“My wife” -the man slightly moves his head towards the window that overlooks the pool- “are abandoning me with the boy who’s with her right now.”
There are times when I think people perceive me as if I were a sponge where to eradicate all their emotions. There are even those who are looking for me to solve their problems. They see a free man, a nomad who seems has no preoccupations of everyday life; who don’t pays the bills nor does he have a family to feed. He doesn’t have a house or a car to maintain, no social or personal responsibility, as if he were literally living from the air. Someone who suddenly makes an appearance in the routine of others; who arrives without call or knocking on the door. And, he seems to be satisfied with what he has: a bicycle, a couple of trailers, a tent, kitchen utensils, a computer, camera, sleeping bag, a cell phone.
“How is it possible that I, comparing with you, who have everything you see and much more, I feel like I am suffering a lot from what is going on with me right now and, you, who have nothing, are not even worries about anything. How is that possible?” the man pushes his cup of coffee a little toward the center of the table. His disappointment is clear.
Sometimes I get the impression that I arrive to a house just at the wrong time or, perhaps, at the right time. What I called The Existential Juncture seems to be everywhere. Because as I don’t have enough money to travel with absolute autonomy, I must do occasional work in rural areas -such as harvesting grapes in vintage campaigns- or making my handicrafts on the streets of big cities, working in exchange for food and accommodation; all this connects me to people even though sometimes what I want is to avoid them. I often ask for something to eat, especially vegetables and fruits from the neighbors of small villages, next to those secondary roads that take me anywhere and nowhere. In the evenings, I usually ask permission to pitch my tent inside private properties, to get that feeling of safety and comfort when comes the time of quiet sleep. I am someone who arrives and communicates with others, especially with local firefighters or Town’s and Church representatives in order to get accommodation or place to set up my tent. This was the way I arrived at this estate in the northeast of France, near to the border with Belgium and, both the owners have been very respectful and courteous to me. I have been offered a cabin on the edge of the central hull, by the side of the fences that divide cereal crops.
“Well, I have my own dramas but certainly despite that, I’m very comfortable with who I am and what I’m doing,” I respond.
I observe the fun beyond the windows of the kitchen window, where there is a large table with two benches on each side. The lady, wife of the gentleman who is sitting in front of me, is dressed in a red full bathing suit. Her companion could perfectly be her son as I thought it was. I do like to see the joy, the pleasure, the satisfaction of women. I think when a woman is happy, everyone is happy.
“Omar, what can I do?” the owner of the house is about to sob. He looks like a victim of domestic abuse.
It reminder me a bit when I was selling my handicrafts in downtown Madrid, walking back and forth, offering my crafts to the people who were attending a show at the Teatro de La Latina. Handmade bracelets with a postcard that on a the backside contains the poem Desiderata.
Walk placidly between noise and haste and think about peace That can be found in silence As soon as possible and without giving up, maintain good relationships With all the people …
Many people crowded in a dark corner, away from the raucous lights of the theater’s canopies. It was about midnight when someone approach me and says, “You don’t know, you can’t imagine, what you just did for me”. In his right hand, the postcard and the bracelet I just sold him for 2 euros. He was high on something but clearly the poem has impacted him in some way. And me, not knowing what to tell him because, really, I can’t figure out in what emotional situation some individual are.