If the light shines in the hearts of those who hear.
My people proudly say on every front,
The anthem of the country, the bright gloss of the language.
If it increases the reputation,
Such is the power of words, oh well done.
If you love your tongue, blood flows in the veins,
My native language is inherited from my grandfathers.
If you love your language, you will find a place in any field.
If the world loves the Uzbek language, it will be my language.
I value my soul like gold,
I will give my life for my tongue.
We, the Asrayites, are our heritage, like our ancestors.
It is strong even for barley grain.
My Uzbek people, let’s celebrate the language holiday,
Let’s celebrate the birth of a beautiful language.
Let the world know, the whole world, let the nations know,
Great respect of the Uzbeks who speak the language.
Shamsiyeva Gavhar was born in Zarafshan, Navoi region. In addition to science classes, he practices poetry. He has taken pride of place in several republican contests. Her future dream is to win the state award named after Zulfia.
the endless desires of a generation that never got the chance to make those desires come true
—————————————————–
games on the radio
some soft music
as we all wait
to die
listening to an
old guy talk
about listening
to baseball games
on the radio back
in the fifties
he pauses
thinks of something
and then starts
about politics
the war has taken
something out of
us all
there is no rush
we’re all going to
be in the ground
soon enough
——————————————————————
election day
i marvel at people who
are proud to be stupid
who picked themselves
up by those proverbial
bootstraps yet still don’t
understand how the game
is played
and here come the outsiders
the grifters that know there
is always some dumb fuck
to make tons of money off of
i sit back and watch
and just laugh
my father was one of those
dumb asses
he always thought he was
smarter than anyone else
in the room
i stole from him much
of my life
money, baseball cards,
whatever i knew that dumb
fuck wouldn’t notice was gone
when i heard the stories that
his second wife drained the
pension and let him die
penniless in the VA
i just shook my head and knew
he never learned his lesson
apparently, no one ever does
———————————————-
haven’t found a sheep yet
thumbing
through the
pages of a
magazine
hoping to
find a
beautiful
face to
lose my
imagination
ini don’t think this old farm magazine is going to do the trick
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He’s been published in many places over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Mad Swirl, The Rye Whiskey Review and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Trevor sat in his fancy new ergonomic computer chair, an early Christmas gift from his parents. The spare, sandy-haired man was seated comfortably in the open-space public assistance office, where he worked as a caseworker, managing welfare cases. He had been so employed for almost a year. This chair, he thought sadly, as high-tech as it was, couldn’t prevent his hands from shaking. Sometimes it was worse than others; just now, his hands quavered furiously. Clearly, this was not a good day.
Into the room strode Bert, a colleague at the agency, just back from lunch, who observed Trevor’s affliction with the usual bemusement. He took off his winter coat, placed his Starbucks cup on his desk, which was next to Trevor’s, turned to the other man and said, “Hey, Tremor, what’s up?”
Trevor instantly became self-conscious and tried to hide his twitching fingers. Bert’s coarse misuse of his name only added tension to an already tense situation.
Bert picked up his coffee, took a sip, smiled winsomely, but said nothing. The genius to his technique of torturing Trevor lay in levying the insults and putdowns only half the time. Always keep him wondering when the other shoe would drop, thought Bert smugly. To that end, Bert unwrapped a stick of gum and slowly placed it on his tongue, watching the other man from the corner of his eye. He chewed rapidly, soon getting the wad of gum limber. Then he began loudly popping it. He smiled with satisfaction as Trevor reacted severely to the chewing and to the sounds.
Trevor, who already suffered the early stages of Parkinson’s Disease, had only recently been diagnosed by his neurologist as also suffering from misophonia, a condition in which the patient exhibits untoward reactions to certain “trigger’ sounds, such as lip smacking, gum popping, dogs barking, clocks ticking, or people chewing with their mouths open. As a result of this condition, Trevor routinely frowned, sighed, or even stared at his nemesis. Which only encouraged Bert all the more. Also accompanying these reactions were increased heart rate, panic, anger, and a strong, almost desperate desire to escape the source of the trigger sounds. Just now, Trevor glared balefully at the other man. Bert smirked.
“What can I do about it, Dr. Patel?” Trevor had asked, when told of the diagnosis. “How do we treat it?”
The physician shrugged indifferently. “There is no treatment,” he told him bluntly. “You can wear sound-deadening headphones or play music or,” he suggested, “ask your co-workers to stop their annoying behavior.”
