Oliver Benjamin
those Great Light North people can get when you confuse them with
something more substantial.”
“You mean Great WhiteNorth, you buffoon,” scowled the
Canadian.
Huge turned to Gordy and smiled, “If you guys were a beer you’d
be America Light.”
“Bullshit!” he protested, “Our beer is better than yours!”
“Come on boys,” a tiny brunet suddenly interrupted, “What are
you so proud of? Hugo, you didn’t make America big and powerful,
and Gordon, you have absolutely nothing to do with the quality of
Canadian beer. Neither of you chose to be born anywhere.”
Neither Hugo nor Gordon had an answer for this. This was
Gordon’s girlfriend, Gwen. They had met Hugo on the bus from
Malaysia and were planning to visit Samrin for all the right reasons.
Passing around a bottle of Mekong whisky, they invited me to join
them for a drink.
“This Mekong is good stuff,” said Gordon who was now
considerably friendlier, “but they say it contains formaldehyde.”
“Great!” chuckled Huge, “we’ll be preserved for all time!” He
eagerly drained a large portion of the bottle. “Long live the
immortals!”
We sat and drank whisky together and watched the cavalcade of
hippies performing an array of arts and crafts and other activities.
Juggling was the big favorite, followed by some sort of game with
twirling sticks. Also, many were doing some kind of wacky freestyle
epileptic dance to the beat of assorted handheld drums. Everyone
was moving randomly, but in a similar fashion. It was all very
enjoyable to watch, and if nothing else, they all seemed happy.
Then, I saw a familiar face dancing in the crowd. He had a
bandana tied around his head, a big, beaded necklace and his shoes
were gone, but even without the glasses I recognized his peculiar way
of moving. My friend Oscar had been transformed into a dancing,
free-spirited earth child. With all the hippies cheering him on it
seemed that he had fallen into a good thing. I walked over and did my
best interpretation of the dance next to him.
“Hey man, you look happy!” I said over the beating of the
drums.
“Right on!” he said with great conviction, dancing furiously.
“I think we’re headed for a cool place!”
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