Finding Joy

by Adriana Herrera

  God, it was good to see her face.

  From where she was sitting I could see the back of her leather couch, which she’d saved for like, six months to buy. Behind her were rows and rows of books in white bookshelves. Her curls were an unruly mess, and she was wearing a T-shirt that said Flexin’ in my Complexion. I could see her Kindle and a huge cup of coffee, probably decaf, sitting in front on the table.

  Luce and I had met the first day of ninth grade the fall after my dad died. After he passed away my mom decided to move to Ithaca in Upstate New York, where my dad’s parents lived. We’d always been close to them, and back then she needed the support.

  Lucía’s family lived just two streets away from us. We were both only children, and hung onto each other for dear life through everything. Her parents were also one of the few Dominican families in Ithaca, which sealed the friendship between us. We both stayed in town for college, but after graduation Luce went to Seattle to get her master’s in nursing and later settled in New York City. In the four years since we’d finished college, I’d used DC as my home base, though I was barely there. After years of living so far apart, these Skype sessions were old hat for us.

  Lucía was my best friend and I loved her, but she never, ever sugarcoated the truth. Which made me reluctant to share my instant fixation on Elias. I was kind of embarrassed, because I’d known the man for a day. I had no idea what kind of person he was, and I had basically turned into a cliché.

  “Ayo!” I jumped, startled by Lucía’s voice. I must have been doing my “in my feelings face” as she called it, because she tilted her head and stared at me with a frown before asking, “You call me and then just sit there in silence. Did something happen? Are things not working out with the job?”

  I shook myself, trying to act normal before she caught on. “Everything’s fine. It’s been great so far, actually. This place is amazing,” I said, running my hands over my hair, feeling exposed again. “It’s so weird being here as an adult and on my own, because some things feel so familiar. I know I couldn’t possibly remember much from when I was a baby, or even from when I was six and we were here for those few months, you know?” I confessed, genuinely puzzled by the jumble of emotions that had been coursing through me from the moment I stepped off the plane.

  “I bet,” Luce said, still looking at me like she wasn’t sure how to read my mood. “It’s got to be wild in many ways, and sad in others. Especially because your mom always speaks of her times there like they were the best years of her life. It’s sad that she doesn’t feel up for a visit while you’re there. Speaking of which, have you called her?” She gave me a pointed look, like she already knew the answer.

  “I haven’t,” I said, hanging my head. “I will first thing tomorrow, though! I need to be in the right frame of mind. You know how she is. She gets so worked up and cries and shit. I’m not ready for all that yet.”

  She put her hands up. “Hey, I get it. I’ve got two Dominicans on my ass with the guilt trip every time we talk.” she said it, raising two fingers up to the screen. “I don’t blame you.”

  I laughed at the exasperation on her face, like her parents hadn’t been like that her entire life.

  “You must be a ball of feelings, sweetie, but I’m glad you’re liking it. Tell me about the people. Have you met anyone cool? Is the coffee beyond?”

  I swooned, already fantasizing about the macchiato I was getting as soon as I ended the call. “Oh man, the coffee really is amazing. I may have to start setting down hard and fast rules around amount consumed per day, because at this rate I may permanently injure myself with caffeine.” She rolled her eyes at my strung-out expression.

  I took a moment before answering her second question, thinking of how to proceed. “I haven’t met that many people yet. Just the woman who’ll be my boss, and she’s really cool. The co-worker I rode down with today is pretty nice.” I coughed, averting my eyes. “Very interesting.”

  She smiled, completely innocent to my extremely bad choices. “How is he interesting?”

  “Well, I don’t know that much about him, really.” Not because my nosy ass hadn’t tried. “But he’s a psychologist—cultural psychology, actually. He’s looking into how colonization impacts the collective psyche.” Her eyes widened with genuine interest. “He’s really into Frantz Fanon.”

