A sunday. Waking up demolished by cigarettes and the beers of last night. Breathing the sleeping beauty, turning over like a resting froth of a smooth morning sky, feeling her lashes tickled by my chest hair, her breath on my blue heart. The cats roaming over us, playing with ghostly toes and the tousled dawn.
“Ohayou, Kayo.”
“Ohayou, Florian.”
We lie in white silence, as long as the cats allow us. The fan is still on its beat, with its certain and constant click after three rounds. Our clothes waving in, stringed on a bamboo. From outside the day surges through the only and open window, just sealed against mosquitos and with a row of more bamboo. I love bamboo. You can build or kill with. But not today, it´s sunday. Pots clashing, a baby´s cry, my neighbours start their day as always by sunrise. We whisper still. Our bodies whisper, telling us our dreams and what we plan to do today.
We take our showers. It´s always dawn or dusk down where we sleep and have our bathroom. It´s alwas quite down there, where we rest, where we are just us.
We move upstairs, carrying laptops, empty water bottles or cats. Upstairs the first window we pass opens the outside and uncovers the day. Ragnar, the kitten yells, not for food, not for cat food, but for hurry up preparing breakfast as he is the annoying seatmate, and a cute one. We wander and rest, at the stove to cook, at the refrigerator to set the table. There is no music, no disturbance and if so, it would disappear dazed and boot-faced. As all this is not existence. We don´t talk a lot. We do what we do and be who we are. And realising this, I turn around, pull Kayo towards me, “Ai shiteru” in my broken japanese. She laughs. I kiss her and we continue what we started.
“Itadakimasu!”
Itadakimasu.”
“Oishi!”
We eat. We share what is on the table, not with Ragnar though, his cuteness has limits. We check our emails. We talk. Slowly and clear, in short sentences, respectful and aware of the cultural difference. There is no ego, no shame or justification. We talk to learn about and from each other.
“Ai shiteru.” She says and smiles. I want to love her, now!
After, we jump on our motorbike and go shopping, initiated by the need of cat food. Siem Reap is half awake. The party is over for one day trip to Angkor Wat or resting and hanging over poolside. Or just not wake up, stay inside and hide your booze face in the pillow. Thank you. My throat has meanwhile cleared up and the couple of beers are past. And I am here, I am here. How I enjoy to be here and not stucked anymore, too often, let´s say frequently, in the gap of bars and unsubstantial cheats and chats. I am here with Kayo and we laugh. I love her smile, so I try to make her laugh. And finally she makes me laugh. Ending up laughing is not bad for a sunday in Siem Reap. We have a small lunch, we share and wait for the question what we gonna have for dessert as we both crave for sweets. We go back, entering our house, kicking the gate open with the front wheel, realising she also lives here, we live here, sometimes lets me wake up of this stunning reality. Reality is amazing! We feed the cats. We do this and that. A house needs its holds of course. I water the plants. Kayo laughs behind me, in her hammock, with her laptop, typing in letters from another world, where she is from, where she came to meet me, here. She know I don´t like plants inside of the house. Plants always die in my hands, “but I try to keep them alive to suffer as long as possible.” She laughs. Ragnar yells at me.
Later on we drive to 60 Road Market to have an early dinner, cambodian noodles, vegetarian, probably the healthiest dish you can find in a country of gibs and fetuses. The ride is less then 10 min from our home. A busy road with lots of stalls and fruits I haven`t tasted yet, not only because I have no idea how to prepare them for my tongue, insects I want to taste again, as they always surprise me with their deliciousness. We sit roadside. Locals passing by, gazing, wondering, smiling. The sun behind rain heavy clouds, spreading some last redish hotness into the blue pale sky. We laugh with locals. We laugh about us.
At around 10 pm we fall asleep, wathcing a documentary. Kayo at the edge of the bed as she doesn´t want to disturb the clumsy wide stretched insolence of the resting cats. I kick them out of bed, shut the laptop, she switches meanwhile the light off, collects the cats, bring them back into bed and we all sleep. I can feel her eye lashes in my chest hair twickling…
