5

Carry Me

Breathing at the start was great. There was so much still to come. How would I feel at the end? Would I make it? I trusted Armen, but my upper body is not very strong, so how would I make out?

Starting out was pretty relaxing. I leaned on his head, and watched the houses and shops go by, the street and the trees. Oh, there's my car, we must be passing the cafe where we met. This isn't so bad. This is gonna be alright. Well, we're going down hill. No big deal.

People have interesting reactions. Some people just stare. One man smiled and said hello. Another said "well that's one way to get a work out." An African woman and her daughter dressed in brightly colored fabric laughed. She asked Armen if he wanted to take another one and offered her daughter for a carry as well. Interesting, they all knew that I wasn't hurt or injured, that it wasn't just silliness, but this was a premeditated activity.

I worried about Armen. How could I make it easier? He is breathing pretty heavily. I try to push up but my arms are getting tired. I pushed myself up with my legs. Armen noticed.

I could smell his sweat. I was closer to him than I've been with many, and for not knowing him very well, I got to know his scent, the smell of Armen, like I've gotten to know the scent of my mother, my sister, my husband, my cats, the scent that stays in one's bed and clothing.

Armen was sniffling, the cold making his nose run. I thought about offering my sweater to wipe his nose, but thought it would be more uncomfortable if fuzzy yarn got caught inside his nostrils.

Just after the half way point, I noticed my feet going numb. I could feel them tingling, as I rotated them to get some blood flow. The pinch in my legs was slightly more distracting from his grip.

I thought of the refugees I met in Tanzania a few summers ago, and how they walked for miles to seek some safety from their war torn countries, how they helped each other travel much further than Armen and I were traveling today. That was a matter of life or death. We rested today, but how long could the refugees rest? They endured much more than I ever have.

I thought of a movie I saw where a woman gave another woman a ride on her motorcycle. She told her to hold on tight, that it wasn't about sex, it was about not falling off. I held on tight to Armen for the same reason.

As we traveled back up the hill, the sidewalks were quite icy. We slipped once, but he regained his footing. I felt much more worried about his safety than my own. I felt safe. I'm not sure if it was his commitment or dedication, or that I knew him from a contact dance class so had already built up some trust, but I was not worried about my safety at all.

I felt awful when my shoe fell off my left foot and Armen had to pick it up. At least we were already stopped for a rest. I didn't even feel it happen because my foot was numb. I hoped I could keep my shoes on for the rest of the journey. I did.

Approaching the crest of the hill, I told him so, and he said he thinks of this as the easy part. I thought maybe he was a little crazy, or maybe he was of such sound mind that he could put his mind over the physical matter of pain or fatigue. Whatever you say pal, I'm still gonna do my best to push my weight up off of yours, make it as easy for you as I can.

Going down hill I thought would be the easiest, but with the ice, it was quite challenging, so we went slowly. I shut my eyes. I didn't need to navigate. It was more important for me to concentrate on my strength, or whatever was left of it.

When we got back to where we started, Armen said that he would circle the monument. Oy vey, I thought, go for it. I wasn't too excited to get off his back, although I knew it would bring relief. As soon as I stood, I realized why I had some resistance to getting down. My feet and legs were completely numb. I couldn't move for fear of falling over. I started at the ocean and asked for my strength to return. I slowly shifted weight to one leg. Not quite ready. I waited longer. When the shifting didn't hurt and I felt some balance, I turned around and looked at where we came from.

I can't believe we just did that! Wow! I am so lucky to know beautiful people in my life, artists who can feel and relate to others in such special ways, intimacy that isn't sketchy or full of expectations, respect for the body, the soul, the mind. What a treat to participate in this event, and a touch of sadness that it takes a special offering of a project to bring people together, that the building of community and sharing of love and intimacy doesn't happen to be part of human nature today, or at least here in Maine today. Thanks Armen, for this special gift. There's no time like the present.

Rachel
West End
Portland, Maine