Take it Easy

I felt a tightness in my chest this afternoon when I left the shores of Utila, bound for home and the cold. I have to say that it was an unfamiliar tightness, one that I haven't felt all that often. I spent a good portion of the ferry ride to La Ceiba trying to piece together what the feeling is all about. Now I sit in the same hostel I did nearly two months ago, this time wearing a jacket and feeling as if my toes might be a little numb from the cold. Oh how things have changed.

It is hard to  fully grasp how things have changed actually. So much has. My world outlook isn't much different. My politics are largely the same. Religion certainly hasn't entered into the picture. So what has? I came to Utila looking for answers. I don't think I realized this when first arriving, but I have come to understand that now. And in a way, Utila has provided a lot of them. Maybe not all of them, but certainly a number.

Post-graduation was a really confusing time for me. A second ago I typed the line "I knew exactly what I didn't want to do" and had to delete it because even that isn't true. I didn't even really have a clear idea of what I didn't want to do. I just knew that I had to do something. But what? What called to me? I didn't have an answer. For the first time in my life I didn't have an answer. And it was really scary. Really scary.

I left home for Utila with a nonchalance that I have never known before. Going away has always been a big deal for me. Even leaving to go to school each semester was a big deal. For the first time I feel like I just shrugged, jumped on the plane, and let the adventure take me where it wanted. Because of that I think that I have learned far more than I ever thought that I would. A trip that was just about doing some diving has become a trip about much more than diving.

I am finding it difficult to know where to start. Maybe a fresh slate is the best place. I came to Utila feeling like I had a completely fresh slate. No one knew who I was, no one knew my story. I could be anyone I wanted to be. I quickly found out that I could do anything I wanted to as well. Cocaine? Sure, a few bucks in the right hand and I could be snorting cocaine. Wild partying every single night? That was there too. I could be cool or I could be chill, I could be the kid from a small town or the one that pretends to be tough and from a big city. No one knew me. I'll say that I decided, but it was nothing as significant or definite as that. I just became Andrew. If that sounds a little crazy that is okay. Because it is a little crazy. But just a little bit. I firmly believe that in life we can either be ourselves or we can pretend to be someone else, and I think most people spend a lot of their lives pretending they are someone else. The people that are the happiest are happy because they are not pretending to be anyone else. They are just following their hearts and being the best person they know how to be. And that is what I have tried to do these past two months. The result has surprised me a little bit. Not because I have become a party hound or a cocaine addict. As you can imagine, those things didn't and don't appeal to me. That isn't me. But the person that I am, deep inside, is not necessarily the person I thought I was. The person that I have found to be Andrew is not the same person I thought Andrew was when he came to this island (stopping with third person, it is getting way too confusing).
I found that I can be the kind of person that people genuinely want to have around and spend time with. I've never considered myself to be that social of a person and I have never, ever, been the life of the party. It'll sound silly if you know him, and I am sure I am going to hear about this from him, but I've never considered myself to be a "Pat". What I have found though is that I can be if I just let go of everything and be myself. I can make people laugh, I can tell interesting stories. I can share parts of myself with people who I essentially don't know without fear. And I have found that people really, truly do enjoy being around me. I feel super ego maniacal right now writing all of this, but in a way that can't be helped. And I don't mean it in that way. I don't mean it in the "hey everyone look at me I am awesome" way. I mean it in the "I just found out some things about myself that I truly didn't know before, look at me" way.
I guess what I am saying is that this past month I have discovered how real I can be. How good it feels to be real. I have been 100% Andrew since stepping on the island. It hasn't been without its speedbumps and problems. But it has been eye opening. I feel as if I could go anywhere right now and find a life, find friends and a place. That wasn't a feeling I came here with. That isn't something I knew when I arrived here.

I did an awful job explaining that but I hope you understood it at least a little bit. If not, oh well.

Coming here also answered a few of the "what next" questions I had been having. And these were huge. Not having a path, not having "something to do", was really hard for me. It still is really hard for me. But it has gotten easier. Being here I have realized that no one in the world knows what they want to do. What colleges do to you is lie about what you "should" be feeling as you complete it. They tell you that after four years you'll have a degree and a path and a vision. Which isn't necessarily untrue, it just isn't the full truth. What you aren't told, or what isn't demonstrated in "the way of the world" is that the chances of you knowing what you want to do are slim, and the only way to know is to experience the world. How many people did I meet these past two months had no idea what they wanted to do? Most of them. And most of them were okay with that. In a way it taught me to be okay with it too. I don't need to know anymore. I just need to go out and do and by doing that, life will fall right into my lap. Before I realize what is happening I will be doing something, will be going somewhere.

