“Hello! Welcome!” He greets his new roommate. The roommate is terribly jet-lagged and quickly falls asleep. As he begins to get ready for bed, someone bursts into the room, “I believe this is where I’m sleeping.” He tells him that someone just moved in an hour ago and that he must be mistaken. The gentleman leaves only to come back and insists that it is correct. Three to a room. The time he has been quietly dreading has come to pass. He has had this room to himself for weeks and within the span of one evening, now has two roommates. He is annoyed with the unexpected third addition, but after sleeping it off and rearranging the room a bit, he comes to terms with it. By the third day, he notices an odor. He gives it some thought. He deduces that it isn’t the first fellow who bathes in cologne. It is the other fellow and this guy sleeps above him on the top bunk. He reminds himself that the smelly fellow is leaving soon. Sure enough, after a couple of weeks, the pungent roommate departs.Â
One day at work, he walks into the bathroom to discover local workers attempting to fix a urinal. This particular urinal has been out of commission since Thanksgiving. While the workers are talking to each other in their native tongue, they are looking at a power tool. He has never seen this tool before. It looks as if the workers are figuring out how to use it at this very moment. To avoid a potentially smelly disaster, he high tails it outta there. Fortunately, no disaster occurred, but the urinal has yet to be fixed.
He has been doing his best to stay fit. After being unable to get over the 5 mile mark, he’s finally able to knock out mile 6 then 7. He is sore but feels accomplished. Mile 5 was a mental hurdle he has been struggling with. After some thought, he realizes that this is the farthest he’s ever ran. He’s hopeful that miles 8, 9, and 10 are on the horizon.
One day while sitting at his desk, he turns to his co-worker and asks if he has heard the guy in the community bathroom who is constantly gagging while he is brushing his teeth. With eyes wide, his co-worker quickly pivots towards him in his chair and says, “Yes! What is it with that guy? I keep thinking he’s going to throw up. It’s so intense.” They laugh and share their experiences of hearing this random guy viciously gagging. He learns that many others have heard this person gagging with the intensity of a 600 horsepower engine with no exhaust. The legend of Gag Man. From that point on, him and his co-worker randomly make gagging sounds. UuuiiiccCCKKK!!!
He’s sitting on the roof in the shade while reading a book. After completing a few pages, he notices the sound of a lawn mower at work in the distance. He smiles at where the sound takes him. He closes his eyes. He is sitting in his backyard on a cool, breezy, weekend afternoon. The smell of someone grilling in the distance and freshly cut grass catches his nose. He can hear his neighbors mowing their lawns with kids cackling and dogs barking. It reminds him of home and of his ever approaching return to it. With a smile, he opens his eyes
His halfway mark has come and gone. It’s a bittersweet feeling. He has enjoyed plenty and understands the growing need to get back home.
Category: Observations
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2 comments on Peace in a Foreign Land 8
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The temperature has gone down and the sound of coughing has picked up around him. His two month mark and the day of thanks have come and gone. He is glad to have spoken with his kids throughout this period. The job is beginning to pick up and he is doing his best to absorb and minimize the mistakes. His circle of acquaintances is beginning to widen as much as his influence.
A regular cast of characters have accepted him and look forward to his dry and unpredictable humor.
One night, after washing off the leftover soap from shaving, he pats his face dry and looks in the mirror. He feigns a smile and notices something. He sees what looks to be the early formation of a new crease just outside of his mouth. He wonders what or who caused this new guest to arrive. Doesn’t matter now. He believes he’s becoming more distinguished. With the community restroom to himself, he says, “Well, hello there and welcome aboard.”
The roommate he has had since his arrival has left. He feels fortunate to have found a friend in him. The roommate was always out mingling with others. His mingling roommate afforded him an empty room for peace and contemplation. He will miss his absent company. He may not be so lucky with whomever is next.
Remnants of the calamity occasionally wash over him. He latches onto the theory of being too attached to an idea. The idea of someone (other than parents or kids) looking forward to his return from this foreign land. To detach from this idea he recognizes the need for new events, new laughs and new memories. The newness will force out the old. He continues to take on each day in singular fashion.
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The boom is what wakes him. It sounded close, but how close? How far? Was it real? What time is it? He checks his phone for the time. It’s early morning. The alarms and tsunami of text notifications fill the airwaves. He can hear feet and fumbling in the surrounding rooms. More booms then more texting. He waits. Finally quiet. Over the loud speaker, he’s given the verbal thumbs up. He decides to take a quick nap before heading into work. Upon arrival, he learns everyone is safe. He feels the population abuzz with leftover adrenaline. As the day progresses, the adrenaline wanes and a visible fatigue infects everyone. People are dozing off at their desks. He wonders if he will be infected next.
The boom has shaken loose a thought, “With the fragility of life, why waste time worrying about those who aren’t worrying about you?” With a ripe perspective, the thought is freshly planted. The boom is the new event he didn’t want, but needed. He feels a renewed sense of vigor. What more could the winter bring? -
“They better not be shaking my toilet.” His predecessor says with a smile as he chuckles in response. His predecessor spoke of a random sign seen during a previous deployment. In the women’s restroom, placed above the toilets, the sign read, “Please don’t shake the toilets.” After some questions about its origin (with no resolution), he suggests it can be used as a phrase for just about anything in particular. Some of his colleagues have picked up on the phrase and he smiles at the thought of his legacy being, among other things, a silly phrase.
Upon his arrival, he was told that he was a month early. He’s now beginning to see those that he began to get acquainted with depart and their replacements arrive. In just a few short weeks he will become the old timer. He sees it as an opportunity to spread the phrase.
