Call for Pizza

Let’s try uploading that picture of the divemaster house again – it really has to be seen to get a feel for the vibe around here…

It didn’t take me long to wade into the wave of island life here. I haven’t worn shoes for a week and my skin has turned shades I never knew it had the guts to bare. I’ve given up on waiting for the one shower in the Divemaster house, and have found that washing down with the boat hose a few times a day works just as swell. Every day before the morning dive, I make my way to a local shop for my daily oatmeal-bananna liquado (ice, whole milk, 1 bananna, oatmeal and sugar — HEAVENLY). Yup. I’m feeeling pretty local.

Finished my First Aid course this week and I’m in the process of becoming a “certified” Rescue Diver. “Are you okay? I’m emergency trained. I can help you. Someone call for pizza!” (In practice, we call for pie instead of help, to avoid mistaken cases of emergency.) I remember learning a bunch of this stuff in high school, but it’s hard to appreciate the value when you’re 16 and your buddy is slipping the dummy the tongue. Extremely valuable information that I feel SO much for comfortable having in the know. I highly recommend hittin’ pause in the tape of daily life to take the course (only a half day, $50 buck course at your local Community College). And maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll even get some tongue back.

A friend from the island was robbed and shot this week on a trip to the mainland (La Ceiba). He died yesterday. Lots of those big “value of life” questions flying through my head these last few days. (Another recommendation — know your blood type. Immediate knowledge of such critcal information could come in real handy someday — might even save a life. So ask Mom (she always knows that stuff) or get a blood test next time you see ‘Doc, and save yourself the hassle of figuring it out on the countdown-clock of life. I’m A positive. Now I know.) Gettin’ harder and harder to keep reassuring my parents that it’s “safe” down here. But I signed the bottom of that life-contract, accepting all those risks in the fine print, in tradeoff for getting to ride the rollarcoaster. I don’t have time to wait in line. And when I get to the top, my arms better be in the air.

You are missed Gal.

Solbeam, D.M.

Wondering where in the world, Sol from San Diego is?

*gives forearm a few slaps*

STILL in Utila! Addicted, I’m afraid to say.

Addicted to what? Addicted to Sea Turtles and Spotted Eagle Rays, Queen Angel fish and Green Moray Eels, to Sea Fans and Jellyfish *sans the stinging ones – ouch*, to the irredesent squid and octopus, to Lobster and Shrimp hidden under coral and in sponges, to firework shows of bioluminessence, to schools of squealing dolphins racing our boat and to the chance that I just might, one of these days, have the great pleasure of making aquaintence with a Whale Shark.

When I grow up, I wanna be a Dive Master! Or at least in the next 6-8 weeks, I wanna train to be one.

Yup. I’m back in school: 6-8 weeks of daily diving in coordination with physical tests and intensive study of the Physics, Physiology, Mechanics, Equipment, Instruction and Safety of underwater diving — text books and tests to boot! When I’m done, I get a pretty little card with my picture on it that allows me to Dive Master *does a COOLER title exist?* essentially anywhere in the world. And since the ol’ travel itinerary includes both Thailand and Australia, dive hot spots of the world, Utila will hardly be the last of Sol’s Scuba diving adventures. *laughs* My 100k private school, business education sure seems to be coming in handy these days….

*couldn’t upload picture*

Anyway….that *points above to the picture* is my new home, and as you may have guessed, it floats *literally* on the vibes of Bob and Lenny 24/7. And this *points to picture below*, is one of my fellow DMTs (“Dive Master Trainee” – gettin’ down wid da scuba lingo) and me, last night, before I attended my first-ever Full Moon Party. It only takes a few turn tables and a sand patch to congregate the island for some good ol’ sweaty and sand-fly-slappin’ fun!

One of the perks of my new dive shop life? Access to an offline computer! Yippee-ki-eh Scuba Diver! So you’ll be hearing a little bit more from me again – if you haven’t deserted me in all my overwater-world negligence.

Gotta swim, my rescue course starts tomorrow and I’ve got some books to crack!

Getting Narked

*****

Yesterday, me, a Canadian, two Aussies and two Austrians laid our bodies on a sandy patch at the end of the sand airplane landing strip and screamed mad profanities as the plane landed feet over our heads. The things people will do for entertainment when your world lacks television, eh?

