Lots of beauty and stuff

The hurricane didn't pass through here and I'm pretty sure that it has dissipated and is not doing harm!

Now, onto the good stuff. As u know, I ramble and go all over the place. Try to follow my writing and excuse me for any grammatical or spelling/coherency errors.

Just when you think it can’t get any more beautiful. God shows you. How silly that thought was. Here, in Canasí, with the ocean against the rocks, I’m heading to sleep. After an awkward meeting outside the science building at the University of Havana, we sat on rocks, holding hot dogs in yellow rolls, getting to know the little joys of small talk. In spanglish and moonlight I could see how lucky I have been. I could feel my excitement in the sounds around me reflected in the water beneath the milky way → pronounced in Spanish meel-key-wai. There is something very satisfying about hearing words that are common to your ears spoken from the mouth of someone uncommon. And. It is very helpful in reminding myself that I am always home.

The ocean – which I am pretty sure is the same water in the golf of México, is so close, my face is literally covered with a thin film of salt. The trees around us have thick round leaves with bathing suits and trash bags hanging from them. The travel to the campsite included a 45 minute-1 hour car ride, a short walk to the mouth of the ocean that meets a river. Then (the best part!) a crossing of the river, with our fatty backpacking bags above our head with the water just below our noses. Just kidding. On me (the shortest person in the group) the water reached my belly button – I put my bathing suit on before...behind a bush with my feet in the grass – so. We arrived in a car, walked maybe a mile to the mouth of the ocean that flowed into the river we crossed. We hiked a little less than another mile and arrived, where we are now. Under trees, looking out into the ocean from rocks and sand and old fallen leaves.

We arrived, dropped our things and jumped in the ocean. Ocean. How thick and forgiving. Never, have I ever, been so close to such a body so big and mature. The ocean is terrifying, yet… captivating? I guess many things that are scary catch the eye…or maybe we are afraid of them simply because they are so magnificent and we can’t keep from being marveled.

It doesn’t really work to give words to something so fluid. Here → GO LOOK AT THE OCEAN AND LEAVE A COMENT, trying to describe it… it’s really hard to describe something like ocean. Or, observe something else that scares you, something that makes you squeeze on the inside but something you can’t keep yourself from.

So, there we were, jumping off the rocks. 1st the lowest one. Into the clear green/blue water. It shook with laughter upon our entrance. Me and Drea jumped together (one of the women from SLC on the trip with us) the flow of the ocean had been moving before us and it continued after. We rode the waves and treaded water for a while. The coral and sand below us was still. Something constant – the ocean needs those. Maybe they keep it centered?

With us, 4 other students and 3 professors came. The 4 students jump from the highest rock. It looks like nothing from below. At the top I can’t help but to act cavalier, telling Drea there’s no problem – just jump – it’s easy – blah blah blah. She jumps, I’m next. The rock feels like sand paper moving across my skin and the sand beneath the water looks miles away. I feel as though I’m in an airplane. Years from hitting the water. I count to 3. I smell the salt b4 it’s lodged into my nose. The waves had started to crash against the rocks to the sides of my airborne body. I hit the water. My arms flopped against the top of the water – making smacking noises louder than my shrill voice – kind of making everyone uncomfortable and worried.

After jumping I smile. I knew the ocean would scoop me up. Standing on the fuzzy rocky corally stuff that lives under the water, breaking the waves with my right hip made me wanna stay in the ocean for ever! The part of the water that we jumped into, formed a cave of mossy rocks and a little pool of water that we got to sit in.

Exiting this little cave was a rock climb. The sun set. The tents went up. dinner was busted out and so was my garlic (ajo/garlic oja/leave ojo/eye oso/bear) these are always fun to recite.

So, then, that all brings me to the moment I realized how silly it is to forget that there is always more. I felt in love. I feel like I’m in love. With the sounds coming out of people’s mouths, with the water that surrounds us, with the quickly appearing stars, with the young man missing me in Vedado…lots of love. Lots of beauty.

So, as I said. How silly that thought was. There is always more. Always something new and always, if you look for it, or let it look for you, something beautiful and full of love.



More!

The sun is creeping up the rocks and quickly lighting up the sky. The ocean becomes more clear and the white sand below seems closer. The light of the sky and the rising sun dances on the surface of the water. There are 4 fishing boats. One facing each direction. It’s hard to believe the sky. Water and sand do this every day, they don’t ask for money or some kind of recognition.

The entire sky is periwinkle. There are puffs of clouds lining the edge. There is pink in the distance and that yellow ball creeping up the rocks. The moon is still high and brighter than everything else. I want to jump into all of it.