Anthologies

“No Penis Gourds Here” Published in Wandering In Bali Anthology

Diane’s story “No Penis Gourds Here,” was just published in the anthology, Wandering in Bali, (Wanderland Writers). Available at Book Passages. Excerpt: Actually I’d come to Indonesia in search of the penis gourd people on Papua New Guinea and the matrilineal Minangkabau on Western Sumatra. But through various quirks--the Balinese would call karma— I found myself on Bali. My own connections to Indonesia go back more than forty years when I was living in Holland, married to a Dutch medical student who had spent his early years on the then-Dutch colony of Indonesia with his parents and older brother. I heard tales of their beautiful lives there. Beautiful, that is, until WW II broke out and they were interned in Japanese concentration camps--his mother with the two boys, his father in a separate camp. His older brother died in the camp and when the war was over, they all returned to the Netherlands. During my own years living in Holland, my connections to Indonesia included friendships with some Indonesians who left Indonesia after the war, my former mother-in-law’s memories, and dinners of nasi goreng and rijsttafel at local restaurants. One day, I thought, Indonesia would be a place I wanted to explore for myself. Today, the war is mainly a distant memory. Indonesia and its 17,000 island archipelago gained its independence from The Netherlands in 1949. Bali, although one of the smallest islands, is the best known to foreigners and hosts a booming tourist trade. The Balinese have a love-hate view of the bestselling memoir, Eat Pray Love, that has even further inflated this boom.  Australians chug-a-lugging their way through their holidays, Americans seeking bargains to rival Cost Plus and gurus to predict their futures, Bali “cowboys” serving single women on the beaches of Kuta’s resorts are stereotyped images I held of Bali. Since normally in my travels, I seek out the lesser trod paths, Bali was never high on my to-do travel list. So when I ended up here between visits to two other lesser-known islands, I approached my visit with skepticism.... Available at Book Passages.

“The Infelicities of Travel: Gems Among the Ruins” included in BATW Anthology

Diane's story "The Infelicities of Travel: Gems Among the Ruins" was recently published in the Bay Area Travel Writer's 2012 Anthology entitled, "Travel Stories from Around the Globe." The anthology was juried by Julia Cosgrove, Editor-in-Chief of AFAR magazine; John Flinn, former Travel Editor of the San Francisco Chronicle; and Janet Fullwood, former Travel Editor of the Sacramento Bee. The 23 stories included were selected from some 60 submissions, taking readers through Europe and Great Britain, the Americas, Pacific Rim, Africa, Tibet, and India, capturing the timeless spirit of travel. Watch her read the story at the book launch event.

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Winner of Travelers’ Tales Solas Gold Award for Best Women’s Travel Writing 2010 Methylphenobarbital For Sale, --Diane LeBow

Word count: 3844

“That’s the Hindu Kush Mountains, the killer of Hindus.” An Afghan man sitting next to me on the Ariana Afghan Airlines flight from Dubai to Kabul leaned over and explained. Outside the window, the flat desert lands of Iran and southern Afghanistan suddenly gave way to barren blue and gray ridgebacks, like waves of a stormy sea. I thought about the land I was visiting and wondered how stormy the political situation would be during my upcoming visit to this war weary land. As I was leaving for the San Francisco airport twenty-four plus hours ago, a friend called: “Have you been listening to the news. There’s just been another bombing in central Kabul, many people killed and injured, Methylphenobarbital canada, mexico, india, and an assassination attempt on President Karzai. Do you think you should delay your departure?”

Beneath us, small villages of stone and mud dwellings became visible as we angled in toward Kabul Airport, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Voices and nervous laughter grew louder as excitement among the passengers mounted. Many on the crowded plane were Afghans returning after fifteen, even twenty years absence.

“I left when I was three,” one man said to me.

Another confided: “I’m afraid to get off. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, Everything will be so changed.”

The landing was a new experience for me: past bunkers and a graveyard of smashed up planes and cadavers of military aircraft, evidence of over two decades of war. Kjøpe Methylphenobarbital på nett, köpa Methylphenobarbital online, I remembered I was entering a land of lawlessness, anarchy, warlords, and twenty-three years of conflict—actually a part of the world where civil war and foreign invasions are more the norm than peace.

Then we stepped off the plane into the “Country of Light,” as Afghanistan has been known. A young Afghan-American man who was traveling with us, said to me, “I thought I wouldn’t remember since I moved to the States when I was five but now that I feel the air and sniff familiar smells I know I am home.” The scene inside the terminal was bustling but well organized, herbal Methylphenobarbital. Young men in ragged brown garments, looking like they had stepped out of the Middle Ages, pleaded to help me with my luggage in order to earn 10,000 Afghanis, about twenty-five cents.

Dust and people swirled all around me, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. The people were strikingly handsome—if dusty, like everything else there. Methylphenobarbital dose, Afghan eyes, dark and deep and very calm, really look into you and the look is not pained or demanding or threatening in any way: it is calm and clear. Perhaps the look is a result of millennia of survival and resignation to whatever the fates or world politics send their way.

Even though I travel extensively, I was never in a war zone before. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, There were a few things to get used to. As we left the Kabul Airport, my driver said, "Don't worry that there is no seat belt, doses Methylphenobarbital work," as he saw me searching along the side of the seat. "I drive slowly." With that, he floored it, and we raced up the wrong side of the divided street against the oncoming traffic. There are no traffic rules or stop lights in Afghanistan. Traffic when it moves, like spilled milk, Rx free Methylphenobarbital, goes anywhere there is a space. My driver Nabil's technique suited the general sense of lawlessness in the air, Methylphenobarbital For Sale.

Through the open window of our car, I bought The Autumn 2002 Survival Guide to Kabul from a street child. It opened optimistically: “There’s a lot to see even if most of it is wrecked.” On the way to our guesthouse, all around us large areas of Kabul were bombed out wrecks of former homes, stores, and even palaces. Near the center of the city, burned skeletons of buses lie stacked one on top of another around the devastated former public transportation center. The ubiquitous blue burqaed women and street children begged at the windows of our van and later when I walked through the streets, Methylphenobarbital use. Men with no legs, mine victims, negotiated along on a sort of skateboard amongst the traffic, pleading for “baksheesh,” some money. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, As we drove up to the hotel I was to stay at, I noticed the top floor was missing and I joked to my driver that I hoped my room was on a lower floor.

There’s something about Afghanistan and the Afghan people that draws me back again and again. When I am there, Order Methylphenobarbital online c.o.d, I feel out of time, connected to all of humanity at all times. This land has been touched by so many—from Alexander the Great, the Egyptians, ancient Greeks, Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, the Soviets, Taliban, Methylphenobarbital over the counter, to most recently, the USA---- and yet maintains a strong sense of identity.  There is approximately eighty percent illiteracy, few roads, little to no electricity, running water, phone service, Purchase Methylphenobarbital online no prescription, postal or banking system. People live mainly on a subsistence level, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Yet, to be with an Afghan is to be aware of a keen intelligence, often along with a sharp wit, a sense of irony and enjoyment of life, and a pervading kindness and hospitality.

How can this be when all around are bombed buildings, destroyed roads, adults and children with missing legs, piles of rusting tanks and crashed planes, cheap Methylphenobarbital no rx. I sought to learn more about this strong pulse of life that was throbbing here.

My lifelong work for women’s rights and the horrors of the Taliban especially pulls me to this part of the world. Imagine being confined inside your house with the windows painted black, only being permitted outside when accompanied by a male relative, being beaten for even showing a bit of wrist, and even stoned to death at the whim of a perhaps disgruntled husband who wants to be rid of you?  Imagine not being permitted any education or access to earning a livelihood, receiving medical care, Methylphenobarbital no prescription, or even an occasional visit to the public bath as you have no running water in your simple house. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, I wanted to learn more and see what I could do to help.

PART 1 Beyond the Burning Burqas: My First Visit with Afghan Women


Two years earlier, June 2000, the Taliban were still in power in Afghanistan. Their treatment of women is the ultimate in man’s inhumanity to women. Could any of us do something to help. Living in France at the time, I met a group of exiled Afghan women. Along with some French women, we organized a conference near the Afghan border in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, as it was still impossible to have such a gathering inside Afghanistan, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. There we met with over 300 Afghan women who had escaped across the Afghan-Tajik border and were living at the time in this former Soviet republic.  Our goal was to help them write up “A Declaration of the Essential Rights of Afghan Women, Methylphenobarbital australia, uk, us, usa,” based on United Nations’ documents. Major elements of our work were eventually incorporated into the new Afghan Constitution.

