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“A fiasco is the place where you rise from, for going on.” C. Noica, a Romanian philosopher, said this. I do not know if it is quite so, but it works for me. Maybe Noica is wrong! Then, here is another one: William Arthur Ward.
– The pessimist complains about the wind.
– The optimist expects it to change.
– The realist adjusts the sails.
1. Swalwood is the name of the first driver who put his emblem in the special place where it is written: “Your operator ... safe, reliable, courteous”. In my previous trip, three years ago, all the bus drivers abided by this rule. I do not know if it is a decline, or just the area that we travel through. Back then I traveled in the North, now we are in the South. Certainly, the North is more “English” than the South in all respects, particularly when it comes to observing the rules. In the South, to arrive late at a rendezvous is almost the norm, whilst in the north it would be an unforgettable impoliteness. Besides being safe, reliable and courteous, I may add that the driver has a passion for baseball, as he keeps asking some boys with headphones to keep him up to date on the evolution of one particular game. Instead, he does not bother himself too much with observing the traffic rules. Running late, he speeds on the mountain road, narrow and sinuous. But he drives very well. I enjoy it, but it is so unusual for the American style.
However, one virtue for which he is being paid is distinctly missing: courtesy. During a short stop, I asked him to repeat a phrase, which I had not understood. He did so, but even faster. I did not ask him to word again that phrase. It is the privilege of intellectuals to express the same idea with different words. Common people usually just repeat the first expression, even if it contains unknown words for the interlocutor. That is why it is much easier to talk with educated people. On this occasion, I felt that is was not the problem with the level of sophistication, but with unwillingness.
As we travel west, the road descends, as we leave the mountains behind, and finally leave Arkansas. The localities are closer to one another. Here, breeding cattle seems to be the main business. And many buffaloes may be seen. The farms become better organized, more ordered and tidy. Some ranches with breeding horses of selected race appear. It seems we have again entered the United States, after a raid in another world. Even the driver became more likeable. Now, he uses the microphone as a tourist guide and gives information about the places we are going through. He is the first driver who has done this.
Tulsa (Oklahoma) is the name of the first important town. There is still a long distance to go to Albuquerque, New Mexico, my destination. Very long! Tulsa is a nice town with a small downtown area with four tall buildings and several others of moderate size. It seems agreeable just because it has tried to ratio modernism with tradition.
Although I swept through the state of Arkansas through its northern part, it is only now, in Oklahoma, that I cross the Arkansas River. It is an important river, coming over a long and sometimes wild route from the mountains. I found a brochure publishing some trips where tourists can jet boat through its waters, passing whirling waterfalls, cliffs, canyons and all kinds of rocky outcrops. It is true that, before flowing through the plain, the river passed over rock beds and through deep canyons such as the Royal Gorge. What catches my attention is the multitude of colloquialisms for “white water”. I met some indicators with this expression for swimming pools in Georgia. There, the water is not white as such, yet it suggests that the place is clean, secure, and safe. There are many meanings of the word “white” in Romanian language as well and probably in lots of other ones. The American language is even more dynamic. For example “cool” instead of “hot” for exciting (not inciting) deeds. Coming back to white water, in the brochure on the Arkansas River, one can imagine white foam washing over rocks. “But the trip will be secure if you do it with xxx, which is the best company in this field. A hazardous adventure becomes a joyful but secure escapade thanks to our experience. With only $200 you can spend two unforgettable days, blah, blah, blah...” It might be “cool”, but not for me right here and now. So far everything is all right, but there is a nuance: if the white is so good, in contrast black becomes the opposite idea of clean, secure, etc. I am afraid we will never know if this nuance is just accidental.
