Sunday, November 18, 2007

Day 17 “Time in a Coconut”

Today seemed as if were the most perfect day yet, sunny but not crazy hot, no rain, no beach sales men, just my husband and I enjoying life together. The sand-white and hot, the water-warm and shallow and the cocktails were cold and wet. We saw the real Thailand, naked in it’s natural beauty. Thai massages in the beach front spa opened the day and were followed by trips between the ocean and the pool and then back again. Thanks to the advice of my new sister-in-law and mother-in-law, we saw Thailand with open eyes. We giggled at everything but not enough to make people look. We existed in own little world as if we were the only ones there, and enjoyed the space. As evening neared, boats on the water made black silhouettes on the red-orange water colored sky.

Needing nourishment, and some non-swimming time, we went the only place we could. Our resort, where they had a large spread of food I wasn’t tired of eating. The thing that looked the best were the fresh kabobs made with large chunks of meat, onions, peppers, and a cob of corn; grilled over an open fire served with unlimited salad bar. We pointed out our kabobs, then pointed out our table and the waiter seemed to understand. The table we had chosen was right on the waters edge. It seemed that it had been a popular table and just turned because it lacked silverware. We didn’t care, someone would bring us some soon. None came and we overcome by hunger, so we picked with our fingers and joked about it. Sappy music played somewhere in the background, but it added to the high we were feeling off each other. I heard a few familiar notes and almost started to cry. After pointing out that it was Time in a Bottle: the first song we danced to at our wedding, we jumped into the sand and began to dance again. People around us watched with curiosity, but we didn’t care. If we could dance in front of our family perfectly, we surely could half ass it in front of strangers we would never see again. The magic was accented by a lightening storm in the distant sea. I don’t know it was the thunder or the magic between us, but the ground shook. The moment ended and left us crying tears of happiness. Back to our table, still with no silverware, we finished up the last of our salad. A guy that spoke no English delivered hot kabobs that smelled slightly of campfire. So asking about the silverware was out of the question. We just kept going, using our hands to eat our much deserved dinner; I mean that’s how to eat bbq right?

Thanks Catia!

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