A month has passed since his arrival. The pictures he sends home are met with how happy and healthy he appears to be. He appears as such because he is. He misses being a present father but is doing his best to stay busy and keep his mind occupied.
Changes to the menu have been in effect for some weeks now. Breakfast and dinner are hot meals while lunch is cold. Lunch consists of some sort of sandwich meat wrapped in a tortilla or a salad. One day, after joining his colleagues for cold lunch (he got the salad), one person asks another how their tuna wrap tastes. After giving it some thought he replies, “Skin… It tastes like skin.” They all laugh. He’s glad that humor is still intact here.
His predecessor left days ago. He’s enjoying interacting with those from other lands. He’s working on learning some of the foreign tongues. With the departure of his predecessor, he feels an added weight on his shoulders but nothing that he can’t handle or isn’t looking forward to. He’s finding his stride and is thankful for every step. “Let’s shake this toilet!” -
He’s sitting on a wooden bench listening to the gravel crunch underneath the feet of passerbys. The weather is lovely as the wind ruffles the branches of the surrounding palm trees. Thanks to a loud rain that bounced off the tin roof the night prior, the temperatures have dropped. More people are sitting out and enjoying the cool breeze.
Different people from different lands greet him as they walk past. The community is becoming comfortable with him as he is with them. He hears the call to prayer in the distance and wonders who will follow suit. He dives back into a book he just started and is pleased with its first few pages. With a subconscious fear of time being taken away, he ferociously reads as much as he can, whenever he can, wherever he can. A thought crosses his mind. He believes others review him as the pipe smoking reader. He’s amused at their perception.
He sees someone go into their quarters, close the door, and hears the Velcro from their vest as they remove it from their weary body. Everyone now wears vests but moods are kept calm by the cooler weather. A light breeze, velcro, and books are his peace for the foreseeable future, and he’s okay with that. It could always be worse. -
He’s on the island rooftop where as far as the eye can see in any direction are buildings, cranes and flags atop structures from other nations. Of course it’s another pipe session, and he’s managed to find shade that he hopes isn’t defeated by the moving sun. There’s a buzz in the air. It’s the day before a day off but there is some unrest in the area. People are looking forward to the time off but with heightened awareness. Local protests and movement could spell trouble. Folks are prepared with a watchful eye. Today’s air quality isn’t the best, but the cool breeze and clear skies make up for it. Despite the foggy horizon of the future, he’s still content to puff and people watch.
Since departing his homeland, he’s surprised at who asks and who doesn’t ask, “How are you doing?” He doesn’t take offense to it… Is only surprised by it. It either comes or doesn’t come from past marriage partners. The question either comes or doesn’t come from future or past flings. It either comes from short-term friends or doesn’t come from lifelong friendships. Are there agendas he’s not privy to? It doesn’t matter because he notices that the sun is on the move.
He continues to people watch and is interrupted by what it looks to be a wasp. Not sure what this wasp is upset about but it looks angry. It’s body is an amber red with yellow patches. He hopes to never encounter its sting.
His focus on the wasp is broken by crunching plastic in the distance. He looks and sees that a palette of water bottles has fallen from a forklift’s grasp. Like ants to sugar-water, people swarm the spilled water bottles to help clean up and to get the forklift back on its way. Just as they finish helping, the sun is beginning to grip his ankle. His shade is losing the battle. He empties the pipe in his hand, flicks the ashes onto the ground, and goes about his day. More to tell… -
The early morning sun is beating down on the top of his head and shoulders. He’s sitting in a smoking area enjoying his pipe, watching the birds bounce from roof to roof. He brought a book to read but is more interested in what he is currently sitting amongst… Calm.
He’s in a foreign land but in a familiar place. A place he hasn’t been in for quite some time. He waves the flies away from his lukewarm coffee and takes a sip. Not the best cup of coffee but the best cup of coffee with where he’s sitting.
He hears distant birds singing, competing with the radios from cars driving by. He remembers how simple life can be and how simple life should be. It was only made difficult when he invited the wrong company into his simple space. Somehow “simple” was too difficult for the company to grasp. He’s happy to have shed the weight of the difficult.
The people he knows a world away are just now going to bed, but he’s beginning his day. That’s how far he had to get away for the dust to settle from the calamity. The sun has finally moved on from beating down his head and shoulders. The difference in temperature is immediate. He’s traded in immediate sunlight for a landing pad for the surrounding flies. He takes another slow drag from his corn cob and gazes down the street.
Different lives from different worlds are amongst him and he couldn’t be happier. He’ll be in this foreign land until next summer and fall has just arrived. He will miss the birthdays of most of his kids and most of his parents, but he couldn’t be happier. He has finished his coffee and cleans out his corn cob. He begins to head towards his 15×15 room that he shares with a man from another land. His living space is smaller than that, but he couldn’t be happier. The stories he’ll be able to tell… -
I sit to eat and I see it in front of me
A couple, not mad but not happy
No words are spoken or looks of adornment
Just looks off in the yonder, is there torment?
Oh wait! The food arrives words are spoken
Is food what creates conversation like a token
“Too much salt.” he says, “I have high blood pressure.”
I shake my head in dismay and try to measure
How IN happy they are? How happy they AREN’T?
It looks like someone is after them with a warrant
How did they get to this place?
No talking. No looks at each others face
“Check please.” They’re done and get on their way…together
How together are they really? They look to be completely severed
This isn’t a couple, just two people sharing space
I wonder when it went wrong and when things changed pace