“Please, speak out about these crimes. But tell not just about the suffering, but also about the successes, how we are resisting.” I met Halida, My Methylphenobarbital experience, a math professor from Kabul, who ran secret schools for girls inside Afghanistan all during the Taliban repression. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, She was one of several hundred Afghan women at this conference. These women were the lucky ones, educated and middle class, having the means and know how, to escape from their country as the Taliban took over. The stories of these women professors, doctors, engineers and computer scientists revealed to me what the civil society of Afghanistan has been and can be once again, discount Methylphenobarbital.

Western news coverage of Afghanistan generally presents a picture of illiterate warlords and draped women. However, earlier, into the sixties, Afghanistan was a progressive society. Women’s equal rights were guaranteed by the Afghan Constitution.  In pre-Taliban Afghanistan, women, at least in the urban centers, were educated and active participants in the society, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. They comprised fifty percent of the civil administration, seventy percent of the teachers, Methylphenobarbital for sale, forty percent of the physicians, and had fifteen percent representation in the highest legislative body in Afghanistan—a larger number than the United States.

“Persecution of women is a method to install terrorism in order to paralyze society, to create a submissive society,” Khalida Messaoudi, Deputy from the Algerian government opened the conference with these words.  She is a petite, auburn-haired powerhouse. Facing death threats everyday of her life and surrounded by security guards, she was a central force in uniting the Algerian women and ousting Algeria’s version of the Taliban and in establishing representative democracy in her country, Methylphenobarbital pics. “Imagine,” she said to me later in the lobby, “right wing Christian fanatics, armed with automatic weapons, taking over Washington, D.C., and the U.S. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, government. Methylphenobarbital duration, This is the situation in Afghanistan with the Taliban.”

During meals, the stories poured into my ears:

A young woman at our table told me she had three children and that her pilot husband was killed in an airplane crash. “I hated the burqa,” she said. “With the burqa, you always have eye ache and headache. It is especially difficult for women who wear eyeglasses.”

One woman, Masada, is a dentist with a computer engineer husband and two children, Methylphenobarbital without prescription. She is an exceptionally beautiful woman around thirty with symmetrical features, large eyes, and dark brown hair, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Like many of the Afghan women, Masada eschewed traditional dress; in her case she wore an oversized tee shirt and jeans. She told her tale of escape, which was like many others. “The Taliban were entering our town that day. I couldn’t reach my husband. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, I quickly arranged visas and plane tickets to Iran for my children and myself. After eleven months in Iran, Methylphenobarbital reviews, I was able to take a train with the children to Tajikistan. Finally, from here, through an international company, I got a message to my husband that we were alive.”

Another woman who had escaped from a Taliban controlled area told me: “The Taliban took seven hundred women hostage. More than 2000 people were killed when they took Kabul. They sold and raped many women, using them as sex slaves. Aged and disabled people, they left to suffocate in closed barracks in temperatures over 110 degrees.”

A young male Afghan journalist spoke to me as we were walking outside after one session, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. “The Taliban live in darkness, cheap Methylphenobarbital, they follow ancient beliefs. It is not our culture to treat women this way. Women are human, not animals.”

Habeeba, an engineer, said: “When the Taliban leave, the women will burn their burqas, Methylphenobarbital dangers, the men will shave their beards, and there will be music on every corner.”  The burning has begun but much remains to be done.

On my last afternoon in Tajikistan, a number of women friends from the conference arranged a country outing. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, We drove out in two vans and picnicked by a fast-moving river, surrounded by sunlit mountains which led on toward Afghanistan. A thin business woman in a tailored dress crouched down and drummed a Middle Eastern beat on an overturned rusty metal table. Soon one after another of the women began belly dancing. Small girls joined us. One woman drew me into the circle, the others clapping around us, Methylphenobarbital treatment. Repeatedly, they said something to me that sounded like “Hurhun.” The word sounded uncomfortably close to a term I wouldn’t want to be called and wondered if somehow my behavior was unacceptable, Methylphenobarbital For Sale.

Back at the hotel, when we hugged goodbye, I took a deep breath and asked: “What does “hurhun” mean.

“Sister,” they replied. “Thank you, our sister, Order Methylphenobarbital no prescription, for being here.”

PART 2 Afghanistan: The Friendliest Country


After the fall of the Taliban the following year, I flew to Afghanistan as part of a human rights delegation sponsored by the San Francisco based organization Global Exchange. There were eleven of us, mainly young Afghan-Americans and me. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, Our mission was to assess the state of Afghan culture and the arts and set up projects to help both immediately and in the long-term. In addition, I planned to visit women’s projects and learn about specific ways I might be able to get involved..

The cover on an Afghan tourism brochure from the 1970’s that I found in a Kabul bookstore announced “Afghanistan, The Friendliest Country.” Believe it or not, that’s what I’ve found during my visits there and with the continuing friendships I have with Afghan people, taking Methylphenobarbital.

Driving through Kabul with my young Afghan friends even in the midst of the dusty chaos that is Kabul’s perpetual traffic gridlock, I never saw anyone yelling in anger. People laughed and joked. Kabul is a remarkably tight knit community, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. My driver used the traffic jams to shout messages to other drivers and passengers. “Tell my cousin to ask his friend Hamid about the tire he is fixing for me.” Since there were few functioning telephones in Afghanistan, I realized that the gridlock is a communication opportunity. Even when people run into each other, Methylphenobarbital trusted pharmacy reviews, they don’t seem very upset. On one occasion, one of my drivers knocked a man off his bicycle. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, They both chatted for a few minutes, laughed about it, and drove on.

My friend, Tareq, a university student, said to me, “Why does everyone pick on Afghanistan. We are merchants and businesspeople, Methylphenobarbital natural. If they want something we have, all they have to do is talk with us and, we’ll do business with them. They don’t have to drop bombs on us.”

My new friends even made up jokes about the ubiquitous blue burqas. “Will the woman in the blue burqa please stand up?” they imagined someone announcing to a large crowd, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Hoots of laughter on their part and mine followed. Wiping her eyes from laughing so hard, Shoukria said, Methylphenobarbital brand name, “To the coat check girl: ‘Mine’s the blue one.’ More gales of laughter.

Not just high spirits but industriousness and ingenuity were apparent everywhere. In areas of Kabul, as well as in surrounding villages, piles of freshly cut poplar logs, a fast growing tree, were being used for rebuilding. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, During visits to Kabul Radio and Television, the staff showed us how they had concealed their precious archives of tapes and film inside panels of the ceilings or plastered up doors, so the Taliban couldn't find them. Now everything was out in the open again and being broadcast. When the Director of the Kabul Museum showed me room after room of statues smashed by the Taliban, where can i cheapest Methylphenobarbital online, he and his staff assured us that, with international help, "We can reconstruct them."

We purchased a few hundred dollars worth of electrical supplies and helped get the lights back on in the Kabul University library reading room where we saw students hunched over books in the darkened rooms. Every department at the University needed international assistance. The music department lack instruments. The Fine Arts department wrote out a prioritized list of supplies they needed, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Before we left, we dropped off paper, Methylphenobarbital online cod, paints, and clay.

At the National Archives, the director took me into a room where mounds of deliberately ripped canvases lay stacked. However, the establishment reopened and they were hanging a show of recent paintings while we were there. At the University as well as the National Library, we examined cases displaying books that the Taliban shot through or shredded with knives as all images are forbidden under their extreme rule. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, I visited an orphanage that housed more than one thousand children but had no running water or functioning plumbing. Children made a game out of taking turns at a single hand pump in the schoolyard, Methylphenobarbital price, coupon. A fifth grade class of orphaned girls sang for us: "Afghanistan, you are now my mother, and I must take care of you."  Over the next days, we purchased pillows and wool mittens for the children.

