as we pushed back from gate e4 this morning, it was strange to hear my dad’s familiar voice distorted over the overhead speakers announcing our flights route, the weather conditions, eta, and so on. from take off to landing i was slaving away on my english paper. i was stuck on the inside row of the airplane while becca got to sit back and gaze at the beautiful view of various hues of crystal blue waters as we flew over the sunny islands of the carribbean. i couldn’t see worth squat. i’ll try to snag a window seat on the way back, if either one of us are lucky enough to get one. a native arubian picked us up in his service van to drop us off at the wyndham hotel. he was quite a lively character; i don’t think there was a sentence that came out of his mouth that wasn’t a joke in some way. according to him there is no italian restaurant on the island that doesn’t serve a pile of spaghetti and cheap tomato sauce, call it an exquisite meal, and slap a price tag of $12 on it when its really only worth fifty cents. oh, how true that is anywhere. we checked into our fancy shmancy hotel and then got picked up to go to the car rental place.
okay, not to be rude or anything of that nature, but have you ever encountered someone that you could not tell if they were a man or a woman? so unfortunate. i seriously could not, for the life of me, figure out if this person at the economy car rental was a him or a her. no, i really mean it. his long curly locks of hair were carefully slicked and pulled back into a tight bun on the nape of his neck. however, her voice was quite masculine. but then, his nails were grown very long and shaped nicely, with a touch of mother-of-pearl polish. then again, he wasn’t wearing any make up and didn’t have his ears pierced. and his pants were definitely of the female cut, and chest features were not a result of her doing a few months worth of cicuit training in the gym. perhaps the thing that convinced me the most that she was a he was that she had a definite 5 o’clock shadow creeping across her face…and was definitely not too neatly shaven in the first place. somehow the question of our assistant’s gender was raised in a conversation later in the evening...my dad totally destroyed my hasty conclusion that she was a male when he said that he came to the conclusion that he was a she. i dunno though, becca also though she was a he. it would have helped if he/she had a name tag on. it probably wouldn’t have done any good though…it was prolly a name like jessy or ashley.
after the complicated situation at economy rental, we went four-wheeling along the north shore of the island. typically a desert island (which is why its known as the happy island...cuz it never rains), there were so many standing puddles from the week's worth of rain they had there that we went muddin' through the bumpy paths toward the natural bridge. we ended up not being able to get there because there was about a four foot deep stream in our way that isn't normally there...didn't want to risk having to explain why our "jeep" was in the middle of a river to the economy she-man. we visited california lighthouse, saw some billy goats, and watched the beautiful sunset.
drove around trying to get to the north side of the island for dinner. supposedly, that end of the island is less touristy, if you know what i mean. anyway, ended up not being able to make it out there either because apparantly a bridge was out from all the rain and with all the traffic backed up, it would have taken us two hours to get there and another two to get back. what what? if you look at a map, it would prolly take you thirty minutes max to drive accross the whole island. madness. we drove back to tourist central after about an hour of driving and called it a flop. ate at the local recommended the old fisherman, which ended up being mediocre. shucks. it was interesting, though, because as we were finishing up our meal, the local television station was setting up on the restaurant patio right next to us. we debated back and forth about what was going on until we finally asked the waitress. the 50 people that were walking in and out of this restaurant (which prolly only sat about 20) and setting up the different congo drums and what not, were all there to advertise their new menu for the season. hold up...what?? yea, if that is the biggest news on the island that day was a new menu, i'd hate to see whats on the news on a slow day.
after dinner, we strolled around downtown and then headed back to the hotel for a good nights rest so we can enjoy the day tomorrow. natives have told us that its been raining nonstop for the past month; if it keeps up, a dense tropical forest will replace the cactus strewn scenery. oh, hope things change for once and its sunny tomorrow.
in honor of my dear friend colette, i leave you with the ever so popular lyrics of "kokomo":
Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya
Bermuda, Bahama, come on, pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go
Jamaica off the Florida Keys
There's a place called Kokomo
That's where you want to go
To get away from it all
Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We'll be falling in love to the rhythm
Of a steel drum bandDown in Kokomo
CHORUS
Jamaica, ooh I wanna take you to
Bermuda, Bahama, come on, pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego, ooh I want to take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down in Kokomo
Martinique, that Monserat mystique
We'll put out to sea
And we'll perfect our chemistry
By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity
Afternoon delight cocktails and moonlit nights
That dreamy look in your eye
Give me a tropical contact high
Way down in Kokomo
CHORUS
Port Auprince, I wanna catch glimpse
Everybody knows a little place like Kokomo
Now if you wanna go to get away from it all
Go down to Kokomo
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