A few of you have expressed interest in knowing the details of how it happened since I didn’t say anything on the first blog entry. To keep this PG, unfortunately for all of you I am going to have to skip the best part of how the baby happened. 
I’ll start from that Sunday afternoon when I went to practice with my dedicated soccer team. When I returned home as soon as I was turning the knob in the front door, Monica semi opened the door and told me to close my eyes. “Nice!” I thought to myself. “I just gotta take a quick shower and I am ready to roll.” She held my hand and guided me into our bedroom. I stepped into our love room and I could distinctly smell the roses she had placed all around. I was ready to open my eyes and put some love music, you know? Some “Let’s get it on” by Marvin Gaye, some R&B, some “Your body is calling me” by R. Kelly, you know, some of that good stuff. I was smirking, grinning like a teenager about to get some action, thinking, “Man, I must have done something good!” I could feel my body temperature rising. But nope, forget about it, I opened my eyes and the first thing I see is a basket full with a stork, baby paraphernalia, a handmade card, a champagne bottle, 2 Cigars and the golden glow of some twenty candles that did not match Monica’s smile as she told me “We are pregnant!” My reaction? You can read it here.
Delivering the Baby News
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Lauren, our really cool party animal neighbor threw an awesome Holiday party in our clubroom. Here are some of the pics I took with the new Nikon 50mm 1.8 my beloved wife got me for Christmas..
Click on the Image Below to access the Album:
Monica and I at our Building Christmas Party
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Today we left paradise. But I shall not write of the boring plane ride, or how I dreaded going back to “Reality.” No. Instead I shall write of Paradise one last time… And it is with an indistinct sadness or nostalgia, but more appreciation that I say “Farewell, my homeland.” Goodbye my paradise. Of you, we take a piece with us. A piece of your romance inspiring sunsets, of your furious rain storms, of the deep thunder that shook our lovers’ hut when your heavens spoke. Thanks for the memories. I leave you now, with a heart as heavy as your sudden sea winds. On your soft carpet made of wild green moss we ran like children, laughing, chasing each other, hiding behind the palm trees that stood like sleeping towers. Hand in hand, she and I walked your white sands, losing our bare feet in the foam of your endless waves. How can we forget? How can we not remember the straw hut where we, man and woman, laid entwined like roots, linking our bodies and souls.
Thanks for the memories, oh Little Corn Island. May your people prosper. May your sands, your bodies of translucent water, your delicate huts keep the hearts of lovers aflame and the Marriott at bay. May your beauty remain a secret, like the hidden caverns of your seas, and only found by those seeking the honey of your moon… and may you still remain a virgin paradise…
And so I close this chapter of this small island, whose moon nourished us with honey and the type of feverish love newlyweds endure. I leave with this poem written by the poets of poets, Pablo Neruda (English translation at bottom):
La noche en la isla
Toda la noche he dormido contigo
junto al mar, en la isla.
Salvaje y dulce eras entre el placer y el sueño,
entre el fuego y el agua.
Tal vez muy tarde
nuestros sueños se unieron
en lo alto o en el fondo,
arriba como ramas que un mismo viento mueve,
abajo como rojas raíces que se tocan.
Tal vez tu sueño
se separó del mío
y por el mar oscuro
me buscaba
como antes
cuando aún no existías,
cuando sin divisarte
navegué por tu lado,
y tus ojos buscaban
lo que ahora
pan, vino, amor y cólera
te doy a manos llenas
porque tú eres la copa
que esperaba los dones de mi vida.
He dormido contigo
toda la noche mientras
la oscura tierra gira
con vivos y con muertos,
y al despertar de pronto
en medio de la sombra
mi brazo rodeaba tu cintura.
Ni la noche, ni el sueño
pudieron separarnos.
He dormido contigo
y al despertar tu boca
salida de tu sueño
me dio el sabor de tierra,
de agua marina, de algas,
del fondo de tu vida,
y recibí tu beso
mojado por la aurora
como si me llegara
del mar que nos rodea.