Afghanistan is a teacher's paradise. Eager learners, both girls and boys, Buy cheap Methylphenobarbital no rx, pack schools, half of the students sitting on the floors, shared the scarce books and writing on tattered bits of chalk boards. "Please stay here and teach us, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. When are you coming back?" the students of Alfatha Girls School addressed me in excellent English. Their 37-year-old principal, Mahgul Nawabi, ran underground schools for girls during the Taliban years when all girls were forbidden education. In many classrooms during my visit, I saw older women attending classes with much younger pupils, purchase Methylphenobarbital, hoping to catch up on the years the Taliban denied them education.

I also visited a well-run school for the deaf, the first and only one in Afghanistan. The director developed the first system for signing in Farsi. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, “I try to help those who have been forgotten,” he told me. Another unique school is for street children. There are five such centers in Kabul, serving over 38,000 homeless children or children without functioning families. At these centers, Where can i buy Methylphenobarbital online, the children spend a few hours each day, are taught literacy and basic mathematics, have a meal and access to bathing facilities, and, perhaps most important, have friends they can count on.

One day, several of us hiked up on the side of a mountain near the ancient walls of Kabul. Throughout the town, Methylphenobarbital street price, most people headed toward the stadium where the commemoration in honor of Masood, would occur.  A national hero, Masood, the great Afghan freedom fighter, was assassinated on 9/9/01, as part of the 9/11 attack on the USA, This was the infamous stadium where the Taliban performed public executions and stonings every Friday.  Above us security helicopters whirled. Below women washed clothes in the tiny trickle of water which was all that was left of the Kabul River after five years of drought

As we clambered up the steep gravelly hillside, from the flat roof of a mud and stone dwelling, a man on crutches waved at me and, with a smile, beckoned me over, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Canada, mexico, india, As I approached him, I could see he had those movie star good looks of many Afghan men: gorgeous symmetrical features, muscular build, dark hair and beard, and expressive dark eyes. “Come in, have tea with my family,” he said through the university student who was my translator. I was having trouble staying upright on the steep slope and wondered as we entered his tattered house how my new friend managed on his crutches, Methylphenobarbital used for.

He introduced himself as Ashref. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, “I’ve fought against the Soviets and the Taliban to protect my family and little community here. I’m the mayor,” he told me in a matter of fact way, a broad smile on his face. A mine had blown one of his legs off, he explained, and he showed me various holes in his chest and back from mortar fire. Where can i buy cheapest Methylphenobarbital online, In spite of his personal history, he joked constantly and was one of the most jovial people I’ve ever known. His wife, a beautiful woman with those special golden green eyes seen on some Afghans, interrupted to tell me, "My husband is a very good man.”

I asked him, “Here you are after twenty plus years of war, you’ve lost a leg, your body has been shot at again and again, Methylphenobarbital from canada, yet you are so cheerful. How is that, Methylphenobarbital For Sale.

“Now we have peace,” he said, “and peace is everything.”

PART 3  TWO YEARS LATER


When I entered the unheated old cinema building in central Kabul, where until recently the Taliban had banned all films, the electricity went out for several minutes and I stood in the pitch dark with about one thousand Afghan women. They had traveled from all corners of Afghanistan to be here, Methylphenobarbital recreational, on planes, on donkeys, and on foot.

Two years had past since my last visit to this country. The specific occasion this time was a women’s conference to prepare materials for the new Constitution at their Loya Jirga, or Constitutional Convention. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, For three days we sat in a packed hall for about eight hours each day, witnessing what the American Institute for Democracy, which helped fund the conference, described as “true grass roots democracy at work.”

Like a dam had broken, these women demanded every possible right and a perfect society. “We want freedom to wear what we wish. We want to be free to marry whom we wish or not to marry. No more polygamy, no violence, free education, health care. We want the right to ride bicycles.”

A few days later, some of their proposals were in fact added to the new Constitution, including a twenty-five percent requirement of women in the Parliament. Of course, enforcement is another story, Methylphenobarbital For Sale.

One afternoon, my plan was to find Ashreef, my one legged Mujahadeen friend, again, to see how he and his family were doing, and bring them photos from my last visit as well as gifts. With a few friends, I drove to the place in Kabul where the hills rise up from the bed of the Kabul River and where I recalled meeting Ashreef two years earlier. Street names or numbers don’t exist here. When we showed my photos to some people, they recognized him immediately, as he is well respected in his community. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, "He's at the mosque," and they ran to get him. Within minutes, rushing down the street on crutches toward me, with a new artificial limb, was Ashreef. We were both very moved by our reunion, tears streaming down both our faces. Somehow this illiterate warrior and I have a close bond.

"Diane," he said, "we spoke of you often throughout the year. I looked at the little blue card you left with us, especially when I was sick or felt sad, and the thought of you always raised my spirits and made me feel happy again, Methylphenobarbital For Sale. Last evening I had a dream you were coming back and my wife and I spoke of you." We spent a couple of hours talking over tea, nuts, and raisins in his modest but well kept tiny mud brick house.

He says he is an Islamist: women should have full rights to have careers, to go to the university, but still he believes they should wear the hijab. "We are Moslems, we want to respect our women wearing the cover. It is not the burqa which is the point but the freedom to move about in their lives, to live full lives, that is important. Methylphenobarbital For Sale, However, after conversing for over 1 1/2 hours, Ashreef said to me, "I've been at war for over 15 years, that's all I know. I am thinking that maybe my mind and ideas haven't developed as they should be. Maybe I need to rethink some of these new ideas especially regarding women and expand my mind and thoughts."

Then he turned to the two young Swedish women journalists who were with me, "You are my guests, but Diane is no longer a guest.” My heart stopped for a moment. Had I offended him in some way.

“Diane is now part of our family."

When William Faulkner accepted the Noble Prize for Literature in 1950, he talked about the human ability to endure and prevail: “When the last ding dong of doom has clanged and faded in the last dying evening… there will be one more sound, that of the puny human voice saying ‘I refuse to accept this.” That’s the voice I hear in Afghanistan.

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dlb_036_440x600.jpg Clobazam For Sale, BATW Best Bronze, Essay in an anthology

My darling Aphrodite, I love you. Will you marry me? The handsome Greek restaurant owner on Santorini pleaded with my eighty-year-old mother as they line-danced to bouzouki music in a late-night bacchanal on a terrace overlooking the Aegean. My mother loved dancing, charming men, and living in general. After being widowed for the second time in her late seventies, she kicked up her heels and, in many ways, low dose Clobazam, relished life to its fullest. During those years we traveled together frequently and had our own high-spirited odyssey around Greece.Dancing on the Wine Dark Sea

Homeric Hymn to Demeter:

I begin to sing of Demeter, the holy goddess with the beautiful hair. And her daughter, Persephone, too, Clobazam For Sale. The one with the delicate ankles, whom Hades seized. She was given away by Zeus, Buying Clobazam online over the counter, the loud-thunderer, the one who sees far and wide. Demeter did not take part in this, she of the golden double-axe, she who glories in the harvest. Persephone was having a good time, along with the daughters of Okeanos, who wear their girdles slung low, canada, mexico, india. (Composed circa seventh century BCE) Clobazam For Sale, On our first morning in Greece, my friend Gloria and I went down to breakfast on the outdoor terrace of the Athens Hilton. Facing my eggs Benedict, all I wanted to do was lie flat on the cool terrace floor. So I did.

Waiters in white coats discreetly stepped around me, perhaps interpreting this action as eccentric American behavior. The Greek fascist regime was in full force then, Clobazam forum, and people tended to mind their own business. Gloria and I attributed my wave of nausea to bad airplane food, Clobazam For Sale. We proceeded to plan the rest of our trip: first by bus to visit important sites, then by sea to Mykonos and Crete.

I had just broken up with the man for whom I had left my husband. Perhaps the anxiety of learning to live the single life was stressing my system. When Gloria, a colleague at the California college where I taught, suggested a trip to Greece, Clobazam dosage, I thought what better way to mend a broken heart and move on with life. Clobazam For Sale, Both of us were steeped in Greek literature and history. But in the fertile lands that spawned the beginnings of our civilization, our demokratia, and stories of randy gods and goddesses, I could not have guessed at the irony of my ongoing queasiness.

