August 2024
By Chris Chi
Sharing stories about us
| Hello beautiful people, August has been intense. After back from the Gran Canaria, I went to Berlin to join my friends at the Whole Festival, then spent a few days on the coast in north France with my parents and finally found myself on the island of Tenerife riding emotional waves with someone who has become very important to me now. When I was in Berlin, I stayed with my friend Oliver first, then with Tom and Leszech. This year, all of them had decided to leave Berlin and start a new life elsewhere, Oliver in Madrid, Tom and Leszech in Warsaw. At first, I couldn’t believe it. It’s Berlin that they were leaving, a city that I was very fond of. Oliver once told me that I should move to Berlin. “You will fit right in here.” He said. Now he’s leaving. Nevertheless I am happy for them to be able to make decisions and take life in their own hands. At the same time I also know that next time when I visit Berlin again, it won’t be the same anymore. |
MEMORY-PAOLO
| Paolo, I met him once in Antwerp, many many years ago. I was immediately impressed by this man full of charisma and confidence. His laugh was infectious. He’s a man with lots of fascinating stories. He told me “Why don’t we go to the beach? It’s only 1 hour drive.” Just like that, we arrived at the naked beach in Vrouwenpolder. I can’t remember exactly which month it was, but it was a bit chilly when we arrived at the sunset. It’s my first time to photograph at the naked beach. Paolo got naked without any hesitation as if it’s the most natural thing. It was beautiful there, the sandy dunes, green bushes, the sea. We took some photos. I forgot what we talked on the beach. I remember we were delighted. He sat and then lied down in a small pool of water. I wanted to capture his face with its reflection. It’s like two dimensions merging together. We returned to his house after the photoshoot where I met his husband Eduardo and their adopted son. Our common friend Manolo was living with him for sometime. Then we said goodbye. Years have gone by. During a visit to Manolo a few months ago, Paolo came into our conversation. “Oh you didn’t know. Paolo is not with us anymore.” said Manolo. I was shocked by this news. My heart ached. “What? No! I can’t believe it.” Paolo died of thrombosis two years ago. All of a sudden he’s gone. I can’t imagine what his husband and children must have been through. “Why, him? Such a great man.” It took me a while to recognize Eduardo at Manolo’s birthday. When I did, I tried very hard to hold back my tears, mourning for his loss and mourning for my loss. I wanted to say something, but words seemed so powerless. Finally, when we sat down on the sofa, I asked him “How are you doing?”. I knew, it’s a dreadful question. Just like me, he had probably heard it so many times and got tired of it. “Surviving.” He said. I knew exactly what he meant. I have this belief that only people who have been through this traumatic event of death of a loved one can understand each other’s sorrow. Eduardo told me about his meeting with a medium in Antwerp and the messages he received from Paolo from the other side. “This changed my perception of the world and the death.” He said. I told him that I was interested in joining him for the coming medium meeting. Maybe it’s desperation. Maybe it’s hard to let it go. Maybe it’s a way to seek for answers. Maybe it’s a belief. I just felt I needed to do it. On a Monday evening, we went to this group meeting. There were around 10 people, a small group, in a private setting. The medium is a Dutch lady, with a calm appearance. They played music first, and we waited for her to make the connection to the other dimensions. In theory, the essence of people is energy. When we leave this mortal body, our energy doesn’t die but ascend to other dimensions. Somehow, if you fine tune your receptor (just like a radio), you can receive signals (make the connection) with that energy. I was not sure if Jos would send me a message that day. “What happens happens.” I thought. I heard a few stories, told by the Medium, messages sent by other spirits, a young lover, a grandpa, a dear friend…Those stories were about love, forgiveness, care, support…with very specific details. Then there came Paolo. He was still that charismatic man with humor, determined and caring. He gave Eduardo advise on their kids and reminded him of bringing him flowers. I recognized Paolo as how I remembered him. It was a great comfort knowing he’s still there somewhere. Eduardo said it’s normal that not everyone got messages. I know you can’t force it. I was a little disappointed, but it’s ok, I think. “When you are ready, Jos. Take your time.” Probably he still needs to learn and adapt to his new environment. On the way back home, in his car, Eduardo suddenly asked me, “Does bracelet mean something to you?” “Yes, sure, it does.” I answered, looking at that simple bracelet on my right wrist. I have been wearing it since the day that he left. “I felt something on my right hand. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I even thought that it’s my watch, but my watch was on my left wrist. Now I know, it’s a message for you. Jos was there.” I didn’t know what to say. I felt very close to him that evening. |
TENERIFE
