The Great Ski-Lift. Anton Soliman
isolated groups of skiers moving down to a smaller valley. Maybe slopes holding other less crowded tracks. He couldn't forget that entering the Great Ski-Lift illegally would require blending in with the surrounding environment. With the skis on his shoulders, he reached the valley's bottom where an unattended ski-lift was running. A flash of the pass should be enough to start practicing on the beginner's tracks, without fear of being discovered.
He spent the whole day going up and down the same track. No one paid the slightest attention to him, the security was far from professional and the staff stood around chatting with each other. It had been a very long day of skiing. He had tried to remember the key moves but remembering little or nothing made it difficult. Anyone who saw him, panting and snow-covered pants, would surely assume Oskar Zerbi was a beginner. During that first day he thought it pointless to stay in the Great Ski-Lift several times. It did not make any sense. He wondered the real reason behind his adventurous foray in this strange vacation. Maybe he wanted to find himself by skiing? An apparently incomprehensible thought.
Oskar watched the other skiers carefully, hoping to copy their style and perhaps glean something essential unknown to him. During the last descent he watched an expert skier moving with flawless style, and tried to imitate him. However, he failed to even emulate one slalom in the skier's style. A small hope had formed though, by remaining for a few days he could make significant progress.
Back at the hotel, he dined in his room merely to avoid having to keep the lady-who-wanted-to talk company. Before falling asleep he mulled over his efforts still falling below -standard- and what chance they would generate change. Nevertheless, once he learnt to ski again, the fun would properly start.
He was no longer thinking about the City. There was nothing for him back there.
Christmas Eve
He spent a few days practicing alone, always on the same ski run. Every little slope and variation in the pitch was now firmly engraved in his mind. He knew the exact points where extra care was needed to descend without mistakes, at least on the track. Several days had passed pleasantly skiing around the Great Ski-Lift without complications. This seemed important to him. At noon he stopped at a kiosk at the ski-lift base.
He sat so the sun shone on his back because the light was intense enough to blind. He looked towards the village with an empty mind. During the intense days of exercise his mind cleared. He ran through the track in his mind so that it would be smoother each time.
He chose an isolated table, a few feet away a young couple immersed in conversation. The two little kids playing on their own must be theirs. Suddenly he realized the man had noticed him. There were no other tourists around and he felt a twinge of fear. He had not completely forgotten that he was in the Circuit illegally, the feeling of being watched caused a shiver of dread. This strange vacation had started unconventionally and now he needed to normalize it. For example, he could return to the City, his work, and family. Common sense considerations gave way to a rising feeling of emptiness, sure proof that in the reality of things the intertwining of events was more complicated. The man rose from the table and smiled in welcome.
- Excuse me sir, my wife and I feel that no one should be eating alone in a corner in such a remote and out-of-the-way venue.
The man seemed the sociable kind... almost definitely a tourist who had nothing to do with the Great Ski-Lift system.
- Let me introduce myself. My name is Robert Massoni, I'm here with my family for Christmas. We own a chalet behind the village and come here every year.
Oskar introduced himself in turn, responding with a wave to Mrs Massoni's smile.
After breaking the ice, the man, who looked a few years younger than Oskar, invited him to the table where his wife had already prepared a cup of hot coffee and a slice of cake.
- Help yourself, Mr Zerbi! Get stuck in, - said Robert warmly.
Oskar looked at the family's kind faces: they had a gentle appearance. Since arriving on the Sierra mountains, he was finally meeting some pleasant people. This was a very important thing for him.
- Are you on vacation for Christmas? Your first time here, Mr Zerbi? - asked Mrs Massoni amiably.
- Yes, a few days now, just getting to know these places. Besides, I've not been in the mountains for years.
- Are you travelling alone? she asked.
- Yes â Oskar reflected a moment and added â I needed absolute rest.
- I assume your job is very demanding, Mr Zerbi! - said Robert.
- I'm an engineer. But who knows? Maybe when I head home again I'll change job â he said smiling.
- What a coincidence! I'm an engineer too. See how many engineers we meet Bea? - Massoni turned to his wife laughing.
They chatted inconsequentially for a while but it started getting cold, so Oskar suggested: - Robert, why not all go skiing? Anyway, no need to be some formal between colleagues.
After the lonely days on the slopes he relished the warm family glow, he was happy to be talking with his peers.
They climbed into the chairlift. During the ride, he wondered why Robert had noticed him. The green card around his neck for permanent membership was undoubtedly a very rare symbol, distinguishing him from the other occasional skiers.
Being seen with a green card seemed to open doors, and solved the rigmarole of introductions. His current position in fact meant saying as little as possible on his account, and asking his new friends questions instead. Shielded symbolically by the Great Ski-lift pass, he was able to relax and quietly observe the others´ behaviour.
-What is self-representation? - Oskar mused, -maybe a form of consistency to imbue a certain order to a person? - He thought of a dinghy that needed inflating to float, something similar to blood pressure.
He knew the track off by heart and managed to make a good impression. Robert and his wife praised his style, in turn, they skied confidently. Obviously, most people did not hold skiing as important. Oskar was flattered by the compliments and for a moment thought he'd reached a high standard. The next descent saw him even go off-piste on the fresh snow, seeing if he could handle a different slope. In those abnormal conditions, set loose from his imposed automatism he struggled instantly. It was as though starting to ski again, the lack of true knowledge apparent, that flexible ability to adapt to every circumstance. It was about understanding a Rule in all its facets, while he was limited to knowing a single definition.
- What a beautiful day! A pleasure meeting you at the lodge â said Robert on finishing the last ski-track. The sun was already setting, and the staff was about to close the chairlift.
- Why not come for dinner at our house? We can take you back to the hotel afterwards.
- I gladly accept - said Oskar.
Engineer Massoni owned a typical chalet, which had been tastefully refurbished The tiled fireplace was set in the centre of the living room. Oskar remembered seeing such a layout in the Tibetan valleys.
- What a beautiful fireplace, very impressive! - he exclaimed on entering the house.
He sat beside the fire as the family stepped into the kitchen.
Oskar watched the flame dancing over the wood: it changed shape continuously, full of irregularities, and yet perfectly harmonious.
They had left him alone, the house seemed deserted. After all, he was a visitor who'd stopped to rest. The journey started in Valle Chiara, the remote Sierra village, was still continuing without a specific destination He could not remember when this holiday actually started, probably it had been traumatic, a scary event that needed to be buried in his insight to avoid any unnecessary suffering.
The invitation offered by the Massoni family was based on a fleeting, superficial encounter. Mainly by virtue of the great Ski-Lift multi-year pass, a seemingly important badge of honour. Moreover, Oskar felt it unlikely that the setting, an interesting turn of phrase or a change in his persona