Our first stop was the famous amphitheater of Epidaurus, Is Clobazam safe, an easy day trip from Athens. We also visited Mycenae from where Agamemnon departed for the Trojan War, after he sacrificed his daughter, Iphigenia, so the gods would turn up the winds to fill his sails. His wife, Clytemnestra, was not pleased, purchase Clobazam, took a lover during his ten-year absence, and murdered Agamemnon in the bath after he returned. Breaking up with my husband and now ex-boyfriend seemed much less dramatic from this perspective, Clobazam For Sale.

Epidaurus was both a healing center”where Asklepios, son of Apollo, cured the ill from all over Greece”and one of the world's oldest theaters. I hoped a visit there would cure my continuing nausea. Clobazam dose, Following in the footsteps of millions, we climbed high up in the enormous amphitheater that once held 10,000 spectators and tested its legendary acoustics. Our tour guide, so far below on the stage that she seemed a tiny speck, dropped a drachma, and we heard its distinct ping as it hit the stone floor. Clobazam For Sale, Then she tore a Kleenex tissue, and, yes, we could hear that as well. We were sitting in what would have been, purchase Clobazam for sale, no doubt, the poor people's seats. I thought about the challenge of getting acoustics right in contemporary theaters and wondered about the many mysteries we still can learn from the ancient Greeks. Beyond the stage and backdrop (the skene), mountains rose and clouds floated in a blue sky. These ancient theaters were built to remind us of the connections between our temporal world, Clobazam no prescription, nature, and the spheres of the gods.

The next day we took a bus fourteen miles east of Athens to Eleusis, site of the Mysteries, which date back to 2000 BC and earlier, Clobazam For Sale. Believed to have come from Egypt via Crete, the cult of Isis”the Earth goddess”later was worshiped as Demeter and finally the Virgin Mary. My low-grade sickness continued, as I stumbled up and down ancient stairs, soaked in the heat and odors of summer vegetation. Poppies dotted the surrounding slopes, Clobazam treatment, and cicadas buzzed in the overgrown bushes.

I had read that this area was once the terminus of a biannual procession that began in Athens along what was called the Sacred Way. Clobazam For Sale, Anyone could participate, as long as he or she were not a barbarian (i.e., spoke Greek) and had not committed blood crimes. As they walked, people, especially prostitutes, called out dirty words and obscene jokes. Clobazam wiki, The overall celebration marked Demeter's reunion with her daughter, Persephone, when she returned from her six-month annual sojourn with Hades, god of the underworld. During her daughter's months in the underworld, Demeter was too sad to tend to fertility, hence winter set in. The ancients also reported that Persephone was reborn from her mother in the midst of huge fire and brilliant lights seen for miles around, Clobazam interactions. Bulls and phalli were part of these rituals, depicted in frescoes as far away as Pompeii, Clobazam For Sale.

Here amidst this ancient place of orgies and bloody sacrifice, the thought that I could I be pregnant flashed through my mind. If so, what would I do. I was on my own. I couldn't afford to stop my work, Order Clobazam from mexican pharmacy, both teaching college and training horses. Clobazam For Sale, No one was going to take care of me. I wondered if I would be able to get an early flight home.

After I'd vomited over some of the most fertile sites of Western culture”Delphi, Epidaurus, Mycenae”we decided to save money by taking the ferry over from Piraeus to Crete. The Meltemi, the hot winds of August, blew heavy on the Aegean, order Clobazam online overnight delivery no prescription. Because of these relentlessness winds, the ancient Greeks avoided open sea travel as much as possible during this time of year. We soon discovered why, Clobazam For Sale. What was typically a nine-hour overnight voyage took almost fifteen hours. I lay on the center of the top deck, watching Orion and the seven sisters rock back and forth overhead. After downing seasickness pills, Purchase Clobazam online no prescription, which had little or no effect, I finally read the directions and noticed a bold-print warning: Do not take during pregnancy as may cause birth defects to fetus. I began to panic at the thought that I was carrying a deformed fetus.

When we reached the terra firma of Crete, we checked into our economy hotel. Clobazam For Sale, Just down the street was the Palace of Knossos, which we visited the next day, marveling at the flush toilet that the Minoan queen enjoyed four thousand years ago. I wondered what her life was like. Having a daughter to carry on a woman's lineage was central in this matrilineal culture.

That evening Gloria announced she was leaving to tour with a professor from Germany she had met during our ferry crossing. There's no point in my staying with you, Clobazam results, she said. You're sick and can't do anything, Clobazam For Sale. I may as well have fun.

I felt abandoned but decided it was time to make some decisions. Changing my Pan Am return ticket home, I booked a flight from Herakleion to Athens, happily forfeiting my return ferry ticket.

Back in California, Clobazam photos, I was grateful that abortions had just become legal.

Song of the Sirens

Draw near . . . illustrious Odysseus, flower of the Achaean chivalry, and bring your ship to rest that you may hear our voices. No seaman ever sailed his black ship past this place without listening to the sweet voice that flow from our lips, and none that listened has not been delighted and gone on a wiser man, what is Clobazam. (Homer, The Odyssey)

Twenty years later I returned to the land of Homer, accompanied by my mother, the archetypal Siren.

My darling Aphrodite, I love you, Clobazam For Sale. Will you marry me? The handsome Greek restaurant owner on Santorini pleaded with my eighty-year-old mother as they line-danced to bouzouki music in a late-night bacchanal on a terrace overlooking the Aegean. My mother loved dancing, Taking Clobazam, charming men, and living in general. After being widowed for the second time in her late seventies, she kicked up her heels and, in many ways, relished life to its fullest. During those years we traveled together frequently and had our own high-spirited odyssey around Greece. Clobazam For Sale, My jaunt with my mother came years after my first inauspicious steps on to Greek soil. It was natural that we finally shared Athens and the Greek isles together, effects of Clobazam. Greece lived in my imagination from my earliest memories thanks to her. An avid reader and elementary school teacher, she had read Homer's Iliad and Odyssey and tales from Greek mythology to me as a child. I imagined sailing the Aegean with Odysseus, visiting the lands of the Lotus Eaters and Circe and the Cyclops for myself. As a college professor, I taught Greek literature, Clobazam For Sale. My mother named me Diane, Purchase Clobazam, the Roman counterpart of Artemis, the free-spirited huntress. Artemis frolicked in the woods, surrounded by animals, without a thought to marriage or children.

Like my mythological namesake, I enjoyed my adventurous approach to life and my work with animals, for many years as a professional horse trainer, Clobazam use. Yet, sometimes I thought about what I was missing, having remained child-free. Clobazam For Sale, After all, my mother enjoyed having a daughter. I would have no daughter but would continue on my namesake's path. Like Demeter and Persephone, my mother and I were accepting of where our lives had led us. Buy generic Clobazam, At our hotel in Delphi, my mother telephoned my room. Giorgos, our driver, is knocking at my hotel room door. What should I do? she said, Clobazam For Sale. She had been flirting with the poor man for several days as we toured around. How could he know that she was only kidding. Maybe you should let him in, australia, uk, us, usa, I advised. You've been leading him on for days now. Meanwhile I was busy with our young tour guide who was licking my cheek and nibbling my shoulder. Clobazam For Sale, Mom and I sailed to Santorini, this time on the calm seas of early June. The lost Atlantis, some believe, is under the waters of Santorini's bay. We visited the archaeological excavations underway, Clobazam dose, and in the afternoon, hired a local man with a rowboat to take us to a beach I had heard about. A nudie beach, I told my mother, who hoped to add yet another act of daring to her repertoire. On the beach, my frisky mom stripped to her white cotton underpants and bra, and enjoyed splashing in the clear warm Aegean, my Clobazam experience. When our oarsman and boat returned after the designated hour or two, he asked us to wade out to the boat, Clobazam For Sale. Seeing my mother, still in her underwear, having trouble negotiating the pebbled bottom, he jumped out, waded to shore, and, Buy Clobazam no prescription, to her immense delight, scooped her up into his arms, both of them giggling their way back to the rowboat.

On our first night we had dinner at an open-air taverna, with the full moon illuminating the Aegean and the island's chalk-white cliffs. We drank ouzo and retsina, ate souvlaki and tzatziki. Did you know, Clobazam images, a fisherman at our table asked, that in the old days if a wife was rebellious and refused to have sex with her husband, he would be advised to rub her gently with olive oil for seven days. Clobazam For Sale, After that time, she would become sweet and compliant. He winked and passed me the olive oil for my salad. Winking back, I doused my tomato, feta, Clobazam street price, cucumber, and olives with the ancient golden remedy.

