Two Years after Valentine's Day

"I can't ask him out!" Liz exclaimed. "This is quite a macho culture here, isn't it? What would he think if a girl did that?"

"Come on, you of all people are starting to be shy now? He'd probably think it's great, and wish girls would do that more often."

Liz hesitated. "I don't even know if he would be interested in me. See, he is always friendly to me, but I think he is just a friendly person."

Then she mentioned the lake in the mountains.

"There you go," was all the doctor answered before biting off a big piece of his avocado-sandwich.

*

This evening Liz passed by his office again. She was in a bit of a hurry – there was another meeting, and she was already late for it. But actually she was glad she didn't have time to hang out. This way she just had to ask her question right away.

"You know, I would really like to see that lake you told me about... How about next Saturday?"

Pablo looked encouragingly happy about the suggestion. "Sure. We could meet right here at ten in the morning, what do you think?"

She agreed, and then hurried on to the meeting.

*

The bus they had to take left from a station about a ten minute walk from where they met. The busses didn't have a fixed schedule, they just left whenever they were full.

When they arrived at the station a young man was trying to convince anybody walking by to get on the bus. It was about to leave, he promised. This however meant that it was already quite full, there were no two seats together anymore, and they decided to wait for the next one. A few minutes later the next bus approached. Pablo had already bought tickets for the two of them, asking for seats in front, next to the driver, which allowed for the best view.

Liz just enjoyed the bustle and noise of the bus station. When they got into the bus to sit down, Pablo made a sign to one of the young women, who were selling various goods to the passengers. He bought a piece of sweet, dry cake for each of them, and something that looked like jell-o in a plastic cup. They ate, while the woman went on, chanting "Torta, torta! Gelatina, gelatina!"

Then the driver got back on the bus, turned up the radio to a much higher volume, and slowly drove out of the station. Despite the bus being quite full, a boy was still leaning out of the open passenger door and calling out the destination, in the hope of luring more people into the vehicle.

The direction they went in was opposite to the the village Liz worked in. Thus the landscape she saw was new to her and kept her quite occupied. Streets were zigzagging their way up the hills that surrounded the town, and trees or other vegetation became more sparse. Somewhere in the background she could see snow-covered mountains. Every now and then they stopped at small villages – smaller than the one she knew – and the people who got off and on the bus, or waited by the bus stops, seemed shorter, darker, all of the women wearing knee-length skirts, plaited hair, some of them brown hats, some more interesting, colourful ones. They carried goods in their colourful pieces of cloth on their back.

Finally, Pablo told Liz it was time to get off the bus. Then they stood at a turn of the street, no person to be seen around. Some animal paths led away from the road, and they followed one of them. No trees grew around them, there were only bushes of hard, tall grass. The path led into some hills. In a distance at times Liz could see little stone huts, their roofs covered with grass, and surrounded by a larger area that was cut off from the surrounding pasture by a stone wall. A movement a bit further up the hill caught her eye. She looked up. A white animal, hair hanging down into its face, gazed down at them with huge thoughtful eyes.

"Look at the llama!" Liz was excited. She had never seen one before.

"Actually, that is an alpaca," Pablo explained.

Soon they passed more of these animals, sometimes grazing on the hard yellow grass in huge groups, and always looking up when they passed. Pablo pointed out to her the differences between the taller and stronger llamas with their long faces, and the shorter faced alpacas with their soft long fur.

Finally, after a two hours walk and after climbing up another hill, a small but impressively blue lake stretched out in front of them, surrounded by hills.

Even though Liz had been in the country for almost a month now, she was not quite used to walking that much in a high altitude, and had been feeling the need to sit down for quite a while. Pablo found a spot that due to some rocks was quite well protected from the strong winds, yet still allowed a view on the lake. They had brought bread, avocados, and cheese, as well as fruits he had bought the day before in a local market. Liz thought she had never had such a nice meal before.

