Asthma Connection

 I got to San Pedro, not knowing if all the rumours were true, but hoping to have a super fun last night. I love Caye Caulker, but it’s mellow and I wanted a wild last night. Dance without abandon and all…

I arrived on Ambegris Caye and went to my hotel – only stupid Tomas’s Hotel claimed they had no reservation for me. Luckily, I got a room at Pedros’s and bargained the price down. A shower and a backpack reorganization later, I went to the bar at Pedro’s, asked directions and got two guys offering to walk into town with me. They pointed out various hot spots, things to do, and we got dinner today, that was def pricier than Caye Caulker. We headed out for a drink.

They were right, I thought, shortly after we got to the bar. It was very touristy, full of Americans, older Americans. Maybe if I was middle aged and married with 2.3 kids living on a street with geometrically arranged shrubs, I would fit in. But I didn’t. The two older guys I was with were different, party guys, nice. But still, where are my backpackers, my peers? There was an awful cover band the crowd loved and my asthma bothered me. I coughed, I coughed, I coughed.

I took a walk on the beach and realized that if I’m at the beach, it can’t be that bad. I felt the sand in my toes, heard the water lapping up, and felt happy.

I headed back, had some English guys tell me how in England, guys aren’t friends with women and the guy bought me a drink. Then he left to flirt with some woman, and I told the guys I came with that I felt like crap – my asthma was really bothering me. There wasn’t heaps of smoke, but I was so sensitive that I just needed to get out of there.

I was walking when I suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. A guy in a golf cart (what people drive) asked if I needed help. I asked him where Pedro’s was, and he offered me a ride. I hopped in. “I was out, but I had to go home to get my inhaler. I have asthma – all the smoke bothers me,” Ulysses told me. I covered my mouth with my hand – what a bizarre coincidence! We ended up chatting, and I somehow ended up going back out with him to a much less smoky place. New friends, new possibilities - I love that about traveling. You barely know someone but put your trust in them because good things are to come, for sure!

1755 was a lot of fun. All of his friends were super nice, and welcomed the new friend to their group, and one guy was apparently a billionaire. He was the same as everyone, nice, except because of him, we got to ask the dj to play whatever songs – because apparently, he has that kind of clout.

We danced in the lounge, which had a sand floor – sand between our toes, so beautiful. I flung my arms in the air, dancing into oblivion, knowing that when I returned, I wouldn’t be able to hear the same music. Sometimes I danced alone, sometimes with new friends, sometimes with strangers. It was all the same: pure happiness.

I sang in Spanish. We danced. Drinks were bought, handed to me without even asking. Another pantyripper, sure. (That’s Belizian for pineapple and coconut rum.) And the night went on.

When 1755 closed, we headed to Jaguar. Much better now, the dance floor was packed. We danced. There were seven of us, one who was considered “heartbroken” – he and his girlfriend had broken up in November and he was still utterly depressed, even on a fun night like this. We talked a bit about our recent breakups, about the healing process. I hugged him and he seemed full of sadness, in his hug and in his eyes when I pulled away.

It got late, later. 3:30. Ulysses wanted to go swimming in the ocean or his pool, which sounded fun – but I was tired. I had to get up early for the water taxi to Belize City so I could make my flight. We hugged, I hopped out of the orange golf cart, and passed out, oversleeping.

An interesting last night. A fun one. Was it meaningful? Does everything have to be meaningful? I think it was so fun, met some cool new peeps, it was a nice way to close out my trip, dancing on the beach to music people don’t know back home – but maybe I can help make “Cuando Cuando Es” popular when I return.