Musicians on the bouzouki, karamoudzes, baglama, and daouli drums began to play their irresistible music. Soon we were all line dancing. Several women said, Clobazam gel, ointment, cream, pill, spray, continuous-release, extended-release, We'll teach you an ancient women's dance. This used to be the only dance women were allowed, Clobazam For Sale. It was for widows who danced their way off the edge of a cliff. I looked skeptically at the drop at the end of the restaurant terrace. We won't do that tonight though, they assured me.

I remembered twenty years earlier during the fascist regime when I first visited Greece. Gloria and I got up to dance at a taverna in the Plaka in Athens. Clobazam For Sale, We were the only ones on the floor, proudly showing off the steps we had recently learned at our lessons at a San Francisco Greek restaurant. Clobazam coupon, We'd been told that we might have a problem if we danced in Greece. When a handsome man approached us, Gloria said to me, See, it's okay for us to be dancing. He came so close that I could sniff the ouzo on his breath: Seet down, he snarled. Women don't dance in Greece.

That same night Gloria and I did enjoy the plate-bashing party. Some people at the restaurant invited us to join a birthday celebration, where can i buy Clobazam online. Shades were pulled down on all the windows, Clobazam For Sale. It's against the law these days to break plates, they whispered. Suddenly everyone jumped up, started dancing and dashing china to the floor until we were crunching broken pottery with every step.

Here on Santorini, although there was no plate-smashing, Ordering Clobazam online, the chef appeared from the kitchen and began dancing alone in the middle of the floor. We all clapped, urging him to still-higher leaps and slaps of hand on heel. Clobazam For Sale, He did several backflips, then tore off one of his sleeves, placed it on his head like a chef's hat. I hope he doesn't sweat in our tzatziki, said my mom. Seeing her gyrating in her seat, the chef urged her on to the dance floor. He tore off his other sleeve and placed it on her head, cheap Clobazam.

Meanwhile the charming Adonis of a jeweler, Thanassis, whom we had met earlier that day when we were looking at traditional Greek key design necklaces, joined our table. He and I had made a tentative date as we left his shop, Clobazam For Sale. I slipped away for a tryst at his apartment where I learned that it is not only thousands of years of philosophy that the Greeks are adept at. No wonder, Buying Clobazam online over the counter, I thought, that Lysistrata and her friends wanted their men back in their beds. As the rosy-fingered dawn broke over the white cliffs and blue waters of Santorini, Thanassis drove me back to my hotel where I caught a few hours sleep before my mom and I sailed off on the early-morning ferry to Páros for our next island adventure.

Both my mother and I disliked early mornings, but this one was special as the sun peeked over the blue Aegean and then rose up as we sailed into its path. Clobazam For Sale, What a magical trip this is, said my mom. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful daughter.

Ditto, for me, herbal Clobazam, I said. How many mothers would be the belle of the ball at a Greek taverna and then not mind when I run off with the most handsome Greek on the island?

I was only concerned that I didn't have to take this ferry by myself if you didn't show up. I'm not sure where we're going next!

Five years later, I was back in Greece, this time accompanied by my mother's ashes. My plan was to sprinkle them in the waters off Santorini, Clobazam pharmacy, a place where we had both had such fun together. I lay awake in my hotel in Athens, thinking about my mother's recent death, Clobazam For Sale. I was in the same hotel, not far from the Plaka with a view of the Acropolis, where my mother and I stayed as we began that last madcap voyage together. I thought about my mother reading Greek myths to me at my bedside so many years ago. Now I was returning to Greece to scatter her ashes in Homer's wine dark sea.

So many memories here. Greece, ancient and modern, order Clobazam from United States pharmacy, had intertwined itself throughout my life. Clobazam For Sale, My mother's death marked the end of my family. Yes, I was alone but my life was a satisfying one”and there were lots of adventures still to come.

Suddenly my bed began to jump around the room. The hotel rocked, and when I looked out the window, No prescription Clobazam online, it seemed that the Acropolis itself was undulating. In the morning, I learned that a major earthquake jolted Greece, the epicenter was near Sparta. Hotels had fallen over and hundreds of people had been killed, Clobazam For Sale. Having never felt earthquakes anywhere other than my home in San Francisco, I recalled both the fragility and continuity of our world.

Since my mother had loved her time in Greece and flirted shamelessly with every handsome young Greek who crossed her path, I felt she'd like being out there in that clear blue water where new generations of young Greeks would be frolicking. Some friends and I chanted a poem I had written for the occasion:

You danced music into my life:

I send you dancing on all the seas and beaches

of the world.

You gave me peace. Clobazam For Sale, I wish you peace with the winds and the waves

and the seas

which are always and everywhere.

(Selection from Hymn to Audrey)

As I freed her ashes into the azure water, the calm bay suddenly sizzled and glittered with the sparkles of a million diamonds. Wow, what is happening? one of my companions gasped. This was the stuff of Greek myths, and we looked at each other wide-eyed. Very possibly by now my mother was playing the coquette with Charon, as he ferried her across the Styx, and was enticing Hades himself into a line dance.

That night I caught the midnight ferry from Santorini to continue my own odyssey on whatever island lay ahead.

©Diane LeBow 2006.

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Tramadol For Sale, *originally published as "The Fisher Baron's Secret," in France: A Love Story, (ed. Camille Cusumano, Seal Press)