Which brings me to my "what next". I fell in love with diving on the island of Utila. I had an inkling before, but now I know for sure. I love it so incredibly much. I guess I have written a lot about diving but never explained why I love it so much. I am not even sure that I could explain it. Its really nothing more than the fact that once I get underwater I feel at peace and I feel present. And every single time I go underwater it is the coolest experience I have ever had. Every dive has something that makes it special. Take today for instance. I did two dives that were, by and large, average. I didn't see anything spectacular. The conditions were pretty shitty, all things considered. But they were absolutely amazing. I was diving sidemount and while both dives lasted about an hour, I would have stayed down for twice that long. I just love being underwater. I can't describe it beyond that. I took my mask off and just hung motionless, with nothing but my breathing. It was unreal. And I want to do that every single day until I get tired of it. Which may be never. Rather than do some mediocre job for a couple of months at a time to pay for dive trips, why not skip all of that and work directly in the dive industry? That is my "what next?" I want to be a scuba instructor. There is so much about diving that I want to learn. For the first time in a long time I feel hungry to learn. Teach me about dive equipment. Teach me how to fill tanks and mix gasses. Teach me how to dive in a cave. I want to learn so much and there is so much to learn.
So my next step is to save up enough money to do IDC (instructor development course) somewhere, probably in Thailand. Diving is what I want to do, and that is the next step. Period.

So when it all comes down to it, what was that tightness in my chest? Everything I have written is an attempt to answer that, but none of it really does. Part of that is my fault. I am having trouble being coherent and writing what I want to say tonight.
Ultimately, the tightness in my chest was because I was leaving a life that was really really easy. Doing something you love is really, really easy. Waking up each morning to dive was the easiest thing I have ever done. Spending each moment of each day just being who you are and not pretending to be someone else is really easy. Having friends is not always easy. But when you realize who your friends are and realize how good their friendship feels, and you make sure that the time you spend is around them, that is really easy.

And all of a sudden it has hit me. No really, it just hit me in the face. Sitting here on this bed, realizing that I am actually starting to sweat again, I have realized what it is all about. Its about taking it easy. The lesson Utila has taught me is that life should be easy. And any time it isn't, you need to make a change so that it is easy. That sounds as if I am ignoring all the hard times, making them less than they are. Trust me, I am not. I know hard times, and I know just how unbelievably hard they can be. But life should be easy. We should all work to cultivate an easy life. When life is easy, it is really, really good. It feels great. Life has, for the most part, been easy these last two months, and I know that I will miss that greatly.

I also know that I will miss the diving. Getting up each morning and diving was the absolute best way to spend time. Life won't be the same without it.
I will miss my friends here. It is strange to know that you will likely never talk to someone again, much less see them again. By and large that is true of most of the people I have met here. Hopefully I will see some of them again. There are some that I know I will, and that makes leaving a tad bit easier.

And so comes to an end one of the least satisfying blog posts I have ever written. I mostly just feel frustrated because I don't think that I expressed myself how I wanted to. But I guess it will all just have to wait until you see me next. Maybe then I will be able to express the things I feel. Then again, maybe not.

I thank you for taking the time to read this blog and look at the photos. I have loved all the feedback and it has been really rewarding once again to share my stories with the people I love. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have.

Until next time, take it easy. It is the best thing you can do.
El Gringo signing off

P.S. SNURRRRRRRRR (that makes sense to someone, don't worry)

Whale Shark Goddess Gets Her Due

I lied. I told a terrible, vicious lie and I hope you will all forgive me for it. Earlier, when I said that I only had one post left, I lied straight to all your faces (literally, since you were likely looking at a screen reading my words, my melodious voice ringing in your head). This is not my last post. There will be one more (this time I am telling the truth, I promise). But I had to write this post. Had to. It occurred to me today, while visiting my neighbor and dear friend Alex, that someone very important has been left out of these blogs. It seems to me that “shoutouts” or mentions in the blog have become something of a treat for people. I didn’t necessarily intend it this way, but I am glad that people recognize references I make and that they enjoy any “airtime” they might be getting. On the flipside to this are, of course, all the people who have yet to make it in. This is not an insult on those people. Au contraire. It merely means that your time has not yet come (hi Stinkydog!). But it will. Sooner or later I promise!

