Emiliano Mancilla

I arrived around 6 to the airport and then took the metro, Julia would pick me at La Salle station. While I was waiting for her, I could notice that the Ukrainian Village was close, and being that I’m terrible staying at one place without anything to do, I decided to take a walk through the neighborhood.  

While I was on my way I remembered “Back in the USSR” by the the Beatles, as they would sing “the Ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the west behind”, what a great song! it was one of those that made you move your body unconsciously. 

The first time I could handle a conversation with a girl I was enormously attracted to, was surprisingly with a girl from that country back in university, during a summer where I studied in Prague. I was on my way back from a weekend in Warsaw, when this beautiful girl named Maggie, got in the bus in the middle of the night in one of the stops and asked me if the seat next to me was free. And we had a 15 minute talk that felt like a decade in heaven, ended by a mad passenger trying to sleep. She was going to an Ed Sheeran show, when we arrived we said goodbye and exchanged numbers. 

I tried to meet her again while she was staying but we couldn’t match our agendas as she was going for 2 days, naturally I made an effort to keep in contact with something as precious as that being, telling her everything about my adventures, which at first were interesting, until they were not back in México, influenced by the grievances of everydayness.

The second Ukrainian girl that was in my mind was Maria. This beautiful lady, older than me, who I liked to call “my Ukranian MILF” when I was talking with my friends. I met her a year before, when I was visiting my friends from Budapest. I did everything right with her; the casual introduction, the conversation (which makes me proud as she was an astounding learned lady), the body language, the way I grabbed her and the way I kissed her… even the texting which is not my best. The thought and the act of cybersex never got into my mind until I texted with her once we were away. 

She told me one of the most beautiful phrases when we were kissing on a bench close to the heroes square. 

“I’m drunk of you”

What a beautiful phrase to hear. So truthful, so accurate, so perfect, as it sublimely describes the sensation when you reach a superb level of intimacy with the other person. Even greater when you realize that the bad thing about kisses is that they create an addiction. 

The time erased some interest, although we kept sending some messages from time to time. Most of my messages were when I was either nostalgic or horny. 

The so called Ukrainian Village ended up being out of anything Ukrainian related, maybe it was out of Ukrainians too, I had to go back anyways as Julia was arriving, she looked pretty elegant, the freshness of a girl earning in dollars and living in a proper house. I think she looked even more radiant because she was a ballerina which meant that she had the appropriate body to model the clothes you find in a Zara shop. 

“I’m sorry for not going to the airport, Mina’s mom took her brother to the zoo and I had to take care of her”

“It’s all right, I got to walk a little bit around the block looking for the eastern European girls”

“Yes, because you’re a fucking fuckboy” 

“I am not, where are we having breakfast?” 

“There’s a place 2 blocks away where they sell great quesadillas” 

“I feel it’s kind of redundant for me to eat quesadillas since I just arrived from México, but if you want, let’s go” 

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to eat, my jaw was killing me, and I had to take care of my infection. I decided not to eat anything, nevertheless once we got into the place, the smell of banana seduced my brain, making me remember the banana milkshakes my mom made me when I was a child, and fortunately I got to discover that they sold smoothies too, which was a drink I had not tried but was curious about. And “Oh my god”, I had one of banana, peanut butter, chocolate and dates that was delicious. It was even better as it was some kind of shake that was supposed to be healthy, that could be my breakfast, lunch and dinner for the rest of my life, or are least the perfect one for the next month as I didn’t have to chew, which I could but was really painful. 

When we finished, we went to Julia’s apartment so I could take a nap before going to the “beach” (which was really a lake). Before leaving, Mrs Fuji arrived with Mina, her brother and other ballet children. Mrs Fuji was this posh Japanese woman with no more attributes than her skinny figure, her beautiful face and her cordial smile. Enough to let all my fantasies go through my head while I was playing ping pong with her son. “Kid, I could be your papa for the next 2 days”. 

Naturally Julia got mad at me when I told her I would do Mrs Fuji. 

We got ready and went to the bus stop. 

“It was good that you came this weekend because I feel like I’m going to be in my days next week” 

“Of course, I got everything calculated” 

“Yeah when I’m on my days I start feeling sad… well I’m actually always sad, but in my days I’m sadder” 

The last times we talked it usually started with either her telling me how sad or not good enough she felt, or myself telling how much I liked one girl. After a thousand and one conversations, the feeling of worry was erased and the sense of familiarity emerged. 

… 

“Your boobs look enormous” (her boobs did look gigantic, yes sir) 

“Yeah” She nodded, kept silent for 10 seconds and then gave me a good slap on my face. 

It seemed like my commentary was so random it took her by surprise, making it difficult for her brain to process the input. But that was the truth, I don’t know what type of chemicals Americans use in their food, but I did notice in our last 2 video calls before visiting her that there was something going on with the size of those melons. There was always a 3 second scene where the camera put them as the main characters and they bounced as if they wanted to win an academy award, giving me the quick sensation of watching a Carls Jr commercial, followed by an “Ohh” from a sleepy surprised Julia, refocusing to her face and continuing the conversation.  

We took the bus and went to the beach and asked for a piña colada (I though it was not a bad idea since it was cold and could help me to feel less pain in my jaw), I found interesting that I was never sure about the timing in the prescriptions, those 8 hour gaps between medicine didn’t feel as meaningful until my operation, as it wasn’t the time but the pain in my jaw what made me impulsively check the time, anxiously waiting until I could put my ketorolac pill under my tongue and hope for the best. Fortunately, the conversations kept me calm and when I took the medicine I could start feeling the effects after 15 minutes.

I couldn’t help getting into the water, I never had the luxury of going on a constant basis to the beach or places were there was a pool available, so every time there was a chance I had to get in. So I walked step by step into the warm beach/lake to the deepest I felt I could go, looked at the waves in the eyes and tried to break them, then I plunged for a long time and when I came back to the surface I saw the beautiful old, immense Chicago buildings in front of me, shining with the reflections of the sunlight, stealing the protagonism of the water. And that was the first time in a long time when I felt that things where really changing, I started feeling the freedom and power of the place where I was and the places where I was going to be. It was something beautiful, as finally I was on my way to chase my dreams.