Sunday, January 18, 2009

I intended to have a burrito at the very popular burrito joint down the street, but there were no seats available, so I walked across the street to Choco-Banana, figuring I'd get whatever they have for lunch, but they were just closing (must be a Sunday thing), so I walked up the hill to El Espresso, where I was finally welcomed and given an Italian bagel (cream cheese, oregano, olive oil, yum) followed by a caramel macchiato. There will be no weight lost today, for sure. And here I sit, relishing my contact with the outside world, trying to keep the bees from drinking my caramel macchiato.

Robin is at home, recovering from his morning's adventure. He took the kayak over to the next bay, while I went for a swim. While I was in the water, I saw a crowd gathering on the beach - mostly women. Everybody started fanning out, so I joined the group and asked what the problem was. Somebody's ten-year-old son was missing. They weren't sure whether he had gone into the water, or maybe back to their hotel. We all scanned the waves and the beach. Then, the boy's father appeared from the hotel grounds. The boy was up there. Great sighs of relief - followed by great annoyance. I think I counted twenty seconds between "Oh, thank god you're okay!" and "Don't you ever do that again. I could kill you!" Ah, parenthood.

After my swim, I had a shower and shampoo, got dressed, put some make-up on, talked to Kris and TJ, who were packing up to leave for Puerto Vallarta. Then I walked back to the beach and saw that Robin was heading home. I waited at the water's edge. He came straight in at me, then suddenly veered to the right and was swamped a few feet from the shore. I didn't dare go in after him, because I knew we would both end up needing to be rescued. I tried to reach either the boat or the paddle, whichever came at me first. Nothing was working. Suddenly I was sitting in the water, wet up to my armpits. Robin was still thrashing around, trying to get his footing in deep gravel while being battered by the waves. A young woman rushed up and helped him to get up on the beach, while the boat came in and ran over me a couple of times. Eventually, Robin, the boat and the paddle all made it to shore, along with the helpful young woman. A man ran down and pulled the kayak across the beach to the wall where Robin keeps it tied. I tried to help him carry the boat, but he didn't need my help - which was just as well, considering that I could barely breathe when I got to the wall. Robin joined me there, and we both stood around until we got our breath back. Again, twenty seconds ensued before I said "Dammit, it took me two days to get these cotton shorts dry, and now they're full of salt water again!" Ah, wifehood.

That was a couple of hours ago. Robin was rather shaken by the experience (he was in a more serious pickle than I realized at the time), so he's having a well-earned siesta. I hope he won't take the kayak out here again. It's just too stressful, what with the waves.

So meanwhile, TJ and Kris have gone on ahead of us to Puerto Vallarta, where they will meet up with Colleen and Wade. They will report back to me by Facebook, so that Robin and I will know whether we want to join them there, or just stay here in Sayulita for a while, then join them again when it's time to head south.

Robin mentioned to TJ that we might join them on Tuesday, but I said I'm not moving an inch until after the inauguration. We're going to have a party at the park.

That reminds me - I came across a Langston Hughes poem yesterday, and it seemed beautifully prophetic. This is it:

I, Too, Sing America by Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"

They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.

It's been a long time coming.

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