“For the next six months, no walking!” the doctor warned my friend Robert (not his real name), a well known architect in Manhattan. To say that my friend was thunderstruck by the news is an understatement. Not to be able to walk for six months meant altering his normally heavy work schedule in Manhattan, plus canceling travel plans abroad scheduled for the next few months. For a man devoted to his students and a key participant in professional meetings overseas the blow was incalculable.

Although he is no longer that young, Robert keeps in extremely good physical shape. On weekends he plays soccer with neighborhood friends. During one game, he suddenly felt intense pain after making a rough movement and had to be taken home in his friends’ arms.

He had broken his Achilles tendon, and for it to recover, he required total rest. In addition, the doctor prescribed sessions with a physiotherapist several times a week.
Even with the rehabilitation process in full swing, he remained dependent for the most basic chores at home. He was barely able to move around nor cook for himself. A group of old friends met and decided to visit him regularly to supply him some home-made food, something that he would probably miss during the prolonged stay at home.

One day, anticipating that he would be by himself, I decided to visit him in the evening, and bring him a dish that I knew he liked: spinach with tahine (sesame seeds) sauce, an Arab dish that my mother had taught me how to prepare and whose recipe I am usually quite selfish to share.

When I arrived at Robert’s apartment, I knocked on the door and was surprised not to have any response. I knocked again and since there was no answer nor any noises emanating form inside -slightly worried- I decided to go in, concerned that something may have happened to him.

As soon as I entered, however, I was relieved. On a couch in the living room was Robert joined in a passionate embrace with a young, attractive woman, his leg with a cast dangling precariously in the air.

Surprised as he was at this unexpected visit he eminently gracious and welcomed me in. I, however, felt as out-of-place as a fishmonger in the Sahara. I said hello to his companion, had a brief conversation with them and, after leaving my spinach dish in the kitchen, was ready to exit. Robert wouldn’t hear of it so heeding his insistent request I stayed for dinner determined to leave as soon as we finished eating. While waiting for them to finish preparing dinner, I could hear their romantic exchanges...

Although it was an awkward moment, we managed to have a rather pleasant dinner with abundant good wine. Aside from the spinach dish, my friend (or the woman visiting him) had prepared some very good appetizers followed by Chilean sea bass with vegetables and a terrific dessert with ice cream, chocolate truffles, and Grand Marnier. From Robert’s Soho apartment, we had a stunning view of downtown Manhattan.

Since I assumed they both wanted to continue their unfinished business, I told them that I had to prepare some classes and left my friend’s apartment. Finally! they probably thought, eager to make up for lost time. I was happy to see my friend in good company but frustrated about what had happened. As soon as I was leaving Robert’s apartment, however, I found myself face-to-face with another mutual friend, a big smile on his face. Over his arm was a bag containing a bottle and several containers of ice cream…

Dr. Cesar Chelala is a writer on human rights and foreign policy issues.