Gökçe ErbilDear passenger*,
Once you vanished behind the doors of the airport, all doors turned into walls. A second ago I could do everything, now everything I do, I say hit a wall and fall. A hugproof, kissproof, soundproof wall between us. How much pain is too much pain, I wonder. And how to describe too much pain? For many years I asked myself what is a language? Many think that it helps to understand each other. Very sceptical about that. Maybe it works for communication but understanding? While we discuss I barely understand some of the things you really care. If it’s been only talking I wouldn’t be able to understand you at all, even though we share the same mother tongue. I understand more from your eyes, hands. Communication vs understanding, talking vs telling.
Your back, smiles me sometimes. Tells a lot of other things other times, like a face at your back. Calmness, joy, anger, hatred that is reflected by your Dimples of Venus, the twin indentations at the base of your spine that I discovered in a painting by Gustavo Coubert. I didn’t know that name and roots painted by Gustave Coubert.
You’re on your way to the end of the world, well almost and there’s New Zealand too. It was hard to love before the virus. Now it’s harder. If it all works, I need a white linen suit and a white hat incase if I would be able to come to (or welcome) you.
* To the passenger who chose to walk with me, this is your very first call on board to an unknown destination. Hopefully a beautiful** one.
** Since “beautiful” falls short to describe you in anyways, I owe us a new adjective.
NOTE: Many thanks to Emily Beyda for reviewing and editing.