Showing posts with label Holy Land Tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Land Tales. Show all posts

Sep 20, 2011

More Vanilla

Vanilla is thirteen years old.

They were to part ways. Vanilla thanked him for the kind gesture of accompanying her to their home, but before taking the small cobbled path, she gave him a small kiss in the cheek. She then gave him 'beautiful eyes' by acting to close the eyes to a slit and beaming, and walked away.

James was dissolved in oblivion. He couldn't believe that he could fall in love with the little girl. He swayed, slithered his way back to the coliseum where an acquaintance was waiting for him.

The acquaintance asked about the sudden disappearance.

Long story, James had in mind, but did not verbalize it. Dinner, he said instead.

James' dilemma wasn't a secret at all: the food. For the first night, they had to pay hospitalities to their hosts by joining their kosher preparation. Jewish servings were not that much, they only have enough for what the body can digest in ten hours. Gluttony is a sin.

The taste was unbelievably subtle. They had the least salt, and there was a tangy aftertaste to the lamb steak, which was due to the lack of pepper or any other condiment apart from salt (Or could also be the presence of an unknown substance). The bread had an ancient feel on it, the type that the apostles once dined. It was unleavened and a small tearing from a bigger portion is satisfying. The meal was filling, nonetheless.

He had a small talk with other participants. The day was a little short if he was asked, for he had a lot of things in mind. He took a lot of photographs, too, and saved it for the other blog.

Went to bed with a smile on his face. Everything that happened on the first day in Haifa was overwhelming and lesson-filled. He sent Joe an e-mail retelling the experiences and slept immediately after. Five more days will surely be of more fun and erudition.

Aug 23, 2011

Vanilla

It is four past noon and the sun, much like in the hometown, is nearing to set with a darker shade of yellow. The temperature is the same: It almost felt like he never left. Filipinos are everywhere, that is a conclusion that cannot be contested.

While treading the orange bricks, James saw her. She is the most beautiful girl that he has ever seen.

The girl, who apparently, was hurt and was holding on at the outside pillars for support, is a Jew. James asked her what was wrong, and she pointed at her sandals. Departing from the obvious, he snatched for detail. There was blood on her left pinky-toe. James pulled out his handkerchief, pegging a bleed-stopper knot that he knew since he became a Boy Scout.

She is Vanilla. James had unfathomable notions about her name. The girl said she had to go back home. James offered his hands so that Vanilla could walk, then he could accompany her to their humble abode.

Her hands are very delicate, it had a scant trace of ivory and a lingering softness which was worth the touch. She had small fingers, weakened by the loss of blood in her system. She was still shaking as he was lifting her from a lower position.

They held hands until they were more than a kilometer away from the coliseum. They walked some more, talked, and laughed at whatever funny things they had in mind. Vanilla is not only beautiful, but also, very charming, and very kind. He now, would never doubt why J-s-s had the heart for the children, especially from his own kind. Jews are very passive, good natured fellows. Vanilla satisfied his quest for knowledge by giving him the first hand teacher, experience.

James longed to stay at her side but it cant be...


to be concluded.