Trevor had had this condition since he was nine or ten years old—more than twenty years ago—though in those days there was no available diagnosis.
“Trev,” said his father, when the young man was eleven, “pretend that dog’s not there; that’s a boy!”
“Mom and Dad are going to take you to a shrink,” threatened Trevor’s brother, two years older and embarrassed by his sibling’s constant overreactions to ordinary sounds.
The malady was still relatively unknown. Even today, Trevor’s own MD has never even heard of the condition.
Throughout school, Trevor had felt that he wore a cloak of misfortune that no one else seemed to understand. Bert knew none of this; he knew only that Trevor was “different” and “sensitive” and must therefore be punished.
“Want a piece of gum, Tremor?” asked Bert, cracking the Juicy Fruit between his molars. Trevor closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and mentally placed himself somewhere far away. Snap! went Bert’s gum, and Trevor was brought back to the present, nearly sobbing with frustration. He felt a bead of perspiration on his forehead. He had to do something!
Trevor sprang suddenly to his feet and called out, “Ms. Shaefer, could I have a word?”
Norma Schaefer, the office manager, also returning from lunch, frowned unhappily at Trevor but crooked a finger. What was it this time? She thought peevishly. “A quick minute,” she said. He followed her into her private office, dropped into a chair before her desk.
Once they were both seated, Trevor explained his recent diagnosis, described his symptoms, both physical and mental, and, in spite of his abject embarrassment, appealed to her for help. He had previously had to account for his tremor, which was due to Parkinson’s, because some of his welfare clients, as well as his co-workers, had questioned his sobriety and his sanity. Some had even conjectured that he was undergoing withdrawal from alcohol or drugs.
“What do you expect me to do about it?” she asked impatiently. “I mean, I’ve never heard of this condition, and besides, how can I tell employees they can’t chew gum?”
“It’s just the popping,” he stressed, “and chewing with their mouths open; it’s not gum chewing itself. It’s the noise.”
Norma’s mouth formed a straight, unhappy line. “Look, Trevor, we already stopped employees from smoking. Many of them substitute gum for cigarettes, and I think that’s a good thing.” At his disspirited look, she pounced: “Maybe casework isn’t the right job for you…” He looked up sharply. “You just don’t seem very happy here,” she added, with feigned concern. You have little to say to anyone; you’re not even signed up for the secret Santa gift exchange this Christmas.”
Trevor thought back to the office Thanksgiving party, which had been held only the week before. Sitting by himself in the break room, he had witnessed Norma herself eating noisily at the next table.
She sounds like a garbage disposal, he thought wearily, looking dismally at the otherwise elegant woman. “What are you staring at?” she demanded, dropping a Buffalo wing back onto her plate. “Don’t stare at me!” Her loud chewing hadn’t seemed to bother anyone else, he’d noticed.
Trevor blew out a tired breath. Norma spoke again, drawing him back to the present: “Your work is adequate,” she conceded, “but if you can’t get along with the other employees and you aren’t happy here, then maybe you should consider a change.” And she left it at that, stealing an overt glance at her watch. Pushing himself to his feet, Trevor exited the manager’s office, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Thirty days later, just in time for Christmas, found Trevor, master’s degree and all, sweeping the breezeway that bisected the strip mall where he now worked as a maintenance worker and groundskeeper. The air was cold, the wind brisk, but he didn’t mind. The salary was scarcely adequate, but at long last he had found what he most coveted: peace and quiet. He sighed and smiled a little. Peace. It was so sweet.
I stood up from my cubicle and shouted, “Michael! Your report is due today!” A red-faced Michael stood up and piped back, “I thought Gurinder was working on it! To which the sheepish turbaned Sikh Gurinder responded, “Almost done Alana!”.
You see, I’m Alana, a native of Guatemala. My uncle had escaped with me in 2010 during the drug fights with the government, leaving my mother and father behind.
Michael, Gurinder and I, besides being co-workers were good friends. Michael swung by and said, “Come on ninita (little girl), let’s break for lunch!” To which I responded, “OK, big guy!” Our office was on the 14th floor of a high rise building in Manhattan, so the three of us took the elevator down to the ground floor. As we walked out the hallway Gurinder suggested, “Hi guys, I feel like a taco. Can we go to this nice Taqueria around the corner?”
“Gurinder, how come you like tacos?”, I asked. Gurinder leaned sideways, straightened his turban and said waving his arms, “You know it tastes like Indian food a little, plus I love the refried beans!”
