In Love with Life…

      I used to think that this kind of thing only happened in movie, or at least, it happened to other people but me. Yep, until those two fateful nights in the livingroom where I spent the last six days.

      I was — once again — blessed with the opportunity to travel to the other side of the world. This time, it was Switzerland. But, as in the case of many other student-arranged travels, I was unable to choose my own accommodation. Instead of  staying in a hotel, I was assigned as a guest to a female Swiss student who shared her apartment with three other guys. It was arranged previously that I would spend the nights in their livingroom with another student guest. The good news was, the livingroom was spacious enough to accommodate both of us. The bad news was, the other guest — my room mate — was a man. An American, to be precise. We spent the first night arranging the matresses so that we did not need to see each other while sleeping, which was quite easy. I slept behind the sofa, and he on the other side. The first four nights went unnoticed since we both rarely saw each other after the busy days. Then, the story began.

      My fifth night in Switzerland. It was early in the morning. I had a strange dream. Eyes fluttering, I thought I was in a movie scene. People were screaming in excitement. A woman was giggling. A man was moaning. My first guess was about the ‘what’. I thought I was dreaming of watching a hardcore film. But the sound effect was so real. In fact, it was too real. And the giggle and the moan too. I reached for my alarm clock, which was not yet ringing. 5 a.m. Yeah, and those noise was not only in my head. There were two people attempting to release their hormon. My first guess missed. I was not dreaming of a hardcore film. I was in a live show. It was shocking, embarassing, and disturbing — I couldn’t go back to sleep (who could, anyway?), and could not get up either for I did not wish to see two people in their most intimate moment. My second guess went with the ‘who’. I had no doubt that the man was the American, but no idea about the woman.  I worried that the woman was my host — I did not want her to know that I knew what she knew I knew… well, sort of Asian way of saving someone else’s ass, I think. So I stucked Ipod’s earphones in my ears, hoping that the music would camouflage all the moaning and screaming and other sounds I was not supposed to hear. That worked for several minutes, before mother nature had an urgent call for me. And she really meant it, urgent. I had to answer, of course…

      There, I stood, almost running to the bathroom, trying not to look at what happen on the other side of the room. When I came back — this time my entrance faced them straightforwardly — there was the evidence of what I heard. A half naked white (and stupid, I assume) man from his belly down, and a woman wrapped in blanket; their pale feet poking out from the blanket in an awkward position. All I could think was leaving the room a.s.a.p, and that meant taking a shower at this very early morning. Let come what might come. Cough or cold or whatever, I just had to find my way out of this room. I was relieved to know that my host was waiting in front of the bathroom’s door when I finished — for it meant that it was not her who did the ‘performance’ in the living room. The couple were still there when I came back to pack my bag — a too early packing, actually — and the woman wake up and exclaimed in surprise, "My God, there’s someone here!" to which the man answered calmly, "It’s OK…" That confirmed my assumption that the man was stupid indeed, and the woman surely was no different with him as far as intelligence mattered.

      And that is not the end of the story. The following night, the same people came back to do exactly the same thing — also in the living room where I stay. They learnt that I woke up rather early, so this time they came in the middle of the night — which obviously made no difference since their noise would surely awaken anyone within one-meter radius (still stupid, eh?). Well… I was never an opponent to free sex or whatsoever (though I have no wish to be committed in one), but being in the same room with two people doing their most private business — twice — was more than I could chew. So I stood and said to them to find a private place to do whatever they were doing.

       Whoever said that sex is a love expression should think that the same sex can also disgust someone else. Whoever said that free sex is a western culture that should be tolerated by today’s moral standard must know that the same western culture should also tolerate other cultures with different point of views. By not being an opponent to free sex, and not making bad comments on those who believe it as merely love expression, I think I have done my part in this world of tolerance. But there is a limit to everything. I don’t care if it is an American, European, Australian, African, or even my fellow Asian, but making love in someone else’s presence (against his/her will, of course) proves nothing but the lack of cultural tolerance and — of course — human intelligence. I think I will always repeat the same request when unwillfully witnessing the living room sex situation. But, of course, I hope there will never be next time.

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