Ciao Galapagos – Te amo!

November 14th, 2007 by Danielle Denis-Lalonde

Ok, so Im picking up where I left off on my last entry…

Yes, many great nights were spent at the local Jatun Sacha ¨establishment¨. Typically, the group heads to the bar every Monday and Wednesday night, because that´s when new volunteers arrive (which is always a big deal involving lots of speculation about where they might be from or what they might look like. Unfortunately for the guys, the rumours of 3 ¨hot Russian chicks never materialized).

We play some pool (and here I have to thank my many male friends who have helped me hone my table skills over the years), watch movies, eat chocolate, drink beer and Cuba Libres (Rum & Coke) and play drinking games. Ahh yes, the drinking games. From ¨Ring of Fire¨, to ¨Piff Puff¨ and ¨Bullshit¨…so much fun!!

It´s funny because my sister and I started off with the intention of avoiding alcohol during this entire trip. We don´t drink much at home (in recent times anyways), and are staunch believers that you don´t need to drink to have a good time. That belief hasn´t changed, but at some point in our second week here, our attitude did. I can´t quite explain it, but I just seemed to relax a bit, to ¨let go¨ (without going to excess, which was never my style anyways).

So that was Tuesday.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent in the nursery again, then on Friday we all headed into town. We hiked to Frigate Bird Hill, soaking in the amazing views (which to me were more spectacular than the Frigate Birds, which I´d gotten quite used to seeing everywhere anyways). I pulled ahead of the group and found myself on a rocky cliff looking out over the ocean and nearby islands. Being one to consistently ignore things like guardrails, I climbed over it and down onto some rocky outcropping. I sat there, like a buddha, eyes closed, listening, feeling, experiencing. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like opening your eyes after a long silence and being greeted by an endless vision of blue at your feet.

On the way home, it was just me and the Austrian girl, and we were accosted by a group of young Ecuadorian sailors, in white uniforms and all. They walked with us, asking all kinds of things in Spanish and giggling amongst themselves. All I could understand what that they wanted to know if we had a cell phone number and whether we could come out tonight with them. I just played stupid… ¨No entiendo!¨ haha

Later that night, my sister went to bed early (she was still recovering from the same troubles I´d experienced on Tuesday) while I went out to a local bar, ¨Iguana Rock¨, with some of the crew. There was some dancing, lots of laughing and later, some meandering up and down the streets with a lovely English bloke (who has since been dubbed our honorary brother).

Saturday´s highlight was Loberia Beach, a short ride from town (in the back of a pick truck of course, which is now my favourite mode of transportation). I performed some Reiki on Doe, hung out with sea lions and met the most endearing Swiss girl (anyone who has travelled knows what I mean here). That night, Doe and I purchased some wine in a box (yes, in a box, and it actually was pretty good too) and joined the rest of the crew on the rooftop patio of our hostel (which overlooks the ocean).

At one point, I turned to my dear Mexican/American friend and commented that although he and I had lots of laughs together, we never seemed to have a real, SERIOUS conversation. So he promptly started one, about life´s risks and gambles, and the difference between the two. And he gave me his thoughts (because I don´t give a rat´s ass about his feelings…haha) about impossible relationships. Insightful.

On Sunday, a ton us of boarded a Katamaran for a snorkel trip to Islas Lobos and Kicker Rock. A glorious day! Met Clotaire (from France) whose passion about travel, nature and life in general reaffirmed my own life´s direction. I mean, here is a guy who smiles so often, so easily and so big that he chokes on salt water because he can´t keep his mouth closed on the snorkel. Now that´s living for the moment. Ta passion et ton esprit de coeur sont contageux – Merci!

I can’t quite explain why the snorkel trip was so great, but it really was. Doe and I had the immense priviledge of playing with a friendly female sea lion. She would swim right up to our faces, stare at us with her dark curious eyes, then flip playfully away. I would dive under, do a little twisting roll, and turn to see her copying me, only a million times more gracefully. By the time I climbed back onto the boat, I was deliriously happy.

There must have been something in there air that day because everyone had a “lightness” about them. On our way back to port, Victor (our super-sweet trip organizer) announced that we were all invited to a party at his house that night. The thing is, we’d all planned to return to the station that night because we had to work the next morning. But you only live once. So a few phonecalls were made and next thing you know, we have 3 taxi booked the next morning for 6 am instead.

Wow, who would have thought I’d be at a house party on the Galapagos Islands with my little sister? Victor, being the generous and awesome dude that he is, barbequed some fish and chicken for everyone, along with the most delicious salad I’ve had since leaving Canada. Doe and I shared a bottle of Gato Negro and just plain had ourselves a fantastic night.

The party moved to some bar down the street, where Doe engaged the Danish boy in a heated discussion about the essence of life (or something like that) while my Mexican/American friend explained in painstaking (but still coherent) detail his all-consuming theory of…well, everything. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, we found ourselves stargazing on the remarkably comfort cobblestone road that lines the coastline. What a night!

