The Burdish soul

When I opened my eyes I felt as if I had come back from a trip to Hell, emerging at last from the worst hangover of my life. The vividly horrifying images of my nightmares had left a bitter taste in my mouth and a very sad feeling in my heart. That was the cathartic process I went through before my memories finally found back their place in my mind.

I was naked in bed, covered with thin silk sheets and soft blankets, wrapped in semidarkness. My waitress outfit was carefully folded on a chair. Ed was sleeping on the couch, right in front of me. I had the feeling that he had been right there beside me from the beginning of time, long before I had drunk the sorcerer’s potion.

I didn’t dare wake him up, but I felt I had to let him know that I was myself again. So I got up, gently laid my hands upon his chest and kissed his forehead. He opened his eyes slowly.

- Good morning, honey. How do you feel? –he asked-

- I feel good, thanks. –I answered-

- Tell me … can you remember your name?
- Yes. I remember that my name is Leni Qinan, but unfortunately I forgot how to play landlord and maid. What about a refresher course? –I laughed-

- We will play again naughty games very soon, Leni. Let me now enjoy the pleasure of having you near me. I thought I had lost you forever and I need to know that you’re not just a dream.

He was happy, but not in the mood for jokes. I carefully unbuttoned his shirt, straddled him and rested my head on his shoulder.

He enfolded me inside his big leather jacket, wrapped his arms around me and we stood still and quiet for some minutes, skin to skin.

That day I learned what the Burdish soul was.

The good people of Burdishland have endured terrible hardships over the years and borne historic burdens with endless patience, just as they regularly stand the adverse effects of extreme climate, which pretty obviously has an influence on their reserved and shy character.

The average Burdish men and women are quiet and formal; attentive and disciplined. Unfortunately, they don’t much like strangers, as I had been able to notice myself when I visited the country. I felt rejected and ostracized. I've been considered an outsider, an alien, a gaijin, treated like a stranger in the most offensive and derogatory sense.

The Burdish people inherently lead a sad existence: it has long been argued by historians whether or not Burdishland is to blame for causing the major disasters that the world has suffered, resulting in war, death and age-old hatred. But whatever the controversy conclusions might be, the Burdish quietly bear their cross, remaining firm under suffering without yielding, still knowing they will be blamed for ever and ever.

The Burdish are not exactly warmhearted people, but they are emotionally honest. They don’t fake what they feel, which makes them look sometimes harsh, sharp or even rude.

Their language is discouragingly hard to learn; but underneath that barrier and their apparently unyielding temperament, the Burdish people hide a strong sensitivity. They are devoted, committed, sensible people, but unfortunately they seldom show their emotions. Only penetrating deep into the intricate ways to their soul and finding out the exit from that labyrinth, they can become very lovable and endearing.

How do I know all this? As a Southerner who easily laughs, cries and blows up pretty fast, but goes down just as fast, I had to overcome my impatience and take the time necessary to find my way to Ed’s heart. In the core of his essence, and scratching deeper than the surface of his identity, I knew that deep down he was capable of affection and intense warmth in spite of his apparent coldness and lack of feeling.

Rather than just an ordinary Burdish citizen, he was a complex man still in touch with his zeitgeist and mysterious past. This added an irresistible magnetism to his personality.

I had seen him embracing the dark and falling in endless melancholy pools. No human force could drag him out of the blues; he refused my offers of help. He had to overcome it by himself, seeking shelter into his infinite loneliness. But time healed his wounds. And at that precise moment, time was healing a very bad one: extreme fear of losing someone he loved.

So there I was, all naked in the arms of that Burdishman who had been getting on my trail for months and had just found me.

- Don’t ever do that again. -he said-

- What? -I asked-

- Disappear. Promise me you won’t.

- Promised.

- I have something for you.

- Great! I love surprises!

He showed me the wonderful diamond ring he had given me some months ago, when I travelled to Mawi-Mawi.

- You threw it in the well of my house, in Burdishland; then you pawned it in Grytviken. I found it and redeemed it for you. There you go, it’s all yours again.–he said, putting it on the palm of my right hand-

How typical of him to understate his feelings. I always thought that such a beautiful diamond ring should go together with a love proposal.

In my country -the South Sandwich Islands- when a man declares his love to a woman, she expects him to kneel down and tell her that she’s the sweetest woman on earth; that she has a certain je-ne-sais-quoi that makes her unique and special; that he can no longer live without her. At home, this is what we call to be clear.

Well. Each to his own. I wouldn't be discouraged so easily.

- Oh, thanks. What am I supposed to do with it now? -I asked-

- Whatever you want. -he calmly answered-

- Maybe I can pawn it again. I’ll surely need some money when I’m home. I’m now unemployed, you know?

- Leni, I’m not the genie in a magic lamp that you can call as you please to ask for three wishes. I won’t get you the ring back if you pawn it again. If you’re too greedy you’ll end up with nothing. Buddah said: "There is no fire like passion, no shark like hatred, no snare like folly, no torrent like greed".

- Oh, Buddah. You knew him? –I asked, laughing-

- I’m old, but not that old, silly.

Excellent. He was in a good mood again.

- Please tell me what is it you want me to do with the ring. -I asked him seriously-

- I've already told you: you can do whatever you wish. -he answered in an undertone-

- Wrong answer. But I feel generous today and I’ll give you a second chance: please tell me, what is it you want me to do with the ring, Ed?

He laughed, but didn’t answer.

I looked in his eyes and asked directly:

- Would you like me to wear it?

- Yes. -he answered-

- Does it mean that you love me?

- No. It means that I hate you.

I couldn't help wondering whether he was speaking seriously or just joking.

- I hate you like I never hated before in my whole life. I hate you to the top of my strength and more than my words can say. This ring means that I don’t want to wake up in the mornings and see your face beside me; that I don’t want to make love with you; that I don’t want to take care of you for the rest of my life; that I just hope you hate me as much as I hate you.

Touché.

He put the ring around my finger and stared deeply into my eyes for a seeming eternity without even blinking. I couldn’t resist his gaze, but I wished with every fibre of my being that I could melt into him.

- I hate you too, Ed. More than anyone else in the world. –I whispered, smiling-

"Can't take my eyes off you" (Muse)