I used to see her only once or twice a year. But I always
looked forward to the times that I might have a chance to see her. I never knew
when it would happen, so I was constantly on alert. You see, she wasn’t related
to the family I was living with, but with my friend’s family. I wasn’t at their
house all that often, so I had to try to figure out when she might be there,
and plan accordingly. It never worked out. I would only see her at random times
and no matter how many times I asked my friend about his cousin, he never
seemed to get the clue.
Well, now I live with this family. I’ve only been here two
weeks and already she’s stayed with us twice. I can’t help but wonder if the
frequency of her visits has increased since I’ve moved in. Who cares?
The first time I met her was at my friend’s birthday party
at his house. They sat me near the head of the table and then put her across
from me. She doesn’t speak English super well and at the time I didn’t speak
much of the local language, or at least I didn’t think I did. So our
communication was limited to smiles and awkward glances. But, the smiles were
abundant that night and have been every time I’ve seen her.
I saw her a couple times randomly around town or at my
friend’s house, but never at a place where we might again have a chance to talk.
That is not until the next year at my friend’s next birthday. This year they
sat us right next to each other and wouldn’t let her get up to help the women
do anything. They wanted her to sit there right next to me and the rest of the
women were content to do all the work and watch for anything that might unfold
between she and I.
I forgot to mention that the first time I met her, the
smiles, awkward glances, and barely understandable conversation between us had
been noticed by all the other female guests, who then took it upon themselves
to sit behind her and make comments about us all night. She couldn’t see them,
but I could see it all over her shoulder.
She wasn’t here this last weekend, but she was the one
before. The day she left was sad but also one of the best ‘old me’ moments in a
long time. She was leaving and I was going to school. We said good-bye, but
there wasn’t much else too it. After an hour or two at school, I came back home
for lunch and she was still there waiting for my friend’s brother (her other
cousin) to take her home to her village. It took them a bit to get everything
together and he pulled the car around to the front and honked for her to come
out. Everyone else was gone from the house. Well, everyone except the
bed-ridden grandmother in the next room, and she and I. I stood up from the
kitchen table to say good-bye once again and give her the culturally
appropriate kiss on the cheek. There was something in the way that we both got
as close to the other’s lips as possible that set me off and made me think if I
might have possibly missed a chance that will never come again.
Normally the kiss on the cheek isn’t even a kiss on the
cheek at all, but more of a ‘touch cheeks and kiss the air’ thing. But with her
it’s never been that way between us. It’s always been straight on the cheek.
But this kiss was on the cheek, but millimeters away from being on the lips. We
had been alone in the house and had either of us just moved a tiny bit closer
that kiss would have been a lot different. Maybe I might even be planning a
wedding that I was being forced into. Or I’d be working on trying to find a new
town with my program manager because I had been kicked out of this one. Or we
might have just had a passionate kiss in the aloneness of the house and no one
would have been this wiser. We’ll never know.
Though, I came home tonight to find her here again…