  She really perked up at that. This was the type of stuff she loved. “Whoa, that’s some majorly woke shit right there. That is interesting. A bit intense, but hey.” She lifted a shoulder and gulped from her huge mug. “You don’t mind intense.”

  “I don’t, and he is kind of intense, not in a bad way though. We were listening to some music on the drive and he got incredibly deep about ‘Poison & Wine’ by the Civil Wars. I mean, all of their songs are like, life-or-death good, but still.”

  Luce made a sound of approval and nodded. “Yep, they’re bomb.” Then her face got all sad. “I still get bummed out when I think about them breaking up.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed, and for some incomprehensible reason, asked the last thing I should be asking. “So, have you heard from Miguel?”

  This was not a question that would go over well. I averted my eyes to a spot over her head as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I knew Lucía had him on her shit list forever and would (a) not pick up the phone if he did call, and (b) not tell me because she knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere good.

  The eye roll and growl she proffered confirmed I knew exactly who I was dealing with. “That come mierda knows not to dial my number. God, just thinking of that fuckface makes me mad.” She ran her tongue over her front teeth, probably envisioning throat punching him, and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s he gonna call me for? Besides, I assume he’s too busy planning his country club wedding in Santo Domingo with that skank he’s engaged to.”

  “Come on, Luce,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “We don’t really know she’s a skank.”

  “Whatever. He’s an asshole and I’m glad you’re like, twenty countries away and getting all that drama out of your system. You deserve someone who worships and sees you and your beautiful heart. Not that trifling asshole.” She twisted her mouth to the side, like even the thought of him left a bad taste. “No dick is that good.”

  I groaned at that hard truth. “Agreed. His wasn’t, at least. And you just say that because I’m your favorite.”

  “You better believe it.” Her expression was a mix of affection and worry. I knew she thought I’d spend the entire time I was here moping about Miguel. But it all seemed so distant now. Maybe he’d been right, and none of it had been that deep after all.

  I looked back at Luce and noticed her eyes were getting droopy. When she yawned, she gave me a rueful look. “Babe, I gotta go. I’m about to keel over. I’m glad you got in all right and already have a potential friend. Love you and talk soon, okay?”

  I cringed internally at the mention of my new “friend” and blew her a kiss before signing off.

  As I opened up the documents I wanted to review before our dinner meeting, I considered what I was feeling. I’d left DC feeling numb and lost, and now that I was here, I felt…different. Before getting on the plane to Addis Ababa, I’d been wondering if I even wanted to do this work. Never mind the acceptance to the NYU social work master’s program for the fall, I’d been avoiding thinking about. All that was still up in the air.

  Yeah, I was still lost, unsure about what I’d do next, but that numbness had turned into something more like anticipation. I tried not to probe the source of it too much because I knew it probably had to do with my ill-advised crush on a certain logistics coordinator, and that was not advisable in any sort of way.

  Dinner was a long and serious affair since we had a lot to prepare before our first survey day. By the time I got to my room it was past ten, but as tired as I was, sleep would not come. The hotel room had mosquito nets on the beds, and the ceiling fan made it flutter. It felt like there were birds flying over my
head, and that, plus the lingering jet lag, made it hard to settle down.

  After half an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep and decided to go out and take a walk around the hotel compound. They had a nice garden and pool area, and I hoped the fresh air would help me relax. As I stepped out of my room, I shivered in the cold night air, looking up at the sky.

  It was magnificent.

  Of all the places I’d been to, this sky seemed to have the most stars. They looked so close, too. I felt like I could reach out and touch them. A wave of emotion hit me as I stood there with my face raised to the night sky. Unbidden, a tear rolled down my cheek as I thought about my parents. Had they been to this hotel when they lived here? Had they taken walks in this same garden together? As I struggled to recall my father’s face, the frantic fear that one day I’d completely forget him resurfaced, making my heart gallop in my chest. The truth was that every year my memories of him dimmed a little more, but here I felt connected to him in a way I hadn’t in a long time.