*****

Nitrogen Narcosis: The intoxicating effect nitrogen produces when you breath it underwater (of which the exact cause still eludes physiologists). Symptoms include: stuporous behaviour, impaired attention, slow thinking, inappropriate behavior, euphoria and elation, poor judgement and short term memory loss. Divers are likely to first notice narcosis around 80 feet. Sol dives 100 ft today. The question remains, will she get narked? She secretly hopes so. Refer back to the question of island entertainment above.

*****

I think I’m the only American on this island. The “Stupid American” game has evolved to an entirely new level. Now it goes a little like this, “I met an American once who couldn’t point on a map to where they lived!”, “Oh yeah? Well I met an American once who asked what language we speak in Australia!”, “No Wait! I’ve got a better one! Once I met an American who…..

*groans and kicks dust*

*****

Self Control: As defined by Sol

Self control is the ability to resist every urge to so much as blow on the twenty mosquito (or sandfly) bites you have simultaneously received between the trip to the communal bathroom and your bedroom sans repellent. One may easily identify those travelers who have not yet learned the virtue of self control as they are scarlet-lettered with infected and pussing welts covering their limbs. Sol’s official response to this condition: “Ew.”

I’m still alive…just super busy with dive training. Today I start my advanced class, and tomorrow I’ll be taking my first shipwreck dive and night dive! I’m actually considering taking the whole dive master course….but I’m completely in limbo on this one still. It would be a nice way to make a living traveling the world though, eh? Island hopping, finding temp work at dive shops leading fun dives of rich American tourists, and then pocketing their fat tips to get me to the next island…yeah. Not so bad. But it would take me two months to complete the course…and the commit-phobe in me is grimacing. After all, Ecuador keeps winking at me and kicking the back of my chair.

*kicks computer* Okay…this one won’t let me upload pictures either. That’s okay….I’ve got five chapters to read this afternoon and some research on the neighboring islands to do!

*puts regulator in mouth*

*deflates her BCD*

*equalizes*

*head disappears underwater*

*gives the underwater “OK” sign*

I’m ALIVE!

…and I’m PADI Certified!

That means I’ve completed the open water course and can legally dive up to 18 meters. I start the advanced course this weekend. I have SO much to say, but unfortunately, it took me ten minutes just to pull the Blogger site up and it will be a plain MIRACLE if I can get A picture uploaded.

I’m trying, trying, trying right now as I blog….

*sends mental pushes at this sad little computer and it’s wimpy little modem*

Shit! I have to go, and this worthless hour cost me my food and room budget for two days.

*kicks dust*

I’ll try again tomorrow….

*one last push…..*

My Dive Team “Before” Picture

Please publish…please publish…please publish….

Dear Reader,

By the time you read this, I´ll be scrunched in the corner of a hot and dirty chicken bus somewhere in between Guatemala and Honduras. Chapter 4 of “The Adventures of Travel Merry Sol” opens at the plumber-crack of dawn (4am) tomorrow, where upon I´ll be wandering the calles and avenidas of Guatemala City in search of the first of a sequence of busses, shuttles, taxis and boats that will *eventually* land Sol in the Bay Islands of Honduras.

(Side note: I just found out that they are, right this minute, filming the upcoming series of “Temptation Island” on one of the islands I´m going to. The spy in me is getting all kinds of ideas about utilizing that 16x zoom on my new cam to blow out the results of the show before it airs…..ahhh…..double-O-Sol…I´m liking it…. )

Annnnnnyway. Here´s the dirty down low: Although the islands are the cheapest place in the world to get dive certification (160 bucks, included 5 days of instruction, multiple fun dives AND hotel), the same 160 bucks will only buy me 10 hours in the Internet Cafe.Yup. $15 dollars and HOUR. SO….unfortunately, I will not be replying to any e-mails with less than 7.9 on the response-richter scale (for example, my cat dying would be an 8.2). I will, however, be posting pictures in the following album — so give it a check in a week. Assuming I make it alive to Utila, there will be pictures there:

Honduras Photo Album

I´ll be blogging too when time and budget permits, of course, but I´ll be on the road for the next few days, so…*waves*

cya in Utila!