It’s not the tour guide who passionately shared his grasp of
the sculptures and paintings in the Vatican Museum that I did not understand.
Although he’s cute and passionate at what he does, his knowledge of
Michaelangelo’s painting in the Sistine chapel is not enough to make me write
about him.
It’s about someone whom I never expect to meet but who was,
is a definite welcome to a beautiful experience like Italy.
They say that you attract who you are. I say, indeed.
It started in a visit to a town center. He said hi, extended
his hands and introduced himself, took pictures of me and I suddenly found
myself walking with him. He told me about his university and the unique almost
eccentric rituals of its students. We passed a group which is doing the
customary humiliation of a graduating friend – a girl in her underwear being
poured with different sorts of liquids by her friends, in the center of the
town, despite the drizzling and cold autumn weather. He said it was worse for him,
for the guys. I thought of my university. We had similarly peculiar culture
that is only ours. We exchanged more about our lives in the university. And I
thought the conversation would end that way. But I knew there was something in
him.
I cannot bring myself to talk to him again. I can only
smile, from a distance. There is something about him that I would like to know,
and reach. There is something in him that might catch me off guard. But I
sensed some hesitation in his part. I chose to remain where I am.
Then, like a magnet, trying to resist an opposite pole, he
found me and got me drawn again. He had sudden interest in my passion for
gardening and agriculture and running a farm someday. It was unusual. I
thought, was he that desperate to strike another conversation with me? Or was
it just one of the classic Casanova ways of an Italian? He seemed sincere. But
I can never be quite sure. He was interested to know about my country and about
other things about me. But my force field was wildly getting into action. I was
the ultimate bore. I was not helping him. But still, he stayed and listened.
Until someone called him. And he became distant after that. I did not know what
happened to him. But all I knew was that Venice cannot be my favorite place in
Italy, even if it was so romantic at night - because of that.
I shook it off. He was just one random guy you meet in your
travels. I was trying to play it cool. But there he was again, in the club,
trying to dance with me. I am and will never be a party animal. Clubbing with a
group of people in a foreign country was already gutsy for me. And dancing with
this there-is-something-about-him guy was a challenge that I just cannot bring
myself to take. I didn’t want to lose my control. I had my reasons. And I knew,
by the look in his eyes, that my rejections offended him. I was too
conservative, too Asian. It may not mean as much to him but I was just being
too protective of myself. Or was I, really?
I did not expect him to say his goodbye. But still, he did.
He said he will miss me. And I missed him already after that.
I know there is a reason why I met him. There is a reason. I
realized that his hands are rough for a corporate guy. I later found out that
he is indeed a farmer by heart and practice, that his interest in my interest
is real. His stories and questions were not fabricated just to keep a
conversation. That’s just what Italian
guys are – polite and proper. His hesitations were indeed hesitations because
he is attached to someone else. L
Sad face, haha. He was not a full-blown Casanova after all.
…
I am writing about you because I want to thank you. Beyond
the attention and the brief conversations, I want to thank you for reminding me
that I am beautiful and special. I tend to forget that. Thank you for getting
me out of my comfort zone even for just a while. I need that. I need more of
that. Thank you for taking my pictures and sharing your stories. Capturing good
memories about a place and its people is the best proof that I had been there.
I had been to Italy. Thank you for your gentleness because I need to believe
that there are still men of gentle disposition around. And most of all, thank
you for reminding me that I may go as far as I want to go, but I will never
leave behind me my dreams and passion. They will always go with me. And even
for just that purpose alone, meeting you will always be one of the best things
that happened to me in Italy.
Grazie!
And I look forward to seeing that picture of your wooden
house when it’s finished. J
