A transient friendship

by Florence Falkiner (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

I didn't expect to find Belize

I stood on the oily ferry as we reached the island of Caye Caulker. I met the green eyes of a Chilean man with a barbed wire tattoo as we waited to step off. I rolled my eyes at the heat and the long line of people waiting to get off, he smiled in acknowledgement. I had to pay the travel agency for the next day’s tour before the ATM shut, so I had no time to be making friends. After I stepped off, I ran along the sandy streets to the ATM, tucking sweat soaked strands of hair under my typical tourist cap. Arriving at the ATM, I didn’t have enough money in my account. I ran to the sweaty hostel which was unfortunately called ‘Dirty Mcnasties’ which I’d chosen because it had free kayaks. I used the intermittent WIFI to transfer money into my account then ran back to the ATM to get the money. My running shoes thumped along the ground. Men and women were sitting on tables enjoying the ambience as I ran around like a lost penguin. “Hey you, Big Bottom, slow down”. A local man called out. I looked around and realized he was talking to me, Big Bottom. Let’s just say that after backpacking through Guatemala for a month, I had been enjoying the rice and beer a little too much. “Hey youuu, white girl, why you always runnin? Be on island time.” Another said. “Oh, ok, I’m cured, thanks!” I responded. We all laughed. After eventually paying the tour company, I sat down for a much needed beer at the hostel. I noticed the green eyes again. “Was that you running around the island looking lost?” He asked. “Guilty.” He introduced himself as a Vicente, a Chilean dentist who was also traveling alone. “Want to grab a kayak and watch the sunset?” I asked. “Sure” he responded. We paddled out past the mangroves in the kayak and drank Belikins while the sun danced in the water. We jumped off the jetty into the still warm water, the moon a pale plate in the sky. After travelling alone for a month, I found I couldn’t’ stop talking. “Mum leant this sarong to me for this big trip, it’s quite significant because I wore it aged four when I was dressed as Joseph for the nativity play. It was the highlight of my acting career, but it took four days for my moustache to come off.” I trailed off when realised that I’d been rambling and that he’d stopped listening. We swam some more as phosphorescent plankton lit up around us, dancing around our bodies. We ate chimole with rice and hot sauce on the side and went out dancing until four in the morning. While dancing to Danza Kudoro, I realized that at some point in the night that I’d misplaced the sarong. “My sarong! Where’ve I put it?” I exclaimed. “Oh no, not the twenty five year old sarong that your mum leant you for the nativity play when you played Joseph aged four.” He said. We laughed. I ran back to the pier and grabbed the sarong, we both headed to our separate dorm rooms and tacitly acknowledged that there was no need to stay in contact. Meeting someone while travelling is an opportunity for you to share an experience and learn something new, like the process of becoming a dentist in Chile. I realised that like grains of sand through a sieve, not all travel friends have to stay with you forever. It had been a while since I’d had a proper shower, bone tired in the freezing water, I shaved every superfluous hair on my body. After a quick nap in my sweaty hostel bed, I got on the sailing boat and looked down at my legs. “Oh my god, I’ve completely shaved one leg and left the other one furry... at least I can pretend I’m snuggling up next to a man.” I remarked out loud. The entire boat laughed and the German girl next to me introduced herself as Katya. We sailed off to a new adventure in the turquoise waters.