Before starting on my critical incident I want to define the word friend. What does friendship mean for you?
The Cambridge dictionary says: “a person who you know well and who you like a lot, but who is usually not a member of your family." There are various types of friendship, but we only tend to be friends with those who share similar traits or attitudes to ourselves. Therefore I am going to relate a story about a precious friend who became a platonic love. Be warned, my dear reader this is not a happy story.
The Cambridge dictionary says: “a person who you know well and who you like a lot, but who is usually not a member of your family." There are various types of friendship, but we only tend to be friends with those who share similar traits or attitudes to ourselves. Therefore I am going to relate a story about a precious friend who became a platonic love. Be warned, my dear reader this is not a happy story.
We will return to the past, but not too far. I would say one semester ago, when there still weren’t any leaves on the trees. On that memorable, cold and gray day I was pleased to be wearing my new long black coat for the first time, and thinking to myself, how do people survive living in a place like Siberia ? My tropical heart didn’t yet know the true feel of coldness. In the spite of he weather, I was hopefull, walking with my brief case full of CVs, handing these one by one to each restaurant in town. As I had previous experience as a waiter, I thought it would be easy to find a job and moreover I was in Auckland - the gastronomic city.
Suddenly I realised that had walked quite a lot a long way, because I was already next to the cemetery, I had just passed the bridge. Now I wasn't very happy, I'd seen the odd Café but no restaurants yet. Was I struggling in vain?! Aweful weather, it didn't look like it would change soon. Anyway I kept walking, and then it was my good fortune to see something written in Italian. I felt exited because my background is Italian and I can speak the language. I went straight in to look for someone who could accept my CV. On that hopeful day I met Giuliana, who is the leading lady of this story. She smiled and asked, "May I help you?" I knew she was Italian, her accent wouldn’t lie to me. Just to make sure I riplied, Parla Italiano? We started on exited conversation about Italy. Giuliana was glad when we found that I had been in her hometown and she was interested in what I had done in her city. It turned out Giuliana was a waitress and would give my CV to her boss. On that same day I received a call from the restaurant, “Come tomorrow at 6h30pm.”
I was really keen to work there, it would be perfect for practicing my Italian, and what’s more I could earn money while I did it. I arrived fifteen minutes before my duty, hoping to meet and talk to Giuliana, but I couldn’t find her. The boss was there already, he was from Naples , a traditional Italian man who spoke loudly and gesturing with hands. He gave me all the instructions. I was absolutely worried about what I had to do to get the job. So, I tried to breathe deeply to keep myself calm. Suddenly Giuliana appeared behind me saying my name, and when I turned my face to her I saw these gorgeous sparkling eyes accompanied with a pretty smile saying, "Good Luck." She had just made my night.
At the beginning of the night I was a little lost, mostly because the “il Capo” (the boss) wanted to speak only Italian with the staff and the clients were New Zealanders. Although I was Ok in both languages, my mother tongue is Portuguese, and my mind went blank several times. I was really confused. Fortunately Giuliana was there patiently helping me and giving me clues all the time. I did my best. At the end of the night I heard from il Capo, “I appreciated your work, the job is yours.” I was so happy, and at the same time I thanked Giuliana. She responded with the sweetest voice I’d heard,” You are great, it was my pleasure. I helped because you seem to be a nice guy.” I was unconditionally and irrevocably falling in love with this adorable girl. How was that possible? I had just met her two days before. I couldn’t understand how strong that feeling was. Perhaps it was the influence of the weather, those cold gray days had made me weak and lonely. She was so generous and gracious with me.
My second day of work was more comfortable than the first, I knew most things already, I just needed to learn the menu. I was getting better day by day. Giuliana and I became closer, sharing ideas and experiences. She wasn’t just a pretty face, I discovered she was intelligent. We also had many similarities, like having two young brothers, divorced parents, a passion for reading Agatha Christie and George Orwell. One day she told me one secret about our restaurant. It was hard to believe, but that particular building where we served delicious Italian food used to be a funeral parlour about 30 years ago. I became terrified I couldn’t have imagined that.
Two weeks had passed already, and it was on Thursday. I woke up badly in that morning, feeling something wrong with the day. It was absolutely cold. When I left home I noticed white stuff on the grass, New Zealanders call it frost. It was new for me. I wasn’t well, I felt sad and a little depressed. But I had to go to school. In the class I couldn’t focus on my studies, because Giuliana was in my mind all the time. When I arrived home I made the decision to open my heart to her the following night. I was right about my feelings, and I couldn’t lie to myself.
