The Moonbeam Chronicles
by Rachel Holan
I started a small email list a few years ago ...
La Vida Buena
Written Dec. 16, 2007
i was in a mexican hospital last night.
but that story can wait for a minute.
so mexico is...is hard to explain in words. i feel very at home here, very happy, and very safe. i want to thank all of you who wrote in my book, especially those who wrote LEGIBLY. i read the whole thing twice in the airport. the second time i was huddled up in a ball trying not to cry and freak out the people around me. a little old lady even came up to me and asked if i was ok. i wasn´t ok. it was there, sitting in the cold airport, that i realized what wonderful, amazing people i was leaving behind. i love each and every one of you with every inch of my heart, and yet, it´s time to continue on.
an unknown author in my book wrote, "The Mayan´s say the world ends in 2012...go ahead, have another drink." whoever wrote that in there, thanks. i also counted how many people told me to have a drink for them. it totals 22. i covered that last night, so i don´t want any of you to worry. coincidentally, that has something to do with the mexican hospital experience. but again, later.
so, i am in Tulum. i have somehow, in less than a week, pulled off finding myself a job and a place to live. i have no idea how i accomplished this, it all happened rather fast. i am working at a dive shop called Acuatic Tulum. the crazy guy i met last time, Catana, hooked me up with it, as he is a dive master for the company too. basically all i do is walk up and down the beach and talk to tourists. i´m a little less intimidating than some crazed-looking mexican dude walking up to them and trying to sell diving and snorkeling trips. so i hang out all day, talk to people, i have this funny little walkie-talkie to keep me in touch with the dive shop...and, life is good. i get paid a little commission off what i sell, and yesterday i made money! i made 210 pesos, which is roughly 20 bucks. to celebrate, i went out and spent it all, which is funny because i told myself i would eat only rice until i sold something. so i´ve been eating rice mostly for the past week, which my roommates think is hilarious.
yes, i have roommates. i was adopted by 3 guys, Will and Sugar (his real name is adam, but his last name is sugadesh or something...you see where i´m going) are from England, and Harry is from Malawi (for those who don´t know, it´s a country in Africa). so we all live in a house, and i sleep in my hammock in the living room. the house is very odd. it came furnished with orange 80´s patio furniture, the pipes talk to me at 5:37 a.m. and there are exactly 7 different locations where i can hang my hammock, with hooks already in the walls. i counted today.
so these crazy guys just kinda hang out, plus they came up with the brilliant idea of a party bus. they actually bought a bus, and every weekend, they go pick up people from the hostel here called the Weary Traveler. it´s a good hostel, and i stayed there my first 3 nights, until i was found. this party bus leads to my hospital story. those who have kept reading, i applaud you! for those who are new to the email lists, this is pretty standard. so, last night there was this huge party on the beach, which is where the party bus takes you. we were all having a great time, when i step on a giant piece of glass. it was then that a girl standing there informed me that she had just broken a glass, and to be careful. the glass went through my flip flop and into the bottom of my left foot. needless to say i started bleeding and cursing like a pirate. Will, Sugar, and Harry picked me up and threw me into a taxi where i shouted "HOSPITAL...DOCTOR...AHORA" i think i got to the hospital faster in that cab than any ambulance could do, mainly because i was bleeding on the back seat and he wanted me out of the car. so we pull up to the hospital, which could have been an apartment really. there was no doctor, but the was a nurse. well, i assume she was a nurse, and i had to look past the Rolling Stones tshirt she was wearing and not yell, but only because she seemed to have to tools to stop the hemorraging. she said i didnt need stiches and to be honest, she did a good job. Harry almost threw up because apparently he doesnt like blood, which is something to keep in mind. Sugar was cracking jokes to keep me laughing and not crying. Will cracked open a bottle of beer he had in his pocket and gave it to me. It was here, in that moment, that i realized i was going to be just fine. its saturday night, and my 3 roommates, virtually strangers, are sitting with me in a mexican hospital, trying to make me smile. it would have been a nice moment, except for the bleeding.