Day Hundred Sixteen

While everyone's posting

wishes

for Mother's Day

in this

geographical region

of the world,

I have one thought

at the end 

of the night.

.

I wish my children

don't talk to me

if I'm 

doing them harm.

Not to punish me 

but more so 

to save themselves

.

The aspiring healthy mother

in me.

Day Hundred Fifteen

One week

anniversary

at this place

and things have become more familiar,

the people more intimate

and the routine more workable.

Never thought I'd

jump 

into this 

capitalistic regime

so fast

and enjoy it

so soon

but here we are.

And when the going

gets tough

I think 

of the time that I'll 

be going,

travelling.

I really do

look forward to

this summer.

It has a lot to offer

and I'm sure

it holds many

surorises.

So cheers

to the people

who work summer seasons

in countries

where summer seasons 

are high

and make holidays

of summer travelers

a joy.

Day Hundred Fouteen

Back to work

and the anticlimax

has hit me.

The day off has brought more heaviness

than the tiring days at work have.

I wonder why

and I stay quiet

as the hours go by.

A group of three friends

walk into a bar.

Into our restaurant.

Actually one didn't walk in.

He rolled his wheelchair in.

And, being anticlimactic

as I was,

I try to be enthusiastic

yet not fake

to get an order from them.

I pay no attention

to the wheelchair

apart from 

the person on it.

He is

enthusiastic

and can see 

a certain worry in me.

I hope 

he doesn't think

I've been affected by

his special situation.

In fact

I find his wheelchair one of the coolest I've seen

and him, also.

The intrigue continues

as I serve the beers

and I can feel

that he can feel me.

He raises his voice

to raise the vibration,

I guess.

'THAnk yOU!'

I lower it 

smoothly.

':).. you're welcome'

in this way to show

my awareness 

of the

certain saddness in the air.

I still wonder

what it is.

The guys have their beers 

and 

head off.

I'm cleaning the bar

outside

and with the corner of my eye

I catch the two guys 

talking as they wait for the rest.

The special guy

seems to be expressing 

why he's sad

and the other guy

affectionately

touches his cheek 

and hugs him

by pulling his head

with his hand

towards his

standing body.

I make eye contact

with the special guy.

I smile empathetically;

he does too.

And it remains a mystery

whether he thinks 

I've seen his sadness

or whether he has seen

mine.

Day Hundred Thirteen

First day off

for the season

and I make separate lists of what

needs to be done.

I do

some chores

in a chilled pace

and decide to go out for food

and blogging.

I see the bus

passing by the bus stop on the main road

as I'm walking three minutes away.

It starts to spit 

and I'm asking the universe 

'please don't make me hate you today'.

I have a fear of being out in the rain

with no car.

It makes me feel helpless.

And it started in England

in terrible

terrible

cold rainy

weather conditions.

I snap back

what's the worse that can happen

I'll walk back home.

I get to the bus station.

No rain.

A small

confident

girl

walks by

in model mode

in her mum's peep toes

and loudly says hi to me

as she walks past.

I confidently say hi too;

appreciating her girlhood.

A surreal moment there before I take a selfies

for social media purposes.

I get to the pub.

'One table..

for one,

please'.

It's an English pub

with nice jazz music

and it ironically makes me miss the UK.

Dark brown 

wooden tables

and burgendy carpet floors.

I pick a corner where I can sit away from 

the football fans who will arrive to watch the football later.

To my right, diagonally

three British girls

considered overweight

talk about smoothies while having beer

and while waiting for

pub food.

And I'm not judging.

I'm observing life and its

beauties.

The effects of social pressures

and that

the moment you set yourself free;

you become very detached of needs

such as the need to diet.

..more so because social pressures

are what made you overeat 

in the first place.

Brocolli soup is amazing.

Day Hundred Twelve

Returning 

confidently to the workplace 

where the shift starts easy 
and gradually gets a little busy.

I can see in myself

and through the responsive vibes

of customers

and coworkers 

that I'm doing something right.

There are of course, 

some people who like to enjoy their meal 
without any further interaction.

This is how I thought 
the old Finish couple wanted to enjoy theirs.

Yet I kept returning to their table,

to ask where they are from

or to serve them strawberry margaritas.