Suddenly I realised that had walked quite a lot a long way, because I was already next to the cemetery, I had just passed the bridge. Now I wasn't very happy, I'd seen the odd Café but no restaurants yet. Was I struggling in vain?! Aweful weather, it didn't look like it would change soon. Anyway I kept walking, and then it was my good fortune to see something written in Italian. I felt exited because my background is Italian and I can speak the language. I went straight in to look for someone who could accept my CV. On that hopeful day I met Giuliana, who is the leading lady of this story. She smiled and asked, "May I help you?" I knew she was Italian, her accent wouldn’t lie to me. Just to make sure I riplied, Parla Italiano? We started on exited conversation about Italy. Giuliana was glad when we found that I had been in her hometown and she was interested in what I had done in her city. It turned out Giuliana was a waitress and would give my CV to her boss. On that same day I received a call from the restaurant, “Come tomorrow at 6h30pm.”
I was really keen to work there, it would be perfect for practicing my Italian, and what’s more I could earn money while I did it. I arrived fifteen minutes before my duty, hoping to meet and talk to Giuliana, but I couldn’t find her. The boss was there already, he was from Naples , a traditional Italian man who spoke loudly and gesturing with hands. He gave me all the instructions. I was absolutely worried about what I had to do to get the job. So, I tried to breathe deeply to keep myself calm. Suddenly Giuliana appeared behind me saying my name, and when I turned my face to her I saw these gorgeous sparkling eyes accompanied with a pretty smile saying, "Good Luck." She had just made my night.
At the beginning of the night I was a little lost, mostly because the “il Capo” (the boss) wanted to speak only Italian with the staff and the clients were New Zealanders. Although I was Ok in both languages, my mother tongue is Portuguese, and my mind went blank several times. I was really confused. Fortunately Giuliana was there patiently helping me and giving me clues all the time. I did my best. At the end of the night I heard from il Capo, “I appreciated your work, the job is yours.” I was so happy, and at the same time I thanked Giuliana. She responded with the sweetest voice I’d heard,” You are great, it was my pleasure. I helped because you seem to be a nice guy.” I was unconditionally and irrevocably falling in love with this adorable girl. How was that possible? I had just met her two days before. I couldn’t understand how strong that feeling was. Perhaps it was the influence of the weather, those cold gray days had made me weak and lonely. She was so generous and gracious with me.
My second day of work was more comfortable than the first, I knew most things already, I just needed to learn the menu. I was getting better day by day. Giuliana and I became closer, sharing ideas and experiences. She wasn’t just a pretty face, I discovered she was intelligent. We also had many similarities, like having two young brothers, divorced parents, a passion for reading Agatha Christie and George Orwell. One day she told me one secret about our restaurant. It was hard to believe, but that particular building where we served delicious Italian food used to be a funeral parlour about 30 years ago. I became terrified I couldn’t have imagined that.
Two weeks had passed already, and it was on Thursday. I woke up badly in that morning, feeling something wrong with the day. It was absolutely cold. When I left home I noticed white stuff on the grass, New Zealanders call it frost. It was new for me. I wasn’t well, I felt sad and a little depressed. But I had to go to school. In the class I couldn’t focus on my studies, because Giuliana was in my mind all the time. When I arrived home I made the decision to open my heart to her the following night. I was right about my feelings, and I couldn’t lie to myself.
The cold was hurting my soul. Nevertheless I put on my work uniform and went to the job as if I was going to war. My courage and conviction would help me to declare my love for Giuliana. When I arrived at my work I ran to every single corner to find her. The restaurant was empty. I thought to myself, “where is everyone?” I stopped in the centre of the room, and for the first time I looked carefully at the pillars. My eyes moved to the wood roof and followed to the altar. I asked to myself, "Is that a real altar? How could I not notice it before?” How many people had been veiled in that dark location? How many more had cried for a lost loved person? So much suffering, anguish and sadness. I was shocked with my perception. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump from my chest. I broke down in tears, I wanted to run off, but I bumped into the Chef. He asked me, “What are you doing here?” I said, “Where are the other staff ?” He stared deeply into my eyes, "Why are you wearing the uniform? We are not open tonight, I'm calling to cancel all the bookings. As you know last night one of the waitresses, Giuliana, went out for a drink with some friends. They were drunk and there was a car crash. There were any survivors. I thought you knew?! I am so sorry Thiago"
My hope was like smoke... I lost my love, my friend, my joy... I was extremely distressed, broke down and cried for the rest of the night. I never went back to the restaurant after that painful day.
My hope was like smoke... I lost my love, my friend, my joy... I was extremely distressed, broke down and cried for the rest of the night. I never went back to the restaurant after that painful day.
My precious Giuliana had became an angel. I learned from her that we should never keep our emotions to ourselves. We must express our sentiments any way we can, it doesn’t matter who we have them for. Life has changed for me in different ways. I want to make those who are part of me happy, even though depression is perpectuated on me. I always try to tell my friends how much I love them. The most important time in our life is the present, today and now. We can guess about the future but, we never actually know how it is going to be.
I miss Giuliana. Her scent is still with me, but our sweet kiss was only real in my dreams.
amarothi
Photo: Moacyr Medeiros Alves
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