I found Paris especially difficult to leave that morning. Familiar buildings and monuments glistened with fresh snow that had fallen during the night. Teary-eyed, I almost fell as I skidded over the medieval cobblestones of my Marais apartment courtyard for the last time. The cabby studied me in his rearview mirror.
“Why are you leaving Paris?”
“Because I must return to my job and home in San Francisco.”
“Tsk tsk”--the ultimate French negation--and a slow-motion shake of his head registered the cab driver’s displeasure, Tramadol For Sale.
“What matters in life is that you make love with someone you care about on Sunday morning and walk out with them on Sunday afternoon,” he counseled me. “It’s not good to live your life alone.”
After my two years here in France, I had an enviable apartment, interesting friends, Get Tramadol, even the offer of a professorship in Paris teaching women’s studies. The various strands of my life were finally weaving together. Why leave now. Tramadol For Sale, That old recurrent battle percolated once again inside me: love and security versus freedom and adventure.
The cabby’s words touched a sensitive spot. Since the feminist movement, many of us had given up the old ways of being women, but we hadn’t quite figured out the new guidelines: It was like floating through space without a ripcord to pull. Sometimes it was lonely out there. Occasionally I felt like coming in for a landing.
At the airport, in the crush of the crowded waiting room, I nudged my possessions toward the check-in counter: two oversized suitcases, three cartons, and a portable computer, Tramadol For Sale. I felt like a contemporary version of Hannibal crossing the Alps--minus the elephants.
“Madame, s’il vous plaît, may I help you?” A dignified man in a tweed jacket appeared beside me, Tramadol duration. For a moment I expected a Maurice Chevalier refrain to spring from his mustachioed lips. His kindly face was lined but robust, sophisticated, and attractively sensual; his pepper-and-salt hair, well-cut wool clothing, and perfectly shined mahogany cordovans announced substance and dependability. Tramadol For Sale, Like a hero from a fairy tale, he exuded an otherworldly serenity.
We chatted our way up to the counter. “Je m’appele Serge de Kervoisin. Shall I see if I can arrange our seats together?” Somewhere over the mid-Atlantic, it became clear this could be the start of something. He was a baron from northern Brittany, Tramadol mg, tracing his ancestry back to the Romans. He had two chateaux left, was land-rich and cash-poor, and raised what cash he needed by selling off lumber from his forests and raising trout, Tramadol For Sale. I felt as if we were acting out a Henry James novel: I the young--well, not that young--naïve but energetic New Worlder; he the highly cultivated, somewhat jaded and fading European.
The narrow seats encouraged our shoulders to touch. When he poured my wine and toasted to our serendipitous meeting, the sides of our hands brushed ever so slightly. I had never known a man like Serge; in his early sixties, he was sixteen years older than I. Tramadol For Sale, By the time the flight reached our destination, I had offered to delay my departure for San Francisco for a few days to help him explore New York for the first time. He had the use of a friend’s vacant apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, and I stayed with old friends.
“One of the reasons I’ve come to the States is to establish connections with antique dealers,” he said, Tramadol for sale. At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Serge taught me about the nuances of the furniture collections, which helped me to look at small curves and carvings with a new awareness. I tried to concentrate on the collections, but more absorbing were how the lines of his jaw and cheeks changed from shadow into light when he spoke. How amusingly his elegant dignity contrasted with his brightening demeanor when I touched his hand or said, “What fun you are to be with,” or “I’ve never known a man like you.”
Just around the corner from the furniture collections was one of my favorite rooms in the museum, Tramadol For Sale. “Come look at the Temple of Dendur. This was a goddess temple. Did you know that in pre-Christian times, to make love with a temple priestess was considered a sacrament?” He opened his eyes wide at this bit of information.
“Well, well. Tramadol For Sale, Now it’s time for some tea, don’t you think?”
Our week together passed swiftly: towering corned beef on rye at the Carnegie Deli; a Broadway musical, 42nd Street; elegant and romantic small restaurants; a boat trip from the Hudson to the East River; more museums; and finally, slow and precise lovemaking in his temporary apartment. Tramadol use, I had never made love with a man so much older than me, nor one of Serge’s background. He too seemed a bit nervous the first night I went home with him.
“Let’s have a drink. I quite like your American bourbon.” He quickly downed one glassful and poured another. He embraced me gently, kissing me in a preliminary way as though he were testing the waters, then more firmly, opening my lips with his tongue, Tramadol For Sale. His immaculate manners extended into his lovemaking. Slipping off his clothes quickly, he slid under the sheets. As I undressed, he pointedly looked away, then welcomed me to join him under the covers. In my travels, I have found that lovemaking techniques vary according to culture, Tramadol photos, class, and age of participants. Tramadol For Sale, This was my first time with a French aristocrat, and I was not disappointed.
The following month, when I was back in San Francisco, along with the first signs of spring, letters and cards began to arrive on both sides of the Atlantic. Our writing, like our conversations, moved back and forth between French and English, which was perhaps emblematic of our striving to bridge emotional and cultural ravines.
“Belle Dame, Tramadol overnight, I don’t forget you,” he had written shortly after our January meeting. “I keep a very pleasant memory of our romantic encounter and I would like to renew it. Love and kisses, Serge de Kervoisin.”
Finally in May, I found myself writing: “Cher Serge, Merci for your wonderful letter and the sprig of lavender, Tramadol For Sale. It still has a beautiful scent and makes me think of spring in the French countryside. . . . Tramadol For Sale, In just 30 days, I will be back in Paris and look forward to accepting your invitation to visit you in Bretagne. I shall let you know when I have a clearer view of dates and so on. . . . Je t’embrasse.”
And so, after a few months of exchanging letters, the summer found me in Brittany at the Manoir de Kervoisin, Tramadol For Sale. Serge met me in Paris and we drove out to his manor. Tall rows of plane trees formed bowers over our heads as we entered the long driveway, buy no prescription Tramadol online. On the right stood a small, abandoned but perfect half-timbered chateau dating from the fifteenth century; Queen Anne once stayed there. Opposite it stood the fairy-tale cottage in which he lived; this had been converted from an ancient water mill. Tramadol For Sale, Behind the cottage were laid out more than seventy enormous tanks in which trout were bred and raised. All around the cottage and into the distance were well-tended landscaped shrubs, flowers, and vegetable gardens. The sound of running water from the tanks permeated the air, as did some slight odor of fishiness when I stood amid the pools.
“During the winter of the great floods twenty years ago, all the trout escaped,” Serge recalled. Tramadol treatment, I looked at the open-air tanks teeming with swarming trout, the dense population arranged according to size and age. Never again would I bite into a fresh pan-fried trout served with small white parsleyed potatoes without remembering those trout swimming in the shit of a thousand other trout, Tramadol For Sale.
I thought about the fish suddenly liberated from their suffocating confinement during those floods. What a surprise for a trout to be suddenly swimming in flood tides, with much of western Brittany as its sea. Did they long for the safety and surety of their tank. Or did they relish chance encounters and freedom--until the floods receded and they found themselves stranded, out of their element. Tramadol For Sale, “Monsieur le Baron!” My short course in pisciculture was interrupted by a medieval-looking farm hand wearing a large yellow rubber apron, baggy overalls, and brown rubber boots that came up just above his knees. The worker’s ruddy, carbuncled face reflected many years in the rains and winds of Brittany. With his pale blue eyes, muscular forearms, and thumb in a dirty bandage, purchase Tramadol, he could have just slipped out of a Breughel painting.
Serge gave instructions to his servant concerning the feeding of the fish, removal of equipment, and preparation for tree cutting. Serge’s limberness and vitality belied his sixty-four years. He told me his ancestors dated back to Roman times via Flanders, and his two chateaux had been in his family since the fourteenth century--but that titles and land did not necessarily translate into cash, Tramadol For Sale. Unfortunately, since they were more than five hours’ drive from Paris, the chateaux and trout farm were almost unmarketable. So, with his modest stands of oaks, his trout-breeding operation, Purchase Tramadol for sale, and his vegetable garden, Serge lived a life out of time and almost totally self-sufficient.
The warm sun soothed my travel-weary shoulders, and drowsiness seeped through me. I felt more content within myself than I had in a long time, safe and cared for. Tramadol For Sale, “Venez. Venez. S’il vous plaît. Come in, please, I want to show you my mill house, my cottage.” Serge used the ancient Breton word penti for cottage and always addressed me with the formal “vous.” It was part of his traditional old French ways. When I mentioned it, Tramadol pictures, he explained it reflected the respect and esteem he felt for me. At first, such formality seemed odd, but, as I became accustomed to it, I too felt myself playing into an appropriate role: no longer a visitor from California, but a special woman, selected by chance to be here, playing a part in this tale, Tramadol For Sale.
The water-mill cottage was painted pale salmon, with gray stone corners and dark timber trim; it was covered with vines and pink and red climbing roses. Crossing the curved bridge to the front door, the air, scented with the sweetness of roses and herbs, caressed my cheeks. The inside of the cottage had the feel of a place that had been lived in and well tended for centuries. In the large stone fireplace a fire crackled, illuminating Serge’s guitar, easel, Online buying Tramadol hcl, writing desk, and book-lined shelves. Tramadol For Sale, The typical French country kitchen contained an old stove, a gray stone sink, and fresh green vegetables gathered in a basket. A row of windows overlooked a small orchard of fruit trees and flowers. I felt as if I had come home to Grandmother’s house--but instead of Grandma, here was this lovely man who might have just walked off the screen of a Hollywood version of a French romance.
Later Serge removed an antiquated grilling rack from the wall beside the living room fireplace and used it to cook our steaks over the fire. He sang and played old tunes for me on his guitar, including Jacques Prévert’s “Il y a longtemps que je t’aime. Jamais je t’oublierai.” This song always touched me with its poignant mix of sadness yet hopefulness concerning the possibility of love, Tramadol For Sale. Over our cognacs, he said, “Have you ever thought you might marry again?”
I paused. Probably that Parisian cab driver was right. Love, no prescription Tramadol online, continuing and unconditional: This is what mattered in life. On the other hand, marriage had long seemed to me a trap, and I usually spoke against it. Tramadol For Sale, Somehow here, in this peaceful atmosphere, with this kind and interesting man, it didn’t seem such an impossibility. What would it be like to be a baronne. I could actually follow my dream and move to France--but in a very different way than I had envisioned.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it,” I said, Tramadol For Sale.
Certainly Serge seemed healthy and stable, as well as generous and considerate. Even lovemaking had a flair; it was almost like being at a fancy dress ball or tea party--but feeling at home there. Cheap Tramadol, It was passion without lust, intimacy without sentimentality, total pleasure without concern for past or future. It was like the best of conversations with the closest, most interesting of your friends. Tramadol For Sale, One morning as we embraced in his large bed, pushing aside the bolsters, I complained that the long, narrow, cylindrical cushions gave me a stiff neck. He joked: “French pillows haven’t changed since the eighteenth century. But I’ll find you another pillow. Let me show you something though; these bolsters work quite well in certain positions.” Proceeding to demonstrate, he pushed one under my hips.
Someone once joked that little French boys are taught to be good lovers right along with their history and grammar lessons. Our orgasms came and went with pleasure but without disruption of a larger flow of communication, Tramadol For Sale. Serge explored my body with care, tenderness, and genuine interest--like visiting a new country, is Tramadol addictive. His body was taut and fit; the maturity of it excited me. How much of life it had experienced, like the collected memories inside his chateau. Making love with Serge was like being in that ancient space. Tramadol For Sale, Confinement with a great view. I called him mon petit chou, my little cabbage, a term of endearment usually used by parents for little children. It seemed so totally inappropriate for a man of his dignity that I found it amusing. After all his years alone since his wife had left him, twenty years before, something inside Serge was touched and pleased by this intimacy. Where can i find Tramadol online, “Oh,” he would cry out in surprise when I spoke to him in this way. “Non, c’est amusant, Tramadol For Sale. Continue. I like it.”
There was one odd thing about Serge’s body. Through the fleshy part of his left upper arm was a hole. The wound itself was long healed, but a small indentation tunneled through the tender flesh. Tramadol For Sale, Serge explained that during the war he had been a freedom fighter. One day out in the Breton woods, a Nazi bullet had come his way. That was all he would say. He quickly changed the subject whenever I mentioned it and pulled away when I touched his arm.
Mid-mornings, we walked together through the enormous gardens, kjøpe Tramadol på nett, köpa Tramadol online, collecting vegetables for the soup that Serge made for lunch. The pink, towered castle that dated from the fifteenth century fascinated me, Tramadol For Sale. It was really a miniature chateau, but was still a building of considerable size. Serge used it only for storage, as it needed much restoration within to be habitable. “I would love to see the inside of the tower,” I remarked.
The heavy wooden stairs, which curved up to the second story, were indented from centuries of footsteps. Tramadol For Sale, Since most of the windows were barely more than slits through the deep walls, fortress-like, it was dark, and we had to grope our way along. At the top, Buy cheap Tramadol, an enormous room contained piles of boxes and, surprisingly, a rowboat. “Ah, yes, these are my books from earlier times. I no longer read these sorts of books. Now I have much work to do, much to study.”
“What do you mean?”
“My work, with the gypsies; I’ll tell you about it some other time. Oh, my, yes, amusant, un bateau dans une tour, n’est-ce pas?” Serge changed the subject, Tramadol For Sale. The large, unfinished room was like a room in a dream, its ancient rafters dusty, Tramadol from canadian pharmacy, strung with cobwebs. Hundreds of boxed books surrounded the very landlocked boat. One end of the room gave on to the circular tower. The ancient planks sank slightly as we moved about. Tramadol For Sale, From the windows of the tower, I could see almost 360 degrees around, over the trout ponds, forests, pink water-mill cottage, the flower and vegetable gardens.
“Why don’t you come live here. You could work up in this tower. I would restore it for you. You could even have a horse. The riding is excellent through the woods around here.” As always, I loved imagining my way into other lives, Tramadol For Sale. What peace there was here. And the possibility of real love, companionship, Tramadol no prescription, an idyllic life. It would certainly be a leap of faith to give up the life I knew, my work and home, and make a permanent move to a new country at this point in my life. Would I feel like Rapunzel if I accepted. Tramadol For Sale, “On va voir. I’ll need to think about it,” I said as I hugged him.
A few days after our visit to the tower room, during lunch outside in the garden, I asked, “What is this about the gypsies?” He poured some more wine into each of our glasses.
“Part of every year I spend down near Avignon avec les gitanes, with the gypsies, Tramadol recreational. I help to teach the gypsy children. I play my guitar, Tramadol For Sale. I live with them for a few weeks at a time. And I bring them to . . . Tramadol For Sale, a better way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Him.” He pointed overhead to the Breton sky. Over the last years, he explained, he had fully embraced Catholicism. “Oh, yes, it’s very helpful, Cheap Tramadol no rx, very helpful.” When we went inside, he showed me a current pamphlet from the Catholic Church. “It guides me away from offensive or troubling books, movies, and television programs--those that are disturbing to my beliefs.”
Gradually, I was becoming aware that Serge was perhaps only being patient with me, waiting for the best moment to push me toward religion. Those outside of Christianity or Judaism were, he felt, lost. One afternoon as we walked past an old synagogue in a small French village, he asked me if I wanted to enter, referring to my Jewish heritage, Tramadol For Sale. “You should try,” he said. “After all, fast shipping Tramadol, you are among the chosen people.”
Some months later back in the States, while I was sitting in a Berkeley café, describing Serge and the hole in his arm, a Jewish friend remarked, “You know, Nazi sympathizers were sometimes identified with such marks.” He didn’t say how he knew this. Was there a connection between Serge’s Catholic work and some hidden guilt concerning his activities during the war.
When I criticized Le Pen, the infamous radical right-wing politician, to Serge, he said he agreed with Le Pen’s “La France pour les Français” and had voted for him in the last election. Tramadol For Sale, “Did you know,” I teased, “that Le Pen’s ex-wife has revealed in the press that he bleaches his hair blond to look more Aryan?”
“Arrête. Ordering Tramadol online, No politics, no religion. Remember?”
The summer was coming to an end. On one of the last days before I left for the States, we drove to the coast and visited old fishing villages. The late summer sun shone its false promise. After a lunch of wine-soaked mussels, we felt very relaxed and almost groggy as we strolled around the port, Tramadol For Sale. These ancient harbors were like museums for the rotting old carcasses of well-used fishing boats. The gray weathered wood revealed the ribs and core of the vessels. Looking inside them felt almost illicit. Once I had had a dream in which I was invited to look inside myself and could hear, see, and feel the sounds and sights of my own internal organs at work. Tramadol For Sale, Looking into these old boats reminded me of that dream. Somehow the whole experience was beginning to feel like a waking dream, buy Tramadol online no prescription.
“I want to show you the marshlands while the tide is out,” Serge said. From where we left the car, we had to walk a long way to reach even an inch or two of sea. The seaweed formed slippery, brown, changing patterns as the tide began to come in. At the bottom of some cliffs, there was enough depth to swim, Tramadol For Sale. Serge had carried our swimsuits and towels in a small bag. The water was very cold. “I bathe here most of the year,” Serge said as he plunged in. Rx free Tramadol, After a very brief dip, I climbed to the top of the cliff. Tramadol For Sale, There they were, just as I had seen them in archaeological photos. In large concentric circles stood the menhirs, ancient and mysterious stones from before the time of the druids. Some of them were etched with vulvas and breasts. What kind of a civilization had lived here. Until recently, no one had paid much attention to the female aspects of this early culture. My own work had moved toward the study of women in ancient cultures, Tramadol For Sale. So far I had not been able to get Serge to be curious about or even accept the validity of such a pursuit. “If I were a geologist studying stones, you would respect that,” I said to him.
“That is totally different, buy cheap Tramadol no rx. That is science. Tramadol For Sale, This, what you talk about, is . . . ah, come on. Remember, no politics, no religion,” he reiterated.
Maybe he was right; perhaps I was proselytizing him, even as I objected to his efforts to draw me toward Judeo-Christian religious beliefs, Tramadol For Sale. Gradually, I hoped, Where can i buy cheapest Tramadol online, he would respect and show interest in what I did. I touched the stones gently and lay on my back among them, staring up at the clouds, which were starting to blow in rather rapidly.
“Hurry. The tide’s coming back,” Serge called. Tramadol For Sale, I clambered back down to the flats. Serge took my hand and, as the water started up our ankles, we began to run. I had never seen a tide come in so rapidly. The sound of the gurgling, rushing water was hypnotic, Tramadol over the counter. I looked ahead to where our car was parked, up at the top of a steep cliff. It was at least a mile away, Tramadol For Sale. Serge was certainly in better shape than I--he ran easily, and I was already winded. It was thrilling to be swept along at the edge of a natural pattern in this way.

