The Journalist

Part 47: He Who Has Shepherded My Sanity

Ameena seemed to be the answer to my question all along. Who am I craving? Where do I want to go? What was I expecting? All the questions that had been lodged in my head for a long time now had answers.

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I rode in the car with Ahmed and Mr. Ali's men. They were there first waiting for me. As soon as the road car slowly, I immediately looked back to see Ameena who was still standing there. As if to keep control of my departure.

"Did you deliver staple food every day to the refugee camp?" I'm trying to dig up information.

"Yes, that's it! Since it was revealed that the women in the refugee camp were being exploited for their needs, Mr. Ali asked us to distribute the proceeds from his plantations and farms" Ahmed replied.

"Mr Ali is very kind, huh?" my words amazed.

"Yes. Besides being kind, he was also very loyal to his late wife. There are many parents who offer their daughters to marry, but she subtly refuses."

"really? That's why ... Mr. Ali has not considered Ameena to be his wife?" I concluded carefully.

"Maybe it's like that. But, mister Ali is indeed very considerate of Ameena's sister. Always ask for any opinion on him. Until the issue spread skewed that Ameena is the woman of Mr. Ali, a kind of mistress. That is why the elders suggested that Mr. Ali immediately propose to him so as not to invite slanders that harm the sister of Ameena," Ahmed explained.

"Is ... Ameena .. like Mr Ali?" tanyaku.

"Ah, if it's about that .. I don't know. Sister Ameena is very cold to all men. Until now, I've never seen him smile let alone laugh."

"Oh, so ...." I was silent for a moment while imagining the beginning of our meeting up to this moment. It turns out he was like that. Expressionless. However, wasn't I a little lucky from Ahmed? I've seen him smile warmly, laugh small, to blush embarrassed.

"By the way, may I know, you usually come home at what time when you're done handing out your groceries to the nearest refugee camps?" I was trying to find out.

"Surely, we will spend the night first and go home in the morning. Usually we arrive in the village before the Maghrib" Ahmed replied.

"Oh, so."

That means I have to first arrive at the border before they precede me. I can't wait to go back to that place.

Upon arriving at the border of their territory, Ahmed opened the car's glass doors and called out to those on guard. "I will go to Aleppo to deliver food donations and also Mr. Ali's guests."

I opened my windshield, deliberately showing myself so that the guards could memorize my face if I came back here tomorrow.

"Is he the stranger who saved Mr. Ali's daughter?" asked one of the men in uniform complete with weapons after having a look at me.

Ahmed looked to the side. "Yes, he's Japanese. Don't worry, God willing he's a good young man!"

"Can we check it?"

"Please!" I said while getting out of the car.

"Where are you from? The japs? The chinese? Taiwan or Korea?" ask one of the men who wanted to check on me.

"I'm from Japan." I looked at the weapon he was carrying. That's a weapon that certainly does not compare to the government's militant forces.

"Oh, I find it difficult to distinguish people in those four countries. You guys look the same."

"I also find it difficult to distinguish between people in Middle Eastern countries and people in Southeast Asian countries like Thailand, Malaysia, the Philippines and Indonesia."

They then checked my whole body. Not only that, they also searched the contents of the backpack I was carrying. According to Ahmed, this village has never been entered by foreigners like me, not even journalists. Although in fact their territory has the protection of the Turkish government which is also in the separatist stronghold.

We continued our journey after they finished checking me out. During the trip, my lips could not stop smiling. My heart and feelings were still warm, as if the winter sunlight was hiding there. I don't know what this feeling is. If this is a feeling of love, do I have to get dragged back into the same complicated vortex as my love story with Yuna? I don't know ....

As soon as I entered the room, I put down my backpack and opened the door that connected the balcony area of the room. Do not dream of getting a beautiful natural scenery, or the magnificent city order filled with vehicles and tall buildings. None of that exists! As far as the eye could see only the building was destroyed.

I went back into the room, then sat on the edge of a large bed while enjoying coffee service at this hotel. I also directly contacted my friends because during my time there the telecommunications network was severed. They must be worried about me without news. I use a phone feature that connects four people at once.

"Ayano-san! You finally called us! From yesterday we were anxious" said Aoba.

"Hows it? Did you take the boy to his parents?" ask Eiji.

"You're okay, right?" continue So with an anxious tone.

The three of them did not stop bombarding me with consecutive questions. To answer their curiosity, I told them about my journey to find the abode of Khalila to meet warm and friendly people in the village.

"What?! So that kid is the daughter of the landlord in that village?" So, Eiji and Aoba were stunned when they heard the story about my meeting with Mr. Ali—ayah Khalila.

"Yes. But ... There's more to it than that. My camera ... was left there and I only realized it when I arrived in Aleppo" I stammered as it was the first time I had lied to them.

"Your camera left behind?" The sound of Aoba surprised me.

"Ayano, why are you so careless? That's the most expensive camera right now, we don't even have a camera like yours. What if someone takes your camera?" So scolding. He seemed even more worthy of being the owner of that camera because he kept nagging me.

"I'm sorry, I'm in too much of a hurry because I can't wait to go home and see you guys." Again, I said something that didn't fit the truth.

"Ayano, you have to go back to the village and get your camera!" eiji said as if to support my desire to return to Ameena's place.

"I also think like that. That's why I can't go back to Damascus yet" I said.

"But that place is too far away, isn't it? You should have prepared yourself to go back to Japan! The editor-in-chief has contacted us, saying there will be journalists dispatched here to replace your position during the holidays." Aoba reminded me not to forget the day my departure was approaching.

"I would regret not taking the camera" I replied. The truth is I'd regret not seeing Ameena before I go back to Japan.

I can't tell them that I met Ameena there too. Fortunately, they were all able to accept my reason for returning to that village. I also helped them compile the news for yesterday and today.

I kept turning to the window, hoping for the night to come soon and today to close quickly. If anyone says love is a stupid thing, it's true! There is madness in it that logic cannot understand. Just like I do now. My body was tired, but my eyes refused to close. I'd rather watch the clock move.

Finally the morning I was waiting for. I've been at the terminal since morning blind just so as not to miss the bus. Before leaving, I had time to buy candy and various snacks for the orphanage children. I still use the previous route, which was down in a small town that became a separation between government-controlled areas and rebel groups.

Mina-chan, we'll meet again soon ....

I'm like having time loop¹. Repeating the same activity in the same place. Now, I just have to wait for the car that took Ahmed and the caretakers of the orphanage to pass by in this town. However, until the sun sinks, the car has not yet appeared. I tried to get to this place before afternoon.

The darkness began to stretch. I still stand dumb in the solitude of this dead city. My mind is starting to get messed up. How am I supposed to get there if there's no car driving me?

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Footnote 🦶🦶

Time loop: a plot in which a character experiences a repetitive span of time.