Whereas right now I am not feeling particularly clever and thoughtful, I had a few good thoughts today:
1. I wish French Polynesia had been conquered by the Spanish and not the French: ju ne parle pas francais.
2. I got hit in the face by flying fish today.
3. Feliz dia de San Patricio!
4. The first person to correctly guess the number of days it takes us to sail from Mexico to the Marquesas gets bought a drink by me the next time I see them.
I love speaking Spanish. Whereas I am nowhere near fluent, I can communicate well in the language. Sometimes I find myself in a tricky situation and it is extremely helpful to be able to verbalize what it is I want or need. My French is not so good. We got a book on French and I have been practicing, but the phrase that I know best is, "I do not speak French." I think its a good start. My Tahitian is not so hot either. My biggest concern is to learn how to say, "Hello, may I surf with you." I hope that comes in handy.
Did you know that a flying fish can fly so fast, that if it smacks into the side of a boat going full speed, it can explode? Yes, my new biggest phobia is of flying fish. Ok, maybe not quite. But they are scary. Especially surfing in the middle of a huge school of them. Today I was surfing Punta Burros-- head high sets with a bit of wind chop on it, but not too crowded, and fun. Every time a wave broke a bunch of these fish would fly out the back of the wave. They kind of skim the surface, but are most definitely airborne. At one point, when a set came, I found myself paddling in a school of them. I started flailing my arms and legs and screaming (a little bit). I think people thought I was screaming because there was a set coming that I was going to take on the head, but really it was because these nasty little creatures were flopping around me. As far as I am concerned, if one grazes my faces I can claim that I got hit in the face by a flying fish. Bastards.
And then, el dia de San Patricio. You wouldn't think that St. Patrick's day would be big in Mexico, but Irish or not, Catholic or not, it is a great excuse to go out and party. A few friends and I went to a bar that had a big stage with a band that was kind of Sublime-esque, semi-generic, reggae rock, Slightly Stoopid and Expendables wanna-be's, and it was fun. People of all ages, both Mexican and Gringo, dancing and having a good time. In all honesty, besides drinking beer on the street and eating tacos with fresh made tortillas, the best part of my night was jumping on a trampoline castle next to the stage. This thing was 4 trampolines, two stacked on top of each other, connected to two more, and hardly structurally sound. But the three little girls and I who were jumping did not seem to mind. This is Mexico. The rules are a little more relaxed around here.
Our plan is to leave Mexico this coming Tuesday. I am going to take bets as to how long it will take us to get from Punta de Mita to the Marquesas. I will buy a drink for the first person to guess correctly, the next time I see them. Ready? Go!