I am feeling a bit angsty today, as I just wrote to a friend. Which makes me feel guilty because...
I mean seriously. What kind of a crazy person feels angsty sitting in front of that?
Of course that picture was taken half an hour ago and now it's blowing and clouded over and the rain is about to fall but it will all blow over and be beautiful again in a little while and the rain is beautiful too.
Here it comes. And it is beautiful. It's coming down in curtains of gray, ruffling the water. We sit here on our snug patio and watch it.
But back to me. I am having one of those I-am-not-worthy moments. Why do I get to be here in Paradise when people are suffering all over the world? What did I do to deserve this? How could I have left my grandchildren for this long? My chickens? I am enjoying this all to much/I am not enjoying it as much as I should be. I am so lazy (I tidied my shelf of skirts a few minutes ago- the most housework I have done in a week). I am eating too much, drinking too much rum. My husband is surely bored. With me. I am ugly and old.
I should be learning Spanish or riding through the jungle on horseback or climbing a pyramid. Nah. Probably not.
Yesterday we found a little shop we had been looking for which we remembered from the last time we were here. This required about an hour of cross-street mopeding, up and down the blocks. We had a vague idea of where it might be. We found it and parked the moped and an older local woman, very elegantly dressed, opened her car door and said something to us in Spanish. I finally got what she was saying. We were in a loading zone and the police would tow us. Or arrest us or something. But anyway, we thanked her profusely and moved the bike and all was well. But this is the way it is here. Everyone seems to look out for everyone and are not afraid to interact with strangers. I think this is truly what I love about Cozumel. We stopped in a back neighborhood to buy our lunch at a chicken-roasting place. You buy a roasted chicken and they accompany it with plastic bags, twisted at the top filled with: rice, spaghetti, a sort of macaroni soup, some spicy pickled cabbage, and some bean sauce. And two types of hot sauce. Less than ten dollars.
We brought it back to the room and ate our fill and there is still about half a chicken left and the birds got a lot of leftover rice.
Anyway, while we were there, a woman and her little girl were getting their own chicken. The nina looked to be about eighteen months old, perhaps although who knows? She was tiny in her little helmet, her little outfit and she smiled at me and I smiled at her and before I knew it, I was reaching out my hand to her and she grabbed on and I wanted to snatch her up and kiss her and kiss her and I honestly do not think her mama would have cared. I am so obviously an abuela. But. You know. I am a reserved American in that way. We do not snatch up babies not our own to kiss the cheeks off of. When they left on their moped, I waved and the little child blew kisses at me. I blew kisses back and said, "I love you!" which was ridiculous, but rather true.
An older gentleman in the dollar/peso exchange place yesterday who was making jewelry (yes, they exchange money and sell jewelry and I have my eyes on a pair of earrings there) told me that I had a beautiful smile.
I think of all of this and my eyes overfill a little.
It goes on and on.
Today is the day we definitely plan to cross the island, drive through the jungle past the ranches and the Tequila Factory and Los Ruinas to the other side which is the wild side where there isn't even electricity, just wild surf pounding on rocks and beach bars, conveniently placed for your dining pleasure. Somehow they manage to create entire delicious menus and we shall certainly never starve here as long as we have pesos or dollars.
The rain has gone again. The blues and greens are back.
I am on vacation, DAMMIT! I am going to enjoy myself. And that is good and it is okay.