Soon another pattern swept me back to California: teaching commitments, my other life. Always there was that questioning edge. Tramadol For Sale, Like the sea brink where the waves approach and recede, whispering backward off the beach. I pictured life out of time: writing in Serge’s tower, walks among the tide pools of Brittany. Would I begin growing my hair long, Real brand Tramadol online, planning an escape from that charming captivity. And Serge, a reincarnation of a medieval prince, drawn to a modern woman. While Serge drew me out of my world into the peace and rhythm of tides and harvest, I drew him into the pleasures of the body, which he had long denied himself. Perhaps he was beginning to question some of his rigid views, Tramadol For Sale. For each of us, these challenges, while intriguing, might prove more than we could bear. Yet the promise of love, home, Tramadol alternatives, a coming to rest, a real rest, arms to entwine and comfort: These longings were of course within each of us.
Seven years passed. Work, travel, family deaths occupied me. Tramadol For Sale, Serge and I spoke from time to time, wrote perhaps once a year. My mother’s death marked the end of my now totally dwindled family. His words: “Don’t forget me too soon. Je vous adresse trois pensées without limit: Promesse Tendresse Caresses.” Later: “Charming and Sexy Lady: I love the seascape of San Francisco that you sent me. I send you a compass to help you negotiate in the fogs which must be quite bad there. , Tramadol For Sale. Discount Tramadol, . . Let me hear from you. I hope to have news soon of your return to France. . . . Your P.C.” (petit chou). I understood that his gift of a compass was a reference that his views were more clear-sighted than mine.
Something made me pick up the phone and dial Serge’s number, Tramadol For Sale. A woman answered, apparently a servant. “I will ask Monsieur le Baron if he can come to the phone.”
“It’s you. No, no, effects of Tramadol. I am sick. Tramadol For Sale, Don’t call me anymore.”
Stunned, I hung up the phone. Was he really ill. I sensed some anger in him, a disappointment with me.
Later that summer, I visited friends in their farmhouse in Lussan, in the south of France. With the self-assurance and intuitiveness of a French woman in affairs of the heart, my friend, when she heard about the latest installment in the Serge story, said simply: “You must write him immediately. Don’t refer to the phone call.”
Within two days, a response to my letter was in my friend’s mailbox, Tramadol For Sale. Tramadol cost, “My Fairy Lady. Come to me as soon as you can.”
Two TGVs later, I stepped out onto the quai at St. Amboise des Bois. I felt excited and a bit nervous. Tramadol For Sale, Like a slow-motion film, Serge and I ran toward each other from opposite ends of the train platform. His face had a few new lines, but he appeared to be healthy and trim. “You look wonderful, even younger and more beautiful,” he said, still the charming Frenchman. “Hurry. We must get home, Tramadol long term. The haying must be done today and I have no help, can’t afford to hire anyone, Tramadol For Sale. Anyway no one works properly. I must do everything myself.”
Later, at lunch, Serge looked at me: “When I saw you last, you seemed more confused. You had some deep unhappiness inside your soul. Now you seem more calm.” He continued: “There is a part of you I detest, a part of you I like, a part of you I love. Tramadol For Sale, This still continues to be the case.”
He was in a pensive mood, apparently had been so often in recent years. He began to play his guitar for me and to sing. I loved the sound of the music and the French language, Tramadol trusted pharmacy reviews, but his religious songs made me uncomfortable. “What about some Jacques Prévert?” I asked. He switched easily to French love songs.
“You warm my body and my soul, my love.” That particular song, its deep tones and eternal longing, always made me shiver, Tramadol For Sale.
He placed his guitar to one side and looked off into the distance. “It was so odd, you know, I had my small heart attack in the place where we swam together, near those old stones. Fortunately some people were walking along the beach and pulled me out.
“I want to tell you the real story about the hole in my arm. Tramadol For Sale, During the war, I was very much in love with a woman who lived in Paris. I was sent off to the German front. I realized I should have proposed marriage to her before I left because I knew there was another man; he was there in Paris. Of course, Tramadol samples, I couldn’t just leave my squadron. So I shot myself in my upper arm. I had intended it to be just a graze, but I misjudged my aim, Tramadol For Sale. The result was a serious wound. But it did give me a medical leave, which had been my intent all along.”
“So did you go to her?”
“Yes. But as I had feared, she had already accepted the other man’s offer of marriage. It was one of the great sadnesses of my life. Tramadol For Sale, Je n’ai pas eu de la chance dans ma vie. So much has not gone right in my life.” He recounted a litany of situations gone awry throughout the years.
A few days later, we had a dinner at the coast of the rose granite. Tramadol price, coupon, Le granit rose: a place I had loved years before. The sun set behind the small island just off the coast, outlining a small chateau with gold and rosy hues. As we walked along the coast, Serge said, “Those stupid pagan stones, Tramadol For Sale. Let’s go in to dinner.” In the restaurant, he complained about the slowness of the service. “I have my three-minute rule. If they do not come to us in three minutes, I get up and leave.”
The next morning was Sunday, and I suggested we visit some of the Breton Pardon festivals that were occurring. Religious in origin, these festivals were now a mixture of good times, ancient dances, and traditional foods, Tramadol street price, such as crunchy Breton waffles. Tramadol For Sale, At the town of Guingamp, women strolled in long black embroidered dresses wearing elegant starched lace caps on their heads. Dignified men in black suits, some with beards or mustaches, stood about. Soon the main parade would make its way through the town.
Serge parked on a side street, across a large square from the main gathering place. As he turned off the ignition, an urge welled up in me: a sexual urge, as well as, perhaps, a desire to test my own power. There was something exciting to me about the mingling of ancient earth religions counterpointed by the repression of them by modern Christianity, Tramadol For Sale. Both these forces were so strong within Serge. Unwilling to contain myself, I touched his thigh, then between his legs, and pulled him around me. “My, my,” he said in not unwelcome surprise. Tightening my upper thighs around his, I pressed myself against him. Tramadol For Sale, We both rocked and moaned our way to satisfaction. Intermingling with our cries were the ancient strains of Breton music--flutes and drums and bagpipes. Grinning, I looked at him. He pulled himself back together. “Ah, what tedious music. Let’s hope no one has seen us, Tramadol For Sale. Come, we shall miss the parade. You know this is a very sacred religious gathering.” It seemed appropriate that we had made love in the car next to a festival that combined the very elements that were the stuff of the attraction and conflict between Serge and me.
Back on his estate that evening, I watched two doves on the roof outside edge closer together. The breeze that came in tasted of autumn. Tramadol For Sale, L’heure bleue. Dusk was all around me. In the morning, fog covered northern Brittany. “La brume est arrivée hier soir,” Serge said. All was fog and mist as I looked out--it was like gazing down upon a great cloud. No more green land, no sea, Tramadol For Sale.
I needed to think about what to do.
I decided to return home.

