Tuesday, 31 July 2018

Maria

1968.
The kibbutz only accepted groups of Swiss volunteers.

The Swiss were polite, hard workers, did not smoke pot and could often play an instrument, which was a bonus for the kibbutz orchestra.
Strange that, a Marxist-Zionist kibbutz being enamored with the most bourgeois of bourgeois volunteers.

Maria was a shy and demure Swiss volunteer.
She used to stare at me a lot. It was a sad and forlorn look, a bit unnerving.
I started talking to her and we hit it off. My friends noticed we were spending time together, and ribbed me about her name.

One thing led to another, but she had demons she was battling.
After a time she told me about them.
The year before, she had worked as an au-pair in Morocco.
One day she missed her stop on the bus to her host family and had to walk back a stop, past a park.
A man (or men, I cannot remember) grabbed her, pulled her into the park and raped her.

Eventually we did start a relationship. It was the kind you start not knowing where it is heading.
Actually, it turned into mainly a physical relationship that lasted for about three months.

We were not really suited for each other. She used to try to entice me with stories about how she could make delicious cheese fondue.
I am not too keen on cheese fondue, I am a meat person.

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