Didar Masifi

dmasifi289@yahoo.ca

A while ago I had a great discussion with some friends about a movie called The Motorcycle Diary, though I was the only one who hasn’t seen the movie, that’s way all my friends recommended me to see it soon. The movie tells the story life of Che Guevara the international leftist icon, who spent all his life in talking to poor people. Therefore today in every corner of the world there is an image of him, and there are many young admirers of who either sell or distribute his attractive pictures and that’s from the narrowest streets of Istanbul to the widest ones in Los Anglos.

That night of our talk we were all pro Che but none of us agreed that today his revolutionary ideas would any more work in solving the world’s cumulative problems since his assassination.

We were in the middle of conversation pouring a dark hot Ahmed tea in our full stomachs and holding the teacups with the index fingers and thumbs similar to Che’s sophisticated way in holding a Brazilian cup of espresso in the times hot discussion.

All of sudden I surprised all my friends with this saying.

"I have met Che before!"

Their first reaction wasn’t surprising and I don’t know why I used the word of surprise just seconds ago. But that wasn’t big matter because insisting soon became my great clue. So I used that clue and told myself just say (Really, I did.)

So I said "Really, I did"

"Really"!! They all together said while their pervious funny smiles were slowly fading from their faces and now was leaving a very noticeable surprise in their places.

"Really you have met Che Guevara!" The girl said.

"Yes, but mathematically," I said.

"That is funny!" She responded and waited for my explanation.

"If you meet a person X and the person X has met a person Y, so that means you would meet the person Y," I said.

Let me put names and the time in my formula.

I’m that you in the bracket, X is Raul Castro, and Y is Che. I think you’ve got me know.

I used my imagination to picture a long time incident in my childhood and started to share my friends with it.

It was late seventies when I was a little kid in either was grade three or four I don’t exactly remember. But I know that all these years I was the top student and beside of that I had a great interest in geography which made all my teachers fascinated by my ability to tell by heart most capital cities of the world and names of the world’s leaders. And that was the reason to picking me up to be the first student in the role in order to welcome a well known guest who was on the way to visit our beautiful small town.

We were six kids one from each class glancing at each others and at the teacher’s with mouths wide open while repeating these strange words after him.

Viva Cuba! Viva Iraq!

He told as that Castro, the president of Cuba was visiting our town so we had selected you to welcome him by giving him flower and saying these words.

The teacher wasn’t knowledgeable enough two figure out that every dictator has a brother as a shadow waiting for power and also he wasn’t aware of pronouncing the Spanish V.

Any way he led us to the town’s only square where all official building occurred.

Castro is coming that was what most awaiting people where thinking about without mentioning Raul.

After hours of waiting we heard honks from a close distance and started to keep these words Viva Cuba; Viva Iraq in our lungs like a breeze from a far away ocean and which was much bigger than our small lungs to keep it longer than a minute.

The cars stopped and the teacher gave us a sign to free our lungs of the burden of not understandable words which meant

Castro shook our little hands by his giant one and sprat a wide smile beneath the matting thick gray hairs of his moustache and beard. While we were giving him flowers and calling loudly Viva Cuba! Viva Iraq!

He entered the building and the role of ours was ended.

Actually, Raul was the one who introduced Che to his older brother Fidel, who sent him as an envoy to meet the Iraqis future tyrant. And He brought with himself some fresh revolutionary ideas and some Cuban long cigars. Fore it wasn’t long after his departure the tyrant imitating them by sitting among Iraqi peasants, smoking his cigars and laughing the same as they did in Cuba. But everything of him smelled blood especially when he destroyed many real Ches in the mountains where Castro didn’t bother to visit.

I don’t know why everything we right or talk about will soon sink into the politics.

That night I was simply trying to tell my friends that once I shook a hand which had shook the hands of Che hundreds of times.

Actually, I told them that two South American well known persons have a great place in my heart and memory and both of them were born in the same year in which my late father was born too. But the one whose face is more attached to my heart is the face of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, whose face more looks like my dad’s face than Che’s. But because my cousin was executed in similar circumstance I chose his picture to look at as seeing the charismatic face of Che.

My friends were talking more in details about the movie and Che’s personality; on the contrast, and because I haven’t seen the movie and not have enough detailed information about the subject I was using my personal examples to enrich the topic.

Three years ago I was working for a large telecommunication corporation and where I had a Palestinian smart co-worker. He was a very peculiar person, witty and adventurer. Also he was a great admirer of Che.

He was in favor of seeing a large independent Kurdistan one day and for that he was blaming Arab nationalists. He had a great interest in astrology and rich knowledge about the universe, telling me things about The Great Explosion, Black Hole, and other stuff, also the newest scientific theories.

The only reason I’m now introducing that man to you is his passion for adventure and his love for Che. He traveled almost through whole Latin and south Americas’ countries, till at the end he stayed in Bolivia for ten years getting married with two different women in different occasions. Fore he was speaking Spanish just like the native speakers and beside of that he had his Arabic, English, and some French.

He was a lunatic leftist crazy for astronomy and in love with life so energetic so optimistic. He was a Che in the business suit, but blue eyes and bold. He told me that he visited Quebrada del Yuro the exact place where Che Guevare was executed. He married his third woman in Trinidad Tobago before heading to Texas.

Before Meeting this Palestinian man one day I had missed a great chance to see Che’s daughter in a seminar that she was holding in a city where I was living. It was too late when I noticed add which was introducing Dr. Aleida Guevara for ten bucks as speaker of the seminar.

I’m quite agree if you are telling that there wasn’t any thing new about Che in my writing, but I can tell you that whoever has a high ego is my new Che or more.

I will go back to my friend.

But it’s another week and they have already gone.

Today while I’ve got tired writing these words I took a short walk hitting the fallen leave on the sidewalk by my right shoe like the days of past. And I was thinking how to conclude my writing when I raised my head surprisingly approaching two evening lovers with two faces full of optimism.

The young man was wearing a T-Shirt that had the image of Che on it!