After they had eaten, they sat next to each other, looking at the lake. It was somewhat chilly, but the search for warmth was not the only reason that made the two sit closer to each other. Liz wasn't sure, when Pablo had put his arm around her. They did not speak, or look at each other. Liz leaned her head against Pablo. She could feel his chest move with his breath, she believed to even distinguish his heart beat. His hand moved up towards her head a bit, she could feel him playing with her hair.

It was afternoon, the shades were growing. All Liz wished for was for them to stop growing, so she could just keep sitting there, could stop this little nagging somewhere in the back of her head that wondered if they shouldn't get going, so they could be back by the road before dark.

Pablo moved a little bit, as if he was planning to say something. Liz turned around to him, looking at him. He had turned his face to her just at the same moment, and they were closer than she had expected. For a few seconds neither one seemed to breathe nor move the slightest bit, as if time was standing still. Then she felt his lips on hers. When she responded to his kiss, opening her mouth a little bit in welcome of his tongue, letting her own tongue play with it, he put also the other arm around her, pulling her closer. For a few wonderful moments Liz forgot the chilly winds, the harsh beauty of the landscape around them, the growing shades.

*

Night had fallen before they reached the street. The last half hour Liz had feared to never reach civilization again, climbing up and down stony hills without seeing a thing – for some reason they weren't on the path anymore, trying to find a quicker way back. Pablo held her hand, trying to help her over the stones.

Then, at the road, they waited not longer than ten minutes, before the headlights of the small bus appeared at the horizon. Shortly after, they pushed their way inside the crowded vehicle. There were no free seats, they had to stand in the hallway with many other people. Pablo held on to the back of someone's seat with one hand, the other arm wrapped around Liz, so she would not fall each time the bus rushed around a curve of the road.

This same evening a party at the organization they worked for was planned – the boss of the organization was celebrating his birthday.

Liz and Pablo thus took the bus until its final stop, which was close to the city centre, and then walked back to their workplace. It was already getting late, and the party room on the top floor was bustling with people: Colleagues and friends of the boss. No one seemed to spend much attention to the fact they arrived together, their friends were either too drunk already to notice, or did not care much. Just the Dutch doctor secretly gave her a thumbs up and a grin, when Pablo wasn't looking.

After congratulating the boss for his birthday, he dragged her around the room a bit, presenting his "colleague from the United States" to several of his friends. Most of these insisted on pouring Liz a plastic cup of beer, which she, copying everyone else in the room, drank out quickly, and shook in a rapid movement so the last drops would fall on the floor, before handing it back. After four or five cups she started feeling slightly drunk, and more at ease with the noise at the party. A small old stereo, that usually stood in one of the offices, played the typical local mixture of folklore and pop music, Liz had already gotten used to the sound in her many bus trips to the village. Someone grabbed her by the hands and dragged her to the middle of the room, where a few people were dancing. She had lost sight of Pablo.

After a while the music was turned down, and everyone sat on chairs that were put along the walls of the room. Liz found herself a seat, and discovered Pablo at the opposite side of the room. She wanted to give him a smile, but he seemed to be deeply engaged in a discussion with the guy from the office next to his, and did not look into her direction.

Someone went around with a big jug from which he poured a yellowish liquid into everyone's glass. Liz tried it, it was somewhat sour and strongly alcoholic, but once she got used to the refreshing taste, she liked it. Then a few people got up to hold short but highly emotional speeches about the boss and his great initiative in founding this NGO, helping the people of his country, but never forgetting his family at the same time, a friendly man who... Liz was starting to feel drowsy, but when she was offered another fill of her glass she gladly accepted.

Finally the music was turned up again, and the boss took turns in dancing with each of the guests, men and women, while everyone else clapped. People from across the room sometimes smiled at Liz and raised their glass towards her, which meant, as she was told, that she should drink from her glass too, it was impolite to ignore such a greeting.

When the boss was done dancing with everyone, the dance floor filled some more. A boy a few years younger than Liz, the boss's nephew as she was told, tried to teach her some dance steps. He was quite a good dancer, but Liz grew bored with him. Her eyes searched the room. Finally she saw Pablo, near the door, with his jacket on, apparently saying good bye to the guy he had been talking to earlier.

Liz hastily apologized and walked over to Pablo. He smiled when he saw her.

