posts with tag: monsoon
monsoon hotel room window

© rb

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“Waterline”    Fieldrecording     01:00     sounds best with headphones

 

From my monsoon-notebooks (2 of 3)

Daytime humidity almost 90 percent.
Sudden heavy downpours.

A hotel room.
No 125, sea view. –

Down at the waterline the hotel owns a little beach and there is always a gentle wind blowing. I stood there yesterday, cooling my head down and watching the sea, when the towel-guy came. He’s in charge of giving out the bath towels to the people at the pool.

He came and stood beside me and said “hi”, and I said “hi” to him and now we both were watching the sea.
“Very nice this”, he said. “Yes”, said I.

It was the first time we talked together. I imagined next he would be saying something like: “where you come from?”, and I would say “Germany”, and he, “Ah, Germany, nice country”.

In reality but we were standing there watching the sea, not saying anything, he holding his pile of towels in his arm, and I holding my umbrella that I use here against sun.

“You know”, he suddenly starts to talk, shifting the pile of towels to his one arm. “There”, he says, “straight ahead is Europe.” Then he points to the right, we both move our head, and he says, „there is Arab Emirates, and on the left …”, we both move our head, “… there is nothing, for a long time, just nothing, as far as Antarctica.”

 

© rb

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“Monsoon”    Soundscape     05:14     sounds best with headphones

 

From my Monsoon-Notebooks (3 of 3)

Daytime humidity almost 90 percent.
Sudden heavy downpours.

A hotel room.
No 125, sea view. –

Here I live for over a month now and I like it quite a bit.
It is 4 p.m. I look out of the window.
I just came back from the humid streets and the cascade-like noises, that I like actually, although this hotel room is my refuge.

I have switched off the air conditioner. It booms in my ears and I can’t hear anything else, that makes me nervous. The air in the room now is sticky and warm and bad to breathe in.

 

One day,
may be, I’ll recall these moments as I stay here at the window and I’ll think,
yes, that’s where I was, and it was one of the best times of my life.
No! Stop. I’m not there yet.
I am here.
Now! I am here for a start, in this hotel room.
No 125, sea view.

A film of moisture has formed on the wooden furniture, on the side board and the cabinet door. And the floorboards have misted up too, so has the nice old English style writing desk. I write with my finger on the desktop the word ‘Monsoon’.

Then again I look out of the window.
I see the clouds as they become one with the sea.
I think a sentence.
I think:
It’s raining.