', I said with a very bad attitude.
He said nothing more and drove away.

Finally! I was alone, I started walking again and as much as I wanted to see the car coming back and Jack rescuing me, looking and smiling with that smile that paints his face, , he didn’t come for me.

I arrived at home at night: tired, dirty and feeling so bad and guilty, not for the effort that I made, but because I felt I had just wasted the last hope to recover my life , destroyed by my own critical way to be.
I was devastated, he did not deserve the way I talked to him. He was just being nice.
He was just trying to help me, but how could he help me if he didn’t know what was happening with me?

I went to bed after taking a shower, lying there looking at the ceiling, hearing the singing of the owl outside, some tears running down my face. I was not sure why I was crying. I held my pillow so hard, trying to squeeze out all of the pain and anger I was feeling.
During the night I opened my eyes waiting for him to be there again at the bottom of my bed, but he wasn't there.

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