Page 19 of Status Undefined
“Aroi?”
Daniel was puzzled. “Is that Thai? Doesn’t sound like Hebrew or English.”
“Yes. I told you I was learning Thai. I asked if the ice cream was good.”
“Oh yes, veryaroi– almost as much as you.”
I rolled my eyes. It was probably a good sign that his corny humor was back.
And he was right – his followers hadn’t seen him as I had today.Some things aren’t good story material and visa renewal is one of them.
December 18
(visa expires in 27 days)
I’m not into soccer. I’ve never watched or played the game. Truth be told, a tutorial about how to cut a pineapple correctly would interest me more than the World Cup final. But it was the day of the final and Daniel roped me into taking photos of him playing soccer and, later, watching the game. Even worse – Keren decided to hang out with us, behaving like it was a life-changing event. She knew zilch about soccer, and I was definitely not the right person to explain to her what ‘offside’ means.
“How did you find people to play with? Do you know them?” I’d been in Phuket much longer than Daniel had and I’d never met a single soccer player.
“Ever heard of Facebook?”
I rolled my eyes.
“You’ve got to get over being so judgmental of social media. It can really be helpful!”
“I didn’t say it can’t, just that it does more harm than good.”
“I’m on social media all the time and I’ve never, ever, been depressed!”
“Oh never mind him, Daniel. Just ignore him. He’s old and crabby.”
“Do you want me to tell Daniel how depressed you were when…”
“Amit! We came here to support Daniel, not to talk about me.”
Truth was, I had no idea how I would have finished that sentence. Keren had been depressed about so many things I couldn’t care about – the guy who broke up with the girl and vice versa, and the band (Dragon something?) who cancelled their concert in Thailand. At least Daniel had shown up and made her happy. I guess that made up for it all and I was really happy for her, even if it was going to be short-lived.
I expected the other players to be Thai, but they turned out to be – and I put this delicately – Vikings. I wasn’t short, but when you’re facing nine young guys all over six-foot-two who look like they spend half their lives in the gym, you feel like the shortest person in the world. I heard Daniel swallow and guessed he was feeling the same. That’s the problem with social media – you never know exactly who a person is from their profile.
Keren and I sat on the grass next to the field. I tried to shoot a video clip of Daniel with the ball, but he kept getting bowled over by a Viking before I could capture it. In their world, this might have been normal tackling – everything’s relative. There was a lot of cursing in Russian. I felt a bit sorry for him, but he pushed through. Keren cheered in every language she knew, and was rewarded with an occasional smile, making her glow. Then it started to drizzle, and I put the phones into my waterproof backpack. Fifteen minutes later, the rain washed out the game; the field was a giant puddle. I was relieved because Daniel looked beat.
“Pity it was cut short. That was fun.” Daniel grinned when we were in the taxi.
“Are you serious? Take a look at yourself!” His hands and knees were bloody.
“I don’t care how I look. I feel good.”
“You played well, too!” Keren turned out to be blind as well as starstruck.
“Thanks, Keren! Hey babe, did you give the driver my address?”
“No, you’re coming to our place.”
“Why? I was going to watch the final at the bar near my place. It’ll photograph well.”
“You’re limping and bleeding. You need to be tended to! You can’t go out like that or look like that in photos.”
“Nonsense. The Instagram filters will clean it all up.”