  I heard someone approach, so I quickly brushed my tears away and turned to see Elias walking toward me. He was wearing a thicker bright orange fleece this time, and the contrast of that fiery color against his brown skin made me a little breathless.

  “Jet lag?” he called out to me as he approached.

  I nodded and walked over to meet him halfway. “Yeah, I’m still all out of whack. What’re you still doing up?”

  He shrugged as he looked up at the sky. “I couldn’t sleep. When I drive all day, my body takes some time to slow down. I like to take a walk before bed.”

  “Well, we can keep each other company while we try to summon the sleep gods.”

  The sleep gods? Who the hell talked like that?

  He just smiled and kept walking with me as I hurried to make small talk. “I assume going for a run in the morning won’t be an issue?” I asked with a smirk, expecting him to make some comment about Ethiopian runners and their greatness.

  “Of course. There’ll be people out there starting at dawn. We’re serious about our running in this part of the world.” He winked, and a swell of butterflies swerved inside my chest. “It’s easier to run here too; the air isn’t as thin as Addis’s.”

  I nodded at his statement. Not being up seven thousand feet would make it less treacherous to go for a run.

  Elias lifted his hand as he gave me directions. “You just make a left when you get out to the road and keep going until the roundabout, then come back. The whole loop is about three miles. I run that way when I’m here.”

  “Perfect.” I wanted to ask if he’d go with me, but I just thanked him instead, and kept walking at his side.

  Elias seemed so at peace. Unhurried. So unlike my own approach to life. But wasn’t that what I was looking for here? To take stock, to find a new way to coexist with myself that didn’t involve erasing my needs and wants to keep those around me happy?

  Usually when I met someone I couldn’t stop talking, trying to impress them, or sound smart or knowledgeable. But with Elias I felt it would be pointless. Like he’d know it was just noise.

  “I might see you out there.” His rough voice in the silent night brought me back from my wayward thoughts.

  “Sure, sounds good,” I answered, trying not to sound too eager.

  “I have to get the vehicle ready first thing since we’ll be driving rough for a good part of the day. But if I get up early enough, I’ll have time for a short run.” When I looked up, I was greeted with that warm smile he always seemed to have for me.

  But when I got closer, I realized he looked tired. “Do you need help getting the car ready? I can skip the run and help out.”

  He looked surprised by that. “Thank you for offering, but the other drivers can help. It will be a long day, but you’ll get to see some very nice parts of Gedeo, at least.”

  I rubbed my hands together, feeling excited for the work ahead. “I’m looking forward to it—it’s been a while since I’ve actually done field work. These days I mostly go the main country offices to do my stuff.”

  For this job, we were collecting data to assess a nutrition program for children in rural areas who were under the age of five. Aid USA had been running it in partnership with the Ethiopian government. We’d be in the field most of the time.

  “Rain has been over for a few months, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get to the more remote villages,” Elias said as we walked.

  “That’s good,” I answered, lost in thought over the conditions we’d find.

  Many families in the rural areas of the country still relied on subsistence farming, so if there was a bad year in the fields, there was just not enough food to go around. A lot of people depended on this program, and with the current political environment in the States, Aid USA officials were feeling the pressure to justify a few more years of funding. Our job was to collect information they’d use to make their case.

  We made our way through the hotel grounds until we came to an enclosed patio, and Elias pointed at a semi-hidden bench by a hedge of jasmine. When we sat, I could feel Elias’s body heat even from a couple of inches away. I glanced down, trying to focus on anything other than how close we were. When I looked at his feet, I noticed he’d taken off his work boots and was wearing black Birkens. His toes were thick on the top and very long, and he had a mole below his big toe that looked like a small coffee bean.

  He noticed I was looking his toes, then curled them in, smiling self-consciously. “They’re very strange-looking. Too big.”

  “I was looking at your coffee bean,” I said, pointing at his foot.

  He laughed and wiggled them again. “You’re not the first one to notice.” He kept looking at me for another moment and surprised me with a question. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, obviously picking up on my gloomy mood.