Life can be intricate but man has the capacity to pass over its tribulations by more than one way. One of them is the forgetfulness. He forgets unpleasant episodes and goes on. The predilection of men for soldier’s jokes has just this explanation. Only small amusing events remain in one’s memory, as if military service had been nothing else but a continuous entertainment. Big mistake! All the same, I have to commit the same error as well, because the episode with Sheila is best forgotten at least for psychological reasons. I think that from this point of view I have already surpassed the critical moment. It remains to see how I will succeed in getting over the palpable effect on the trip schedule. I had been planning to stay there, among the mountains, where I could paint and put my notes in order. Painting was necessary, because I had left six of my best large paintings in a gallery at Fort Lauderdale, Florida. These that remained are too few for an exhibition, even for showing to art dealers. From now on, it will be increasingly difficult to paint, as friends lodge me for a short time. The traveler fits in with the travel, doesn’t it? Hotels are too expensive for me. I shall see! Tomorrow is another day. Do you remember Scarlet O’Hara? Atlanta is far away now. For the moment I am best to forget what could be ballast, namely worthless and pernicious.
Speaking of forgetfulness, I have always found interesting the proximity of meanings between the verbs to forget and to look back. It does not work in English but it obviously did in Romanian and, probably, in old Greek. I do not know for sure, but Orpheus’ legend makes me think so. Let me explain. In Romanian language, to forget and to look back, are synonyms: “a uita”. As far as the legend goes, it is nice. Thanks to his special qualities, Orpheus had got the privilege to bring back to life Eurydice, his wife, who had just died. Persephone— Hades’ wife, who granted him this unexpected favor—asked him not to look behind on his homeward journey until they reached the upper world. Everything goes well but, when they were about to get out, he looked back for making sure that Eurydice really was walking behind him. At that moment, Eurydice vanished back into the darkness of the underworld. In a moment of wandering, Orpheus forgot (a uitat) his engagement, and looked back (s–a uitat inapoi). Later, a fierce mob of women killed him and threw his head into the Hebrus River. The head continued to sing for Eurydice, and was carried as far as Lesbos, where the muses buried it. Let’s remind ourselves that his mother, Calliope, was a muse too. In Greek philosophy everything takes part in a cycle, and comes back to where it departed from. Also, singing means to obey the memory.
Perpetual return is the fundamental principle in most old faiths, which even the Greeks could not elude. The Jews broke the cycle and the Christians perfected it. They created history, namely something that has a beginning and will have an end. Wow! The Greeks, at the height of their advanced conception, had the notion of infinite only for the time, not for the matter. According to their conception, atoms were of a finite number. It results from this theory that, however great the possible number of combinations would be, as time is infinite, the atoms will return to identical configurations already seen in the past. Consequently, every shape of life will return somewhere at the same stage after a while. From here, it comes the idea of the cycle reaffirmed in nature in an infinite number of forms and confirming the idea of perpetual return.
Oriental faiths start from the idea that, removing wish, we get rid off the sufferings. But pain is a sign that something goes wrong. It is only a symptom. Removing it we do not remove the cause. Consequently, we must correct our wrong way, behavior, or convictions. This is the only way. We cannot make a perfect thing for the first time. Not even God succeeded. He still works for improving His Creation. As for the Bible, it needs many updates.
Happiness is everybody’s main aim. Any man seeks his own happiness. That’s why all serious religion tried to give a way to its parishioners. Usually, they are persuaded to do nothing but follow an established way. Doing it, they are happy because they are sure they are on the right way.
As for me, I must confess that I love to learn as much as possible; I split hair for it. Maybe this is a flaw and not a quality, as I am happy only for the moment, when I have just learnt something, but I am not happy generally.
But I philosophize too much for a tired traveler, and in the meantime night has fallen. Oklahoma City, Amarillo – the names sound fine but for now they are only bus stations in the night. I am used to sleeping in the bus by now. In Amarillo I make brief contact with Texas. Brief because the bus route crosses Texas only on a short sector of its northern part. Short, but powerful! At least in the bus station there are plenty of specific products and publicity materials. Texas is a well–known name and everyone loves to see it. Maybe I will have the opportunity to see the real Texas later. For the time being, my travel continues toward New Mexico.
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