Christmas with E.

It is Thursday morning and I have arrived at Stuttgart airport. I walk out of the departures zone finding my way to the coach to Karlsruhe. Arrival time is when I usually think about time: no matter how passionate or impatient I am at the beginning or sad by the end of the trip, it paces carelessly and unconcerned to my world. I have forgotten to print out the ticket. The German speaking driver after matching my passport name with the one on his cell phone, let me get in. In an hour, which I passed it mostly in sleep, we reach at Karlsruhe central station. Despite the fact that the driver did call the stop name I am determined to ask again where we are but then I gave it up and turned back to hear a familiar voice calling my name. I saw E. in a purple jacket, kisses and embraces her; she is thiner and slimmer than a year ago. We took a train to her flat through the town. The look of the city had quite changed compare to last year same time. Refugees, many of whom speaking in my mother tongue from the neighbour country, were all over the town, in groups of young people in black jackets with their loud voices, almost shouting. The kind of language they use and the look of them suggested to me that they possibly are far from the values of this culture; rather in contrast and that it might take both sides long to come into a peaceful coexistence.

The day after we, E. her friend S. and me, went into town to have a tea in the Starbucks cafe. E. since few months ago, had planned to acquaint S. with me. I already had told her that am not necessary into marriage for the time being which was immediately responded by a shock that "what then are you after? no one is going to engage herself in something futile". "Quite right" I replied back. S. was as tall, or better to say as short and tiny as my sister. Confident and thoughtful; that was the first impressions I got from her. I felt too tired that day since morning; a kind of tiredness that every now and then comes to me without any notification, embraces me and leaves me helpless. To make any move toward the other becomes almost impossible. I withdrew to myself, hardly could talk or engage in any conversation. Though we talked for few minutes, when E. were off to toilet, on how long I have been living abroad. Later we walked about the city, in the Schloss and then departed. 

The next day we set off early morning for a three days journey with Munich as our destination. We decided to stop at Ulm first, a town in between, for a refreshment. The weather wasn't like late December at all. We found our way through old looking streets to a cafe which was named after Einstein as it is his birth place. The three omelets, all one type, came as a surprise. It was quick and in quite a big portion. It was also cooked differently. I ate half. We then walked along the river, which I have forgotten the name, that goes through the town. By the end of the day when we all were in our rooms in H2 hotel somewhere outside of Munich, they in one double room and me in another, I didn't feel any more close to her than a day before. Neither did see the possibility of it in the remaining days. Even the opposite sounded more like it. We possibly weren't quite fit for each other. The next morning at the breakfast time I found it hard first to take my head up, look at her and talk ordinary morning greetings. I was obsessed with myself; finally I managed to see the other possible attitude and asked whether she had a good sleep last night in which she replied neither of them had. The rest of that day was spent to see two art museums and one history of technology museum which due to shortage of time was left unfinished. I couldn't even finish the first floor of this multi-storey building. The next day we went to see a castle on Alps close to a village called Fussen. The navigator took us through a mountainous road. Beautiful sceneries. Through that day I felt less concern and willing to make any move towards S. And it was almost clear for me that she is not interested either. It was about midnight that we were back at Karlsruhe and at E's flat. 

On the last day of my trip, E. suggested to go to Heidelberg which got changed on the last minute to a closer town Baden-Baden. A small town that is famous for it's hot outdoor baths. It also has old narrow stoned streets suitable for tourists. (Meanwhile E. was determined to buy me a gift, perhaps a sweeter, which was confronted to my resisting to try any. She was annoyed.) A part of the town is built on the hill. And it was due to E. curiosity and persistence that we ended up on top of a hill at one far end of the city. The weather was cloudy. The rain had stopped. The hill with it's dense trees called black forest and the open green field at the bottom were amazing. On our walk to the top, E. said that she has changed in the last year, in the sense that "although work anxiety and all the rest are still there she no longer is concerned about them to the extend of being fully taken over by them constantly in past or future". Through the journey E. was occasionally wondered how things, like food or events, suddenly disappear. How an apple exists one moment and in a few minutes when eaten becomes non-existence: no trace of it is left in this apparent world, or at least in it's former shape. She was concerned about death I think. The death that is embodied in every moments. What she was seeing perhaps was the stream of moments continually dyeing in past and replaced by the coming ones. Or perhaps just one forever lasting moment that we live in and through it. 

Things and events do change, places change, even our 'self' changes. But there are times in which, despite all changes, we feel we always have been in one place, seated in ourselves, in this whole self.