Dream catch me

Today it’s 24 days since I left Singapore but it feels like more than a lifetime ago already.

Cuba was the perfect country to get the sabbatical feeling going… The road trip with Nina and Lies was a nicely balanced mix of nature, culture, relaxing, mojito’s, fun and typical girl talks… We went on a horse back riding trip through the Cuban country side with our guide Felix, who told us overtly that he (and all Cuban men) cheats on his wife but that he’ll never leave her because he loves her to bits. He told us that Cuban men are very simple. They love and need just a few things in life: rum, gambling and women. I think that's pretty universal, some men just camouflage it a bit more... ;-) Felix took us to a cock fighting event, which I found pretty interesting (he wouldn't let me gamble though), but the other girls couldn’t really stomach it. Twice, we went to Salsa clubs in Havana, and we had lots of fun but concluded that we definitely need to take Salsa lessons if we don’t always want to end up dancing with the seedy guys who only want to rub against you. We drove through the country, spotted crabs crossing the roads and vultures eating the car-crash-crab-casualties… We observed in awe the enormous size of the breasts and bottoms of the Cuban ladies, who wear their natural gifts with such elegance. We ate peso pizza’s for 10 cents in the villages we drove through after yet again taking the wrong turn and getting lost… We had a Curious incident with a snake in the night time, which basically means that we killed it by driving over it in the middle of the night in a nature park… We sang along with Nina’s music collection and made her favourite song by Newton Faulkner “Dream Catch Me” the anthem of our trip. We visited the Che Guevarra museum and monument and still don’t agree on whether he was a tasty guy or not, but we agreed for sure that he stood for something and put his money where is mouth was (as a matter of speech of course, since he didn’t have any money because he was a Communist). Anyway, ever since I saw Miami Vice, the movie, where this chick says she will take Sonny to the place where they serve the best Mojito’s in the world and they end up riding the speedboat from Miami to Havana, I’ve always wanted to go to Cuba. Wish granted.

After 10 days we said our goodbyes, Lies went back to Holland, Nina travelled on to Guatemala and I hopped on a plane to Jamaica.

There, I chose to go for the ultimate relaxing. I went as far away as possible from the tourist area’s and ended up in this sleepy fishing village, Treasure Beach. Since it was low season, I was the only guest in the hotel and felt like I had the entire town to myself. I went on a road trip with Captain Ted, who drives a tuned up Honda with a boom boom sound system strong enough to propel the car without fuel. After a day on the road with him (waterfalls, hot pepper shrimps, rum factory, bamboo avenue) in his obstrusive red car with open roof top, open windows, lots of honking (he knows everybody in the parish) and driving 140 km an hour through the Jamaican country side, I had the most fashionable coupe cabrio of the century and I felt exhilarated. The next day he took me on a boating trip (crocodiles, pelicans, blue blue blue seas, fresh fish in a bar-restaurant built IN the sea – only to be reached by boat) and not only was I exhilarated after that but also sunburned big time. My evenings, I spent with Junior, the fruit seller and ganja (marihuana) dealer of the village. He told me his entire life story, paid for all my beers even though he doesn’t drink alcohol himself (he turned Muslim when he was living in Birmingham, UK) and gave me lots of free mango’s and oranges (for my vitamins at breakfast, so he said). We played pool and domino’s for hours and I was seriously wondering how a 60-something year old man who was smoking spliffs non-stop could still win from me at both games and have intelligent conversations at the same time… After three days and nights at Treasure Beach, Captain Ted drove me to Montego Bay at 6 am (I got there shaken, not stirred) and a few hours later I was on the plane to Curacao.

And here I am, at Chantal and Rene’s house. He’s a chef at one of the top notch restaurants here, she (an old ABN AMRO colleague) is working for a local bank. And picture this: they live ON the beach. Have you got it pictured, what it’s like to live on the beach? Well, it’s exactly like that: white sandy beach in front of their porch, hammock hanging between the palm trees, turquoise water in the bay, pub next door, dive shop next to the pub… your dream is their life. And I’m here to enjoy this for a whole week… Let me summarise the highlights of my stay here so far: (wreck) diving, sleeping in the hammock, late night conversations with Chantal and Rene, dozing off on the beach, drinking beers, staring at the moon and its reflection in the water, splashing away in the crystal clear sea, drinking some more beers, a BBQ party on the porch and of course, the European Championship.

That was a bit of culture shock actually… One moment I’m hanging out with the local youth of Treasure Beach in Jamaica, not understanding a word of the Patois they speak, but very well understanding the body language of the boys toying with the girls who are dancing and bubbling in front of them. The next moment I’m in a pub on Curacao, filled with orange people who all speak Dutch and I’m jumping up and down at every goal make, thinking Van der Sar is really really cool. And before I know it, I’ll be eating in a Michelin Star restaurant with my girlfriends in Holland. And one blink later, I’ll be trying to learn Arabic from the dive boat crew in Egypt…

If somebody has found my old identity, no need to return it to me. I think I’ve lost it somewhere between Singapore and Curacao but I’m quite alright without it, the versatility of my life gives me energy and I feel better than ever… The world is beautiful and I’m not dreaming, I’m living.

Viva la vida! (Coldplay)

Many many kisses,

xYx