The next morning, I was quite surprised to see that everyone (minus one) had been able to drag, or crawl, themselves out of bed in time for the taxi ride to the station. Needless to say, we weren’t very productive workers that day, but at least we showed up! Actually, the tradition is that volunteers don’t have to work on their last full day at the station, so Doe and I spent 1 hour chopping Mora with the gang in the morning, them promptly laid our bodies in a hammock for the rest of the day

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the “chuchaqui” state of mind, but everyone was in a silly mood that day. I shot many hillarious videos with my camera, including the Germans performing their rendition of the “Canadaaaa, Canadaaa” song and the “Rodeeeeee, Oooo-ooo-ooo-ooo” (a la Bohemian Rhapsody), in honour of Roddy the Scotsman.

After dinner, the lovely English bloke admitted that he’d written a letter to my sister and I in anticipation of our upcoming departure. We read it the 6-page heartfelt document by torchlight in our room, then quickly tiptoed out to the balcony, where he was standing in the dark, and gave him a long, tight, Canadian-sisters hug. We now have a brother with a British accent.

At this point, I realize I forgot to write something in an earlier blog (at least I think I did…and I’m too lazy to go back and double-check). Last Monday, the English bloke in question had begun to make me feel uncomfortable with his….attentions. He was in no way impolite, rude or aggresive, but I happen to be unusually sensitive to such things. So I spent a few days feeling awkward and just generally trying to avoid him, until I decided to do us both a favour and try honesty. We had a moment alone in the old house, so I just blurted out my thoughts and feelings, hoping that I was expressing myself coherently (confrontation makes me nervous and unintelligable). He also expressed his feelings, and from then on, things were peachy. I was no longer uncomfortable around him and came to develop a real fondness for the boy (he’s 4 years younger than I). I had greatly underestimated the power of honesty, but not anymore.

Anyways, back to the story. That night was our last at the station, and since it was also a Monday night (meaning we’d received a few new volunteers), we all headed out to the bar one last time (for us anyways). It was a great, great celebration of our adventures on San Cristobal and the wonderful friends we’d made at the Station. Many hugs, many laughs and many thanks.

So that brings me to today.

Today was all over the place, logistically and emotionally. Not only did we leave the station for the last time, but I had a rather unexpected “encounter” that morning. I should have clued-in that something was up when my Mexican/American friend told me to meet him by the nursery at 7:45 am (right after breakfast). I REALLY should have clued-in when we asked me how hard I could slap someone. Needless to say, he grabbed my face and planted a big kiss on my shocked mouth. It was quite possibly the worst kiss of my life (and he would undoubtedly agree).

After the initial shock and awkwardness, we were able to laugh about it, admit that it was horrible and pretty much forget it immediately. But I give him full credit for trying such a gutsy move. Huevon! And my promise to play guitar hero with him if we ever meet again still stands. But nothing more, hahaha.

After lunch (a great last lunch of rice, beans, fish and onion & tomato salad…Mmmmm), the taxi arrived and the farewells began. Great hugs all around, some longer and tighter than others. The German boys serenade us one last time with the Canadaaa song, and just as the taxi began to drive off, out runs the Danish boy screaming and waving his arms. The driver stops, he hugs and kisses us both (on the cheek!) and yells his signature phrase as we take off again… “FUCK YOU”!!

Couldn’t ask for a better send-off if you ask me.
We feel loved.

So that pretty much wraps up the Galapagos experience. Once we arrived in town, we did a last load of laundry, a bit of shopping and eating, and then this incredibly insanely long blog entry. Which is about to get even longer.

A couple of random thoughts I want to share:

-Despite being excessively dirty all the time for nearly a month, my dentist will be happy to know that my teeth have never been cleaner. I must have brushed my teeth 5 or 6 times each day while I lived at the station. Not so much for fear of plaque or tartar build-up, but more because it was the only thing that one could do to feel any sense of cleanliness. And also simply because I had the time and luxury of doing so.

-A few weeks ago, I confessed to my sister my feelings of apprehension that I wasn’t doing as much “soul searching” as I’d hoped. My intention was to do some yoga and meditate every day. To go within and do some exploring. In the end, I might have done yoga once or twice and sat with eyes closed a couple of times. That being said, I can see looking back that I did indeed explore myself in quite a bit of depth. The first few weeks at the station were quite a challenge for me. I had to face several truths about myself that are uncomfortable, depressing and awkward. My vulnerabilities were exposed like never before. But then came the turnaround, the “letting go” and the acceptance of both myself and others.

-Insight comes in many forms. From a dinner table conversation with a 70-year old volunteer, to the exuberance of a frenchman, from risks vs. gambles to hitchhiking the galaxy, from Allan Watts to pure awareness and watching the seam between the sky and the ocean fade away. And even just the passage of time, from yesterday to today to tomorrow, has something of value, if you look at it right.

However, at this very moment, I can’t look at anything right because I’ve been sitting at this computer for WAY too long and my eyeballs are about to fall out. I’ve got a 6:00 am boat ride to catch so I think it’s time to lay my head on a Galapagos pillow one last time.

Buenas Noches