HIGHLIGHTS FROM A JOURNEY... for lovers and dreamers and me.

      

                    HIGHLIGHTS FROM A JOURNEY         From Memoir, A Dot In Time

                                                        

                                                                                                                         

                                                  for lovers and dreamers and me.

                                                                   

                                              
                                                                                        

                           

                

  First Day:  Sunday,  Bon Voyage!    ( mini-dot)

         A day of leaving worries aside. Bags packed, house in order. Then, embarkation smooth, with colorful people … straw hats, shorts and tank tops, flowery dresses and luggage led by multiple toes, in myriads of colors, pink, red, purple, French style. Thongs and sandals moving to the happy beat of welcoming adventures.  Inside the ship people buzz, searching for cabin numbers, food, drinks, family members. We stop at our cabin, depositing our carryon and examining our home for the next seven days. My spirits dance with anticipation. I glance toward the back where the curtains are open. A balcony. I know where I’ll be spending a great deal of time!  

                                                                                                           

                                                                     

  Second Day:  Monday,  At Sea       ( mini-dot)

           A day at sea. My nerves, still tight like a clock about to break. My mind reels with the duties of care giving for my mother and I’m still sectioning pills in a dispenser in my head. Time to unwind and breathe in rest. Still in a trance, I snake through the $10 Ship’s sale. Not much there. My husband and I eat lunch among the crowd in the serve yourself dining area. A baby cries, a handicapped lady in a wheel chair speaks to the air. Bathing suits and cover ups run around with different size people in them. Hands on missions carry volcanoes of foods in islands of plates. I hear the ticking of the writer in me, watching, soaking in the essence.  Oh, yeah … bring it on!

                                                                  

   Third Day:  Tuesday,  Cozumel      ( mini-dot)

               My feet roll now off  the gangway.  A full day of rest paid most of the bill I owed to exhaustion. My steps have spice now like the life in their chillies. I hear Mexico rapidly calling with its charm. Mariachis with guitars sing us into the pier’s shopping area but we soon find the side of Mexico we don’t like. Vendors and shopkeepers chase me with a knat-like drive.

                “Seňora, pase. Enter. It’s free to look.”

                I enter a store and hear Spanish, the instructions of a seller to another clerk.

                “Don’t give in. These Americans can afford it. Look at them  … ahem.”

                I zoom out of there like there’s fire on my fondi. That’s our family’s slang for the Spanish fondillo, which means booty or seat. They have nothing I need.  I have caught a side of humanity I didn’t want to see.

                Tired of saying “No, gracias,” to vendors and my flesh sizzling in Cozumel heat I find a restaurant, Tres Amigos. I plunk my body down and wipe off sweat. My husband comes with computer in hand.

                “Hey, free Wi-fi!”

                She tends to us. Her eyes canopied by thick, dark eyebrows and  bright orange lipstick glows on her lips ... lips that appear so easily to slide and curve into welcomes.  Short, young, with the flare of Mayan that God breathed upon her face, she wipes our table with light movements like flutters. A Mexican butterfly!

                “I’ll help Senora. If you can’t connect. Salsa on the way.”  She speaks English well and mi casa es su casa, she communicates. “Si, gracias.” I say. The music pounds and the open restaurant fills with college age youth.  Some get a bit wild. Girls on bar counters dance. Crazy.  I easily connect with the internet and in the background people sing, dance and laugh. In our mouths … the best homemade salsa I ever tasted. Tomatoes, onions, green peppers and red, all freshly chopped. Heavens!  The pretty Mexican comes back to check my progress. She smiles again.

                 “Que bueno, Seňora. okay?”    

                 “Sí.” I take in her smile. A soothing balm.

                 But too soon, faster than I want, we pay our bill and have to go. The ship will leave port. I see her. She waits on someone else and when she turns, catches my eye. Something moves me to her side. She opens her arms and so do I. The embrace so natural. Loving. A cultural thing?   More than just the salsa fills me. I move to weave myself through crowds of tourists coming in. I think of the many people I’ve encountered in places. People that shine within the beauty of the land where they live. And once again I leave a stranger behind that in a dot in time I’ve connected with.  A gift  that can’t be bought … for me the best type of souvenir at Tres Amigos, Three Friends. I walk to the ship in a pensive way.  I’ve been gifted with a side of humanity today I thought I wouldn’t get. I savor the magic of the moments passed. An appointment arranged?  A gift given. A moment  of  Tres Amigos, she, I and … The Giver.

                                                                         

      Fourth Day:  Wednesday, Belize City, Belize

                       Visited Belize many times before. I stay in and read, Living In Shadow. Exciting book. Way to go, Mac!  I'm interrupted though, by these little guys that keep appearing every night on my bed!!    

                                                                   

      Fifth Day:  Thursday, Roatan, Honduras Mahogany Bay      (mini-dot)

                The big steel whale opens mouths to spill out people ready to immerse themselves into a new day’s adventure. A blazing sun welcomes them, licking his chops. We observe the crowd below us from our balcony. Groups in lines saunter down the gangway, ready to shop in the close up stores owned by Carnival Cruises. Others prepare to spend the next coming hours in the nearby well-manicured beach also owned by Carnival. We’ve been here before and decide to spend the day reading, resting and me ... writing. Oh yes, also somewhere in there, we get in some eating!  Alas, this ship has sequestered a French baker and an Amish lady who bake together with goals to drive any palate insane.  I have discovered I’m on a reverse Atkin’s diet. Screaming carbohydrates everywhere twist my arm and force me….

                                                                       

                                                          Mahogany Bay, Honduras               

  Fifth Day:    Cayman Islands           ( mini-dot)

                 My husband sleeps. I slip out of bed. The tranquility of the balcony greets me. My watch marks 6:30 A.M. Semi-darkness. The cape of Lady Night still blankets a yawning sun. I trace the scene before me. Miles away the horizon slices a division between the black amber sea and the wide page of grey skies. I hear the sounds of playful waves against the ship. Standing by the rail, I catch the contrast of ebony waters, appearing like an extended grand piano while snow-white foam splashes steel … the musical instrument’s frolicking keys.  I come and sit clothed in solitude. My heart dances to the soft beat of gratitude. The Lord of The Dance allows me entrance into one of His alcoves. I sense His pleasure. His dance.  And, for this time, I too own the space, the scene, the moment. And … He owns me

                                                        

 

Sixth Day:    At Sea     From the spiritual to the mundane!    (A mini-dot)

                The last day and we find ourselves where we started, back on the self-serving area. My mind fantasizes. Food everywhere seems to pout and then scream, “Pick me!” People rolling now, like colorful beach balls, to fill warm, just-washed plates. Plates that cry “Mercy, leave already.”  And me? My affair with desserts and breads is nearly over. Our fling has lost its luster.  Is it that the Amish lady jumped ship? Or that the French baker went on strike? Why do the cakes, all of a sudden seem dry and the cheesecakes grainy and bland like talcum sand?  Could it be my look ahead, to the awaiting bitter taste of consequence?  The coming greeting of my treadmill at home, “Oh, honey, what’s that around your middle?  You got yourself a new breadbasket?” 

                     Oh, woe is me. I’m undone! But, get out of my way. They just opened the Chocolate Extravaganza!

Seventh Day:    Sunday  Going Home     (mini-dot)

                      Early morning, all's packed and ready. I glance for a last time at the cabin. The camera in my mind rolls to recent memories. A man in a psychedelic green tank top and navy blue cap, brings breakfast every day for me in bed. The voice of the cruise director calls us to attention.  Adios, cabin .... My Kermit and I step back into reality.