As our footsteps marked a trail leading to crucifixion, he asked me to proceed with my story. A mild september breeze carried his words to my heart and blew my hesitation away. And i plunge into my memories again. A vivid vision of cabbie ’s eyes turning towards my little treasure in my lap, my little bag of fruits that my mom had prepared for me in the morning. I had watched her put grapes, pears, apples and although i knew i was not going to eat any of them, i let her do it and i held it dearly along the way until i got to cyprus. Cabbie politely but firmly asked me for grapes i realized he had been eyeing those grapes drooling over them along the way but never had the nerve to ask in Lebanon. As we entered his country, breathing the syrian air sent his confidence sky-rocketing, i handed him some of my grapes relentlessly. A couple of hours later, he decided it was time to rest but none of my cabmates was excited about stopping and cabbie finally admitted that he could not control his hunger anymore and needed to have lunch. We stepped into a small restaurant where he generously offered us refreshing drinks i asked for an orange juice to keep me alert after all i had a long trip ahead of me, then changed my mind and had a mixed fruit juice, it tasted a lot like black berry, i never really liked black berries before, i was a little girl with a big basket under a big tree at my grandparents’ house in the mountains bringing the basket slightly closer to my mom who was swaying from top of the black berry (“toot”) tree picking up the berries, my arms reaching out to her while my body curving as far away as possible to avoid the unforgiving red stains and whining about why it was me not my brothers who had to do this tough job. I savored my juice thankfully. Cabbie ordered some meat with onions and tomatoes that came in an old crooked pan. I stole a glance down at his meal twitching my lip wondering how it tasted like. He caught me looking, picked up a piece of bread with his unwashed fingers that had been rubbing against the old rubber car wheel for quite some time gathering various strains of germs. He made a conscious effort to gather a sample of everything in his pan and handed it to me. I gulped it instantly, unforgettable taste, praying that if any bacteria had participated and survived the war of grinding, saliva, antibody and acid attacks, it would have the decency to wait a few days until i was in montreal for payback. As i reached damascus airport, i bid cabbie goodbye but before we parted he managed to ensure a potential business deal the next time “no no don’t misunderstand me,” he said, “i hope beirut airport will be open next time you’re here, but just in case, call me.” I had not purchased my ticket to cyprus, i was tormented by having to fly that sunday night 11pm to cyprus and spend over 27 hours in cyprus airport waiting for my tuesday 3am flight to prague, i did not have a visa to enter larnaca and for that reason i had to suffer. After giving up on trying to find a flight with a more reasonable waiting time, i decided to buy my ticket. I already had a reservation but as the agent asked me whether i had paid, i could not lie yet tried my final weapon, smiling sweetly, “ no i haven’t paid yet but could it be that i don’t have to”, he smiled back and for a second i sensed victory, my heart skipped a beat it’s like these little guys pumping blood in my heart stopped to give me two thumbs up. My smile withered as i saw him turn to his ticket booklet asking his colleague about the price. I entered the waiting room, i was driven to a lonely bench on the side probably by his energy probably by a higher power watching over me but there he was my first guardian angel. I spoke to him he was a young lebanese guy a few years younger than myself. Our paths were converging for these two days, he too, was going on the same journey to montreal. He was calm and serene, i was loud and restless. His acceptance of the 27hrs waiting time in cyprus and the fact that another person, faced with this same time problem, thought about it and decided it was not the biggest deal, calmed my anxiety immensely and his constant peace along the way caught up with me infecting me soothing my fretfulness, making me believe i could do it, earning him my guardian angel title.
Cyprus airport, i looked around. The light was very violet almost blinding but i had to be alert, no reasonably comfortable bench in sight, only the cold metal, lifeless skeletons, i was longing for the warmth, i had to act. I decided to try and get in although i did not have a visa, it was impossible to get one in lebanon, the embassy had stopped accepting applications after the situation had deteriorated. The officer said no. i paused for a second, a million scenarios playing in my head, i’m trying to sleep in the airport 3, 4, 5 ,6... how many hours will it be before i start losing my mind, no sleep no rest checking my luggage checking potential thieves... another voice another officer flew by at that moment to inform about my problem, my second guardian angel? His fingers figured their way through my passport and he smiled as he saw my visa to czech republic. It was still valid for a day and for that reason he was letting me in for a day, a special case, due to the unfortunate circumstances paralyzing my country. I was ecstatic.
