natives who already lived there, but, as previously mentioned, that was in the days when people who came from countries like Hector’s tended to think that everything belonged to them.)
Djamila was going to visit her sister who had married a citizen of that country. She was going to stay with them for a while.
Hector explained that he was going there to meet a professor who was a specialist in Happiness Studies. He immediately regretted saying this, because he told himself that happiness probably wasn’t a very good subject to discuss with Djamila.
But she smiled at him, and explained that, for her, happiness was knowing that her country was going to be a better place, that her little brothers weren’t going to grow up to be killed in the war, and that her sister had a kind husband and children who could go to school, go on holiday and grow up to be doctors or lawyers or forest rangers or painters or whatever they wished.
Hector noticed that she didn’t speak of her own happiness, but that of others, of the people she loved.
And then Djamila said that her head had started hurting a bit more. Hector called the air hostess and told her that he wanted to speak to the captain. (You can do that if you’re a doctor.) After a while, the captain arrived in his fine uniform with his equally fine moustache. (Don’t worry, another pilot was in the cockpit flying the plane.) Hector explained the situation to him and the captain asked if it would help if he made the plane fly a little lower.
Hector said that they could always try. This is something that both pilots and doctors know: if something is causing pressure in your body, being high up, like at the top of a mountain or in an aeroplane, increases the pressure because the air around you has less pressure, even though the plane is pressurised. And so the captain rushed off to make the plane descend.
Djamila told Hector that she felt he was going to too much trouble, really, and he said that he wasn’t and that he liked talking to the captain and making the plane descend, and that next time he might even ask him to do a loop the loop to make Djamila’s headache better. This made her laugh and again he saw the Djamila in the passport photograph.
Then he asked the air hostess for some champagne, because it couldn’t do Djamila any harm.
They clinked glasses, and Djamila told him that this was the first time she’d drunk champagne, because in her country it had been banned for a long time, and all you could find was cheap vodka left behind by the defeated soldiers. She tasted the champagne, and said it was wonderful, and Hector said he couldn’t have agreed more.
Hector recalled the last lesson, Happiness is knowing how to celebrate, and he wanted Djamila to benefit from it.
After they had talked a little longer, her headache was better, and then she fell peacefully asleep.
The passengers around them were concerned. They could see through the windows that the plane was flying lower. And so the air hostesses explained why, and the passengers looked at Hector and Djamila and felt reassured.
Hector was thinking as he sat next to Djamila who was asleep.
Djamila must think about death often. He had thought about it for less than an hour in his storeroom. But for her, it was as if she’d been living in that storeroom for months. And yet she continued to smile.
And she had told him that she was pleased that her country and her family had a better chance of being happy.
He picked up his little notebook and wrote:
Lesson no. 17: Happiness is caring about the happiness of those you love.
HECTOR HAS A DREAM
T HE pilot with the fine moustache landed the plane very well, without a bump, and everybody clapped, perhaps because they’d felt a little worried when the plane wasn’t flying very high. And so a smooth landing made them happy, when normally it didn’t have much effect on them.
Another case of comparison, Hector told himself.
As the passengers left the
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