Arriving in Aruba

I had been staying with my sister and her then-husband for about three weeks by this time in Caracas, Venezuela. I was due to be there for another three weeks. Let's call my sister "Jennifer", and her then-husband, "Heraclio".

Heraclio, Jennifer woke up before I did today, and woke me up to eat breakfast. My sister, who is about seven months pregnant, keeps showing me different foods she has started eating since moving here to be with Heraclio. This morning, it's not anything too unusual: avocado with a little bit of olive oil and salt. I surprise myself by actually enjoying it. I don't know why, avocado is just one of those things that I always assumed that I would not enjoy, but apparently I have been wrong.

Jennifer and I sit next to each other on the sofa, which is in front of the cot I have been sleeping on in their one-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. We sit in silence, eating our avocados and watching Friends, one of the few shows in English available on television in Caracas.

"It's good, isn't it?" she suddenly asks, breaking the silence. I nod, and finish my avocado.

We had all packed the night before for our weekend adventure out to Aruba. We are going to a wedding of a friend of Heraclio's, which I am feeling a little weird about, since I have no clue who these people are, yet I am attending their wedding. I have been assured multiple times that they are happy to have me, but I guess I still feel weird about it.

We leave the apartment, Jennifer goes first, I'm in the middle, and Heraclio goes last to lock up. That seems to be the order of operations when the three of us are together. We walk towards the elevator which isn't very far from their apartment door, and make our way down to the main level. Heraclio's car is outside in the parking lot, and we load our weekend luggage in the trunk of the car and then load ourselves into the vehicle. I'm in the backseat of course, which is what I prefer. The traffic in Caracas is crazy to me, I have never seen anything like it. Traffic lights are more-so suggestions than anything else, everyone just swerves around each other, and I'm not certain that speed limits pertain to any of the drivers on the road.

We arrive at the airport, and we just go to our gate and wait for our flight. It's not a very long wait, nor a very long flight. Overall, it's just status-quo and nothing really interesting happens on the flight over.

Landing in Aruba, the airport is one of those with mostly open walls, and definitely a smaller airport. The humidity welcomes my frizzy/curly hair with open arms, and I can feel the heat upon my face. Heraclio runs off to get the rental car, but Jennifer and I hang back. A few of Jennifer and Heraclio's friends, who were on the same flight, end up standing around and chatting it up with Jennifer and I sit there and nod politely. Heraclio comes back after some time with a set of keys, and off we go!

Checking into the Hotel + Beach Bumming

We arrive at the hotel, the Holiday Inn Resort, and check into the room. It's one of those fancy hotels, where there are shops on the main floor, and everything feels bright and clean.

I am feeling extremely self-conscious realizing that I am about to go on the beach in a bikini in front of a bunch of people - people who are gorgeous, very fit, and some who have had some work done to make their boobs and booties bigger. I start to feel anxiety set in, so I hide in the hotel bathroom. I'm trying to wait for it to pass, but it overwhelms me and I begin to cry. Heraclio had left the hotel room, but Jennifer knocks on the door and asks to come in.

She asks me what's wrong, and I tell her that I don't think I want to go to the beach.

"Why not?" she asks. I feel really stupid, but I tell her because the reasons, regarding my self-consciousness about my body, and that I'm just not this model type body that everyone else seems to be. It feels especially stupid to be saying this to Jennifer, who is skinny and fit as hell, but still seven months pregnant. She assures me that natural bodies are better, and pleads with me to come out to the beach with her and to have a good time. Reluctantly, I listen, and I go, fighting the panic I feel inside. I wore my sarong that Jennifer had bought me to cover my hips and thighs, and down to the beach we go.

Once we are on the beach, and I am laying down on a lounger, I start to feel much better, now that I'm not drawing attention to myself just by moving and existing. I, thankfully, brought my Nikon D50 down to the beach with me. I always feel better when my camera is on me, as I can distract myself with taking pictures.

Heraclio and his friends are all playing with a football and a soccer ball on the beach, and I start snapping photos of them and the people around Jennifer and I.

A Little Sports-ball

The "boys" decided they wanted to play a friendly game of football (soccer), so we all moved to a grassy area. Luckily, there were lounge chairs over by the grassy area too, so Jennifer and I laid back down, and the guys started their game. One of Heraclio's friends, "Carl", keeps smiling at me every time he does something that I'm assuming is "successful" in the game, but I don't know the sport that well.

Jennifer notices this too and looks over at me. "I guess he thinks you're cute!" she says. I roll my eyes at her, and turn to look back towards the beach. The sun is now setting, and it looks lovely coming through the palm trees, so I snap a few photos.

A Night on the Town

After the friendly scrimmage, it was determined that we would all go out for dinner and drinks. So, essentially, the next part is kind of boring to write about - we went up to our hotel room, changed, and then went back down to the lobby to meet up with Heraclio and Jennifer's friends.

However, instead of people taking their own rental cars to go meet up somewhere, for some reason, every single person there for the wedding decided that we would be stuffed in one car or another, in a quite un-safe fashion. I, of course, am sticking with Jennifer and Heraclio. The car Heraclio had rented was a very small hatchback sedan.

I watched as one of Heraclio's friends climbed into the trunk. I am thinking to myself that this is all quite funny, but oh man, if my mother was here she would not be happy. Four people load into the backseat: three adults and one toddler. In the front seat, Heraclio is driving, and I am in the passenger seat with Jennifer on my lap. We ride this way over to the Palm Beach Plaza area.

We ate dinner, did some shopping, and some drinking - well, not Jennifer, seeing as she is pregnant. Honestly, I'm feeling a little tipsy by this point, but we return to the hotel in the same fashion we arrived - clown car style. We all return to our rooms and go to sleep for the night.