You know how Forrest Gump said that life is like a box of chocolates? It’s full of surprises and all that good stuff. But what if I don’t want surprises? What if I want to know what’s ahead of me and not have to go down the road pell-mell? If you have a box of chocolates you can choose either to open it or leave it. But in life you don’t really have any choice. You either accept the idea or somebody will have to impose it on you.
“Come on, Deianeira! You have to hurry or we’ll miss the flight!” I can hear my brother, Adonis, yelling at me from the living room. I threw my sketchbook and my charcoal pencil in the black messenger bag that’s been lying on my bed for the last hour. The green valise has been halfway full for the last week too. I grabbed the mottled brown and turquoise camera bag and slide my messenger bag over my shoulder before quickly zipping the valise.
“Deianeira! I’m going to kill you if we miss the flight!” Adonis yelled again. Clearly, I have a vociferous brother who’s also impatient. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. I ran downstairs to find my brother sitting on the counter with his traveler outfit –sunglasses, flip-flops, Bermuda shorts, and t-shirt.
“What kind of a traveler are you?” he asked when he saw what I wore. “Let’s just go, okay? I don’t even want to go to that island,” I answered, making it clear that if he dares to open his mouth for more sneer comment, I won’t hesitate to kill him.
I live a pretty solitary life since, materially, our family has been abundant enough that Adonis and me don’t need to share a room or share anything. But I can’t say that we live a Hollywood celeb-life of grandeur. The last year it’s been kind of tough too, financially, since Dad’s company has been submerging and sinking. That’s why I’m not exactly a fan of this trip. I mean, really, when you have just enough money to live day to day and to get your kids to school, would you really impose on your kids to go to Greece for a month?
“Have a safe trip, children. Say hi to Giagia[1] and Pappaous[2] and send them our love,” Mom said as we walk passed her in the front yard. Adonis and I gave her a hug and hopped in the cab that Adonis called earlier. “Do you have your passport and your itinerary?” Adonis asked after a five-minute silence. I grimaced, “You do realize we could just spend the bloody month here and get a job right? I don’t know… earn some money so that we could help Dad and Mom a little bit here and there.”
“Well that answered my question. And you need ease up a little. Don’t be so uptight about everything. Jeez,” he said. That was basically the end of our conversation until we reach JFK airport. I couldn’t have cared less. All I wanted to do was stay in New York, work two jobs throughout the summer and hang out with Elaine; rather than going to some remote island in the south of Europe.
“De-ya-ne-yira?” The big black guy looked at me with a confused expression as he tried to pronounce my name. “It’s…” I was about to give him the usual it’s-an-invisible-‘r’ lecture, but I refrained and said, “Yeah… whatever.” Blame my Dad for giving Adonis and I a weird Greek name. But at least his name is not a tongue contorting one and people actually can pronounce it.
After an hour of listening to Adonis talking to his girlfriend on the phone about how excited he was to see his ‘homeland’, we finally boarded the plane. I tried to ignore the curt stewardess and be a genial traveler to the world, but I couldn’t. The only resolution to this issue is for me to get off the plane and have a sleepover at Elaine’s.
I decided to look at some of those on-flight magazines as the plane started to move. I’m immune to the take-offs, unlike Adonis who was fastening his seat belt super tightly and mouthing a prayer over and over again. They were doing a big spread on countries to visit in 2010.
“Goodness gracious,” I murmured under my breath when I saw a picture of an island with a cliff full of white adobe-like houses on the side. I could hear the sound of the water calling my name, asking me to jump in and swim; also the voice of the cliff calling to me to sit down with my sketchbook and pencil, begging me to draw them.
“I can’t wait to cliff-jump there,” said Adonis who, apparently, was done with his prayers and was feeling safe and secure flying with this iron bird. “I want to- wait… what?” I asked in confusion. “That’s Santorini, D, the ‘forlorn island’ where Giagia and Pappous live,” he answered. When the fact hit me completely, I could feel a change in me. Like I’m transforming into a genial traveler.
The conversation I had with Mom a couple of days ago were replaying in my mind. “You know,” she said, “I was an excited traveler. I wanted to see the world right after I got out of high school. But I didn’t, because my parents didn’t have the money at the time,” she stirred the sautéed onions and mushrooms, “But I worked and I finally have the money. Then another big question came up: where should I travel? Because I only have so much money; I can only visit one country.”
“A lot of options and endorsements were given by my friends. But none of them told me about Greece. There’s a special, secluded island where I met your Dad,” she smiled, “But not only that, I found beauty and risk. I want you to find that too.”
I remembered I just rolled my eyes and continue chopping the lettuce when we had that conversation. But maybe… I would react better if I knew where I would be going. Not saying that I don’t love Giagia and Pappous, that I need something else to excite me about this trip, but maybe… I don’t know.
All I know right now is that I have a destination where I will find what I’m supposedly missing. “You know… if you’d stop being such a stubborn teenager, you could’ve prepared better for this trip and not make Mom and Dad all guilty for imposing on you to go,” Adonis said. I looked at him and smiled, “Don’t worry. Eímai étoimos na ankaliásei ta elliniká se ména,[3]” I smiled after gathering for the little Greek that I learned in grade school. Maybe Forrest Gump is right after all.
As I preen myself, I realized life is like a box of chocolates. You won’t know what you get until you open it. If you try to guess it, you’ll end up going crazy over it while others enjoy their chocolates. And now, I’m going to open and enjoy mine.
How do you pronounce deianeira in english? cuz i dont know how to say my name to my uncle in the states.
ReplyDeleteI usually pronounce my friend's name 'day-ya-nee-da' with a very subtle 'd' after the 'nee'. I hope it helps :)
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