November 20, 2011:
Shahzad is playing silly games with Carla’s feelings. He is driving her crazy with constant SMSs and telephone calls. I suspect that she is realizing the true nature of her situation with Shahzad, and is having doubts. Carla telephoned me and she was disturbed and not making sense. I gather that Shahzad had told her that he had been in jail. Also, he once borrowed my mobile and sent her a massage as if from me, saying, “Shahzad is crying”, but fortunately he used Paki English and she guessed.
I have asked Shahzad if he is in love with Carla and he said, “No”. I told him, “You are playing silly games” and he replied, “She started it, because she plays games with me.” I advised him that it is wrong to play games with a woman’s feelings. He was disturbed for two days. I told Carla by SMS, “You must understand that Shahzad is only a child and he is a Muslim” on the telephone I reminded her that, Shahzad’s reality in his own country must be inconceivable to us and he is now involved in cultural situations in a foreign country of which he has had no preparation or understanding.
She has said since on the telephone, “If Shahzad is only a child I am wrong to have feelings for him but, I think he understands a lot.” I think he probably understands more than Carla. I have told Shahzad that if he is serious about being my boyfriend he must accept that we are in serious relationship. He replied, “Sebastian we have been together for over one year.” He has been the center of attention for at least three women this summer and he has enjoyed himself. Carla is emotionally vulnerable, unmarried, sensitive, idealistic and almost menopausal. She has lost a young charismatic brother and is susceptible to finding a substitute. Shahzad is playing games with a damaged and neurotic woman.
Last night on television I discovered yet another disturbing fact or truth about our democratic west. In the 1930s a bill was passed in America supposedly to protect land from erosion. “THE NUMBER OF LIVE STOCK OWNED BY NATIVE AMERICAN MUST BE LIMITED TO PROTECT THE LAND FROM EROSION” They were living in appalling conditions in scrub desert and had to witness their few animals being slaughtered. I wonder if the bill applied to the massive cattle ranches owned by the wealthy American. The limited live-stocks owned by the Indians were actually contributing to the fertility of the land. This was probably about the same time that Hitler was exterminating Jews and the ‘Free West’ limited immigration for Jews from Germany. The Native Americans could have survived on scrub desert and maintain their culture but they are now living on American manufactured junk food. The American dream is, get rich by any means because the cost is irrelevant.
November 22, 2011:
Carla’s holiday photographs arrived this morning. They look very happy. She has an appetite for filling for every moment with activity and fun. They make a very beautiful happy couple. Shahzad is too obliging and he can’t say ‘No’ to anybody, that’s why my home is full of Paki’s, smoking Hashish. Carla needs to give Shahzad space and time to sort out what he wants. He is after a European passport and I suppose marriage to a woman is in every way preferable to a civil partnership with me. She probably wants somebody to replace her brother plus no doubt, a young dick. She is heading for unhappiness even disaster and he is heading for a commitment to a neurotic old woman. Marriage to Carla would consume his soul but what worries me is that he is a good boy and would probably do his best to fulfill her expectations. I hope I get him his visa and she gives him time and space to think before making his mind up.
December 5, 2011:
Shahzad has gone to Athens. His embassy is providing him with a new passport. I see no point in waiting for Greek immigration to do anything. They have a new explanation every week. I feel they have ulterior motives but I can’t imagine what or why. Shahzad was legal on his pink card and medical services were free but he had to renew it regularly and would eventually have been summoned for a review. There is no money available so he could not have been deported as Clair kept insisting. They have his fingerprints and photograph on database so they have full knowledge of his whereabouts. I also understand they have now stopped all workers coming into Greece on work permits. This is probably an attempt to solve the unemployment problems. A friend went for a work permit to employ his Russian sister-in-law and was told to employ a Greek. His answer was to the point, “You must be joking.”
My brother telephoned, he has received a very disturbing telephone call informing him that “Kathy has died.” We don’t know any Kathie’s. He is a considerate person and played for time hoping for a clue. My brother was told that “Kathy died of throat cancer; that was what eventually took her” and added “We met Sebastian briefly in Greece”. The only person I know, who has visited the island was Ian and his homely little wife and we decided that she could be a ‘Kathy’. Now my brother has the embarrassing job of finding out if somebody who could very well be in perfect health, is dead.
I understand that America has christened a new aircraft carrier “The George Bush”. I suppose it is very apt for a weapon of war, it will send the message to the world, “don’t mess with us, we are too stupid and intolerant to see your point of view.”
December 7, 2011:
My brother has telephoned and it seems that, as usual, the only member of our household with brains is the stupid farm boy. He recalled that Catherine had visited Greece and met me and suddenly the whole telephone call made sense. I have been given Laurie’s telephone number and I telephoned him. We had a long talk and he gave me his address. They had three years of extreme happiness after we met briefly outside the Hamam. I believe that only a terminal illness could help Catherine to be truly herself. Without a date for departure life, like a holiday, would just be tedious repetition. She seemed to need some tangible time scale to love and to feel loved. I am sure that she gained deep satisfaction and security from the idea of being missed.
In her teens Catherine, had worked for a family in Sussex. One night at a dance Laurie danced with her and spent the whole night waiting for an opportunity to speak with her. She did not leave her friends for a second but he never forgot her. A few years ago, Catherine was having a brief love affair with her former employer in Sussex and by chance she met Laurie again. He was still fascinated by her. After two marriages with children of all ages, he was free but Catherine was divided in her affections. They established a close bond and when her former employer’s wife objected to the affair with her husband Catherine and Laurie got married.
