Three weeks in Paradise! The best medicine for what ails you, your stress levels melt away in the mid day sun, blood pressure drops and you smile a lot. I needed this trip!
New life, new beginnings. Start my day with a fresh green coconut (buko) and half a papaya, maybe a sweet banana or two. Bacon and eggs don’t even sound appetizing. The neighbor brings a pail of fresh fish by, caught the night before. A pot of rice cooking on an open fire. Nothing weird in this cuisine, everything is organic, fresh, chemical free and delicious!
Sitting under a bamboo Palapa and reading a great book, the hours go by. Kids drop in to see what I’m doing. They work and play, laugh and love all day long. Families are tight in paradise, older kids helping the babies, cousins, sisters and brothers exist as one. Families are born, live and die together, generation after generation.
Life is hard here, no machines to wash your laundry, its done by hand, one piece at a time. Water is hauled in 5 gallon containers from the tap down the way. There’s food to gather, Cassava root to dig, peel, wash and shred. Piles of white powder to dry overnight and then sift again the next day. It makes a fine sweet cake when mixed with green buko jelly and baked in a pit of hot coals! Not an extra ounce of fat on anyone, even the seniors have six pack ab’s, lean and muscled, they can outwork any twenty year old from the good old U.S.A!
There’s nothing like hiking down to the beach during low tide and digging clams and conch shells! Food is everywhere in Paradise, paid for with sweat and toil. There’s value in everything, nothing is wasted or taken for granted. Life surrounds you and embraces you. Music plays, people sing and the day goes by.
Evenings are spent sitting together and telling stories, laughing about this or that. Someone brings you a glass of buko wine, tastes a bit vinegary but gives a warm happy feeling! The sun goes down, chickens fly up in the banana trees to sleep. Everything winds down, its 8pm and time for bed. Sleep and dreams come quickly under a ceiling fan on a warm tropical night.
The roosters start crowing about 4am and they don’t stop. It’s time to wake up and do it all over again, the music and singing begin and its a new day. Same as yesterday!