"There you are! I was looking for you... I wanted to say good bye, I am going home now."

"Already?" Liz gave her voice a disappointed tone.

"Well, it is two in the morning already. And I don't really like this kind of party," he apologized.

"But... but... I thought you were still going to walk me to my room." Pablo seemed to blush slightly at her words, and the colleague that was still standing next to them grinned. "I was going to leave the party now anyway," Liz added.

A few minutes later they were back in the fresh night air, walking the few metres over to the next house's entrance, crossing a dark patio, and then up the stairs to where Liz' room was. After she had opened the door, and they had both stepped in, they stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other. Liz' heart was beating. She still felt the effect of the beer, and the other drink – and a faint memory of that one kiss at the lake, it had been just this afternoon, but it seemed ages ago.

She sat down at the edge of her bed. He still stood next to her, looking shy and nervous. Liz took his hand and pulled him closer, made him sit down. It was him, who started to kiss her. She lay down at the bed, and felt him lay down with her, felt his lips on hers, felt his hands on her skin, his skin under her hands, felt him take off her shirt, felt his tongue on her breasts, on her neck, on her stomach, wanted to feel him yet closer, closer...

*

"Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, Flight 534 to Miami is now boarding passengers for Business class, passengers with disabilities, and with children under the age of two."

Looking up, Liz realized that she was still at the airport, sitting near her gate in between masses of people. Most of them were light skinned and sun burned, and carried bags full of souvenirs with them. But every now and then she discovered someone with the typical features of the region. Young men and women, who probably worked in the States and had been visiting family here. A few seats from her sat a nervous looking elderly woman with the knee length skirt and two long plaits that marked her as someone from the country side. She seemed lost in the bright lights of the airport, and checked her ticket again and again. Maybe she was going to visit a son or daughter who was living abroad, maybe this was the first time she ever travelled this far. She clutched a bag to her chest in which Liz imagined treasures she was bringing for her child, that lived so far away from home.

Liz closed her eyes and thought of her own, pale legs wrapped around him, thought of Pablo's skin, which in the dim light of her room had been of a soft, dark brown, except for a white scar on his upper stomach he had from an accident in the mountains. She still could almost feel his hands, that had explored all her body hungrily, wandering from her breasts, over her stomach, to between her legs, entering her and probing her wetness inside. She could still taste his kisses. See the way he had looked back at her, when her moans urged him to finally enter her. She could feel him, lingering at her entrance, deliberately making her wait yet a bit longer, until finally he started slowly sliding into her. Until finally she felt him as close to her as was possible, felt him inside her, filling her. All that time his eyes looking into hers...

She sighed, and gathered her stuff, they were calling seats 30 to 49 now, that was her. When she walked towards the queue at the gate, she heard a thin voice saying "Excuse me, mamita ..." Turning around there was the woman with the braids, holding her ticket up toward her. "Is it my turn yet?" The woman spoke with the strong accent of the faraway villages, Liz wondered how much Spanish she really knew. She looked at the ticket. Seat 23F. Liz thought for a few seconds, to remember the bits and pieces of the local indigenous language, Pablo had taught her. "Manaraq, mamay," she said smiling. "Kunallan." The woman's eyes lit up at the familiar sounds. "Grashias siñuracha, añay," she called after her.

***

Liz had woken up when he was putting his clothes on. It was dark in the room.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"Six in the morning," he answered. "I have to go home."

Then he was gone, and she was not awake enough yet to realize it. Only when she woke up again a few hours later, she did. She felt a certain disappointment, though she tried to explain his behaviour as being a sign, that he wanted exactly the same as her – not a relationship that would only make both of them hurt once she had to leave. Just a good time for the two of them. But somehow it did not feel quite right.

*

A few days passed before she met him again. She was busy with the classes in the village. But then she had to go to his office, to hand in some papers. Pablo's smile looked the same as always, when she entered his office. He asked her to stay for a cup of tea. It was already getting dark outside, not many people were left in the building. While he went to the kitchen to bring coca leaves, cups, and hot water, Liz looked at the posters again. He returned, and for a while they remained quiet, sipping their tea.