| We planned two days to drive in the mountains and visit the sea in your van. You bought new sheets, ‘for my king’ as you said with a huge smile on your face. You are so different from me. Your life is so different from mine. Yet, I feel that we are similar spirits. To be with you is very liberating and exciting. You made me step out of my comfort zone and I felt wonderful to do so. Of course, I am still me. I can’t change myself into a new person overnight. ‘Patience is what I need. And I know, given some time, you will give me what I want.” Again, you said to me wisely. I am happy to be able to give you what you want and what you desire, slowly. I appreciate the fact that you understand me and my emotions so well. Better than anyone, even sometimes better than myself. You are a gift to me, sent by God, in the darkest time. We drove high above the clouds. The mountains were magnificent. I was so so happy to be on this journey with you. When we arrived at the beach, my breath was taken away. The majestic cliffs soaked in golden light, the waves were fierce, and people were in their happiest mood. How could you not be? We laughed and laughed. Jumped into the water once again, walked and walked, kissed, hugged, talked more. That’s what we do, innit? Everything seemed so natural and harmonious. |
| We had a great dinner in the village nearby. Every meal was a ritual for us, to make more memorable moments with stimulated senses. At night you parked the van in front of the beach because you wanted to show me the beach lit by the first sunshine the next morning. It’s the first time I slept in a van. So unusual but also I was content. You held me in your arms. We were close, skin to skin. We both had good laughs about me complaining about how sticky I was. We fell asleep with the sound of the waves. I woke up a few times and searched for your body to hold on to. I was thrilled to have this experience with you. When we are at our age, it’s precious to still have first time experiences. So thank you, mi novio, for giving me this. The next morning we woke up in the sunlight. A few surfers had arrived and some were already riding waves in the sea. We swam, feeling the freshness of the water, and the warmth of morning sunshine. Recharged and very much alive. The cafe was open. We had our coffees and bocadiollos. ‘They have camarones!’ You grinned at me. ‘You will love it!’ We bound in many ways but it’s even better to bound over the joy of tasting delicious food. Jamon, almejas, croquetas, chipirones, camarones, gambas, arepepa, gazpacho…these words sound so nice to the ears. Oh right, the camarones, hmmm, it’s heaven! |
| We read our books on the beach, of my favorite Chinese writer, Sanmao. There’s no more better place to read her books than Canaria islands as she lived here once with her husband José. Her tales were shared among millions of readers and now we are writing ours metaphorically and literally. “Jose’s final resting place is in La Palma.” “Yes I know. Many Chinese people make the pilgrimage to visit him. Chris, are you also a prilgrim?” I shook my head. Nah, it’s too serious, too much burden on one’s shoulder, too much melancholie. But for a second, in my head, the scenes in her tales appeared briefly and I looked at you, your goofy smile, slender body, with your passion for politics and flamenco. The idea of you being my José vanished. Nah, you are not him. You are you, Luis, mi novio precioso. We spent a few more hours on the beach. Morning coffee, first swim of the day in the sea, reading Sanmao, Camarones, talking to random people on the beach, check, check, check. This is our list of happiness as you call it. Find small happy things every day. Life will be good. Just like that, we survived our first night in the van. It’s not a disaster but a blessing. And that day I fell for you a little bit more. |
| In Los Silos, we wrote letter to each other every night before we went to sleep. I asked you once after having returned home from Gran Canarias where we first met. “When did you feel our connection changed? You know, when it became special.” I told you, for me, it’s when we started writing letters. You revealed parts of yourself that I hadn’t seen, a human with his own stories, struggles, vulnerabilities…Of course, your words about your feelings towards me were very touching too. Somehow I am unexplainably attracted to this contrast of different sides of you, a melancholic and soul-searching Luis in those letters and a worry-free, ever smiling Luis in daily life. Through these letters, you have become a real human being in my eyes. I don’t know what lies in front of us, but I know those emotions will be our stepstones to navigate through our journey together. And, thank you, for being so compassionate and understanding, and for being so patient. “Chris, you have just been through the most dramatic experience in your life. You were facing death and you were very close to it. Not many of us can understand death better than you. You are still grieving. No matter what you think, it’s still too early. Cry. Don’t let hold your tears back. Cry, if you want, cry, if you need, babe.” “Take your time, take it slow. I want to discover more of you day by day and fall in love with you, this person. I don’t want to fall in love with love itself.” You made me speechless. I will always remember these words and be grateful for having you in my life now. |
LONDON HEALTHROW
(Adrian in Berlin, April 2003)
Picture this: the last day on a dreamy, beautiful island, Oahu, February 16th. I’ve been chatting with this beautiful, smiley boy (at that moment, I didn’t know that) for the last 24 hours. We were supposed to meet last night, but since I’ve been illegally staying in a camper van around the island at night, trying to surf and explore during the day for the past week, I went to sleep early and missed his messages the night before. At this point, I had lost all hope of meeting him. I returned my van, and he said he couldn’t host, so the possibilities of spending the night with him were almost zero.
