It was a June day, will do about six years. A friend of us had been diagnosed with a cancer with a fairly discouraging prognosis and had an emergency operated, They had put a highly aggressive chemotherapy treatment and she, In his fear of not going to endure until the end, He decided to move to a town in Germany where his sister lived, to endure the treatment in company and to entrust the gods to see if they could cure it. The Paris Hospital transferred the case to a Stuttgart hospital and the friend, In a juggling of medicalized transport, He went to the German countryside. We hadn't talked to her again, We sensed that it should be "good".
It was a June day, Paris was beautiful and summer and we walked through the garden des plants telling this story to our friend Nacho, whom we saw occasionally because he was a very busy man but with whom we were all very comfortable when he made his appearances, Every two months or three.
– What do you tell me! What a whore! Where do you say it is?
– In Germany.
– Yes, But where.
– About Stuttgart, It must be a minipueblo of these Germans of few inhabitants.
– That must be for the south ... what do you say what is called?
– I don't know ... well, Stuttgart is like a big city, But the sister lives in the countryside – We try to explain, Without truly getting our friend with her life hanging from a glass thread.
Nacho kept walking silently. Looking at the feet.
– On Saturday I go - said after a while.
– That?
– I'm going to see her on Saturday. I'm going to see her on Saturday, At twelve I'm in Stuttgart.
– But how are you going? By car? But when do you come back? Where are you going to stay? How are you going to know what people are? What if you don't want to see you? And if you don't find it? How are you going to locate it? Isn't it a lot of travel beating?
He did not have to give us an argument. I remember how from questions we fall directly in the arms of overwhelming obviousness. We went to Germany the four.
When on Saturday we left Paris had not yet dawn. Nacho was driving diligent and attentive and we barely stopped in a gas station to have a fast coffee and keep moving forward. It seemed clear that the target of the trip were not messing or fun, nor the rich food and the laughter.
Yet, They were.
I remember how from questions we fall directly in the arms of overwhelming obviousness. We went to Germany the four.
We arrive at Böblingen at lunchtime. We settle in a pleasant hotel with green windows, We explore the environment, We verify the maps and when the afternoon began to fall, We head, in the midst of conversations of anything, To our friend's sister's house, where they had told us that they were waiting for us at sunset.
Far from what each one had thought and what, By virtue of invisible respect we had not wanted to expose, When we knocked on the door of that house, hugs went out to receive us, joy, A happy girl, A country and nice couple and our friend, thinner, With the good humor that always had. They showed us a garden, The girl taught us how to choose cherries, They asked us how we liked the salad, If we prefer white or red. Our friend retired early and we were chatting with her family that gave us questions and answers, German meat and rich wine, made us intuit that everything was going well.
The affection was putting everything in order.
The whole trip was a break stereotypes, from the Germans frolicking on the grass to the cemetery with bicycles and sports
The two days that followed visited the town cemetery where people walk and children are bicycle, El Parque Wilhelma de Stuttgart, where students are thrown out of the grass, and the sources of the center where some varied birds that live in a near zoo are soaked. In the botanical garden we saw a class of Lindy Hop and Tai-Chi courses.
Sometimes our friend accompanied us and other times not. We had space for fraternity, The talk and for rural tourism. Like so many peoples who bind with the black jungle and universities, Böblingen gave space to enjoyment and to customs more typical of a Castilian village than of the German stiffness in which we usually believe.
The whole trip was a break stereotypes, from the Germans frolicking on the grass to the cemetery with bicycles and sports, From our sick friend laughing, joking and hugging carefully to the sincere enthusiasm of his family, away from the cloud of sadness Imagined, We tended arms really a joy. We say goodbye to them as a close family, In an exercise where the space for satisfaction was greater than the penalty of the farewell.
In the return car we talk about the meaning of life, We put music, Some sleep, We arrive in Paris at night with open hearts par.
Few trips, sincerely, They have given us as much energy in life as the joy of being a good friend in that German town.
