An Italian woman by the name of Carianna moved in in the middle of the night as the three males were focusing on their tasks (Daniel was nowhere to be seen): whether it was watching tv-shows or planning trips and booking tickets, all were using the Wi-Fi with poor connectivity. As all hostels had.
They scrambled to pull on their (pajama) trousers when the sight of a female inhabitant was present, Cay walk briskly to the toilet to collect his half-damp underwear and socks, passing and excusing himself to Carianna. After the ordeal caused by the sudden appearance of a female, Judas tried to reasonably converse with her, which calmed her a bit from the embarrassment of seeing half-bare males. They went back to their respective positions while she unpacked.
Seeing a new occupant in the room, Cay introduced himself to her and quickly the topic went to places of travels in Italy, led by Carianna with Judas listening while reading his emails. There were talk about best places for pizza (“Naples.”, answered both the Italian and Japanese.) and enquiries about places worth visiting. They all received the best advises from a local than from paper and tourism websites, which they knew were just a way to crowd the already saturated attractions.
They soon all went to bed as everyone had the intention of taking the advantage of maximum daytime.
Cay and Judas set off for the Roman Forum the next day after quick-boiled tortellini and cereal, the latter was Cay’s favorite quick-prep Italian dish before class during his university days. Most days he cooked, especially when Jenna was still around during their first-year. Like everyone in their initial stages of falling in love, Cay tried every possible means to impress his girlfriend: homemade meals, one-day trips, and exercising, the latter Jenna had no interest in at all. Those were the old and best times.
The ruins within the Roman Forum gave the two a more detailed imagination of how Rome used to look like---The capital of the great Roman Empire. They observed the crumbling columns and fallen and dusty establishments behind the rails, it was sufficient enough for the two to spend a full almost completely immersed in their imagination. Rome never ceased to provoke fantasies of old. They drank coffee at a nearby restaurant that served doughy pizzas and mushy pastas and talked more about their lives before university, which both silently agreed were appropriate.
“So that’s how you took interest in travelling around the world.”, intrigued by Judas’s last answer.
“Yeah, my father never took much interest in me anyway. Mum only appeared when I was in trouble.”
“Like?”
“Like when I got into a fight with a school bully in my second year before GCSE.”
“So, she bailed you out from the faculties?”
“No, she just scolded me in front of the principal, which wasn’t fair.”
“That’s a definitive answer.”, Cay took a sip from his latte macchiato, “But, did you win?”
“Sure, of course I did.”, Judas showing his confident smile that Cay has always liked since they met.
Judas smirk, Cay felt a sense of relieve.
*
During Judas’s time in Myanmar, the holocaust of the Rohingyas was continuing. There was not much that he could do to change the war, not even save the dying child in front of him, which was supposed to be left to the doctors and nurses, if there were enough of them to be dispensed.
He arrived at the peak of the genocide, 2015, people worldwide never knew about this because of the suppressed media by the local government. His first task was to help move provisions of medicine, food, and bottled water from Akyab to several refugee camps set up at various locations. He was proud then, to be part of the humanitarian crisis response, to make a difference. He began to unload medicines while at one of the refugee camps when a woman came up to him, introducing herself as Mya, which meant emerald.
Mya was a Burmese who grew up in Yangon, a shining city prided for its’ religious values by all its’ inhabitants, ironically letting some part of the country suffer. Perhaps it was a price for being religiously centric that the elites saw the Rohingyas, which are mostly Muslims, as a threat needed to be exterminated. She had been with the victims since the holocaust started in the Rohingya state.
“Get the syringes to the medical tent over there first, leave the rest.”, said in her slight American accent.
“All of them? Now?”, asked one of the volunteers.
“Yes, now.”, they each grabbed one or two boxes of syringes and began walking to the aid-de-camp.
Not wanting to look like he was any less enthusiastic than the others, Judas carried two boxes with only slight difficulty, thanks to his larger Western built and recent years in the gym. The current doctor who was posed outside of the camp gave the list to the local nurse, and she took in the numbers of medical supplies by recording what they received onto the list, without ever looking up. They went back for medicines after being given a description by the unflinching nurse, Mya walked up to Judas from beside without him noticing.
“I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“Huh? Oh, I’m new here. Just got sent over.”, Judas’ tone sounded a bit alarmed after being caught by surprised.
“Hello, I’m Mya.”, she ignored his surprised voice, sticking her hand out and he shook it.
“I’m Judas.”
“Quite a name from the bible. Why’d your parents call you that?”
“I don’t know, probably because of the salvation I would help to bring?”, Judas felt that his joke was out of place, in this camp and in front of a volunteer who had been in the conflict alongside the Rohingyans.
“Let’s just hope so.”, he was not sure whether she registered the joke but chose to ignore it, or took it as a sign of enthusiasm. Judas never had a convincing face when it came to telling jokes.
Mya showed Judas around the camp, it was a moderate size one from what he had seen previously, about five hundred Rohingyans and a handful of doctors and nurses inhabiting it. The volunteers were to stay for a few days because a large shipment would arrive by then, the doctors were busy with examining wounds and diseases while the nurses were applying dressings and ticking checklists. Everyone had a purpose here, thought Judas, reminding himself not to break the rhythm of the atmosphere by idling.
“Judas! Come on and help me out here!”, shouted one of the volunteers as he rushed over to the lorry of supplies. Looking back at Mya’s restless figure, surrounded by pale and tired refugees.
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