Department of Lost & Found
To Saipan, From Saipan
Nature Provides, and Sometimes Borrows
I was given something important. Then I lost it. Improbably, I found it again, as if it had been returned to me. I don’t know if I believe in fate or chaos now — fate doesn’t square with my degree in physics — but I do believe in the dreamlike waters of Saipan.
When I was at university, I became friends with a tall, blonde, ebullient woman from Turkey. After one school break, she returned to campus sporting a necklace, eye-catching against her tan skin, made from short, flat, polished lengths of silver, each twisted lengthwise, then connected by thin silver ties into a chain. She could tell that I really liked it.
The next year, upon return from her summer holiday, she brought me something: the same basic necklace as hers, but with a more masculine look. The pieces were heavier, made of raw, distressed silver. I didn’t know how to thank her. She minimized the gesture, saying that this particular style was common in Turkey. At the time, my passport included only Spain so I took her word for it.
As I wore it, the textured parts tarnished as the edges shined from contact with my skin. I wore it the autumn after graduation on a solo cycling trip through Europe. The necklace always felt familiar, and…
