Paula Brukmüller - Flowers from Greece - The Autobiography of the Journalist Who Turned a Personal Tragedy into an Inspiring World Tour

- I’m not talking about a relationship either. I mean, right now I’m having fun on my own – I explained gently.

- Sure. I’m sorry if I bother you. I needed to try at least. – He looked down with an upset expression.

- Don’t worry. I’ll grab another beer so we can forget this situation – I said, trying to break the ice.

I spoke to Luís again so that he wouldn’t think I was upset with him, but when I thought everything was clear between us, he insisted again.

- Are you sure you don’t even want to kiss me? Maybe you’ll like it? We have nothing to lose – He said, looking at my lips.

- Please don’t make things difficult for me. I don’t want you to be upset – I said, turning my head to the side.

I knew I didn’t want to kiss him. I already knew myself well enough to know that if I really wanted to kiss him, I’d have made a move already.

I looked around the room looking for someone who could get me out of that situation. I was feeling bad because I thought I’d hinted that he had a chance with me.

I didn’t want to go to bed yet, but I didn’t want to be near that inconvenient Portuguese either. There were no familiar faces around the bar though.

I had been in the hostel for less than 24 hours and I had only talked to Luís and a Brazilian girl called Luana, who was also a volunteer and gave me some tips the night before, when I arrived from the airport. I took a look at the tables and couldn’t find my Brazilian friend. After the fourth glass of draft beer, I might not remember exactly what her face looked like.

- Please, just a kiss. It seems we’re getting on well, we’re laughing and having fun. Come on, just a kiss – he insisted again, with a saddened look.

It was a reasonable kiss, but I felt bad for going against my will. I made it clear to him that the next day things would be the same as before. Luis agreed and I stayed there for just a few more minutes until I went to my room.

He asked to follow me and insisted that we went to his room first. I gave in once more and I felt even worse. Why couldn’t I just say no and impose my will?

In the balcony, he started trying to kiss me again and wanted to warm things up between us no matter what. I thought he was manipulating me and got so angry that I had to put an end to that.

- Luis, get away from me. I didn’t even want to kiss you, but you insisted and I gave in. I also said I didn’t want to come here, but I gave in again, even against my will – I said. I was angry and he was trying to hug me to calm me down – Don’t touch me anymore! – I shouted. – I will no longer give you the chance to keep persuading me to do things I don’t want to. I’ll go to my room right now, because I’ve already done too many things I didn’t want to for today. Good night.

I left in a hurry without listening to his arguments and apologies. I got into my room furious with myself for allowing it all. I brushed my teeth and my tongue really angry. I wanted to erase that kiss from my mind forever, but my desire was to take the guilt I was feeling out of my mind. Once again I wanted to go back to the past and undo everything, but I was too drunk to convince myself that going back wasn’t possible.

Lying on the bunk bed, staring at the moonlight through the small window in front of me, I began to spin the japa mala in my hand repeating a self-forgiving mantra, and I fell asleep before finishing half of it.

Iarrived at the breakfast buffet a little late. I recognized Luana, my Brazilian friend, sitting at a table with a cup of coffee at the end of the room. The restaurant was in front of the sea and was lit by the sunlight reflecting off the water. It was a beautiful day and that gave the place a touch of Hollywood glamour.

I spotted Luis sitting at one of the front tables and pretended I didn’t see him. I poured my coffee and sat at the table with Luana, who was about to collect the dishes from the serving line. I started to ask some rules about the volunteers’ code of conduct. It was my first job in exchange for accommodation and I wanted to make sure I was acting right.

Suddenly, Luana gave a serious look over my shoulder and her tone changed completely. Before I turned to find out what it was, Luis surprised me with a kiss on the mouth.

- Good Morning. Are you alright? – He sat down, a cup of coffee in his hands.

- I’m not sure – I said, with my lips tight not to return the kiss, and with a confused face. Luana and I looked at each other with a strange complicity. I wanted to tell her that this was a mistake, but I was too confused by his behavior. What was the part he didn’t understand last night? Wasn’t I clear enough about wanting nothing more from him? – Shouldn’t you be working already? – I asked with a disapproval tone he didn’t seem to notice.

- Yes, since 7:30, but I wanted to wait for you to say good morning.

I was feeling sick and it had nothing to do with the hangover or the cereals in front of me. I didn’t know what to do to get rid of Luis. I felt an urge to be rude to him, but I didn’t want to be unpleasant or make him uncomfortable in front of Luana.

I was silent and just turned my body over to my friend and kept asking what volunteers could and couldn’t do in that liberal hostel.

I noticed Luana was very formal dealing with Luís. He, on the other side, didn’t leave me alone until I finished my coffee and followed me along the 122 steps that connected the beach restaurant to the main street, where the hostel reception was and also Isadora’s house, where I worked.

- I got your WhatsApp number yesterday. I’ll send you a message to meet you when our work is over – he said, trying to give me another kiss.

I, who was completely silent along the way, kept being like this. I answered nothing and didn’t move, but neither did I return the kiss. I turned my back and followed my path scared with myself. I urgently needed to understand why I was stuck and couldn’t simply say no. Although I was clear when I left his room the night before, something wasn’t right with him either. Maybe I hadn’t been clear enough.

As usual, Isadora asked me to make the beds and arrange the clothes scattered around the house before starting work on social networks and reservation websites.

The mess in the house seemed to increase every day, but I started to see it as something cultural. My manager complained a lot about almost everything and sometimes was quite aggressive in the way she spoke to me. I always answered everything very politely. I was absolutely certain that I was doing my best, doing things that weren’t my duty as a volunteer and working longer hours than I was supposed to. When she seemed to lose her temper and was harsh on me, I’d say to myself: “This isn’t mine. Then I won’t carry it. ”

That same afternoon, I had been working for over 6 hours without stopping for lunch. Solon, Isadora’s husband, was sitting on the couch watching TV and they were talking about something in Greek that I was unable to understand. At the same time, she was telling me in English the room prices for the upcoming summer season.

I didn’t ask anything not to interrupt the conversation. When I stopped typing, she’d turn to me and call for the next room. At one point, I realized that their conversation had changed, and I continued in awkward silence, staring at the computer screen. When she finally asked me which one was next, I didn’t have time to answer.

- Get out of here, Paula. I can’t finish this now. Tomorrow or later, we’ll continue – she shouted, pointing a finger at the front door.