Diary 7: Mon Etalon Péruvienne, Anternor! (My Peruvian Stallion, Anternor!)
“Aah…your accent is… so…so… clear and…erm… beautiful. I understand every word you saying. I can listen and listen you know…”, the broken English was shyly spoken with a detectable hint of breathless eagerness, our delightfully congenial and warm spirited hotel receptionist, the wonderful Mr Anternor from Peru, plunged instantly under my spell!
Always acting with routine formality when he served the other customers, in my presence he adorably thrust his chest out and beamed smiles so wide that I would urge climate scientists to consider his ebullient nature as one of the fundamental causes of the growing meltdown of icebergs at the two poles of the planet!
“So tell me, where are you from? You speak is so so so…..mmmmm. Not like Americans, I can never understand what they say!” Anternor’s shoulders were in the throes of a subtle sway, this chap was decisively smitten by my voice and my eloquence of speech and I rewarded him with a teasing pause in which time the black of his pupils grew larger.
“I am very touched by your compliments, thank you so very much! I am from England, a small town with a formidable regal history, it is called Winchester”, I simply loved how time and time again I was given the opportunity to widen the audience of acquaintances who come to know about my tiny city in which I grew up in.
“Aah, never been there. I been to Oxford and London. London, very expensive! Next time, I go to your town to see you, ok?” Mr Anternor’s enthusiasm was truly inspiring, what a darling of a man! He did not come across as the creepy sort that most of You might have jumped to the conclusion to at this point. Far from it, Mr Anternor’s character shone with the honeyed nostalgia of the friendliness of strangers one tends to find in the countryside. For me, he was a fellow kindred spirit, complimenting my own connecting nature and, evidencing confirmation once again that even in the greatest of cities, irrespective of their impersonal and alienating maps, You are bound to make at least one good mate! I found mine in Mr Anternor, my Peruvian stallion!
“Of course, of course, it will be an amazing pleasure to welcome you to Winchester! Do come and see me, I shall be waiting!” And to these words Mr Anternor lifted off the ground a few inches, he had received the best commission of the day!
“Thank you, thank you. You know, your voice…. I….I think very nice…” He was definitely Peruvian, for he felt no shame at all in being a man and at the same time expressing what he felt at heart without offending the lady. He mastered it with style, class, and sincerity.
I seriously did want to give him a huge bear hug and to tell him that he ought to sit down and rest with a cup of tea! I had tired him far too much! But it was what he said next that brought to crystal light the true reason that lay behind this comical exchange of dialogue.
“Your voice beautiful…. calm…. clear… peaceful…. I think you must be…. er……. er doctor, right…?”
I knew in my heart, before the conversation had taken root, that he had already painted my soul in the picture of a healer.
“Well, I am a kind of doctor….”
I swear Anternor’s eyes had walked out of their alcoves. Cautiously they floated closer to my face, they wished to capture the entirety of what I had reserved to reveal to him, so as to complete my preceding truncated sentence.
“I am a Teacher…”
Anternor’s face lit up like the moon… :))
“… Far from it, Mr Anternor’s character shone with the honeyed nostalgia of the friendliness of strangers one tends to find in the countryside. For me, he was a fellow kindred spirit…”
EPILOGUE: This transcript is NOT a work of fiction. If You are plagued by disbelief then may I suggest You get in touch with my brother and sister, Ab and Jen Jens. They were stood in the lobby the whole time, impatiently! Giggle, giggle!
Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Our Hotel | Paris | France 2015