The Night on the Island
All night I have slept with you
next to the sea, on the island.
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep,
between fire and water.
Perhaps very late
our dreams joined
at the top or at the bottom,
Up above like branches moved by a common wind,
down below like red roots that touch.
Perhaps your dream
drifted from mine
and through the dark sea
was seeking me
as before,
when you did not yet exist,
when without sighting you
I sailed by your side,
and your eyes sought
what now-
bread, wine, love, and anger-
I heap upon you
because you are the cup
that was waiting for the gifts of my life.
I have slept with you
all night long while
the dark earth spins
with the living and the dead,
and on waking suddenly
in the midst of the shadow
my arm encircled your waist.
Neither night nor sleep
could separate us.
I have slept with you
and on waking, your mouth,
come from your dream,
gave me the taste of earth,
of sea water, of seaweed,
of the depths of your life,
and I received your kiss
moistened by the dawn
as if it came to me
from the sea that surrounds us.
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Today was our final day in Little Corn, Paradise. We woke up exhausted, feeling a bit sick and with a thick humid air from all the wet clothes, that made me feel claustrophobic. I looked outside our very tiny window and it was raining. It was the kind of slow, cold rain that silenced the birds and would have been perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon somewhere in the US; but not today, not for our last morning in paradise. I had read previously on the internet that when it rains, the Pangas (the little boats) that carry us over to Big Corn don’t operate. This is a lie. From what I heard from the locals, there has to be a Hurricane in order for them to not operate. We hurried to get ready and ran to the Panga that was already boarding. And just like that, we left Paradise. In reality, we were sad to leave, but ready. The trips across the jungle and the diving really took a toll on us, physically. We were tired and burnt out.
Here’s a brief recap of our experience in Paradise, by the numbers:
• 7: trips taken across the mosquito battlefields of the jungle
• 4: times getting lost(always on the way back to Derek’s Place)
• 5: total hours lost.
• 2: Impromptu sunset walks along the beach (While lost)
• 9: Combined dives we took.
• 7: Sharks seen
• 407: minutes total time underwater (combined)
• 1: (and first) underwater fight with the wife
• 1: very unsuccessful “fishing expedition from hell” where I almost threw up my entire stomach
• 8”: size of biggest fish caught during above mentioned failed expedition
• 3: Beaches visited
• 1/2: Population of Island that has Downs as last name.
• 0 Regrets!
When we got to Big Corn Island, we took a taxi directly to Casa Canada. There we were greeted by Don once again. We took a room and man, it was sooooo nice! It looked even nicer since we were used to our humble love shack made of straw and wood. We were back to civilization! Satellite TV! A refrigerator! King sized bed! A/C!!! Woohoo! And even some leather couches! The first thing we did was take a HOT shower and then pass out like we hadn’t slept in days. If little corn had these types of accommodations, it would be perfect; but then again, it wouldn’t feel like that raw, virgin island that it is. Casa Canada is possibly the best place to stay at in Big Corn Island. It has plenty of beautiful details that make it a pleasant stay. It’s very clean and very well kept.
One of the many little statues that adorned Casa Canada
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Sometime in the middle of the night, as I was deep asleep, I felt a strange sensation. I felt a tumble, a rumbling, like that of a small earthquake, as if the bed was shaking. And then I felt like something punched my stomach! I squirmed, folded in pain. I opened my eyes and searched for an offender in the darkness of our Love Shack, but there was no one around. Then I felt it again. I realized that the seismic trembling was going on in my stomach. There was a battle that was being fought. The epic battle of good against evil (bacteria, that is) was taking place in the middle of the night and my sleep was the unfortunate collateral damage. My stomach was aching and it was loud. It sounded like there was a microwar being fought with microcannons and somewhere my antivirus were being ambushed by evil invading forces. My stomach was trying to repel the attack and its brutal enemies that were trying to take over. So, I immediately got up and ran outside, ran as fast as I could, in the middle of the cloudless dark night, going only by instinct towards where I knew the bathroom was located. And I guess my immune system repelled the first huge wave of attack, if you know what I mean. After a long while, I dragged myself back to the hut. My stomach was hurting still. I laid down for a couple of minutes and repeated the previous scene over and over all night long! But each time, I felt weaker and weaker. Ouch! Monica would sympathetically groan what sounded like “Are you OK baby?” and go back to sleep.
