Two fingers

[charlescroes]

Think about it a minute. Memories are what we actually pay for when we vacation. The bloody vacation lasts a week or two and (if measured within that span of time) costs a fortune – right? BUT.. if you think about how long the memories last and then sort of work it out, well ….. Aruba vacations are a bargain to say the least. Seems like the only thing that fades in those wonderful memories is the tan, and that isn’t bad – is it?

If you live here, the memories are a bit different. Instead of thinking about the friends you made at the pool or such things, you tend to think about things that happened that had an effect on you. Sometimes they are emotional and sometimes they are lessons in life while others can be painful, yet - they are our Aruba memories. And they are so much like everyone’s memories of things long ago.

As kids on Aruba, we often walked to the beach from the Oranjestad town area where we lived. We would trek out in the early Saturday morning sun and get to the beach about ten and then swim. At the end of the day we would be either picked up or walk back. I remember how much we enjoyed that. Many times I made the walk alone. In the area that is now the Bakval area close to the Marriott complexes, there was a small Cunucu house and we would always make it a sure stop on the way to the ocean and sometimes on the way back. An elderly couple lived there and the lady gave us black coffee in blue enamel covered tin cups. The cups always had chips in them and sometimes even had little dents. I feel sure that these dents added to the wonderful taste of brewed coffee with way too much sugar. The elderly man never said much. He mostly sat outside looking in the direction of the ocean. At first, his silence scared me – later on, it didn’t and I wanted to be close to him.

On one particular morning, as my friend Dennis and I entered the house for our coffee, we found the elderly lady sitting and looking through the open doorway into the bedroom. We sat at the small table with her and looked in the direction she was looking. Her husband was on the bed. He had one eye closed and the other open and was looking at the ceiling. He was lying on his back on one side of the bed and his hand was on the side of the bed where she slept. His hand kept going back and forth on the sheets over the area where she had slept.

We remained still and looked at this along with her. Finally, my friend asked her what he was doing. Her answer stays with me until today.

“He is feeling the heat on the bed where I was. In a few minutes, he will lift his hand and show me some fingers to indicate the amount of time that I have been awake.” We continued to stare and then in a slow methodical move, the man lifted his arm and signaled with his fingers the number two. He slowly turned his head and opened the other eye to look at her. She signaled No - then lifted her hand and showed three fingers. This made the man laugh. His stomach (which was round and seemed to be always full of something) giggled. Then he slowly dropped his hand to the bed. We looked at her and she laughed, got us the coffee. Before we moved on, she told us how he always guessed two and was always wrong. We were two boys and we were silent and eventually we moved on because we were being included in something that was a bit beyond us. Actually we were both embarrassed. Not sure why, but we were..

Dennis and I did not utter one word to each other until we got to the beach and then we had very short conversations. That afternoon, we were picked up and when my grandfathers car passed the old Cunucu house, we looked at it and then at each other.

As I became older, I realized that people can speak volumes to each other without uttering a single word and that it is the small communications that make up profound messages.

I will share with you her words in Papiamento:
“Wak e – e ta sinti e calor riiba e cama pa wak ta cuatu tempo mi tin lanta fe di su banda. Den un par di minut e ta bai lagami sa ku su dedenan ta cuanto tempo e ta kere ku mi ta lanta”

The little white house is now gone as is the elderly couple, yet.. they are forever. They form a part of our history. A small part in the minds of two kids but an important part. They are like a small bit of color in a painting. When there – you don’t notice it since it makes up the whole - but take it away and something is missing.

Some years later while living in Miami, I came to Aruba on Vacation and found that the little white house was gone. At that moment, I made it my task to find out about that couple – and I did.

Aruba, like so many other small towns, is a tapestry. Many thousands of little stitches of little things and people and events to make up what is our island – Aruba.

As I have said so many times before – I only wish that I could convey just how much I love living here. Perhaps I should just lift two fingers.

charles
arubafastphones.com