The princess and the ocean

Having a long weekend, we decide to go to sea. Me, Isaid and Manuel. The last one 15 years old having been put to work in the Fundacion Leon XIII after having been dismissed in three youth rehabilitation centres and after troubles with a gang in Mexico City: a quiet, lovely adolescent.

The day before, I receive a love poem from Isaid for the ¨woman of his dreams¨. I spent all day thinking of a reply that is not blunt, but adequate though. I have had enough drama for a while, so decide to give it a hint of humor. Anyhow, I end the evening, with a crying boy in my arms - saying words that probably do not help.
I remember a conversation nearly two years ago, with Rafa talking about a high school love: ¨The whole thing of falling in love is not easy. A likes B, but B likes C and C probably likes A.¨ It makes me smile and I confess Isaid my secret affection for our ´boss´ Marcelino. A very convenient platonic love: married and showing no interest in me whatsoever. It does not matter to me, I am happily enjoying sitting next to him in the car and his jokes and songs for Juanita. When this paints a little smile on Isaid´s face, I confess my other platonic ¨loves¨ as well: Jacintho, Sebastian, Maria and Susanna ... so many beautiful people in this world, but sometimes loving them silently is more than enough for me.

We still go to the sea. The ocean. The Pacific ocean.
Six hours away, but then you got loads of palms, waves, sunshine (a little too much), hammocks, sleeping under the stars, pelicans flying around...
Boca del Cielo, Hemelmond.
I am excited to finally see the Pacific. In my head songs of the Beach Boys. My eyes staring over the water. The same water that touches Japan, China, India? Other lands far away, other dreams... where will my travels end one day?

After one day we are already fed up with the food: fish, fish, fish.
I am fed up with Isaid over caring me. ¨You treat me like I´m a princess. I am not used to liking that.¨ (Who sang that?). I am starting to get sick with this sweet machismo . It is nice when they carry the 50 kg sorgho bags, it is not nice when they do not even let you carry your own back pack. It is nice to have your meal paid once, but if they always pay it is annoying. You get the feeling you are ´indebted´. When you are immediately given their coat if you are cold (they proudly withstanding the cold night for you), while you carried around three sweaters in your own bag. That even though they have more trouble climbing over a slippery path than you do, they stop to give you a hand... Grrrrrrrr, yes I am a woman, but I am not a baby!!!!! Please...

But the mangrove (manglar) were beautiful after a four hours walk along the waves!! Manuel rescued a young aguilar who had fallen in a water reservoir and could not get out. After having gathered its strength, it first tried to attack its saviour and than flew away. Freedom regained.

And I was happy having time to read the Lessons of Don Juan, a recommendation for everyone interested in magic mushrooms and all the other hallucinogenic (what a word!) plants that the indigenous of Northern Mexico use for their spiritual growth.


Photos: 1 Manuel and Isaid enjoying the coolness after a hot day.
2 Manglar/Mangrove
3 Pelicanos in full flight