Adonis Diaries

Archive for March 16th, 2009

Introspection: Chica Lupita (Addendum #9), (Dec. 2002)

Ariadna is from Atlixco in Mexico. Her English is poor. My Spanish is no better.

Our conversations were plagued with divergent misunderstandings. One time, after we made love she asked me how serious is our relationship.

I told her that we barely can communicate and that I can’t see much future with us together.

She jumped out of bed and cried, sleeping on the floor. Minutes later, seeing that I did not come down to console her she joined me in bed. We used to sleep on opposite side of the bed when not making love. I guess she could not stand my smoky breath.

Chica, or Lupita, or Chica Lupita, as she liked me to call her, rubbed her right leg on my dick several times. We made love again on the opposite side of bed this time: my head looking at her feet. 

Lupita has very white skin and a rather aquiline nose, like mine.  She liked to wear dresses that show a major part of her bosom. She was rather short and had her reddish hair cropped short. The tops of her feet were large and her heels very thin: She walked on tip toe and her heels barely touched ground. She never walked bare footed: the ground is the domain of the Devil.

Lupita held her head up, always looked straight ahead, back straight, and confidently conscious of people sizing her up. Chica was married to a young American. Her man committed suicide two years after their wedding.

I met her at a full-service retirement community. She worked as a cleaning lady. I worked odd jobs there for two weeks before I was later promoted as assistant to the manager. Chica was jealous of her superior at the cleaning and washing department; a lady from Guatemala who had an eye for me.

I asked Lupita out one day and we went walking Downtown. During our bilingual and confusing conversation I said: “The only real thing is the moment. Let us enjoy the moment.” She retained that sentence and reminded me of it during our many painful separations.

We went out again and then we started meeting in my private room at 2 p.m.

I asked permission from the manager to rest for an hour around that time. Chica used to join me surreptitiously for an hour before ending her daily work. We used to undress completely, kiss, make up, and cuddle.

Two weeks later, she allowed me to investigate her rosy pussy. I licked, kissed and rubbed her pussy; I thought that I was very gentle but her pussy must have been virgin for these caresses. The next day at lunch Chica said: “Me duele. I am in pain.”

Chica pointed toward her vagina.  She would not let me lick her lower lips again.

A month later, Lupita let me in her. The moment I entered her she whispered: “You are for me.” I told myself that I am in trouble and cut my activity short for the moment.

We used to go to a semi private beach, at the foot of a villa perched on a high rock.

The villa belonged to a famous brain surgeon or a brain researcher; I could not get further intelligence of Lupita but that it was related to brain. Chica used to clean the villa on weekends. The small beach was hidden from the crowd by a large rock and we were tender behind that rock.

Chica used to hold and rub my dick and when I felt too excited she would laugh with pleasure.

We never had an apartment for ourselves. Lupita used to rent a room in apartments of some Latino families. Our privacies were restricted to a room with no private bath. Once, we had a great time when the apartment happened to be vacant. We took a long hot bath together and made love all morning.

I was introduced to her two brothers who were working and living in San Francisco.

At one stage of our relationship we stopped talking for two weeks. When we made up, her brother Juan said during lunch: “Finally, my sister is smiling, talking and happy.”

Chica loved me to give her massages.  She would lay on her stomach completely naked.  I would smear her entire body with cream and diligently rub her neck, back, arms and legs.  When I get tired of massaging I would lie on her back lightly and ask her to insert my prick.  We would lie still for a long time. Lupita’s moments of laziness could be highly luxurious.

Lupita used to spend her summers in Mexico. She used to have her physical check-ups and everything relating to her health and teeth. She invited me several time, with insistence, to visit Mexico with her. I was ready to spend all my savings to be with her in Mexico, but I could not leave the USA because of problems with my stupid visa. She brought me gifts on her returns to San Francisco.

One gift was a crucifix on a necklace that I still wear all the time. Some people were amazed at my guts for wearing religious icons in Lebanon. I could only reply: “This is a gift from a dear friend.” On one of our walks in downtown San Francisco, Chica liked a pullover and bought it for me. I bought her a red skirt, I guess, and she was all love.

The night before leaving to Washington, D.C. for good, I saw her in her apartment that she rented with her brother Juan.  I saw Chica crying for the first time. She said: “You are going to leave me all alone?”

I never went back to San Francisco: I could never afford it, but she kept calling me and sending letters. The first couple of sentences in the letters were attempts of sort of English and the rest in plain Spanish. Once, Chica asked me to write her a very intimate letter showing affections in order to chase away a guy who was crazy of her, as she said.

I satisfied her with a letter filled with lies, like that I enjoyed visiting her last week and that I’ll be calling her every day and on and on …Two weeks later, I received from her a letter in Spanish. I could feel anger in the words and something of an order to return all her photos. I showed the letter to our secretary from Salvador. After she read it she simply said: “She is very upset.”

