Tuesday, March 7, 2006

San Blas is amazing. I'm so glad we didn't fly, because then we would have missed out on these unbelievable islands. Peder came in the dinghy and got us at eight this morning and we went back to the beach where everyone was scattered around sleeping. We cleaned up our mess and then Peder said he and Mildred would go back to the Moonlight Lady and fix breakfast and that we should walk the long way around the island to give them time. He said it was beautiful.

So we walked. It it was just unbelievable. Close by the shore the water was clear, but about ten feet out, it abruptly turned such a bright blue that it made the sky look more of a grayish blue.

I've been barefoot ever since I took off my hiking boot the first night and exposed my pale, wrinkled feet to the air. The white sand was fine and soft and sticky. The morning breeze drifted through the palm trees and created a pleasant rustling sound that blended perfectly with the soft lapping of the waves.

Waiting for the boat, I found some starfish. In waist-deep water I was able to look down and see them at my toes, perfectly clearly. There are a lot of starfish to be seen if you can snorkle, but it's probably best for me not to revisit that debacle too soon.

The other people on the boat are great. It's a really good group. There may be six bodies too many, but I can't imagine whom I'd cut. It's all just amazing. Sailing! What a life!

Speaking of lives, the Kuna have got quite a good thing going as well. They live all year on these amazing islands, for one. But they have also managed to preserve their way of life since Columbus, which is impressive. They also charge $1USD for each photo you take of them. I say, good for them. Why not? But it's not so good for us, because posed photos are not how Michael works.

Peder told us that for the price of a pig (about $70 USD), you can get married in Kuna Yala. You buy the pig and are then entitled to a ceremony, after which the roasted pig is your wedding feast. It was tempting.

Tip: if you go to Kuna Yala, don't help yourself to any coconuts, whether in a tree or on the ground, even on uninhabited islands. Someone owns every tree you see, and all the coconuts it produces. They've been passed down through generations. And if you take one, they'll be pissed.

After breakfast, Michael and I hung out on the boat all day. Some of the guys went out spearfishing with the Kuna from "our" island and came back with a mess of bright, tropical fish and one furiously snapping moray eel.

The captain of the [Fancier Boat Than Ours] came by in his enormous, gleaming dinghy with the white leather seats to invite us to dinner on the other island. "We can't feed you," he said, "but you're welcome to come and grill something and have a drink." He mentioned a couple of times that the invitation was just to their fire, not their food.

So we went over there after dinner. Nobody from our boat was that enthusiastic, but we went. Peder and Mildred chose to use the opportunity to have some alone time. Smart.

There were a lot of assumptions made about these rich, sheltered girls. Personally, I'm not going to blame a person for having been sheltered any more than I'm going to blame someone for having been abused. But unfortunately, these girls did not really live up to the benefit of my doubts.

I mean, they were ok, but they didn't really talk to anyone except Michael, who actively pursued conversation with them. And while I'm the first one to pull out the "maybe they're shy" excuse (because I'm so shy), these girls were not shy. They were just bleh. Though I suspect that the girl whose family owned the boat had something to her. Too bad she was overshadowed by her loud friends.

They told us that the Kuna kids from the island they were visiting would constantly ask them for ice. That ice is a huge treat for them because they never get any. And that was pretty much the only interesting thing they said.

They didn't talk to anyone else from our boat, and they didn't talk to the Kuna from their island, who were sitting by themselves off to one side on fancy blue chairs from the fancy boat.

The [Fancier Boat Than Ours] was so fancy that even some of the staff was snobby. They had quite a spread prepared, but we were not allowed to have any. They had ribs! We had already eaten dinner and were grilling fish that the Kuna had helped our guys catch earlier in the day, but man, those ribs looked good. You don't really get ribs in Central America. Ok, we went to Tony Roma's in San Salvador, but how often do we do that?

Some crew guy in his fancy yellow uniform polo shirt came to toss the ribs on the grill next to our fish. He said to us, "Too bad you can't have any of these. They've been marinating in Guiness for hours." And then he walked away. We were all like, what? Did you just say that?

Later on, several people mentioned assuming he would surely follow up a line like that by offering us some ribs. But he didn't. And it was not a fluke or joke gone awry. He pretty much sucked. Back on the Moonlight Lady, the cool boat, everyone had a story about some crummy thing he'd said.

And I bet the ribs were good too. I ate a piece of grilled fish ("Ooh, that looks like it was done three hours ago," Mean Yellow Shirt Guy said) and it must have touched a rib, because it had a tiny smear of barbecue sauce on it, and it was tasty. Look, you don't have to give us your ribs. Just shut the hell up about not giving them to us.

But not all the crew was lame. The stewardess... yeah, there was a stewardess... shared cookies with us and talked to us like regular people, and someone else gave us pasta salad. That was good, because our fish was prettier than it was tasty.

Most of the others liked the moray eel, but I gave my piece to Michael. I was surprised that I didn't like it, because I usually love all things seafood. And I like unagi. But this eel was kind of chewy and bony. Maybe I just got a bad piece.

Well, it was only a couple of hours out of an otherwise amazing day. I think in general we all had a much better time the first night, including the two Kuna guys from our island, who sat at the edge of the crowd the whole time tonight and kept to themselves.

Those girls can keep their 147 foot yacht and their captain who knows the lead singer from Duran Duran. I'd rather forgo the ribs and crash into a reef with the cool people.

 

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The sailboat from land. A beautiful boat.

An amazing morning walk.

Starfish.

Kuna house, Chichime.

Kuna canoe.

Waiting for breakfast, Chichime.

Fish.

Angry Moray eel.