He messaged me in the morning, saying he was sorry for texting late. I typed something along the lines of, “Whatever, I’m used to guys ignoring me.” I don’t know how or why, but I decided not to send that message. It was as if I had finally learned to be less bitter and sour; people aren’t trying to hurt me, and they have their own things happening.
Instead, I texted him to see if he wanted to meet during the day and spend some time at the beach. After all, I had spent the past week alone, hardly speaking to anyone. To my surprise, he was very enthusiastic about meeting and spending time together. We decided to meet at Waikiki. He wanted to join a surf lesson, and I wanted to spend my last day surfing a bit more, so I took him to the school where I had my first lesson three days prior. On our way to the school, we started chatting, and I couldn’t help but think about how beautiful his smile was and how sweet he seemed. I thought it might be because he wasn’t a white European; for some time, I had been feeling that I needed to find someone from the Mediterranean or Global South; something wasn’t clicking with English speakers.
When we arrived at the school and were changing our clothes, I couldn’t stop admiring his beautifully tanned body. We got into the water; he was in his class while I tried to catch some waves, but the sea was very calm that day in Waikiki (nothing compared to the big waves on the North Shore, where the surf was happening).
At a certain point, we moved closer to each other, locking eyes, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was already in love with his smile and those beautiful freckles on his nose and cheeks. I had to hold back because all I wanted was to jump on him and kiss him all over. I knew the feeling was mutual and couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the walk back from the beach to the school.
The awkwardness between us was palpable, neither of us knowing how to express our desire to spend more time together.
“What are you going to do? Do you want to grab a bite to eat? Or are you going to go back to the beach? Shall we have a bite together?” We just wanted to get to know each other better, but we were both shy about it. While we were eating at Denny’s, I told him it was my last day and that I was sad to go back to LA, where I was visiting my ex/friend, who would be working the whole weekend. It sucked that I would have nothing to do. He genuinely asked me why I didn’t stay for two more days. I told him I couldn’t, as it would be very expensive to find a hotel and also change my flight. Without hesitation, he offered me to stay with him in his hostel room. I hesitated for a moment, but the second time he offered, I said he was crazy but that I was even crazier, and I accepted.
We left the diner, and I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him. What was this feeling? I hadn’t felt this in a long time. He made me feel seen, wanted, and desired. I wanted him too, in a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Finally, we looked at each other and kissed as if it wasn’t our first time; somehow, it felt familiar, as if we had been together for ages. Our lips were meant to be together. I could see his beautiful eyes, and I knew that he was smiling too.
We spent the best weekend exploring each other’s bodies and making the most of the limited time we had together. We couldn’t stop holding hands and kissing every part of each other. Sunday night arrived, and we were saying goodbye, thinking we wouldn’t meet again. He lived in NYC, and I lived in Berlin, but deep down, we were hoping we would see each other soon again and wouldn’t have to separate once more.
A month later, at the end of March, I found myself at the Berlin airport, picking him up and spending ten amazing days together. And now, on May 5th, as I write this story while waiting for my flight to NY, I think about how I had completely lost hope in finding love. Yet, when and where I least expected it, love found me and showed me that there’s still an opportunity.
Even though I know that another person is not going to complete me, save me, or solve my past traumas, navigating this hostile world with someone who makes you happy and loves you makes it so much easier.
FEATURED ARTIST: RAGINGLUNG
Photos by Raginglung
Tale of Men EVENTS
| Do you know that I have started to organize social events? In the last months, we have had a wellness afternoon, daytrip to the naked beach in Vrouwenpolder, a social naked board game gathering, and a few life model drawing sessions. The goal is to bring people together and enjoy a relaxed time, with a touch of nudity and art. I am happy that through these events we have created a small community. In the future, I hope to organize more diverse events. If you are interested, take a look and join us here. |
TALE OF MEN ZINES
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