The reason I had to write tonight’s post is because if I did not mention this person, I feel as if a part of my “story” here on Utila would not be complete. So, without further ado, blog meet Viviana. Viviana…oh wait, you’ve already met. A lot!

Viviana is the mother to my friend Alex and a very special person. She had been staying with Alex for most of the time I have been here and has only recently left, to return again in a few short days (she needed a vacation from her vacation, who can blame her!). Most on the island know her simply as the Whale Shark Goddess, for when she was on the Old Tom they were sure to have a significant whale shark sighting. Day after day after day. After day. It got a little ridiculous actually. By the end of the “perfect week”, people on the dock were actually getting annoyed when Old Tom would return and all aboard would be whooping and gushing over their glorious encounters with the magnificent creature. I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes a time or two. But only out of jealousy.

Alex and Viviana are two wonderful women that I have been truly blessed to be able to spend time with while on the island. Being wholly “normal” people (normal is a very, very good thing on this island. It means you don’t have an addiction, besides monkey la la’s of course, and it means that you would actually function in a real society. Normal people are shockingly rare here). Ahem, let me start that sentence again. I hate continuing a sentence after a long aside. Being wholly “normal” people, I am quite certain that spending so much time with them kept me sane. And healthy. But for the fresh veggies that they so lovingly prepared I would likely be veggie free since ’93. And dead.

The three of us had many a fun night together, watching Lifetime channel movies, talking about how I should maybe, sorta, kinda start my map, or playing Settlers of Catan. Oh yes, I taught them how to play. One day I found a travel Settlers board in a random box and you better believe I snapped that up quick. One night, when a friend of theirs named Ethan was visiting (have I mentioned him? Can’t remember), we decided to break it out. Our only mistake was waiting until eight pm to start. As those who have played know, the first game often takes hours due to all the rule explaining. That being said, I am not sure I have seen two beginners (Ethan had already played before. Although, with his trade decisions, you could hardly tell. Kidding!) pick up the game faster. It was remarkable. Alex stormed her way to a victory and left the rest of us whimpering in defeat (don’t worry, I put her in her place the following evening. Several times. And boy was that one spicy enchilada). It was almost like being home, playing Settlers with the family. Those will be times and memories I look back on fondly for a long time to come.

What more do you want in life besides Settlers and Monkey La La's? Nada.

And so, you can see why Viviana needed a post. My Utila story would not be complete without it. Like I said, they are remarkable women, mother and daughter. Viviana reminds me, in a lot of ways, of what my grandmother must have been like as a mother forty years ago. Always quick with a smile, always making those around her happier and fuller. Heck, Granny, you’re still like that! Viviana, I thank you for the special times. I especially thank you for that delicious meal you cooked Ethan and I. Yuuuummmmm. I hope that you will take this post as a demonstration of how much I enjoyed spending with you, and I hope that some day we will get to dive Pinnacle together. Like Alex said today, there are a lot of Pinnacles in the world, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be here! Until then, I wanted to make sure you lived on eternally in the pages of my blog. I know it is a dream come true.

I am sad that I will miss her return, but I know that all of Utila will benefit from it. And maybe, just maybe, Alex will get to see this whale shark that we’ve been talking so much about.

Until next time,

Gringo with dear, dear friends that only occasionally make fun of his gringo-ness signing off.

Snorkel Tested, Utila Approved

Boy, you tell a few people you have a blog and all of a sudden there is serious demand for some product! Forget about having a life people, I gotta blog! Now I know why the newspaper industry is so competitive (up until the internet was invented and people realized they could get it for free! Yay internet!) Unfortunately I have been under the weather the last couple of days and blogging has been the last thing on my mind. Puking and sleeping were on the forefront, if you were curious. I blame it on too much fun, too little sleep, possibly a little too much to drink, and too much pizza that might have had something bad in it. What you are left with is Andrew in bed for four days thinking he is going to go crazy because his "cozy" room of the last month is starting to feel more like a prison cell.