  “It’s weird, but even though I’m missing my dad more since I got here than I have in years, it feels different. Better,” I said, and it sounded like a question. “Like it’s a wound I’ve been keeping covered and clean, but what it needed to heal was air and sun.” I shook my head at my rambling. “That makes no sense.”

  His face turned serious. “You make sense to me.”

  I frowned at how he phrased that and wondered if something had been lost in translation. But the way his kind, dark brown eyes were set on my face made me dismiss the thought. He moved a little closer, and his curls were almost brushing my cheek. I wished I could tip my face up to him, wanting to feel his touch on my bare skin with an urgency that startled me.

  He spoke into the quiet night. “Just because something isn’t festering does not mean it’s healed.”

  I nodded, then turned my face away again when he looked at me like he wanted to ask more questions. Before he could I stood, doing my best to shake off the intensity of the last few minutes. “I think I’m going to turn in. See you in the morning.”

  He dipped his head and stood in silence, pointing in the opposite direction of my room. “I’m over there.”

  We parted ways then, but as I walked up the pathway, I could feel the weight of Elias’s stare all the way to my door.

  Chapter 4

  The sky was starting to lighten when the call to prayer from a nearby mosque woke me the next morning. My job had taken me to a lot of different places, so I was used to music or prayers rousing villages. This muezzin had a particularly melodic voice, and I lay in bed, drifting in the cadence of his chanting as I thought of the day ahead.

  We’d be going deeper into the rural parts of the region today, and I was looking forward to that. Being out in the field and talking to women, men, and children was always enriching and humbling for me.

  It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t seen it just how little people have in some parts of the world. No electricity, no running water, homes made of hay and clay, at times not much to eat. A few changes of clothes for each person in a family, and if they were lucky, more than one pair of shoes. Still, th
ey proudly opened their scrupulously cared-for homes, and generously offered what they had to eat or drink.

  I was excited to do the job I’d been given over the next few weeks. And maybe, if I was honest, I was also looking forward to spending the day stuck in a car with Elias. I wasn’t ready to give my reckless crush free rein yet, but I was totally giving myself a pass on “getting to know him because he seemed interesting.”

  I took the end of the call to prayer as my cue get out of bed, and within minutes I was walking out of my room. I warmed up a bit by the pool and left the hotel compound at a leisurely jog. The sun was almost fully up over the misty fields as I ran past. It was such a sight that I had to stop and look. The horizon went on forever here, which made for a stunning sunrise. I watched it in a reverent silence until I felt chilled and had to move.

  I set off on the path Elias recommended with Cardi B for a soundtrack, the movement and bite of the morning air kick-starting my jet lagged brain. About two-thirds through the loop I began to sense some runners behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw five or six boys of various ages grinning at me as they tried to catch up. I took my eye off the path too long and lost my footing for a second, then decided to give them a real run for their money. I ripped out my earbuds and took off back to the hotel as fast as I could go. They all shrieked, seemingly delighted at the challenge, and ran after me.

  I lost most of my running companions along the way, but two of them kept up with me. I was almost ready to give up and let them pass me when I saw Elias come up on my other side, grinning from ear to ear. He ran alongside me for a second and then panted out, “I forgot to mention that the local boys like to chase the farenjis who go out on runs. It’s a big achievement to outrun them, you see.”

  I looked at him, but was too out of breath to say anything, and in a last-ditch effort I sprinted, leaving Elias in the dust too. I made it to the hotel, barely, and collapsed on the lawn. Elias ran in a bit afterward, laughing hard as he dropped down next to me, and it wasn’t long before the last two boys made it back as well. I turned to them, still gasping for breath, held up my finger, and hobbled to my room. I got a few Jolly Ranchers and packs of gum out of my bag to hand out to the kids. They plucked them from my hands with a thank you and ran off, throwing their fists up in the air, hollering in victory at their sullen friends who had finally caught up.