Ritsuko had the biggest smile on her face as she looked up at me from the hammock at Buho's. She had been talking for some time about how much she wished that she had bought a hammock the last time we were on Isla, and I think that she was determined to try out several of them in order to determine exactly what she wanted to buy. I handed her a cold beer as I sat on a bench at the bar, looking out over the expanse of white sand, turquoise water, and blue sky.
Having chugged down half of my beer, I asked the bartender to order us some nachos, and told him that I would be right back. I couldn't stand just looking at the water any longer. Leaving my shirt at the bar, and leaving Ritsuko in her blissful hammock daydream, I walked out onto Playa Norte. The soft sand gently caressed my feet in its warm embrace as I slowly walked toward the water. No need to hurry anywhere for anything; I breathed slowly and deeply, the smell of the hot moist air awakened my sense of smell; the hot late afternoon sun was hitting me directly in the face, illuminating the bright colors around me as I moved ever so slowly toward it. Then, my feet touched the smooth cool wet hard packed sand at the water's edge. The gentle waves splashed over my feet and ankles, retreating back into the sea, teasing me like a siren's sultry voice, beckoning me to join her in the turquoise paradise. Succumbing to the siren's trance, I moved farther into the sea, finally diving outward, immersing my body and soul into it's embrace. The cool water shocked me back into consciousness as I rose to the surface. Floating on my back, I looked out at Isla with vision blurred by the sea water streaming over my sunglasses, but with the crystal clear vision in my mind filling in the blurred gaps. It was so wonderful to be back.
I returned to the bar, cleaned my sunglasses with one of the few dry areas of my shirt, wrang the sea water out of my cap, finished my cerveza, and ordered two more. Returning to the bar after delivering a cerveza to my hammock bound bride, I joined into a conversation with the two women and a man who were sitting at the end of the bar. One of the young women, it turns out, recognized us as their new neighbors at MdM. She and her friend, and roommate were celebrating their last night on Isla, lamenting the fact that it was the last, envying me and Ritsuko for having ten nights ahead of us, and their friend and drinking buddy Rob, who was to be on the island for another five nights. Last nights can really suck if you are not ready to leave. There is really nothing one can say to console a person who is crying in their beer over it being the last night on Isla. My mind was racing, with all sorts of philosophical renderings coming forth in various stages of coherence, but in the end, I took the easy way out, and changed the subject. "Where are you from?" I asked.
Prior to this trip, she had just moved from Southern California to Chicago, after staying with some relatives near a place called the Quad Cities. "Quad Cities!!! Holy Crap!!! that's where we live!!!" It is indeed a small world. We talked for a while as a famished Ritsuko ascended from her hammock to the bar in order to get another cerveza and to eat her share of the nachos before they were consumed or carried away by the flies. After polishing off the nachos and another cerveza, we decided to walk down the beach to Playa Sol.
Having been on Isla in November, we noticed as we walked down Playa Norte that the sand had returned to the point of Playa Sol. We were so glad that the sea had returned that corner of the island. The last time we were there, the water lapped at the sandbags around the footings of ChiChi Charlie's palapa.
Approaching Sergio's bar, we could hear a lot of laughter, and we could see some people gathered under the palapa next to the bar. A pretty lady with a big smile met us as we stepped into the palapa's shade. "You must be Bob and Ritsuko!," she said. It was Denise from Iowa, who introduced herself and her husband Mike. I wish that we could have gotten to know them, but they were there celebrating their last night on Isla. Ritsuko and I were both in kind of a daze, having traveled all day, and now sweating from the heat and working up a cerveza buzz. I was trying to keep up with everything that was going on, and trying to remember names as Denise pointed toward a table and told us that there were several people from the board. I asked if Wanda was among them, and as soon as I mentioned her name, Wanda stood up waved, and came over and hugged us both.
If anyone on the face of the earth personifies unbridled joy, it is Wanda. We had communicated so often on the message board, chat, and email, and now finally meeting in person, it was as if we already knew one another. I am a slow talker, and Wanda talks really fast, so most of the time, I just listened, wondering where she gets all of that energy.
As I leaned against the bar, listening to Wanda, John (JD) and Patti came over. JD was photographing Elvis doing his Chippendales dance for some of the ladies at the other table, and Patti was drinking a very large bottle of Corona. I could tell right away that we were going to have fun with JD and Patti. As I stood there at the bar, looking and listening, I was in total awe of how small the world is, and how tightly we are all connected, even if we don't always realize it.
The sunset that night was rather bland, but we didn't care, for we would be on Isla for nine more of them. The party was moving to some place on Hidalgo, but Ritsuko and I were fading fast, so instead of moving along with the group, we went our own way.
We walked to the zocalo, bought a few things at the Super Express, and had some street food, as it was Sunday night. One of the simple pleasures on Isla is sitting on the zocalo on a weekend night, watching the local families out for the evening, and sampling street food from the vendors who set up there on the weekends. Seeing the children running freely and happily playing under the watchful eyes of their parents in such a peaceful setting, we are always reminiscent of a simpler time long ago past, but certainly not forgotten.
For many, the evening festivities were just beginning, but for us it was time to go to bed. We walked back to Maria del Mar enjoying the smell and the feeling of the warm moist air, we smiled as we saw the dogs napping with legs fully extended, bellies buried in the sand, and we felt good as the island embraced a couple of tired foreigners once again. Slowly walking through the streets of Isla, all things were familiar and friendly. It was all coming back to us as we slipped into Isla mode. Our lives had been rather hectic for the past few months, but we knew that once we got back to the island, everything would be allright ... and indeed it was.