From San Francisco, I wrote Serge, suggesting that, before it was too late, why not come together as best we could, share those parts of our lives that we could, give each other love and comfort. The years were passing. Tramadol For Sale, I recalled someone once telling the story of a tired Amazon who decides to take off her armor and rest, but discovers that it has become attached to her skin. I didn’t want this to happen to me.
About ten days later, through my mail slot tumbled a very large and full envelope. Opening it, I found a postcard photo of la côte de granit rose. Taped to the back of the card was the Christian credo’s “Profession of Faith.” “Voici ce que je crois. This is what I believe, Tramadol For Sale. It is for me the most important thing in the world. It is totally and absolutely incompatible with your own beliefs. No more projects between us appear to be possible. Oublie-moi. Tramadol For Sale, Forget me. S.” I poured the envelope’s contents onto the table. Ten years of my letters and writing lay before me.
Perhaps I always knew that I was pushing him too far, pressing the passions of ancient memories into his own beliefs. It was precisely this conflict that had been enacted on this land as the ancient stones and temples of the earth goddess were toppled by the new religions.
How would Rapunzel have felt if, when she finally let down her hair, the prince tried to cut it off, Tramadol For Sale. A kind of reincarnation of a medieval prince with antiquated ideals, not fitting into any world, Serge was left alone, which is perhaps where he always wanted to be. And I had free-fallen into a sea where love and freedom were on opposite shores. We had both drifted out on a tide that had no ebb.

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