3. LEO

1639 Words
At this early hour, the hotel's breakfast room is almost empty. I would have liked to enjoy a few extra hours of sleep, especially since I was just starting to get used to the jet lag. Unfortunately, my flight back to France is scheduled for a few hours, and my airport taxi arrives in thirty minutes. I sit at a small table, facing the view of the Saigon River. From my vantage point on the 10th floor, I see it stretching for several kilometres, seeming to make its way through buildings of glass and steel. This landscape seems so calm, and yet I only have to look down to the street and the hundreds of two-wheelers zigzagging around in an anarchic fashion to remind myself that the city of Ho Chi Minh in Vietnam never really sleeps. So I must take advantage of these few minutes of calm before diving into the traffic jam hell of the city. A waitress asks me in perfect English which drink I would like. I order a coffee, hoping it gives me enough energy to face this long day of travel. She walks away and while waiting for my order, I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket. I open sss. I don't officially work today, but I might as well be. To tell the truth, this morning, I don't care if I’ve received any news of my current contracts, I’m motivated by something else entirely. I have been doing something a little surprising for a few days: corresponding with a total stranger. As someone who doesn’t even have a f*******: account and who would never get into a conversation with someone I’ve never met unless I had to, I’m surprised at myself. And yet, we've been exchanging messages for a good week. What started as a trivial e-mail address error has turned into a discussion around bachelorette parties and other marriage-related celebrations. Again, I can say loud and clear that these aren’t my usual favourite subjects. And yet, I can't help answering each of her emails, even feeling a little excited when I see a new message waiting for me. As this 2.0 letter exchange progresses, I get to know the sender: Cora, a young woman of 24 who lives in the South of France. And that's certainly what pushes me to continue. Not the fact that she’s a woman, or that she’s roughly my age, but rather the idea that I get different information with each email. Put it down to my obsession with puzzles, which started as a child, or my passion for detective novels, I love to gradually create in my mind the character of Cora. I must also admit that her fresh messages have been a pleasant distraction from my rather stressful daily life these days. It's interesting to speak with someone whose concerns are the opposite of mine. No contracts worth hundreds of thousands of euros to manage, no planes to catch to get to the other side of the planet for Cora. She seems to have a quiet little life with her freelance graphic designer job in the South of France. She tells me that she rides a horse, that she walks her dog while trying to reach the friends of her friend Madelyn to organize a bachelorette party for her before her wedding scheduled for early next spring. I told her about the two mediocre bachelor party experiences I had. One for a cousin's wedding, where we just drank beers and told smutty jokes; the other was for a co-worker, where we ended up in a seedy bar, with a stripper who wasn’t faint-hearted. Not being excited about the evening, I left before the end. A week later, I learned that the wedding had been called off. The future groom didn’t have only wandering hands, and at a time when your every move is on the Internet, his fiancée was quick to find out and put an end to their story. Unfortunately for me, the reception was going to take place in the countryside more than an hour from Paris, where I live, I had already booked my hotel room. We decided, my girlfriend at the time and I, to go there anyway to enjoy a weekend in the countryside. It rained for two days, and locked in what looked more like a prison cell than the neat bed and breakfast room described on their website, we spent our time arguing. In the end, I too found myself single. Cora is a little stressed by the organization of this event. She confessed to me that she attended very few weddings, and never at the party which celebrates the end of the bride’s celibacy. The other witness doesn't seem much more inspired than her, and it seems that the thought of not having the perfect celebration for her friend Madelyn worries her. I understand that they are both very close. They are childhood friends who seem to have an almost sisterly relationship. I have the impression that she’s also very connected to her family. She tells me a lot about her parents and her twin brother. I fully understand this last point, since I too had to share my mother's womb. While some may say that the story of a twins' very close bond is a myth, I’m convinced otherwise. I’m a little disappointed to find that I have no new message. It must be said that in France, it’s the middle of the night. Never mind, I'll write her one. From: Leo Chorro 12/19/2018 at 6:07 am To: Cora Tuffin Subject: Good Morning Vietnam Cora, A last hello from Ho Chi Minh City before flying to our beautiful country. Here is a photo that will undoubtedly make you smile. Beautiful day. Leo Chorro Architect Chorro Design I’m attaching to the email a photo that I took the day before on my way to a restaurant. It’s a huge inflatable Santa Claus accompanied by reindeer and a snowman, in front of which tourists in shorts and flip flops pose smiling. The ridiculousness of this decor, certainly appropriate for the time of year, but not at all for the local climate, made me laugh. And I took the photo thinking of Cora, to send it to her. She confessed to me that she didn’t travel much, and she was suddenly very curious when I told her that I spent a lot of time on planes. However, I said that, despite having officially gone to many countries, I rarely had time to go sightseeing. Indeed, the places I visit are mostly bleak meeting rooms or building sites, not the kind of places you find on postcards. I finish my breakfast and think about my return to Paris. We are only a few days away from Christmas, it might be time for me to take care of the traditional purchases. Truth be told, it should be quick, the list of people I have to offer them to isn’t very long. My mother, my father, and for them, a bottle of wine bought from my neighbourhood wine merchant will do the trick. It’s not that they’re going to see each other for the holidays. My parents divorced four years ago, after twenty-five years of a cloudless union. I was the first to be surprised. However, they were like many others the collateral victims of the trials of life. So, in recent years, there’s no longer a family Christmas. In any case, none of us has the heart for celebration. I would have to go see my mother on my return. The end of the year is always a bit hard for her, I have to go and check that she’s not moping too much. A few hours later, I'm sitting in the airline lounge bar. I have a few minutes left before boarding, I almost automatically check my mailbox. To my surprise, I find a message from Cora. It's the middle of the night for her! From: Cora Tuffin 12/19/2018 at 7:48 a.m. To: Leo Chorro Subject: Good kisses from France Leo, Thank you for the photo, I didn’t realize that there are people who celebrate Christmas so far from home! The snowman is indeed a bit out of place. I didn't ask you the question, what are you doing at Christmas? At home, the holidays aren’t taken lightly. My parents organize lunches with family and friends pretty much every day between Christmas and New Year’s. It's a real food marathon! Suffice to say that I don’t intend to work that week. When I’m not eating, I’ll be digesting. Impossible to be effective in such conditions. I wish you a safe return to our country. Good luck with the climatic shock when you get off the plane. Cora I quickly type a message before having to stop all contact for almost 13 hours. From: Leo Chorro 12/19/2018 at 7:55 a.m. To: Cora Tuffin Subject: List to Santa Claus Cora, Christmas isn’t at all like that at home. I'm going to be content with lunch at my mother's on the 25th and dinner at my father's on the 24th if he's well. The week between Christmas and New Year, I planned to spend it at the office to get started on a few jobs. I’m in awe, I guess it takes a high level of training to survive so many meals. You have to tell me your little secret. By the way, what are you giving your mom for Christmas? I have no idea about mine, and there isn't much time left... For the climate shock, I'm not sure it's that important, they put the air conditioning on so strong here that it feels like the North Pole. See you soon on another continent. Leo Chorro Architect Chorro design
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