Viesti

Allaoleva viesti, jonka Puolalaiselle laitoin, kertonee suurimmilta osin kaiken sen, mita kirjoitustauon aikana on tunnetasolla tapahtunut. Toivottavasti englantini on edes jokseenkin luettavissa. :)

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Wow... If my life was a chapter in a lousily written chick lit book, it would probably go something like this:

Even he didn't know exactly why he had suggested trekking to the volcano at 3am. Practically it was the only way to do the trek as he had shown miraculous inability to plan anything when he was on the road. New ideas and sights just popped in to his head at the very last moment and knowing he would not come back for a while it was of uttermost importance to do as much as possible. Spending a good part of the night and the morning hiking to the altitude of about 2000 meters he was more than ready to sleep after a relaxing visit to the hot springs at the base of the volcano. Later that night and after hours of sitting in Indonesian makeshift buses, getting screwed by a rickshaw driver in Medan and loitering at a crappy airport waiting for his postponed flight he was starting to question the sense of tight traveling schedules and not having proper plans. Tired and hungry as he was he couldn't really think of any plans at that moment but instead opted on escaping to his thoughts. Thoughts, that often went back to one single person, whether he wanter it or not. At times it was just controlled daydreaming, done with pure intent to fantasize about the future or just to get a quick relief from the surrounding reality. It was pleasant but couldn't match the intensity of an uncalled realization that the sunset he was witnessing in an island on a remote place in South-East Asia or a delicious yet unrecognizable protein served in a skewer with a rich and spicy sauce would be something he wanted to share with her.

The illogically named "Polonia Airport" in northern Sumatra was a bit too obvious reference to her origins but gave him a good excuse to send her a message. To the other side of the world, as they both had problems just staying still and living a boring life, constrained within the borders of one city, one country. They had gotten to know each other when they lived in Helsinki and after she moved back he tried to spend every longer stretch of holidays with her. Somewhat foolishly he had flown to Warsaw a couple of times, surprised her by meeting her in Bucharest airport and even flown her in from Romania to his sisters wedding. He also arranged himself in to Riga for half a year to be just a night bus away from her, but of course he never admitted that she had had any influence on the decision. And by the time he actually got there, it didn't seem to matter that much anymore, at least to her. But he just couldn't let it slide and after spending almost a year apart he decided to visit her in her latest endeavor, a small Norwegian village near Oslo with not much more than a university, adorably small shopping center and endless amounts of fields and pasturage. They were friends by a mutual agreement and he adhered to that, even though he still had feelings for her. That's why it was hard for him to keep in contact with her occasionally, but the airport name felt like an innocent enough reason to suddenly think of her. He thought he had felt some desired change in their communication after the Norway trip but was still being a pessimist thinking it was all just in his head. Avoiding superfluous expressions of affection, he carefully signed the SMS with a laconic note "I guess you would have liked it as well".

Eventually the plane came and with the swiftness of a low-cost carrier the previous passengers were herded out of the plane and all the cargo was replaced in under 15 minutes. Flight was the usual and he filled the immigration card with a routine, passport number and expiration date already etched to his memory. No drugs, no plants, no H1N1, nothing to declare. He chuckled to himself in Kuala Lumpur airport as he saw the FLIR camera they used to track potentially ill passengers and remembered her total disinterest in his previous rambling about the greatness of one other exotic and expensive video camera. He smiled through the immigration and carried his backpack to the red Sky Express bus. In about an hour he would be sleeping in a packed, but quiet dorm.

...

After the morning shower he noticed that his silver necklace had oxidized badly and in retrospect it would have been a good idea to remove it before jumping in to the sulfur smelling hot spring. Live and learn. At the included breakfast table he found toast, local peanut butter, practically empty can of strawberry jam and stale Earl Grey to be the only edible substances left after a pack of frisky travelers had raided the buffet before him. He made a mental note about waking up earlier the next day but forgot it right away as he saw one of the resident cats, Ginger, lying on a black leather suitcase that had been - judging from the amount of hair - converted in to a feline dwelling a long time ago. Petting the orange and white creature produced the kind of pleased purring that made you feel like you have done well for the self-acclaimed ruler of the apartment complex. Leaving the cat behind he walked down to the three computers in the corner of a common room and picked the one on the right. With more privacy and a position right next to the fan it was arguably the best spot in the house. Knowing there was an email waiting from her he ignored Facebook and other time killing websites and headed straight to his e-mail account. As promised, there was a message from her and as usual, a slight warm wave went through him every time he saw her name in bold. The message started with mundane scribblings about student life but after the first paragraph the style and content changed. An ocean of emotions rushed through him, accompanied by a joyous crushing sensation in his chest and he understood why people talk of these things as matters of the heart. She had written down the words he had only dreamed about. Reading the message over and over again, as if to find some clue of sarcasm or a word that would leave room for interpretation, the endorphins just flowed in to his systems. They wanted the same things from each other. They felt the same way about each other. He could have written down the exactly same words about her.

They would meet in about two and a half months. After waiting for over a year already it was a time he could stand on his head waiting. She was worth the wait. Hoping not to wake her up he send her a message with his cell phone: "Your email is the nicest message I have ever received. Sleep tight, darling."