Misdirected Adventure: To begin, our flight got delayed leaving JFK.  You have to laugh at what a typical start to a trip that must be.  We missed our connection to Costa Rica, but got a few hours in Miami instead. 

Cruising in a cab I tried to take in as much as possible (a theme for this trip). Through the heavy, warm air it was hard to believe we were still in the US.  Lunch on South Beach with all the people parading by, wearing their own bodies with comfort and sometimes blatant pride in all their shapes, ages, colors, and personal styles.  The place called to me to parade too, to shed my own bodily shyness and add my strut to the others.  Sadly time was not on my side, but lunch provided me with a window to another place to one day return.

Arrival: On the airport floor waiting for our ride, I felt comfortable leaning against my bag, reading my New Yorker, even in an odd place for me.  Huge, lazy fans provided a breeze.  No chairs or food. Sometimes the only women.  Drivers waiting for passengers. Men with large guns.  Clean and Quiet as can be.  A long, uneventful period.

Our driver used to work for the resort we stayed at, but now for the shuttle company, a job he seemed to enjoy, though I’m not sure he would tell us otherwise.  We talked of his family, 9 brothers and sisters living in different homes from different families, all grown up now.  He lives with his mother and teenage son, with another teenage daughter living with her mother.  Both children are doing extremely well in school and this is a point of great pride, along with his mother’s “latin” cooking.

Day 2: An early morning of good salt water and boat sunning with a good breeze, we didn’t do much of the snorkeling.  Sitting on the vast, even water it was hard to imagine where this land came from the way the rocky mass rose abruptly from the water.  I never knew so many shades of brown and tan.  Radiating its own heat not from the sun, but from land.  

The resort was pool, sun, and sunscreen with aggressive iguanas coming out for lunch time.  Walks on the beach with locals drawn by the tourists to sell their wares and massages, collecting shells, and weddings.  The best lunch of ceviche to the point that we didn’t want to share.  Telling lots of people about a special museum and trying to explain what exactly I “do” in New York.

I met a woman who believes in my life and the person I am trying to be, but naturally am.  She has rock solid beliefs and desires mostly for others to find the causes that make living worth it.  In her youth she was arrested for protesting against war.  The inspiration was mutual between us.