dimanche 1 juillet 2018
THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY APPEAR TO BE
(Moon peaking through clouds covering the Amazon, tonight)
At around 345 pm a very unpleasant sensation began all over my body. I always look forward to my trips and also enjoy the flights as well as the Lounges that go with it. But this journey to one of my favourite places, Leticia and the Amazon River, was not giving me the proper signals.
Even though I bill myself as the Homeless Jew of Havana, all my travels have a purpose, I very very seldom travel to sightsee or spend time at the beach or while away the time at bars or restaurants. I will make exceptions to Museums, lovely restaurants, good music and literature and of course mingling with the people, hopefully speaking in their language, during my trips. I have been to Siem Reap, where the archeological wonder of the world, Angkor is situated but without visiting the ruins but attending to other matters of anthropological interest. Same with Schwedagon Pagoda in Yangon. Don’t get me wrong I have visited both of these marvelous places many times and can act as your guide if you wish, but the attraction is not Angkor but Siem Reap, not Shwedagon but Yangon.
This was not a planned trip, in the last six months I have been to the Amazon twice and was not intending to go until later in the year.
A new acquaintance interested in travel to Latin America requested my presence and without much thought I accepted it.
I thought I would fit in a quick trip to Havana before going down to the Amazon today. While there, inklings of the trip to Amazonia going awry was beginning to surface. I wanted to stay longer in my beloved Havana, my moveable feast among my close friends who feed my mind, body and spirit. Reluctantly returned to Miami.
(my Ticuna friends)
We are unable to interpret symbolism, even if you are a student of Symbolism.
I do not yet know why the trip to Amazonia turned out like this but I am sure I will know that in a few days time.
My sister and her husband had gone out, we said our goodbyes. She called from the place and asked me to wait till they got home. I put the luggage out and saw their car pulling in. We greeted and said our goodbyes once again. They went upstairs to their bedroom and I called Car Share service to take me to the Airport. A friendly chap by the name of German, looking every bit a Venezuelan was to be my driver. He politely loaded my luggage into the boot of the car and that is when my phone rang.
It was my brother
Don’t go, he advised. I have never seen you so unhappy at the beginning of a journey. Usually you are so happy to go to the airport, go to the Centurion Club or Flagship Club and send us photos of the Champagne or Michelle Bernstein’s dishes. Just call the airlines and cancel the flight.
It took me only a few seconds to decide.
I am sorry German, I told the driver. I don’t think I will go with you to the Airport.