The volcanos reflected in the lake. We started to take the photos of the view, even though I was not in a mood to―it was disgusting the way that bitch made an allusion to the nasty thing about me. Of corse, there is no one to be able to point out her insolence.
While I managed to disguise my agitation, the driver silently pointed in the direction of the sun that started to touch the horizon. I gazed at the orange shape glowing and inflating as if it provoked me to anger. The sun was now sinking into the ground and the sky had become deep blue. I had been extremely busy taking photos, walking back and forth. Finally the sky lost the color―purple layer loomed above the volcanos.
After sunset, as we huddled round the jeep, the driver said, “The starlight and the sunrise, more beautiful.” “Really?” said the plump young woman with curly, black hair. “Well then, let’s go, let’s go, see starlight,” another plump woman with brown hair was elated who might had yelled at me. What are they talking about? I was going to go to La Paz tonight.
“Oh, that sounds good,” the small man said, putting his tripod in his backpack, and the young man agreed with them, too. Are they serious? I felt so restless.
“What do you think about that?” the plump woman with brown hair asked the newlyweds. I was worried that they would be talked into it, looking at them. The groom got closer to the bride and said, “Is that going to be a problem?” She flinched. She moved away from him a little, considering this for a moment and I studied her troubled face―she glanced at the others, especially the females, as though to care what they would think. “That’s okay,” she said, looking down.
“I have plan,” the plump woman with brown hair said loudly. I was outsider, but spoke out. “I’m sorry. I’m going to La Paz tonight … If the driver drove me alone to the station, no problem, but could leave you behind here.” I made myself heard them. There was no response―they had kept their face blunt.
They could not tolerate my refusal of the photos and it would have been perfectly controversial. To a loner, being among the Japanese who values harmony, not individual freedom, was encumbrance. “Of corse,”I should have said, because I could sense many eyes despised me.
The plump woman approached the driver. “I want to see it. I want to, please.” The driver was overwhelmed with her and said nothing. Then she went on, “Is there any good way? Since we’ve come all the way from Japan, we should stay far longer. Don’t you think?”she said in Japanese. He looked away from her and kept silence; the young man begun to translate her words into Spanish for him. “What did he say? What did he say?”she exited.
“Go back alone,” another plump woman said from where I could not see her. The bitch was behind the trunk of the jeep. On the other side of the jeep, there were the newlyweds alone. They stood close to each other with their backs on its windows and kept to themselves. I did not know what I was supposed to do anymore―it was impossible to slip out of the center of the lake.
Tired of looking at the conversation between the young man and the driver, the plump woman with brown hair started to talk with another plump woman, and the small man, despite being mature enough, pretended not to notice anything around him, groping in his backpack for something.
“Did your camera manage to take good photos?” the plump woman with brown hair asked him abruptly. He dug out his camera from his backpack and checked the photos in no time. “Yes, yes, of course. Good, very good,” he forced a smile, as if to humor her. Is he a moron? He was like her henchman.
Unlike the others, the young man turned up in front of me. “Can’t something be done?” he asked. I thought he was the closest to a decent person. “No, I have to go back. I reserved the ticket for La Paz already, That’s why I chose ’1day tour,’ ” I went on. “I’ve said nothing wrong, and the driver is here on business. He’ll have to go back to his office.”
There was an awkward moment, before him, being neither one nor the other. “Gals are still children. You should tolerate,” he said. Meanwhile, the plump woman with brown hair was looking at us. “Is this bastard still complaining?” she said, not looking at me and left. The way she had cursed me indirectly had been irritating me. If I could, I would have put her head into the salt.
The young man, wanting to fit in with the females, turned around and walked toward them. He started joking and laughing with them as if nothing happened; the plump woman with curly, black hair slapped his back. I sighed and got into the jeep.
*
In the jeep, the plump young women sulked for so long. They obviously took the lead, followed by the others, as if to be obedient to authority. No wonder that the plump women’s behavior―egotism, arrogance, and insensitivity―was justified.
On the other hand, I felt certain that the newlyweds had been standoffish. If I tried to talk to the groom, my effort would be painful. I knew well enough from past experience that if you were made outcast, nobody would talk to you, like you were not here.
I was not going to say―“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. For troubling you”―with such banal expression courtesy. If they thought I disturbed peace, that was okay. No matter how much they grumbled about me, I was right. I am used to being hated. Unlike these assholes, it is just that I have my own opinion.
“Why don’t we share photos with everyone?” a plump young woman said in a soft, coaxing voice, trying to strike a chord with the others. I was certain this kind of woman was in fragile mind―the last thing she wanted to do was that the others left her.
“Our hotel is close to yours. Which lobby do you think is better? Somewhere cozy,” a plump young woman said to the two men, both of whom seemed to hesitate for a second or two. Once they had gotten along with the plump young women, it was hard to ditch them, so I felt contempt and pity.
We drove through the darkness. The driver said, “You couple, almost there.” I turned in the front passenger seat. The newlyweds, making themselves agreeable, bade farewell to the others. “I’ll send you the photos later,” the plump woman with brown hair smiled, showing off how close she was with them.
“Thank you for taking photos for me.” I said to the groom, but being busy bowing to the others had enabled him to ignore me. After stepping down off the jeep, the newlyweds waved their hand toward the backseat.
There was silence behind me that indicated the tenuous relationship between the newlyweds and the others had ended, but not sadness prevailed, rather as though they had done their stint. They started to mutter: “I’m hungry,” “I’m sleepy,” “My makeup came off.” The topic of the newlyweds would no longer come up.
The driver brought the jeep to a halt in front of the bus for La Paz. I jumped out of it, to extricate myself from the Japanese, who only cared about themselves. I raised the trunk lid and snatched up my backpack. In the jeep, there were four forlorn figures and silence reigned once again. I stared at their backs, wanting to shout abuse at the “cowards.” Instead, I confined them in what they called harmony, which allowed them to do so at me, and walked off toward the bus.
When I boarded the bus, the foreigner crowded the aisle. I made my way through passengers and sinked into my seat near the rear. I was too tired to think about anything.
“It was good? Uyuni,” asked the blonde white woman next to me a few minute later. “Yes, yes, of corse,” I said, repeating a phrase I had heard the small man use on the plump woman with brown hair. “You doesn’t look like that.” Startled, I saw the slender woman turning to me; she appeared more appealing than when I had met her.
