Barú

I awake to the sounds of birds crying out to one another. A thin layer of sweat and salt on my skin. As I sit up I glance through the mesh of our tent And see the persistent crashes of the ocean.  a thick gray fog seperates myself and the blue sky above me. I roll over, and start thinking about the days that had already passed on the island. Without meaning to, I begin translating my thoughts into spanish. I reach for the dictionary and begin looking up the words I should have known the night before while I conversed in my second language with some friendly Argentinian travelers. Yet somewhere between spanish class and the campfire on Barú the words got lost.
I decide to go get some fresh water from the man down the beach who sells it through a hose. As I walk people greet me as if they remember my face from the days I've spent on the island. I reach the water man and crouch down to fill up my gallon tub of what was once coca cola. I give the man 500 pesos, about 20 cents, and hope that my remaining 200 will be enough for a small cup of Cafè Negro on my way back.  I find a man who carries the signature multicolored canteens and ask Cauntos Pesos. I am 200 pesos short of the best coffee I have ever tasted. I begin to walk away, a different man yells after me "Cauntos tienes". I show him my hand filled with 3 coins and he places a forth one in my hand. I ask "Si?" He nods, "gracias señor" and I get my tiny cup of the best coffee I have ever tasted. I sit and drink it as I look out at the sea as she makes sweat and soft love to the sand, who cannot commit. The actions of the man make me think, he gave a stranger something for nothing in return. Someone who looks different, speaks differently, and is from a different part of the world. It puts a smile on my face to know we may be different, but we are still ultimately in the same big family.
I finish my coffee and walk back down the beach. People greet me "Buenas" "Buenas dias" "Buen Dia". The stray dogs sleep on the beach and I walk home to my sand filled tent holding my coca cola bottle. I walk by the fat grumpy man whom I befriended yesterday when I helped him sell things to the gringos who don't speak any spanish. He waves to me, I say "Buenas" and he replies "Dias".
I sit down in a green plastic chair and the fat man begins to rake up the garbage and leaves that have accumulated since yesterday morning.
The sun inches higher slowly and starts to burn off the layer of gray from early so the water and the sky begin to match as usual. The daily visitors are  arriving,, some running by, some waking sleepily, others already swimming in the early morning sun.
Life seems sweat here in this beautiful and peaceful. The landscape is breathtaking and the people incredibly kind. Barú, an island worth visiting.