"So... did you get home well, on Saturday?" Liz finally asked.

He blushed. It was interesting how well she could tell, despite his dark skin.

"Yes, I took the bus... Listen," he suddenly sat up straighter, "I am sorry for just leaving. This all just had me a bit confused. You see, I have never done this before."

"Done what?" She really wasn't sure what he meant.

"Well, you know, having sex just like that, with someone I have only known for a few weeks."

Liz wasn't sure what to reply. For a while both remained quiet, drinking their coca tea. Pablo started typing something into his computer. "Look," he finally said, "they sent me some pictures from our last trip into the mountains." Liz was relieved to have something else to talk about, and went to have a look at pictures showing a group of people in thick clothing, standing in the snow near the top of a mountain.

Time passed, and when Pablo shut down his computer, Liz asked him to come over to her place for a little while. He agreed, and then added that he would have to be home though, before his parents would get up in the morning. He didn't want them to notice he was away all night.

"Why?" Liz asked. "I thought you were 27 years old?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with age," Pablo explained. "It's just something you don't do. I don't want my parents to think they can't trust in me."

*

They met about three times per week from then on, after work. Pablo showed Liz the less expensive restaurants only locals knew about, and on the weekend every now and then they explored the surrounding country side.

He always left in the very early hours of the morning though, and never invited her to his home. 'But,' Liz tried to console herself, 'this just means that we aren't really a couple.' Which was good. She liked spending time with Pablo, but she had only four, then only three more months left here. Also, she kept meeting up with the Dutch doctor, though the only thing they did now, was to go out for a few beers and some conversation.

One morning, after a little bit too much to drink in the evening, she woke up in the doctor's bed again. Liz told herself – and the doctor assured her in this – that she had done nothing wrong. 'I am a free person,' she thought. 'I can do what I want and with whom I want. Pablo and I never talked about being exclusive.' Yet, she felt consciousness bites she had never experienced before. If she ever mentioned this to Pablo, would he be hurt? She tried to tell herself that he didn't have the right to be. She started avoiding the Dutch doctor, which wasn't really that hard, as he went on health campaigns in far away villages.

Still, she thought, the fact that she had slept with him was a proof of her own freedom. She liked Pablo, but that was all. She would spend a few more nice months with him, things staying as vague as they were now, and then she would go home and he would become just another memory.

The fact that she could hardly wait for the next time they met, for the next night they would spend together was nothing but a big crush, nothing but infatuation, she assured herself. To make sure it stayed this way, she every now and then skipped an evening that was supposed to be spent with him, making up excuses.

*

The day of the Immaculate Conception was a huge festival in a small town a few hours from the town Liz stayed in. The organization she worked for had decided that they should offer their volunteers something interesting to see, and thus they all met up in the very early morning to go to the bus stop, where they could find transport to the festival. Liz had looked forward to this trip for weeks, and Pablo had promised to join them.

But the day before he told her that he couldn't come – some important family business obligated him to be in town in the morning, just at the time they all would be in the bus towards the festival. Liz was disappointed, and after talking it over a bit, Pablo promised to join them later on. He would just take a later bus, and they would meet at two in the afternoon at a little bridge, that according to him crossed the river right in front of the location of the festival.

The village was situated in a very low valley, and for the first time Liz could notice the difference in climate a few hundred metres less in altitude could make. It was hot and more humid when she got off the bus, and palm trees decorated the plaza.

It must usually be a sleepy village, narrow streets surrounded the plaza with adobe houses painted white, on the outskirts of the tiny town they weren't even painted anymore. It was crowded by people now, though, and everyone was trying to stand as close as possible by the street going around the plaza, so they could see the procession, a huge Virgin being carried around, and people following carrying banners. All around, women in traditional skirts, men with colourful chullos underneath brown hats, barefooted children, city folk in their Sunday clothes, tourists, pushed for a good spot. Between them and the procession young boys and girls held up plastic bags with popcorn, or sun protectors made of paper, others shouted "helado, helado" or "imágines de la Virgen".