Sitting down, together at the restaurant I looked at us and remarked, “You know, we have three nationalities here – Irish, Indian and Guatemalan. This table is like a mini–United Nations!”. To which Michael smiled with his toothy smile and replied, “Yeah, only in America. This place is like a melting pot with people from all over the world.”
We were an engineering company and mid-afternoon, Gurinder got his report finished for the boss, and judging from the smile on the boss’s face through his window office, it seems like he had done a good job. He stopped by at my cubicle and wiped his brow like we was wiping off a lot of sweat and said, “Whew, Alana, I was worried about that one!” To which I responded, “Don’t worry, you’re a good engineer! If only you didn’t dilly dally and wait till the deadline to finish it.” To which he gave his sheepish smile and retorted, “I know, I need a tough gal like you to remind me!”
It was Friday and at the end of the day, Michael swung by and said to Gurinder and I, “Hi guys, my birthday is on Sunday, but I am celebrating it at my apartment with a dance party tonight. Can you guys come?” My eyes were wide, “Michael! Your birthday was coming up and you didn’t tell us?” To which he replied, “It’s not a big deal – just one more joyous revolution around the sun!” Trust Michael to give everything a planetary twist. To which Gurinder and I replied, “We’ll be there!
That was quite an evening! Gurinder did his very energetic Bhangra dance, jumping up and down and round and round, while shaking his shoulders and pointing his fingers. It was a fun dance and a good cardio workout. Then Michael walked over to me and asked me if I would like to try some ballroom dancing. “Who me? I’ve never done it in my life!”, I replied. He said, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you”. So, he taught me how to do the fox-trot dance – that was not too tough, but I was nervous. He then put on some slower music, and we did some fox-trot – it was easier than I thought. Gosh, he was so gentle and romantic – different from the Michael I had known till then. As he swung me around in his arms, I felt an affection for him that I had not felt before. Anyway, we cut cake for his birthday and all the folks cheered and sang the happy birthday song. I was tired by then and decided to take off. As I went to sleep that night, I thought it great to have such good friends that are fun and considerate!
I had just had coffee that morning and got a call from my mother. I was barely awake and blurted out, “Mama, why are you calling me so early?” But she was not thrown off by that, and said affectionately to me, “Alana dear, we miss you. Things have improved where we are now, and Papa is doing better financially. Can you come back now and be with us? There are job opportunities now that have opened up.” My father spoke up in the background, “The government of Guatemala has begun to take climate change seriously and develop some better commitments as per the Paris Agreement, but they need good, educated people. You’ve always complained about climate change issues – now it’s a good time to come and join their effort!”
As the only child, I told them I would think about it, or better yet, come back for a visit to Guatemala and then decide. I thought and I thought, and I thought – I would miss my friends and work in New York, But maybe I could catch up on that later. Right now, my family was calling, and I always wanted to help with some of the things my dad talked about. Why not give it a try?
On Monday, as I sat in our work lunchroom with Michael, Gurinder, and Alicia (another of our co-workers) I turned to them and said, “Hi guys my family wants me go back to Guatemala and help them and take up some work on environmental issues”. Michael was shaken and the look on his face was one of dismay. Gurinder put his face between his hands.
“OK guys, I know I will miss you big time, but we can stay in touch and keep visiting?”
Michael was the first to speak, “Alana, you will leave a big hole here at work and our friendships. But it if you want to do it, you should do it”. Gurinder said, “That’s how I feel too Alana, but I’ve always admired your guts and so gal, go and do it! We’ll support you from here!”. Later my boss was taken aback, but he said,” Hello Alana, if that’s what you want to do then go for it! If business stays good, we’ll always have a position for you.”
So, I hugged my friends and before I knew it, I was on a flight to Guatemala City. As the plane took off, I had mixed feelings. I would really miss Michael, Gurinder and Alicia. But I was looking forward to seeing my parents and spending some time with them, while helping with stuff I was passionate about. Guatemala City is one of the biggest cities in Central America and it looked great as I looked out of the window as we approached for a landing. “We will be landing at Guatemala City in five minutes.”, bawled out the flight attendant in English and then Spanish. Past immigration, my face lit up as I saw my father, Esteban. “Papa, I’m so happy to see you.” I gave him a big hug! Gosh, how much I had missed him. “My little Alana. Me too. Como estas (How are you)?”“I’m good Papa” I replied. Boy had he aged – there were so many more wrinkles on his face, and he had tanned. We drove up north to the centrally located city of San Cristobal Verapaz, and then up to the village of Queja up in the hills where Papa had moved after retirement. Papa had built this nice villa up next to the village after retirement, as he said he wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of crowded cities. Standing in the doorway was my mother Brisa, all smiles. I ran up the walkway, feeling like a little girl and gave her a big hug. “Mami, I missed you. It’s so good to be back with you”. I said.“So good to have you back my chica (little girl)!” Boy did she get busy cooking my favorite dishes. My favorite was Kak’ik, traditional Mayan turkey soup with spices like coriander, achiote, and chile peppers.
