eric... lyon... antibiotics

my brother eric was born in Lyon, France, when i was 2 years old. from the very beginning he was the most american of the 3 brothers, maybe it was the freckles... i put together this slideshow opening with a picture of eric in france. the other pix eric took earlier this month upon returning to Lyon, the city where we both learned how to ride bikes... the city where it all began:

Lyon is the 2nd largest french city after Paris. it might not be the fashion capital & is a lot less flashy, but just as cosmopolitan, much sunnier & known as the capital of french gastronomy. many top chefs in Paris & around the world hail from Lyon. the city has some of the best restaurants in the world.
the Rhône streams across the city before providing the backdrop to the famous wine country known as Côte du Rhône that reaches the French Riviera a 3 hour drive down south. a 2 hour drive east takes you up the French Alpes. i remember in the winter we'd escape the rain for the snow, at the chalet that belonged to the Guerlains (the family who own the Guerlain perfumes). my mom had somehow become their friend & we'd go up there and spend the winter days building snowball towers. we'd make candle holders out of the snowballs assembled in pyramid towers, and light up the candles at night for eric & me, my mom, and her friends to enjoy while having evening picnics in the snow, or simply from the warmth of the chalet. i miss the snow...
i don't ever remember dads or men being around. i remember maya, my mom's finnish friend whose french husband had died. she was a young gorgeous widow who lived on our street & was figuring out how to take care of her family alone. there was françoise, the aristocratic wife of a big shot lawyer & her daughter jennifer who was my best friend back then. we were practically sisters haha. i remember when françoise had a car accident, and one of her sons flew through the windshield & died. jennifer was in the hospital for a long time & i would go visit her often. we were only 4 or 5 i think. we went to the same school together, our mothers holding our hands every morning & afternoon, on our way & back from school on rue de créqui. we lived close by each other in les Brotteaux, the "upper east side" of Lyon, and would play for hours in the "parc de la tête d'or." this park had dears in it -we called them bambis- and other animals, almost like a zoo. years later, soon after jonathan's birth (my youngest brother), we moved up to brussels. saying goodbye to jennifer was the first time i think i experienced overwhelming sadness, anxiety, and fear of loss. we wrote each other many letters & would be reunited over the summers in provence where they owned a countryside farm type thing we would go to once in a while. or on the french riviera. my mom, bothers & i would stay in a fancy gated community where my mom's best friend from brussels (and from the congo where they grew up together) owned a villa overlooking the mediterranean. jennifer's villa was right on the beach, but not a sandy one; it was all cobbles or whatever u call it. i always found it so bizarre, a beach with no sand. it would hurt sometimes but it was exciting, and there were no big waves, so it was nice for swimming. and there was emanuela, the wife of the italian consul; her daughters were older though. i can't remember their names. their birthday parties were girlie & fancy in a very old money kinda way. they intimidated me a bit, all i remember is that there was always tons of treats at the italians... as for my dad, he was somewhere in africa, business as usual...
so in my previous post i mention how eric is off to afghanistan. it seems so surreal... well here's his email announcement about it today:
I have been sentenced yesterday (Monday) to 365 days of forced labor in Afghanistan, courtesy of the US Navy. My sentence starts November 19th, I'll be flying out to San Diego (or what'll be left of it) for
in-processing, spend my time from November until February in Kansas for some GI Joe training (with some time off for good behavior during the holiday period) then go to Kuwait around 28 February to be sent to everybody's dream destination, Afghanistan. I won't be eligible for parole before I have spent 200 days in-country, that'll give me plenty of time to take some pictures, and you'll just have to wait a little to see them, probably no earlier than Nov 2008.
A submariner in a land-locked country, makes about as much sense as having a texan in the White House!
urgh, i still can't believe my own over educated super smart brother is going to be in afghanistan with a bunch of morons. i know i know, even morons don't deserve to go to war, but fuck, it seems so absurd they would resort to sending folks like my brother as well...
back to me, i have some sorta sinus & throat infection, and some skin rashes on my fucking face. of all places! i feel like a 12yo with acne & low self-esteem, which was never me... at least not in appearance. i faked it good. maybe it's karma, for ignoring the pizza faces back in the day. i don't remember ever making fun of them though... anyhew, i'm taking the antibiotics, cleaning my rashes & applying the cremes, and i'm praying to the greek gods that everything clears up before i land in washington d.c. on thursday. if i can find someone to keep chicho for longer, since i don't want my neighbor to have to take care of her for more than i asked, then i'll stay longer than scheduled on the east coast to spend more time with eric, maybe go to nyc, who knows...