The lady then suddenly removes her sombrero 
and gives her phone to her husband. 
She opens her arm and I reach to ask how I can help.

She drags me into her arms and holds me for a picture. 
I become so overwhelmed as we share 
a love- filled moment of non-verbal affection.

The day continues with more 
fun Scandinavians and Russians coming in.

At some point a Brazilian- looking woman arrives 
with her family of husband and  two sons.

I ask if she is Brazilian, 

as last night a Brazilian woman had said I look Brazilian.

She tells me she's from Palestine.

A bell rings in my head

'Do you speak Arabic?'

'Of course!'

'Ana kaman [me too]'

'Walla! Mn wein nti? [Really! Where are you from?']

I explain I am from Cyprus 
but was in Lebanon and spent time in Shatila. 
She is a bit shocked. 
She tells me 
she has friends there 
and that it's an unsafe environment for them. 
I tell her 
I agree and that even politically 
what's happening is terrible. 
But that the people there are very, very loving. 

We share a compassionate blink

and I proceed to take orders.

I feel the conversation hasn't been completed

and I wish I could speak Arabic for longer.

I'm carrying drinks

thinking of this crazy coincidence

and where I was

and where I am

and that this coincidence should appear like that

on a Wednesday;

a Shatila day. 

Day Hundred Eleven

Another bus ride

awaits

as I make my way to the bus stop

with an apple in my hand and

pieces of it in my mouth.

The bus arrives

and the bus driver speaks to me 

in English.

I respond to him in Cypriot.

He takes a second to decide 

whether

he thinks I'm Cypriot

or just a foreigner who 

has learned the language well.

'One fifty please';

was the last thing he said.

The bus starts moving and I sit.

I sit between Romanian, Bulgarian and Russian workers. 

Amongst us are some English tourists

and you can tell 

who's on holiday 

and who's not.

A Russian lady

is on the phone

complaining 
in Cypriot
about the long working hours.

I feel empathy.

Taking a bus ride that takes an hour,

for the distance of fifteen minutes,

isn't something extremely pleasant

if you're on your way to work

every day.

I consider getting a motorbike.

Then again,

I haven't driven one before.

I consider getting a car.

Then again,

I haven't got the funds for it.

This starts frustrating me

but I'm in a good mood.

I am a worker

just like the other workers.

I will take the bus to work

because at the moment it's my only

means of transportation.

30 minutes to go.

Day Hundred

Platinum Anniversary

for 100 days 

of blogging today

and only half

of the amazing

experiences I'm living

have been recorded.

In fact through blogging

I realise how amazing life is

as it puts 

a reflective element

in every day.

Just like today

for instance,

where blogging 

wasn't even part of any

thought process 

at any part of the day.

Today

we set off for the beach.

Protaras

is the land of 

promised paradise.

And on a good day,

between May and October,

it is.

But today is 

windy April

and Fig Tree Bay

has red flags on;

something I haven't

witnessed before!

Gregg asks if people

surf

and I had said

there are no waves.

Yet here we are,

standing before

a wavy Fig Tree Bay.

We move to the other

side of the coast

where it's less windy.

Gregg and Alex

go for exploration 

of the cliffs,

and Hanna 

sets her tanning game on

while I get the colouring book

the girls have bought me 

out.

I'm using some markers 

I got from the hostel

and I still wonder

if they were Sawsan's 

and if she had left them there

on purpose.

The sun

is fun

and I've missed it.

Right on time

as I finish colouring

the guys come back and

hunger strikes the group.

We set off for food.

In our lil car

with our lil familyyy.

We finish eating

gyros

right in time

for the sunset

and arrive 

at the rocks I've been

eagerly wanting to take

everyone at.

It's actually Alex's 

birthday today

and though we haven't 

been making 

a big deal

about it

this is like a gift moment.

The view is amazing 

and we have all shared

a space for ourselves

and for each other

during the long

but instant

moments

we have been there.

The time seems 

inexistent

and not even

the sunset

triggers

any sense of

movement.

We are still

and grounded.

We start to play

a tribal game

of stakkado 

singing

of repetition

of repetition

of any phraze

of any phraze

and any sOund-

and any sOund-

as the night faaa'alls

as the night faaa'alls

N we just bond 

N we just bond.