Pixie in Paradise

That is not a great title. We all know I won’t be settling into the desert ever again. The tropical jungles, rainforests and Caribbean Sea agreed with me. That is an understatement. My whole being came alive, heart, soul and the  rest. My skin had never looked better and that humidity takes at least ten years off your actual age and bestows a dewy glow. Of course behind that dewy glow is a bit of oppressive heat, humidity and sweat in places you didn’t think it was possible, but damn is it ever worth it. On a wildly superficial note, I’ve never had so many people come up to me on the street – or the beach – and say how much they admired my style, my clothing. They all said it was “a vibe.” All I know is that I only had a small amount of clothing with me and several swimsuits. These were all mixed and matched day after day to try to stay as cool as possible and to absorb some sunshine – but not too much. After all, I’m well aware that this close to the equator is not exactly how most of my ancestors originally ended up on this planet.

I landed in Tucson on a Thursday afternoon, I guess it’s springtime here. Every season feels the same in Central America: there’s hot, hotter, rainy and rainier. And the seasons are marked by what seafood is available, not what color the leaves on the trees are because they’re pretty much always green that close to the equator. It. Is. Glorious.

I have been in a small amount of culture shock upon returning and I am thirsty and my skin always feels dry. The gusty wind is blowing dirt everywhere and  my face is trying to break out so it’s either the water in our pipes or the lack of humidity. Either way, it’s pissing me off. I routinely add a little pink sea salt to my water because here in the desert in 8% to 35% humidity on average, plain water will not get near your body’s cells. It just gets absorbed interstitially, not intracellularly, which is where you want and need it. You will just pee it right out. The salt anchors that hydration to your body to make sure the fluid crosses into the cell membranes. It’s still a good idea to add some electrolytes in other climates too, and you have no idea how many times I gave that lecture to friends – and strangers – on my tropical walkabout. We’d be trying to survive another sweltering day and if it looked like someone was wilting (usually tourists) I made sure to force an abbreviated sodium-potassium pump science lecture on them. 

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I came right home and started downsizing immediately, throwing away or donating any item in my possession that isn’t absolutely vital or that brings me joy. I thought I did this last year before the move to Belize. I got rid of so much  stuff. The minute I walked into the house it was stifling, too many things. I had been living out of three suitcases for eight months and that’s what I want to continue doing. When I got home last week my house was suffocating me with “things.” If I hadn’t needed it for the last eight months did I really need it now? Absolutely not, with the exception of important papers and items in my tiny fire safe, and the cat. He is basically the most important thing in the house.

I began to put things in garbage bags and piles and seven days post-arrival my friend dropped off the rest of my belongings, which I had asked her to store. Those were the ones I deemed more vital as I wanted them safe at her house since I was having pet sitters come and go at times from my own house, and at times it was vacant. Plus, I truly didn’t know if I would return in  five months and I wanted to know they would be well taken care of. When these additional four gray plastic bins, two small boxes and three small hanging bags of clothes came back, I couldn’t believe how full this small casita got again. The place looked exactly like it did last March through July when I tore through everything anticipating a semi-permanent move to Belize.

As I cleaned and reorganized and rid myself of things, I plan on repacking my carry-on with items I know I will need. This time I will be even more prepared for long term travel, any move or travel to be honest. And, Pesto the cat, goes with me. He wants to retire somewhere tropical just like I do, so wherever I go long term, he goes with.

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Even though I said goodbye to the beautiful wild animals in the jungle I was living in, I came home to my very own wildlife sanctuary. It’s not the amazing Jaguar Rescue Center; it’s unofficial, unsanctioned and on my front porch. The afternoon I flew back to Tucson I discovered a dove egg next to a brand new baby bird in a small plant pot near my front door. I’ve been monitoring them every day for a week and a half, and there are now two fluffy baby dove twins, about to start flying – which is why I am aggressively monitoring Pesto’s outdoor relaxation time! He won’t  climb the plant stand to  get them but he’s an opportunist. He’d let one land on his tongue as they try to learn to fly. My sweet mom suggested I set out a shallow bowl of water for the twins’ sweet mom but I realized putting it under the pot might cause a traumatic drowning accident so I quickly ran outside and placed the water higher than the pot, so mama dove could get at it but not the kids. I’ve had friends back here in Tucson tell me that these doves are a great sign of luck and good things to come. I will take all the luck and magic I can  get!

Besides slowly starting to see a few local, friendly faces, the highlight of my first week back was jumping into an Uber with a driver named Marco. I’ve had minor trouble switching back to speaking only English. I don’t want to just speak English, I want to use what little Spanish I have and  continue stumbling my way through conversations until I’m fucking fluent! I crossed the street to get into Marco’s car. To identify me he called my name out his window. I looked up and absentmindedly said, “Si.” Marco looked like the beautiful people in the country I just left. Yup, that’s stereotyping, but my brain did a flip flop and so I answered him in Spanish before I realized what I had done. I got into his car and closed the door and without skipping a beat Marco said – in Spanish – that he didn’t expect me to speak Spanish. So there, we both did a little stereotyping. I asked him if it was because of my blonde hair and blue eyes. We laughed and continued for 15 minutes in his native language. Marco is from Nogales, Mexico, which is only 45 minutes from Tucson and he and his family live on the U.S. side of Nogales now, Nogales Arizona. He drives up to Tucson six days a week and drives for Uber. This is a brilliant way to earn money considering the lack of income he would most likely make trying to work a job closer to the border. 

Marco had only been driving in Tucson for 18 months I think he said, and he was trying to learn English online with video lessons. His English was very good and I told him I thought so but that I thought my Spanish was not so great. In response he said that I was actually doing very well and he understood everything I was saying. Well shit, that makes one of us…

In other news, exactly 365 days ago I decided to move to an island in the Caribbean, and today I’m really contemplating doing the exact same thing again! Not the same island, and not the same country, but an island in the  Caribbean. It just feels inevitable that I end up somewhere near where I just came from. In a perfect world I would just pack up my North American cat and my two Costa Rican suitcases and head right back to where I came from 12 days ago, but it’s more complicated than that. However, what if it’s not? What if I’ve found a way to sidestep the roadblocks that might keep me from living my tropical dreams? Let’s face it, if anyone can, it’s me. After what I’ve just done and been through in the last eight months one thing is clear: I am a force to be reckoned with, and I CAN do anything.