As I looked around, I was lucky to land a job with the Guatemalan Coordinating Agency for Disaster Reduction (CONRED), which was the government agency for dealing with natural disasters and aimed to prepare before, respond better during and do better reconstruction after such disasters. This only made a lot of sense as climate change was making the climate related disasters worse every year, and Guatemala had both a high probability of such disasters and for many reasons was more vulnerable which increased the risks of damage.
It was so different switching from working in English to working in Spanish (Espaniol), but my language skills came back. Also, my English-speaking skills helped our communications with United Nations agencies, especially UNDRR, the global UN disaster risk reduction agency. My boss was a paunchy amiable man named Kaapo (which meant bravest man). He was always dressed well in a suit and tie, but he usually discarded the coat and tie when it was hot and muggy. He looked me in the eye and said, “It is hurricanes that need the most attention, Alana, and so please help improve the plans we have in place”.
It was September and hurricane season was fast approaching and so I got cracking. The local expert warned me, “It’s the coastal areas that suffer from high wind speeds and storm surges, but it’s the hilly areas that get the most rain and suffer from flooding, landslides and mudslides. I started looking around the country and realized that the coastal areas to the east were prone to Atlantic hurricanes and the communities need to be made resilient for high winds (roofs and structures) and high-water surges (get the utilities to upper floors and have upper floors to escape to).
Back at the house, sleeping here was so different from that at my New York apartment.
Windows open and sounds of the forest. I was lying awake tossing and turning, and I was surprised I was thinking so much about Michael. I had felt alive in his arms while dancing and had felt a great affection for him.
So, I wasn’t surprised that I was on the phone calling him next morning. “Michael, how are you? How are things at work?”
“Alana, now that’s a pleasant surprise! We miss you. How are you?”
“I’m good. You know it’s been so different here from New York. I’m enjoying it with Mami and Papa and enjoying my work with CONRED too. I miss you too. I think you should take a vacation and come visit us – it’s so scenic and beautiful here!”
“Let me talk to the boss and see what I can manage. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know. Bye and miss you my dear”.
I felt exhilarated by that. He had not only agreed to visit but had also called me “my dear”. For me it was Whoopee and I jumped up and down in my room.
Next day, from my room I could see the nice town of San Cristobal Verapaz down below and since I was working from home, I could see the hustle and bustle. Suddenly my cell phone rang, and it was Michael!! “Hi Alana, my boss agreed to let me have a vacation for a couple of weeks. Will let you know my itinerary. I’m looking forward to seeing you!”
“That’s just super Michael. I’ll reserve a hotel for you here and pick you up at Guatemala City airport”. I was surprised that my heart was throbbing so much. What did he mean to me?
It was late October 2020. Michael stepped out of the terminal, and I was so happy to see him. We hugged and he said, “Como estas senora? (How are you madam?)”.
“Wow, Michael, you learned some Spanish!” I was beaming.
“Well, my dear, I knew I will need it, so I learned a little bit” He smiled.
We got quickly into the car as we could not wait too long at the curb, and we headed up north. He checked into the hotel, and I gave him and the hotel staff instructions on food and other things he may need.
“I’m sooo happy you are here Michael. Your US cell phone works here. I have a full day of sight-seeing for you tomorrow. I’ll come and pick you up at 8 in the morning.” We hugged and I took off.
Next morning, I was full of anticipation, and I wore a nice floral dress. When he stepped out of the hotel in a t-shirt and shorts, he looked so handsome! My heart missed a beat.
“I have a full day of sight-seeing for you dear Michael – a beautiful lake Chicoj and then a visit to a nice coffee growing location. Is that OK?”. “Sure, you’re the expert – let’s roll” He smiled.