But alas, I survived. Thank God. Because without me, there would be no blog, and without a blog...well I think some people would be lost. So for everyone who has been diligently waiting, I apologize for the wait and hope that this is up to your standards. I would also like to note that according the the statistics of my blogging website, the most viewed post in my blog wasn't even written by me. What up with that people?!! Alex is fantastic and all, and a much better blogger than she gives herself credit for, but I'm the gringo here! She actually speaks Spanish and has street smarts! Don't you want to hear from the bumbling American??
Anyways, back to the blogging. Got a little carried away there with the wanting love and attention thing. It's fine, many years from now my therapist will pinpoint this moment as the root of all my problems. No big deal. Carry on.

So, Halloween. Anyone who knows me knows that there are several absolute truths about Andrew. #1) If the house or kitchen is dirty for much longer three days, OCD kicks in and I quickly devolve into a human swiffer/clorox wipe . #2) If I don't get a tight twelve hours of sleep, I get cranky. And even if I get a tight twelve, but you make fun of me for sleeping more than the average panda bear, I will be cranky. And finally, #3) I hate Halloween. I hate it I hate it I hate it. If God designed a hell for me it would consist of an eternally dirty house that I can never clean because it is Halloween every single night and I am forced to dress up and prepare. Ugh. Something about dressing up just doesn't jive with me. And being social? Forget it. That's Ally's department, not mine!

Lucky me though, I have great friends on the island and between them and my snorkel test, I actually enjoyed my Halloween this year. Let's recap.

The evening started with me sitting in my room hydrating, thinking of all the excuses I could use for not wearing a costume. "I'm allergic to fun" and "It's against my religion" were the leading choices. Finally, Alex called me up to her pad and insisted that we come up with a sweet costume. We decided to go with Cookie Monster, as she had some blue shorts that matched a blue shirt I had and, well that is about the extent of it. She crafted some eyes out of cardboard and paper, slapped them on a headband and all of a sudden, I could actually pass as The Monster. The only problem was that she alternatively gagged until she couldn't breath and laughed until she couldn't breath due to the shorts she had loaned me. They were...short. I thought they were attractive but apparently chalk white, hairy thighs aren't for everyone. Huh.
Tom, another DM who lives two doors down from Alex, came over to see how likely it was that everyone at this party would be in costume. Which really meant, "can I get away with not wearing one?". The answer was no, of course, this is Utila and people would dress up on any day they could if you gave them an excuse. So Tom disappeared to talk to his fiance Aggie and returned several minutes later wearing a skirt and a bikini top. Now that's more like it!
Somehow better able to stomach me in a sarong and a bikini top, Alex loaned me one of her tops and I provided my own sarong. Kidding. She loaned me that too. A bandana from Aggie topped the outfit and we were set to go. Tom suggested a tatoo of some kind and so, as icing on the cake, we both got tramp stamps. Did I mention I hate Halloween and dressing up? Thought so.

This is me hating Halloween.

The girls were outfit-less and this would not stand, so we worked on brainstorming something. At hand was a large cardboard box, some rope, a sharpie, and... yup that's pretty much it. Clearly there is only one thing that comes out of that: terrorists. Freedom hating terrorists. PC? Maybe not. But this is Utila, PC is sooo last year.

They are every bit as tough as they look. Watch out!

Arms manufacturing.

I love you Mom.

Terrorists and innocent spring breakers, we were set to go. An hour later than "fashionably late", we strolled into the party to the collective gasp of most on lookers. On the way Alex heard some kids talking about my boobs in Spanish. I forget the word they used but loosely translated I think it meant "my what gorgeous and full breasts that man has". Or something along those lines.

The party was in full swing, with DJ Jhair (one of the IDC instructors) spinning his magic. Almost immediately I was pulled onto the dance floor and fondled a bit. A common theme throughout the night actually. Ladies have it tough!

Jhair!

"Scuba Mom" Sara

I'm thinking of making it permanent. Thoughts?

