The Cusp

The Cusp (a reprint of a blog right after my 1st Caribbean Cruise)
Thursday, October 05, 2006 4:05 PM

Good morning silence, good morning to myself....

I am mellow today on the outside, but inside my soul and spirit are active, potential energy building as we speak, filling me with an anticipation of something. I am full, not drained, so my spirit seeks an outlet to pour out this abundance of thought and experience. My trip afforded me several luxuries: rest, realization, and reflection.

I saw the Diaspora of my people living in various conditions, from Haitian dancers who entertain vacationers looking to experience an "exotic cultural experience", to Jamaican coffee shop owners sharing their mama's strawberry cheesecake and drinking otaheite juice (the Jamaican apple). I sat up front with our Mestizo tour guide in Cozumel telling us about the living conditions of the locals and his goals of graduating from the university the following year with a degree in economics, all the while getting to practice the little Spanish I remember from college courses and getting familiar with my new second language. I recognized the echoes of basic human needs of water, food, and shelter, and felt closer to the world at large, unified under the premise that we all just want decent lives for ourselves and our seed, and a sense that we have accomplished something in this life before we transition into eternity.

So many names and faces to remember beginning with Rosen from Bulgaria, our stateroom attendant, who left our towels shaped in turtles, lobsters, and monkeys, looking "cool" sporting a pair of sun glasses we left on the vanity. He was the employee of the year for this ship and we were blessed to have him.

We laughed with Jean-Max on the beaches of Labadee as he explained to us his exasperation with tourists and their questions, mostly "white Americans" who seemed to be on a hunt for anything that looked like something on the beach. Jean-Max explained to us that while he worked on beach patrol he was not the creator of Haiti, or its beaches, or it's beach creatures and didn't have the monopoly on the knowledge of each item a tourist picked up on the beach like people seemed to think. And while we stood there, a Caucasian gentleman approached him, and sure enough, inquired of him as to his "find" on the beach, what it was exactly and whether it was alive. And we, the knowing bystanders, muffled our giggles long enough until the gentleman retreated to the shoreline to keep finding things. Jean-Max laughed easily, shook his head, and continued telling us about the village not to far from where we were standing. As we left, he did something totally unexpected. He says, "I have something for you" and proceeds to reach into his back pack and retrieves two necklaces and two bracelets and offers them to us as gifts for conversation and fellowship. I can still see his smile and can't remember the phrase he taught us (but I have it written down in my journal, of course) as a greeting to his fellow countrymen. He said when we come back, ask for him. "Everyone here knows me," he says. "They will lead you to me when you come back." So I will remember him.

Costel, from Romania, our assistant server who flirted with me each time I came to the dinning room and wouldn't allow me to leave the ship without getting a hug (I threw in a kiss on the cheek for giggles and blushes), was another welcoming face. He knew about all forms of entertainment, remembered movies that I once loved but had forgotten, and had us on the floor laughing as he recited verbatim scenes from Martin Lawrence's "Big Mama's House," though he stated Cedric the Entertainer was his favorite comedian. He sparked the interest of my family and friends when I ordered a latte one evening after dinner. Upon returning with my latte, he informed me that he had prepared the latte himself because he knew they would not give it the care that he would like for "my latte" to have. One of the family friends related his comment to Alicia Key's comment during the song "You Don't Know My Name" lyrics:

I always use some milk and cream for you, cause...I think you're kinda sweet.

So from that day forward, they egged him on. And he never failed to provide gracious comments whenever he was around.

Jefferson and Jason (St. Martin and Jamaica) who we had plenty of conversations with all over the ship, on the island, a one chance (if you believe in chance) meeting just before we left the ship Sunday morning, the stories of home and how they ended up on the ship.

Then we have the group from Indianapolis, the brothers from Queens, Caucasian guy from Jacksonville, the Hispanic guy from Houston, Norma in Cozumel, the guy in Cozumel who likes piernas and culos, Mr. Craig from Detroit who taught us how to play Texas Hold 'Em in 5 minutes, the man who suffered defeat to my female counterpart on the rock climbing wall, Valerie on deck 7, Kieivan on deck 9, and a whole host of other characters on that we passed daily while enjoying the luxuries of vacation.

I come home to silence and loudness, hustle and bustle, life as usual but yet not the usual life. I guess I'll close by saying this: everyone should go on vacation, a real vacation, at some point in life.

I'm at the cusp. After 7 days at sea, fighting the sting of salt water in my eyes long enough that I can actually see the bright, sparkling, alive water, the sandy beaches, and the blue skies, I have returned refreshed and clean. I don't know what I'm on the edge of, but I'm looking forward to it.