I was day to remember. We went to the coffee growing place first and saw how they grow coffee using mainly organic and sustainable practices. It was a good walk together. I then took him to a scenic lake, and we started to walk around. I must have walked ahead and then suddenly turned around and ran into him. I flushed and said, “I’m sorry Michael!”. “No need to be sorry, Alana” and he smiled. That broke the ice between us, and he reached out and held my hand and hugged me – gosh, he was so handsome. He reached out and held my face in one of his hands and kissed me. My whole body shook with pleasure. That was how we spent the rest of the day, holding each other and kissing deeply and romantically the rest of the day as we walked around the lake. Each time he would turn around and give me a deep kiss and I was getting weak with pleasure. This was too good to be true!
We had dinner back at the hotel, enjoying some good wine and some of the local dishes! Then Michael asked me, “Hi girl, I wanted to show you some photos of Gurinder and I. You want to come up to my room?”. I nodded yes and we headed up to his room. I was nervous as hell and wondering if I was doing the right thing.
We sat down together on the sofa, and he opened up his laptop and began to show me his recent photos with Gurinder. That Sikh was looking so great and full of smiles and then with some silly selfies – boy, I missed him as he had been such a good friend – kind beyond words. Michael set the laptop aside and then turned to me and gave me the most romantic deep kiss I had ever experienced. I embraced him and said, “Ooooh Michael, I am so happy you are here and that you like me so much!”. I was full of anticipation when he lifted me up and put me down on the bed and we quickly undressed and embraced and hugged and kissed. I had expected him to be rough, and so I couldn’t believe how gentle and loving he was as he kissed me fondly all over and I was in pure delight. I then kissed him back in turn all over and he groaned and responded.
He then entered me and we were locked in a tight embrace, kissing and making love like you would not believe. I could not have imagined that it could be so good. My whole body and soul responded, and I then exploded and shook holding him tightly in me. We then lay with each other in each other’s arms for quite some time. He went up on his elbows over me, and smiled and said, “That was the best thing that has happened in my life my dear. I think I’ve fallen in love with you!” I smiled and looked into is eyes and replied,”Yeah, that was too good to be true. I love you too”. And so began our romance.
The next day I took Michael up to visit my parents. My father took one look at him and smiled, and my mother was bubbly. I thanked my stars that they like Micheal. My father said he would introduce Michael to some interesting people in town on San Cristobal Verapaz. So, that is what he did the next day.
That was good as I got really busy with my work. Besides the disaster preparedness activities, I got to see and know about things related to climate change – people and organizations were building solar systems, making electricity greener, building water harvesting structures to store and reuse rainwater, and learning and practicing organic agriculture that increased the carbon in the soil.
Michael was spending time with my parents and enjoying the hills. My boss sent me off to Guatemala City for a meeting that was doing the planning for hurricane season which this year (2020) was one of the most active ones. I was sitting in a meeting room when we got the news that hurricane Eta was approaching in the Caribbean. So the focus shifted from general planning to preparations for Eta. We quickly had local and national meetings to ask all communities to prepare to move and have emergency supplies as needed. We ordered evacuations from some of the coastal areas as they would be hit by storm surges and heavy flooding.
I called and talked to my parents and asked them to be alert and safe. I called Michael and he said he had decided to move and stay with my parents up at their villa as it may be safer than in town that was known for flash flooding.
The warmer than normal waters of the Gulf of Mexico increased the energy of Eta, so that by the time it hit us it was a Category 4 hurricane. Our staff and I hunkered down in a safe hotel a little inland and prepared for the storm. It hit us hard. It was knocking down trees, making roofs fly and the heavy rains were causing flooding. Communication towers were getting knocked out so phone lines were down.
We received word through emergency satellite communications that there was very heavy rain in the area of San Cristobal Verapaz. Worse, it was reported that there were heavy mudslides and landslides in the hills around. Oh no! That was bad news, and I became really worried for my parents and Michael. There was no phone service and there was no way to reach them by phone.
The next day, after the storm had died down, I informed my boss and started driving. There was destruction everywhere and I was lucky that the highways were still clear, and roads were not damaged. When I reached the city near my folks and started to drive up to my parent’s villa, I was blocked by emergency workers as the road was closed due to landslides. So, I parked by the roadside and got out of my car. That’s when my emergency satellite phone gave me the worst news of all. My boss informed me that they had received news that the village of Queja (where my folks lived) was buried in rivers of mud and that emergency workers were trying to dig up bodies from the landslide.
