А wave in the no shadow land

by Borislav Ignatov (Bulgaria)

Making a local connection Israel

I was at the edge of Tel Aviv, hitchhiking, melting under the ruthless Israelian sun. I was feeling exhausted from the heat and surreal to a considerable degree – it was as if I was teleported to another world, a world entirely consisted of dust, swelter and the overwhelming emptiness of the desert; I was in the no shadow land. My destination was a winery far east, a place which a friend, who had visited the country a few years back, had recommended me. He told me that the place had good wine, pretty girls and a huge panoramic terrace. It definitely sounded worth checking. By the time I started accepting the thought that I will die of a sunstroke and get eaten by vultures, a huge truck pulled over. The driver was a man in his fifties, wearing sunglasses, smoking an expensive-smelling cigar. He introduced himself as Dror; I hoped in the truck. Although he sounded remarkably robotic, Dror turned out to be quite the cool guy and we had some decent conversations on the way. Also, weirdly, he was going to the same winery that I was going to. The urban parts of Israel looked like California, but on drugs. The palm trees and the well-maintained roads contrasted with the battered Arabic neighborhoods and the shabby discolored buildings. All windows were covered with wooden blinds, turning the rooms behind them into caverns. Towns looked like beach resorts, that gradually turned into ghettos. At some point, we passed by a tall, stadium-looking building. Dror explained that this was a cemetery. Apparently, Israel had been having a problem with land insufficiency, so they had to raise their deceased in huge tombs above ground. The dead were reaching for the heavens. When we arrived at the winery and went out on the terrace I was utterly stunned - we were atop a hundred-meter cliff, with an endless valley underneath, full of fields, lakes and rivers. My eyes started floating. I ordered a bottle of wine and started absorbing the majestic panorama. Then she appeared. Slim, limber, long curly hair, astounding earth-like eyes. Her loose skirt and enormous earrings, gave her the aura of a tribal goddess. I cannot tell what it was, but I was completely mesmerized by the appearance of that mysterious woman. I ripped a page out of my notebook (knocking my glass of wine in the process) and started scribbling a poem for her. It was something about freedom, love, wine and waves - lots and lots of waves. I cannot tell why – perhaps it was because of her curls, perhaps I managed to tune to the frequencies of the Giant transmitter in the center of the Universe. Approaching her table, I was shaking like a samba dancer. I handed her the wine-stained note; the girl smiled, thanked me politely and put the letter aside. While I was walking back to my table (where Dror had magically appeared with more wine) a mixture of bitterness and excitement was blubbering in my heart. We were drinking wine, discussing the latest Vice season, when the girl came to our table. I got up, cutting the conversation midways. Without saying anything she hugged me tightly around the neck; I could feel her heart – the cheerful rhythm of bird flight and blue skies. When she let go of me, she whispered: - You know what my name is? - How in the world could I? – I replied. - It is Ghal. In Hebrew it means wave. A star somewhere really far away winked at me. I took the chance and asked her: - Will someone kick my ass if I kiss you now? - No – she replied. And so, I did; and it was magical. I knew that I was probably never going to see her again, but that exact moment was pure and genuine; it was ours – then and forever after. - Heart next to Heart – said the wave girl quietly. I let that sink to the core of my being and slowly walked away. Dror, who had no idea what just happened drove me back to town. On the way back through the land of no shadows I was feeling like I was in the most blissful shade ever.