When light came over the island I felt very weak. I felt hot, feverish almost and cold at the same time. I shivered at times. I had a headache and was very nauseous. I felt terrible. I couldn’t sleep because my head felt it was going to burst. My body was aching; it was a cold empty pain that settled in my bones. And that pain that felt like a tear in my intestines, as if something had scratched it. What do I have? I asked myself. For a moment there I thought I had Dengue Fever, Yellow Fever, Cholera, Malaria or one of those diseases that only tourists pick up in the jungle. What is going?? Did I get bit by a mosquito? Monica answered me: “I told you not to eat that fruit from the floor! Yup, I remember clearly, ‘Don’t eat that’ I told you, but no, you didn’t want to listen!” She was right. It must have been that fruit that was succulent, ripe and juicy. As a married man, I should have said “Yes, Dear.” As a result of my whim, I was paying the price. I laid there, maybe 10 lbs lighter and hurting.
I tried many times to fall back asleep but I could only sleep 15 to 20 minutes at a time. I would wake whenever my stomach felt that a twisted hot metal was moving within or when I would move in my sleep and thus my body reacted with pain. Monica would come wake me often, which didn’t make sense to me. She would wake me to find out if I was feeling better or resting comfortably. Argh! Anna , the owner, gave me some burnt toast, boiled rice and ginger tea: a homemade remedy. I still felt bad. Monica then grabbed that plant that our former guide said was a miracle plant and put it on my head. It felt cool and like it was absorbing the heat from my forehead. I was trying to get up because we were supposed to go the Dolphin Dive Shop to go on our dive. But I knew that I wasn’t going to make it across the jungle with that volcanic trembling in my stomach or have enough strength underwater. I was hating life. I was even more disappointed when I was later told that the dive team went to a dive spot and saw a pod of dolphins swimming around! Man, I am still upset thinking about it. It’s one thing seeing dolphins in an enclosed environment, but how ideal, how magnificent would it have been seeing them in the wild.
Being sick in paradise sucks!
And so, I got back to my aches and laid in bed for hours and went into a deep sweaty sleep. It turns out that while I was asleep, Monica went to take a shower. The shower’s here weren’t a real shower. They were in an enclosed space with no ceiling or running water. There was a barrel full of water and a bowl. Well, while Monica was taking her peaceful shower she encountered a pervert peeping in on her! When she told me that, I was livid with anger! Forget the stomach sickness, forget the dashing to the Throne, forget the bursting headache, I was just feeling anger! I asked her how she found out she was been peeped on and she explained that the culprit had climbed a tree and since there was no ceiling, everything was visible from the tree. And to make matters worse, this pervert didn’t even try to hide, instead started whistling at her! She didn’t know where it was coming from until she looked up. She told me that she felt violated and immediately wrapped herself in a towel and came to our Love Shack, waking me up. I got up and went outside with blood boiling, stomach raging and met face to face with this perv! I stood there watching. The bastard was casually walking towards me like nothing had happened. And then whistled when Monica came out the Love Shack. I thought to myself, “Oh man, this is it. Is paradise lost? First, I get sick and now this! I get disrespected by a parrot!” Monica was cracking up. She got me. But I warned her that the parrot was going to pay! That I wanted fried chicken for dinner! Soon afterwards, I decided to go back to bed and quickly feel back asleep.
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