I was absolutely horrified. I sat in my car and put my head between my hands and cried like I had never done before. Dear God, what had I done to deserve such a tragedy to my family and the love of my life dear Michael?
When the road was cleared by bulldozers, I drove up the hill and got close to my parent’s villa. I could see that it was totally buried in the river of mud that had come down. Emergency workers were using shovels and machines to try and dig people up quickly. I sat on a rock nearby and was devastated – I cried and cried and cried. Regular phone services had been knocked out, so their phones were not responding. What was I going to do?
Just then someone tapped me on my shoulder, and I turned around and was totally surprised! “My dear Chica!” my father cried pretty soon I was locked in an emotional embrace of my father, mother and Michael. For me this was the best day of life. “The emergency service had asked us to move to a nearby community center on the nearby hill that they thought would be safer, and luckily the worst part of the landslide avoided us. But there are many buried in the mud in our village. Let’s pray for them!”
I was overjoyed as I embraced Michael, and my body shook with waves of crying and tears of joy! “I was so worried about you my love”, I said. To which he replied, “We were worried about you too as the news was that the coastal areas were devastated”. I sat down on the rock with him with my parents on one side and then smiled and smiled and smiled as tears flowed down my cheeks. God had been so kind to me!!
The next few days were spent living in the emergency shelter in the city down below. Gurinder came few days later to help. That was so great of him! People were so awed by this turbaned Sikh who showed such compassion. They asked him how come he came to help. He said, “First, I had to help my friends Alana and Michael. Then our spiritual leaders have taught us to work for the good of all”. How could I not come and help?” We thanked him for his good heart and his help. Gurinder and Michael went off to shop in the few shops that were still open in the city.
Next day, Michael and I went and romanced around our favorite lake. This time was different and even more intense. We sat on a bench around the lake, and I sat on his lap facing him with my legs astride and we kissed and kissed and kissed. I looked him in the eyes and told him, “Don’t you ever give me a heart attack like that. I thought I had lost you. I realized I love you more than anything in the world!” He kissed me with one of the most romantic kisses ever as he pulled me into a tight embrace. “I will always stay alive and care for you. You are my heart and soul! Te amo mi amor!” (I love you my sweetheart – in Spanish). I was overjoyed and rested my head on his chest.
Soon, he made me get up and sit on the bench by myself. I said, “What happened? Are you mad at me?” He smiled and before I knew it he knelt before me and then opened a little box that had the most beautiful ring in the whole world. I was shocked and could not believe it. He then smiled and said, “My dear Alana, will you marry me?” The soul inside me cried out “Yes!” “I bought it when I went shopping with Gurinder yesterday” and he laughed out loud. I went and sat on his knee as he slipped the ring on my finger.
The weeding was a quick one as Michael had to get back to work. It was a great wedding by Guatemalan standards but austere because of the disaster. Gurinder of course entertained us by his Bhangra dance and taught many of the girls and women how to dance. They taught him some Guatemalan dances and I was geeting the feeling there may be some romance developing. Michael and I got a special suite in a hotel and enjoyed our honeymoon night. We had the most romantic night of our lives as we hardly slept and did love making all night long. It was just heavenly!
Gurinder and Michael took off next day as they had to get off to work. My boss called me and together with him I got busy in all the tasks of disaster recovery. We had to help the communities to “Build Better Back” so they would be ready for the next hurricanes and storms and needed to be more resilient. We guided the communities on how they needed to build better and be better prepared. It was tough going as the funds were short, although US and United Nations aid helped the recovery.
Pretty soon I found out that I was pregnant. I called Michael and broke the news to him. He was overjoyed. “I am so happy for us my love. I am so excited for our baby and that we are starting our family”. “You better come and be with me later as I need you mi amor (my love)!’ “For sure, I’ll be there next month to be with you”, he said.
As expected, I was beginning to look more and more pregnant and started slowing down my work activities. Michael called me and sure enough he was there with me. My parents had built another small house near their old villa after the ruins had been cleared away, so that is where we stayed. My pregnancy did not reduce our passionate love making although we had to be careful about the baby.
As usual, we went one evening to our favorite lake and sat on the bench where he had proposed to me. The lake and the hills were looking so beautiful as the sun was setting. I sat in his arms with our cheeks close together. Michael reached over and touched my stomach. Just then the baby kicked. “Did you feel that?” I said. Baby is active like you” he said, smiling.
“I hope the world comes to its senses and starts doing something about solving climate change. It’s so peaceful. Let’s prepare for our baby!” he said.
