Friday, September 14, 2012

Holy Guacamole!

            We’ve been on the island for about a month and a half now, and I’m ashamed to admit that my first visit back to the beach was last Saturday.  I’ve sort of fallen into a nasty habit of saying, “Well, the beach isn’t going anywhere.”  Too often I forget that I am.  Maybe I need to write on my bathroom mirror You’re Not Going to Be Here Forever in the most vivid shade of lipstick I own.
            Last weekend was Family Weekend at SGU.  The school organized three days’ worth of events and activities as it played host to many students’ visiting families.  As Ivan’s wife and, therefore, family, I signed up to take part in a couple of the free events.  That is how Ivan and I found ourselves, Saturday morning, enjoying a free brunch with friends.  We followed the complimentary meal with rum tasting (also free).  Actually, I didn’t take part in the rum tasting since I’m not a fan of rum (gasp!) or, really, any hard liquor (double gasp!).  After the boozing, we watched about half of a chocolatier’s demonstration before hastily changing into beach gear and catching a bus to Magazine Beach.

Mmmm... free fried food!
Pig foot soup, complete with hairy pig feet!

            Nothing but free food could have enticed me to stuff my face before shimmying into my bikini, but, as it was free and mostly pretty good, stuff my face I did.  I got a little exercise in the sea, though.  Let no one tell you that treading water and playing Frisbee simultaneously is an easy feat.  For, even if I were able to fling that disc anywhere remotely close to my target, I still would be exhausted from perpetually pumping my legs to keep my head above water.  Also, let no one tell you that exhausting yourself from treading water in the Caribbean Sea is not so much fun!  Have I mentioned recently (or ever) how much I love to swim?

The happy beach goers!

            Going to the beach holds distinct attraction for people.  For me, the water is the attraction.  The sand I can take or leave; the trees, the sun, the breeze, are all accessories to the sea.  This term, we brought a snorkel set with us.  Although the water was unusually choppy and visibility was poor, I donned the fashionable mask and awkward fins, forgoing the snorkel for fear that I would emerge as a wave crested and suck down water instead of air.  With a few friends, I dove into the cloudy water and skimmed over rock formations and reefs.  I have yet to determine how to equalize the pressure that caused my ears to ache every time I reached a certain depth, but I got a few tips from my fellow divers.  Under water, noise was muffled to the very brink of silence and all I heard was a crackling, like electricity, still dim in the hush, so that my ears were assaulted when I resurfaced and the soundlessness was broken by my splashing and gasping and the wind rushing, louder than the waves.  I think it’s cliché for me to assimilate the underwater encounter to another world, but I would do exactly that if I had to describe the experience.
Strapping on my headgear
David found a treasure?

            A few other happenings:
            We got more fruit.  Like that’s a huge surprise, right?  But, look at it all!
            We supported a kickball team comprised mostly of our friends. Go Kickaholics Anonymous!
             We have found a new hobby.  Every time we have an avocado pit (and we have had many recently since we’ve both started eating guacamole almost on a daily basis), we try to throw it from our balcony onto Holly and David’s balcony, below us.  We write or draw on some of the pits and, for reasons I’m not even going to try going into, we yell Potato! every time we successfully bomb their balcony.  I am putting together a video of all of our air raids, so look forward to that in an upcoming post.  Happily, we are not the only ones getting into this avocado-pit-tossing.  Holly even posted about it in her blog!
What we threw down

What they tossed up
            I went to a fun wine night with the girls at Katie’s house.
            I came down with a touch of the paintin’ fever again.

1 comment:

  1. Beasley reminds me of my pup Doyle. How funny! Glad to see you are enjoying your new "home."