Chica might have called one Saturday evening, the first week of my return to Lebanon.

My mother answered and hung up because she could not understand a word. End of a relationship.

As of the Bible: Customs in the Levant, part 2.  (March 15, 2009)

Note: I intend to post a series of articles on the theme: “Customs and traditions in the Near East”. All these customs and traditions of the Land in the Levant were practiced thousands of years before Judaism came to be.  The Jewish religion adopted the customs of the land and wrote in the same style of imagery, maxims, and aphorism.

Jesus warned Peter that he would repudiate him three times before the second crow of the cock

There is a custom in the Levant when guest hear the second crow of the cock to prepare to start leaving.  The host has invariably to retort “You guys are mistaken, this is the first crow”. You may search Google for how many times a cock crows per day but in the Levant we maintain that cocks crow at sun down, midnight and at dawn.

Jesus said about the surprise visit of sudden death: “Stay awake; you don’t know when the Master of the house will show up; in the evening, at midnight or the last crow of the cock“. 

The oriental Christian communities used the nights to pray and watch for the second coming of “Son of God” (Preparing for the next coming)

On the same theme of sudden death Jesus recount another aphorism of the land “Two of you are grinding wheat in a quern (hand mill), one is taken away and the other saved”. 

It was the custom for two women friends to undertake the boring task of grinding wheat grain in two circular stone querns. a  A strong woman could do it alone but it is more fun to pass the time when two are chatting away.  Thus, you can never know when your closest friend will die.  Nowadays, in remote areas, the hand mill or “jaroush” is used to convert wheat grains into crushed wheat which is a staple ingredient to many traditional dishes like “tabouli”, “kebeh, and countless varieties.

Revelations abound in the Bible to the prophets, Elizabeth, Marie, and many times to Joseph who obeyed and executed the orders promptly. 

Revelations are common phenomenon in the Levant.  A family would pay visits to shrines dedicated to a saint for fertility or for kinds of handicaps; the family would stay at the shrine praying and fasting as many nights as necessary until a revelation related to their wishes descends. 

The families visit shrines confident that their “demands” would be exhausted.

When babies are born they are wrapped like mummies. First the baby is washed with lukewarm water and their bodies rubbed with salt and then scented before a square piece of cloth join their arms by the side of the body and the legs stretched. 

An unwanted baby or when someone is cursed the maxim says “You were not rubbed with salt when you were born

“Souvenirs” (March 16, 2009

Many people still move a little.  You have individuals who lived at one location when singles, then they relocated across the street when they married.  Many of these “across the street lodgers” lived to be a hundred; they never needed the help of anyone.  Is that the best or the worst character that human kind is capable of?

Many parents experienced extended prison terms, many sentences were not of civil crimes.  Many served in wars. They come home with a few belonging from prison.  They hide or lock up those belonging in obscure corners in the house. 

It is up to the offspring to discover those “miserable inheritances” to remind themselves that refreshing memories now and then is good for the future of humanity. 

A few inherit the old and smelly outfit in small handbags any which way life take them. A few make it a sacred ritual to touch the bag before taking a decision; the impression that this reminder of the existence of this bag might improve their behavior.

A flood of questions come to mind:

1.  why parents have to keep their prison souvenirs?

2. Why lock them up if they are so important?

3. Why not communicating with their offspring about their experience in prison?

4. Why not writing about their emotions and conditions of feeling incarcerated if they are that important? 

5. Why preferring to commit suicide instead of opening up? 

6. Why the inheritants fail to wash and iron their “sacred trove” of smelly cloths? 

7. Are only official military uniforms worth washing, ironing, and displaying?

There are many reports from rebel-plagued States.  The rebels and the governments reciprocate in crimes against humanity.  Most rebellious movements create parks for children; the tombs are toboggans, the swings posts made out of old rifles, pictures of “kids martyrs” plastered around the park: those innocent eyes will soon shine with hatred and their tiny bodies torn to pieces when exploding among crowded civilians.

Social memory is selective.  The horrors of the past registered by lousy writers ended up in the dust bins.  The terrors of the past that generated laws which didn’t pass “parliaments” ended up in archives. 

Only the lousy laws enacted by the military colonial powers were retained by under developed States, such as detention without prosecution.

Invariably, movies would like you to believe that only on New Year’s Eve people make their moves to get out of solitude. 

Invariably, the characters say that they were depressed for many months and never ventured outside their residences except New Year’s Eve.

Invariably, the night ends up as a success story; the protagonists agree to never forget the memory of one another, on each New Year’s Eve, for the remainder of their miserable life. 

You guys think that there is one official New Year’s Eve? Wrong, there are many and for each religious sect.

You might, if you wish, line up many more memories per year; why be content with only New Year’s Eve?  There are so many holidays and so many public memorial dates, and many more of the private kinds.


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

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