Photography is my necessity. It’s the key in which I unlock all the mysteries of the world. But above all, it’s how I escape the anxiety that dwells within me every now and then.
But I’m usually a very optimistic person. My name is Julia and I’m a journalist by profession, but my passion is photography. I saw a documentary on these beautiful mosques in Khartoum and I just had to go see them! So I took a week off from work to go… live photography.
I hadn’t really planned this journey beforehand. It was all spontaneous – like all my other voyages. My fiancé Juan advised me to wait until the civil war had ended. I refused.
“Julia please! This is absurd, and you know it. At least let me come with you” He demanded.
I was too busy with my thoughts – packing all my things neatly and gracefully.
“Ugh here we go again” I said, in response to his bickering.
“Are you even listening to me? It’s dangerous out there! You can’t go alone – I forbid it. And you know I always want what’s best for you” He ranted.
“But-”
“No buts darling, unpack your stuff. I’ll call the airline. Tell them to cancel your flight. We can fly out to Spain, Greece, and France! There are tones of art galleries there that we can visit together. We’ll go to as many mosques as you want. And we can get married there. Hmm? Darling? Julia? That sound good to you?”
I shook my head in solemnity.
“No”
“Ok great I’ll call the air- what? Julia? No?”
“Juan! I’m not changing my mind. You want to go to all those countries, not me! This is once in a lifetime opportunity for me. Flying out to Spain, visiting art galleries in France, getting married in Greece… that’s you’re life-long dream. We both know it. You’re so voluble when it comes to talking about your needs, your wants. Have you… ever considered mine? Juan, I’m not asking you to come with me. I’m asking you to trust me; can you do that for me?”
A moment of silence passed. Juan stood uncomfortably, rubbing his chin and doubtfully eyeing the maroon carpet.
“I’ll… call you a cab” he spoke, apprehensively.
Juan flounced out of the room – and I thought I do something about it but instead I grabbed my suitcase and walked to the door. Before I closed the door, I picked up a photo of Juan and whispered, “See you soon babe”.
I walked to the front door and with each step, the luggage seemed more and more heavy. At one point my suitcase seemed impossible to pull. I dragged it full-force across the living room floor. It stopped halfway; and it wouldn’t budge. The wheels got tangled up by the carpet thread. Angrily, I pulled and pulled until the arm broke loose and knocked me to the floor. I fell head-first onto the brown polished floor. Juan came running in, followed by the Mexican cab driver.
“Julia! Are you okay? Julia? What happened? Are you hurt?”
The cab driver untangled the thread on the wheels. I twisted my foot, my head was spinning and the headache caused a blurry vision. ‘Why do incidents like this always happen to me?’ I thought. I’m so clumsy. Suddenly I burst out laughing in the middle of all the tension. Juan must have thought I was crazy.
“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” He said, puzzled at my eccentric outburst.
I chuckled loudly for a few minutes and then I whispered to Juan:
“Juan; we need a new carpet”
A light smile appeared on his face.
“Right …okay well we’re going to have to talk about that once you get back from Sudan because you, darling, have a plane to catch”
“What? Juan, am I hearing things or what?”
“Ha-ha nope! Julia, forgive me, I was being irrational earlier, if this is what you want, then I’m more than okay with it. You are a talented photographer, a great person and my better half. If this trip means this much to you, then go for it!”
“Really?”
“Sure, just – promise me you’ll give me a call as soon as you get there”
“Of course I will”
Juan murmured to the driver in Spanish – the drivers took my bag outside to the cab. Juan carried me into the back seat of the cab. The driver got in his seat and started the engine, when he looked back, Juan still hasn't shut the door.
“Juan, I have to go now okay?” I said, slowly pulling the door from his arm.
“I can go with you to the airport”
“… It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I promise”
Juan wasn’t convinced – but he eventually shut the door. I waved at him and the car drove off. He waved back – staring in anxiousness.
PART II, when Julia goes to Sudan is going to be a new blog called ‘ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS’… I’ll post soon.
I hadn’t really planned this journey beforehand. It was all spontaneous – like all my other voyages. My fiancé Juan advised me to wait until the civil war had ended. I refused.
“Julia please! This is absurd, and you know it. At least let me come with you” He demanded.
I was too busy with my thoughts – packing all my things neatly and gracefully.
“Ugh here we go again” I said, in response to his bickering.
“Are you even listening to me? It’s dangerous out there! You can’t go alone – I forbid it. And you know I always want what’s best for you” He ranted.
“But-”
“No buts darling, unpack your stuff. I’ll call the airline. Tell them to cancel your flight. We can fly out to Spain, Greece, and France! There are tones of art galleries there that we can visit together. We’ll go to as many mosques as you want. And we can get married there. Hmm? Darling? Julia? That sound good to you?”
I shook my head in solemnity.
“No”
“Ok great I’ll call the air- what? Julia? No?”
“Juan! I’m not changing my mind. You want to go to all those countries, not me! This is once in a lifetime opportunity for me. Flying out to Spain, visiting art galleries in France, getting married in Greece… that’s you’re life-long dream. We both know it. You’re so voluble when it comes to talking about your needs, your wants. Have you… ever considered mine? Juan, I’m not asking you to come with me. I’m asking you to trust me; can you do that for me?”
A moment of silence passed. Juan stood uncomfortably, rubbing his chin and doubtfully eyeing the maroon carpet.
“I’ll… call you a cab” he spoke, apprehensively.
Juan flounced out of the room – and I thought I do something about it but instead I grabbed my suitcase and walked to the door. Before I closed the door, I picked up a photo of Juan and whispered, “See you soon babe”.
I walked to the front door and with each step, the luggage seemed more and more heavy. At one point my suitcase seemed impossible to pull. I dragged it full-force across the living room floor. It stopped halfway; and it wouldn’t budge. The wheels got tangled up by the carpet thread. Angrily, I pulled and pulled until the arm broke loose and knocked me to the floor. I fell head-first onto the brown polished floor. Juan came running in, followed by the Mexican cab driver.
“Julia! Are you okay? Julia? What happened? Are you hurt?”
The cab driver untangled the thread on the wheels. I twisted my foot, my head was spinning and the headache caused a blurry vision. ‘Why do incidents like this always happen to me?’ I thought. I’m so clumsy. Suddenly I burst out laughing in the middle of all the tension. Juan must have thought I was crazy.
“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” He said, puzzled at my eccentric outburst.
I chuckled loudly for a few minutes and then I whispered to Juan:
“Juan; we need a new carpet”
A light smile appeared on his face.
“Right …okay well we’re going to have to talk about that once you get back from Sudan because you, darling, have a plane to catch”
“What? Juan, am I hearing things or what?”
“Ha-ha nope! Julia, forgive me, I was being irrational earlier, if this is what you want, then I’m more than okay with it. You are a talented photographer, a great person and my better half. If this trip means this much to you, then go for it!”
“Really?”
“Sure, just – promise me you’ll give me a call as soon as you get there”
“Of course I will”
Juan murmured to the driver in Spanish – the drivers took my bag outside to the cab. Juan carried me into the back seat of the cab. The driver got in his seat and started the engine, when he looked back, Juan still hasn't shut the door.
“Juan, I have to go now okay?” I said, slowly pulling the door from his arm.
“I can go with you to the airport”
“… It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I promise”
Juan wasn’t convinced – but he eventually shut the door. I waved at him and the car drove off. He waved back – staring in anxiousness.
PART II, when Julia goes to Sudan is going to be a new blog called ‘ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS’… I’ll post soon.