Z & C (3)

        I always remembered one of the first things ZM said when we had all said our goodbyes and entered the boarding area. There were three things he wanted to accomplish on Exchange: (i) See the Northern Lights, (ii) Go Ice-Fishing, and (iii) Go Surfing in Spain. I had a good laugh - not that the three things he wanted to do were funny, but perhaps it was his delivery, or the surprise, because that was the moment on when I started to think about what I wanted to do. 

    It was a reminder of the agency we have been given, that we have always had, but sacrificed on the altar of opportunity cost and dreamed gains. We had the agency to do anything - all we needed was time and the strength of will.


  

     We arrived in Utrecht in a flurry of excitement. There were a lot of places with impossible to pronounced names to go. To first pick up the keys for the apartments for ZM and me (we were neighbours), then accompany G to the suburbs where he had rented a room from a Nigerian online. I still remember ZM and I laughing about it - what if it was a scam? G was nervous as well, since it did sound too good to be true. But hindsight will let me tell you that it all turned out well and his landlord was a gregarious Nigerian who sold stuff at the tourist market in Amsterdam from his home village, and then sending money back. I loved these kinds of stories, I try to see the heart of it, behind all the money and middle-men exchanges.

    I also remember G losing his laptop when we had gotten down from the bus. And, that led us to run furiously with all our luggages to try and catch the bus. It all turned out well again because a fellow passenger had passed the laptop to the bus driver and the bus was going to drive back to the main terminal to return it to G. G was so relieved; and so were ZM and I. When you only know two people in a foreign land, it feels likes our fates are entwined - and any happiness or excitement is guiltily had when someone else cannot be happy. So luckily, everything went well, again and again, and we after settling one hundred and one administrative stuff, could tuck in for dinner.

    I made beef stew (in the days when I could still eat beef) with lots and lots and lots of wine (this was before I learned proportionality in cooking). At this point, I didn't even think about love. Loving anyone specifically. There was my whole life to unpack in my suitcase, and there was a whole life waiting for me outside. The air was cool and crisp, the trees were becoming completely yellow. There were too many variations of beauty outside to just stop at one.