“THE WAR TAKES IT ALL
AWAY FROM ME... OVER AND OVER” By Marvin Alvarado Agüero
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An interview with Claire O’Sullivan, the face of the sadly smile
H
ello, good afternoon... You must be Mrs. Clara Sullivan, is not it? I’m Marvin Alvarado, the first level student of the English language who called you a couple of days ago, asking for a small interview for the English course I am taking. Do you remember me? - Of course yes, Marvin, good afternoon, I’m glad to meet you... But my correct name is Claire, not Clara, and my surname is O’Sullivan. I’m a retired american citizen, however, I was born in France in a place called Lille, near the border with Belgium, in 1938. This last january I celebrated 80 years of life and 10 years to live in Costa Rica - Oh, excuse me, my english is still very poor and my understanding is even worse... - My mother’s name was Raphaëlle Adèle Bouvier, she decided to call me Claire because she visualized a brilliant and clean life for me. My father’s name was Jacques Bouvier, then my mother adopted my father’s surname when they got married. It was like that then, I was born with the name of Claire Raphaëlle Bouvier. - The issue of names and surnames in other cultures is a little complicated for us, in our country when people get married they keep their paternal and maternal surnames, always. I guess that’s why your surname is O’Sullivan? - That’s right, my husband’s last name was O’Sullivan, Gilberth O’Sullivan, He died in the summer of 1969, I could choose to return to my maiden
The World War II, was one of the saddest episodes of humanity on the new century
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name, however I decided to keep it in honor of my husband and my son. - You have a son, what’s his name? - His name was Jack, he is died too, I called him that in honor of his grandfather Jacques.
Claire, Claire, it’s supposed to mean brilliant and clean long life
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- Your son died too! That’s unexpectedly sad, I’m sorry to hear that... really. - Marvin, I told him that my mother Raphaëlle, had planned for me a brilliant and clean life, however, nothing could be further from the truth... Can you believe it? - I’d like to know why, do you want to tell me? - It was in 1939, a year after my birth, when the Germans decided invade Poland, Belgium and the other western countries of Europe, and start one of the saddest episodes of humanity of the new century: World War II. My father was very young, only 22 years old, he was along with many other younger people were sent to protect the border with Belgium, while the germans army destroyed the resistance of neighboring countries. - The Germans had one of the most powerful armies in the world that time. - Yes, that was unfortunately... a short time later, the Germans had
destroyed most of the defense of the army in which my father I was fighting. That’s when my mother fled with me in her arms, along with a large number of people who left their homes to save their lives - Your father, could not survive this invasion? - No, he died on the battlefield, my mother knew it from the surviving soldiers who escaped alive. - How did they get to the American continent? - My mother told me that after knowing about my father’s death, she We decided to change the fate of our escape, and instead of going to Paris, She changed her mind and decided to go north, to the port of Calais, the largest port in France in terms of passenger traffic and the safest in that moment. - Escape from France to the United States? - No, it wasn’t like that ... my mother told me not to speak english and that the french language was one of the official languages of Canada, which weighed in the decision to disembark in the Port of Halifax, Nova Scotia ... for me Mother and for me, it meant a new world, a new life, a new opportunity. - How long did you live in Canada? - Until 1963, on November 15, 1963, I remember that date as if it were today,
...my mother fled with me in her arms
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was the day my son Jack was born. I had married the previous year with Gilberth, a young american military man I had met at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia.
The life of my mother and my own have always been marked by wars
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My husband and I had decided that our son should be born in the United States, because in our plans he was finally transferred to that country, so that Jack would study at the Military Academy of West Point, as had his father Gilberth and Gilberth’s father, John Albert O‘Sullivan too. - A whole family tradition, the military career? - It is a career that opens many doors to work with the federal government of the United States, however, you can not always count on the precise factors to meet the objectives. - I understand, it’s a very high price to pay? - The life of my mother and my own have always been marked by wars, it’s an irony, but that’s the way it is. The happiness that life has given us, the war insists on stolen it always. The war takes it all away from me... over and over. - I understand, it’s a cruel truth.
- My father died in the battle front, fighting a war that France never asked for. My husband, Sergeant Gilberth O’Sullivan, died in Vietnam fighting a war that was not from the United States, and my little Jack died for the oil of a country that nobody remembers anymore. - For 10 years you have lived in our country. Why Costa Rica? What motivated you to living here? - You, the Costa Ricans do not measure, perhaps because you have never suffered, what it means to live in peace, to know that your children will never have to give their lives on the battlefield. Many of my canadian and american colleagues and friends have been flocking to Costa Rica for more than 30 years, attracted by the tropical climate, low cost of living, first class affordable health care, real estate offer and natural beauty, yes to all this we add the plus of being a peaceful town, the offer is irresistible. I love living in Costa Rica. You know, I can take off my shoes on the white sand beaches on the morning, walk through the lush jungle of the lowlands any day, or the mountain cloud forests, and enjoy volcanic hot springs at the afternoon. A nostalgic smile paint of melancholy and sadness her face, that is the last memory I have of Claire RaphaÍlle Bouvier. I said goodbye to her, while trying to find in her eyes the brightness of a happy reminiscence to dress my interview at least with a small and sweet detail, but I suppose his memories are the tomb of a happiness stolen by the bloody fire of a painful nightmare.
...my little Jack died for the oil of a country that nobody remembers anymore.
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