When hope begins to fade.
This morning, Manuel was on my mind. It has now been some four long years since the last time I was able to contact Manuel ( real first name, I’ll hold the last name…). Last time, as it usually went, I sent a Skype message to him and, within 3 days, he would call back, send a message or communicate. That last conversation came in late morning for me, late at night for him. He was then in Vietnam, still pursuing the impossible dream and working in an environment that raised the hackles in the back of my head. He made it a happy call, telling me about his then-current purpose and showing me around ( virtually, of course ) the place where he lived and worked. This was a multi-room apartment shared with a good number of people who, I must assume, were pursuing similar purposes. This is -from my own past experiences- a highly volatile and frustrating environment, where a phone call can trigger any number of probabilities. Most of them harsh and explosive. We talked for a while, and he...