bitten swollen pigs body of a foot had eventually started to reduce
it's swelling. He'd got to the point he could once again put weight on
it.
So he's examining my foot. His annalasis is that mine looks like it
may be at the begining of the same process his is coming back from.
Bad news.
"It all comes down to the climate," he explains. But the lack of sleep
don't help does it."
As I half verbalised my obligitory response to his retorical statement
my eyes met the gaze of a stranger.
A man stood alone at the end of the decking. Close to the edge of the
water at least 10 meters from the 9 other people in the room. Possibly
an American surfer type dude i thought. Based on his sholder lenght
straw like hair and the happiely suprised laid back Wooooooh expresion
on his face as he registered me reflecting his gaze.
Arrryh.
"oh yeah it don't half sting a bit don't it like." retorted my welsh
mate.
The Betterdeen that filled the dirty little cut on my foot didn't so
much sting as burn and ran through my toes and between the wooden
floor boards benieth me down into the once mighty lake upon which we
rested.
As I looked up the surfer man had gone but as I turned round he was
now stood besides me holding out the standard icebreaker peace
offering of marjiauna.
"hi, I'm Dave."
I said my own name and Dave nodded like he already knew it.
Dave went through the usually where have youn been/things done/boxes
ticked spheal and moved into talking about his own practice;
anthropology.
Not as it turns out the study of flowers or nature as my first 2
missed swings had suggested. Saving me the shame of a vocabulary
strike out Dave clarified it as the study of people. He's mainly into
individual case studies.
Lightbulb.
Right then I think to my self, Dave wants to study me.
As I smiled along to my own internal monolouge I hit Dave up with my
question of the day,
"do you know where I can get some anti-bac hand sanitiser gel?"
Dave seemed to think he might have some in his bag a dissapeared down
a corridor to find it. I turned back to the bar and my welsh mate.
"that guy's gone to get me some hand gel." I said.
"oh were you talking to someone? I wasn't paying attention like."
I'm like "yeah the American guy"
He's like "no I didn't see him"
About 45 minutes later Dave still hasn't come back so I ask our Khmer
host if he'd seen the Barang I'd been chatting to . He pointed at the
welsh guy. So I'm like "no the other Barang"
He's like "no only one"
Then it hit me. A guy that only I can see, who implies that he'd like
to study me and find out what makes me tick.
See I'm no psychiatrist but that sounds like the rantings of a
schizophrenic with delusions of grandure.
Humm I thought. Maybe I shouldn't mention Dave to anyone.
Next time I saw Dave it was 6 o'clock in the morning and me and my 2
room-mates had been awake talking loudly in our room for the last 5 hours.
Dave came to borrow a rizla. We let him in and he stayed for just long
enough to offer us Valium without it seeming like it was the reason he
came. We took him up on his offer and he left as we swallowed the blue
flowers.
Turns out Dave's not imaginary at all or at least if he is
then other people can imagine him too.
Sent from my iPod
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