Life is not always what you think it is!

We arrived February 19th, leaving several feet of snow, wind and more to come. We hit the street, headed toward Casablanca at 1 pm, now wearing shorts and sandals. The vendors laughed and smiled, “Almost free!” “Now, it’s my turn!” Lucio caught my eye with his henna-stained tattoos. “Later, later,” I whined. “It’s time for my first Margarita.” With the promise that I would have my tattoo re-colored before I left, I climbed on a chair to receive my India lace ankle tattoo.
A half an hour later I met Dan (my husband) at Casablanca, receiving a heart-warming and unanimous arms-outreached, ready for hugs. Billy takes my hand as if a fragile gift, giving me the-ladies-kiss-of-respect. Respect yes! Latino dark, soulful eyes, of course! Inquiring about Rudy, I ran upstairs for a robust hug. Dan had already received his greeting of, “Mister Long-hair is here!”
While sitting at the people-watching table on the plaza, Earl and Kennetta walked by. Dan met our fellow travelers upon entering the hotel. Earl commented on Dan’s “Harley” T-shirt. Friends were made, bonds to be developed. Demonstrating my usual over-caffeinated cheerleader behavior, Earl and Kennetta joined us for people-watching and camaraderie. I explained that Dan and I were to meet “Bulletin Board” friends at the Money Bar the next evening for sunset and a band. Would they like to share a taxi? And so it begins…
The sun had disappeared below the jostled waves of the Caribbean. Jostled, yes? For it is winter on our favorite Mayan Island of the Swallows. The warmth of the air gives you the freedom to hold hands and apply slow-motion to your pace, again smiling at the venders now at lamp light. Dan and I entered the modest garden of the off-track Mexican restaurant. White, sparkle lights lit the green and white, checkered table clothes amongst the dripping flora and fauna. At $17.95 each, we savored lobster to dye for, leaving more for tomorrow mornings omelets. Here, not to be under rated, rice, summer squash and onions cooked to the perfect fluff and texture. This satisfies a “foodies” desire to taste the food not an over-whelming spice or sauce.
The view from our 4th floor balcony demonstrates the height of the waves splashing over the white stucco barriers. A bottle of wine, the promise of “Yhamus” completes the morning to the evening of the first day.
Foreigner does not have to be a splinter stabbed between your finger and your nail. Travel is an adventure. It is a time when everyone around you is apart of your experience. Sonrisa is a smile which is given; the result is the return of a smile given with respect.

Those Times of the Day…

12/27/2009
There are times when the moment comes to you. You are wrapped in cocoon of thoughts. At times I write my thoughts down. Have you ever read things that you wrote, yesterday or years ago? Who is that person? Aren’t they amazing? Aren’t they silly? Aren’t profound?
Why do we have these times, if we are lucky? “Take time to smell the roses.” That’s the time I’m talking about. Can you be there? How do you create these moments; or do they, only, create themselves?
I think I’ve had these times all of my life, even on my worst days. But, there is no time to stop. You store the information for future reference or it is lost forever. Perhaps, you never take the time to retrieve those moments. Perhaps, you are too afraid to retrieve them.
My life has found those moments. I can’t believe I am so lucky. My entire life has been focused on survival. Focused on doing what I have to do to get through the day, to get my loved ones through the day. I am at peace. I feel safe.
I remember sitting in “the magic swing” (I’ll tell you what that is some day.) saying, “I have never felt so safe in my life.” It was a stunning revelation. I had been afraid all of my life. I was afraid that if I made one more mistake, the world would come crashing in on me. I remember saying one time, “It couldn’t get any worse.” Then, it did!
No, this is not about sadness. My students (I’ll tell you about them sometime.) would say when I was “making light,” “What do we have to laugh about?” I would say, “There is plenty of time for sadness when you go to “lock-down”; sometimes, we need time to be ourselves.” …the person we were intended to be (thoughts for the future).
This was one of those times when writing and thinking takes on a life of its own. You rarely take time for your heart to speak.
This seems to be the end of my thoughts. I leave you much to reflect upon.