Wednesday evening: I’m sitting in my aunt’s incredibly comfortable couch and suddenly I remember the last time. Three years ago, she prepared me a bath, poured me full of black currant and grapefruit drinks and fed me her special mashed potatoes. She gave me a cashmere scarf, the big, warm, not fancy kind, and told me stories of when she hitchhiked through South America in her twenties. During the following half year, I used the scarf almost daily, from Lima to Sucre and it kept me warm through the long, raw Andean bus rides.
Now, my hair is wet and I’m drinking a black currant and raspberry drink while my aunt is finishing the mashed potatoes and marinated tofu in the kitchen. I really am leaving. Soon.
Katja Malmborg 