He is a creative, artistic farmer, so he fitted the bill. There were a few problems with his two youngest children and she continued drinking, but the marriage held together until she was declared terminally ill with Cirrhosis of her liver. When I met them here on the island she had just been discharged from hospital because she preferred to die at home. She was covered in broken blood vessels but extremely happy. They didn’t see me again because I am sure every minute was precious. She did not drink again and eventually died of throat cancer not liver failure. As Cousin Kathleen, would say “It is the end of an era.”
I telephoned Laurie and we had a long talk. I have a photograph of Catherine when she was twenty-one, I will have it copied and send it framed, so he will have a photograph of her when he first set eyes on her and fell in love. Laurie told me a very strange story. He was in Australia with one of his children and a fortune teller told him. “You will meet someone from the past with dark eyes but not English. You will get married and find much happiness. This is a story that was predestined.”
December 20, 2011:
Shahzad is leaving tomorrow. His ticket cost 480 euros, cheaper than travelling in a car boot. He is very excited and going home in my Armani boots. He has taken all the spare bread to some Paki friends because they feed the pigeons. They are all working. I think that perhaps Shahzad was too pretty to work.
December 21, 2011:
There is no avoiding the truth, my boyfriend is fucking useless. He spent so much time in the bathroom that he made us very late for finding a taxi. Then he had to run back and fi
nd a silver ring, (probably the one he thinks I don’t know that Carla bought him) I found one taxi and we went to meet him. We arrived at the check in desk with five minutes to spare. Greeks are very formal and the girl wasted time saying extensive goodbyes to her friends before attending to us. He managed to get through immigration but as I left I heard them calling his name. He once told me that in Dubai he missed three flights because he wasn’t paying attention. I saw the plane take off as I reached the bus stop at 07:10hrs, it was late.
I telephoned Shahzad in Athens. He said, ‘Sebastian I am in Athens’ I said, ‘Yes I know, what are you doing?’ completely lost he replied ‘I don’t know’ I asked ‘Why did they call your name when you were leaving’ he said, ‘because I went to the toilet’ I set about organizing him, ‘First feed yourself and I will call you again at ten.’ I called at ten and told him ‘You must find the desk of your carrier and get your boarding card.’ At 11:30 am, he was still waiting to have his passport checked. At 12:00pm he told me, ‘They have put inside that I must pay 600 euros.’ I asked him what for and he didn’t know, so I sent him back to ask and to check his departure gate. At 13:00pm, he told me that he had found his departure gate and if he returns he must pay 600 euros fine. I told him, ‘Under no circumstances go for a walk, and safe journey, my friend’ I was close to tears.
So, Bollywood boy, all dressed in black with his collar turned up has gone. He is not capable of looking after himself. I have sent my companion, friend, son and lover away. I sit empty and alone in the park, it is always a shock how life just carries on regardless but the desolation is very familiar and I wait.
TIGER, FROM PALESTINE
January 10, 2012:
We are having a warm spell. The weather is varied because of the proximity to Asia and the extremes of temperature conflicting with the warm Mediterranean. Today I was writing in my usual position on a stone bench in the Park when a tall very slim figure dressed entirely in black passed me from behind. He was well barbered with a vertical spine a firm round ass and sturdy but long legs. I exclaimed ‘fucking hell’ and to my surprise he stopped and pretended to take in the view; deliberately giving me the benefit of his profile. His hair is very short and brown, his nose short and fashionably dished, his cheek bones and jaw well chiseled and clearly delineated. The words of Lady Caroline lamb regarding Lord Byron sprang to mind. “Mad, bad and dangerous to know”.
A tiny voice whispered in my unconscious, “Always trust first impressions.” If he is a rent boy he is out of my league, if not I would be advised to avoid him anyway, he is too beautiful. Every posture, stance, attitude and gesture was calculated. He sat on a stone bench not far away and arranged one ankle on his knee. Then he seemed to be having a problem with his lighter.
‘Do you have a light?’ he called.
Somewhat unnerved I answered ‘No, sorry, I don’t smoke’ being eager to return to my writing.
He called to me again, ‘Where are you from?’--- ‘I am British but I live here.’ His voice showed confidence and was free of the appeal or aggression associated with parasites looking for a victim. He gave me an inviting smile and I joined him to avoid straining to hear and shouting.
He talked easily and with such candor that I relaxed. ‘I am from Palestina; I have just arrived from Crete.’
His cloths were expensive, well-chosen and superbly cut to emphasis his broad shoulders, elegant slim body and fine legs. We talked easily. I told him that I use to work in the Hamam, this caused his face to light up and he said that he was in needed of a massage. I looked boldly into his face for the first time. His eyes are large but long and heavily lidded, his browse slant upwards hinting at Mongol ancestry but it was his mouth that arrested my soul. He has the full lips of a very young girl expressive and always restraining a smile. He over flowed with radiant warmth and confidence, he talked with authority and gave the impression of integrity.
With no hint of curiosity beyond open frankness I asked, ‘Do you sell sex?’ his reply moved me so much that I gave him twenty euros. ‘I am sorry Sebastian but sometimes I have no choice, life can be very hard’
‘Yes I know, I am not interested in sex but here’s twenty euros’ after a pause handing him the money, I said, ‘I like you, I feel good in your company’
He confirmed, ‘You mean you want me for a friend, ok Sebastian, you can call me Tiger.’ I was entranced by the curve of his thigh and the smile hovering with trust on his innocent lips. Then he asked for my telephone number.
The Hamam Diaries Continued Page 30