We danced, chatted, and otherwise avoided thinking about our impending doom (snorkel test) until the music was killed and everyone began gathering around the bar. It was time. I lost the bikini top in an effort to keep it clean and free from beer or anything else that might be flowing forth. Millie and Halie went one further and grabbed trash bags to put on. These would come in handy.
Millie, Halie and I were the first three up and, as Declan bellowed out welcoming remarks, we made our way to the three stools set up in front of the bar. Tom, Jessie, and James looked on with fifty to a hundred other people, most of whom had experienced the famous snorkel test at one point or another in their Utila lives (who knows, maybe some had experienced it in their non-Utila lives. Hard for me to say.)

My mentor, Maya, sat behind me and gently slipped the mask over my face, whispering advice in my ear. Her advice essentially amounted to, "if you need to breath, bite the snorkel". I wasn't sure what that had to do with anything but hey, advice is advice and I'd be stupid to turn it down. Mask on my face, I flashed my fellow test takers the "okay" sign and jammed the snorkel into my mouth. I also slipped a finger under the mask to break the seal, allowing me to breath through my nose. No need to equalize on this particular dive.
Led by Declan, the crowd chanted ARE. YOU. READY? as Maya and the others began pouring things into our snorkels. Beer was the first thing to hit my mouth, followed by what must have been rum and coke. Swallow. Breath. Swallow. Breath. Swallow. Breath.

I was dimly aware of cheering and chanting but was far too focused on the task to care much. After what seemed like a gallon and a half of various liquids I heard Maya in my ear, "you're almost done, almost done". And finally, I was. All done. No sweat. Except for that small child of beer and soda foam sitting in my stomach just begging to get out. I graciously accepted my t-shirt, high fived Halie and Millie and made my way through the crowd. Puking on people was not on my to-do list. Apparently it was on Halie's though. Immediately after spitting out her snorkel she also spit out a good portion of dinner. Thank God for that bag. Myself? I gave a burp any man would be proud of and called it good. In fact, I felt great! Considering I had just chugged beer and countless other drinks through a snorkel, I felt like a million bucks. And we were certified DM's! Official. I even have a t-shirt to prove it.

This is the woman responsible for my sidemount addiction. Meet Mary!

And so ended (more or less) a Halloween night that was, ultimately, not that bad, if not fun. Not necessarily because it was Halloween, but because I was surrounded by friends celebrating an accomplishment. From making costume's, to dancing, to doing the snorkel test, I felt happy to be around cool people celebrating the pleasures of life. While I will likely not talk to 98% of these people ever again, much less see them again, I have nonetheless spent the past couple of months with them, and they have been fun, fun times.

In a couple of days it comes to a close. I feel ready to get off the island, but not ready to stop diving or spending time with my favorite people here. Jumping in the water for the first time yesterday after being out of it for four days was like heaven. It felt so natural, so right, to be underwater. And I don't want to leave that. But I see a lot more of that in my future, so taking a short break should be okay.

Stay tuned for the final blog post, coming in the next couple of days. My diving is hardly done, and I plan on making the most of the next couple of days. Just no more snorkel tests or dressing up. I pray.

Until next time,
Divemaster Gringo signing off

Swirl My Chocolate

I am not sure that my creative juices are totally floating, but I can't seem to put off a post any longer. I know some people have been patiently waiting.
I have tried to write this blog several times and never seem to get farther than the first paragraph. Finally, Alex suggested that I just add some pictures and call it good. Duh! Why didn't I think about that? As much as you will undoubtedly miss my beautiful prose, I hope that you will enjoy some photos from my trip to Roatan and the amazing wreck Odyssey. It was a spectacular trip and yet another highlight of my time down here.

Welcome to the Odyssey wreck!

We got to penetrate the wreck. Scuba lingo can be dirty.

The Odyssey has three distinct levels and plenty to explore!

It dwarfs divers.

Argentina lives on, 100 feet down on the Odyssey wreck

The blog wouldn't be complete without a sponge picture!

The turtle that joined us for a portion of the second dive. Incredible.

I hope that you have enjoyed the mostly wordless blog post. A little change of pace can be a good thing some times.
I survived Halloween and my snorkel test last night. It was actually quite fun and I might be bringing it back as a Thanksgiving activity! Just kidding Mom! Unfortunately, tales from last night will have to wait. All the dive boats are full tomorrow though so I will have yet another day off with nothing to do but blog, so stay tuned.

Until then,
Mojo-less Gringo signing off