Letters from a Sojournista: Sea Change and the Art of Peeing on Your Hand

I am a fan of Rumi, the 13th century Persian poet, and I am pondering his words on gratitude right now, sitting across from my large living room window, observing the way the sun has created something of a haze on the not so distant mountains. The sun is about to set on a two-week holiday that has been filled with memorable moments. Somewhere in his 60-some years Rumi was quoted as proclaiming, "Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life." The more days that dawn, the deeper I draw into feelings of gratitude...for a privileged life I have been granted, for the people I am fortunate enough to call my friends and family, and for abundant fresh food, mainly avocados and sweet potatoes, that I am daily devouring.

My most recent excursion was to las Galapagos. I have been quite intrigued with tortugas on past scuba dives, but it turns out that sea lions can really steal your heart. It's also possible to eat one's weight in seafood...and still want more ceviche. And one indeed can survive the nasty tentacles of a Galapagan jellyfish without going into anaphylactic shock...

It's only been a week since my return, but let's reminisce a bit together...

The Galaps Gang: Furio, Mama and Papa Baci, Adam, Les, Jan and Jackie Saumweber, yours truly, and Deb and Bruce Reuter (photo credit: Bruce Reuter)

Furio, el dueño de la casa, is a fascinating man of many trades. I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue in the kitchen on several occasions as he criticized how I cut his homemade bread and the mess I made while putting together a salad, but the man made such amazing Italian fare (and sent me home with 5 pounds of Galapagos sal del mar) that I couldn't hold a grudge for too long.

Needless to say, we ate well between Furio's cooking, dining out to consume copious amounts of octopus, shrimp, lobster, tuna and calamari, and Dad's two-a-day ice cream shop stops (no joke, no exaggeration; we share this love of chocolate and still I am thoroughly impressed by the sheer quantity he consumes while still keeping a pretty dang svelte form).

When we weren't noshing on the chocolate bars I brought, or slurping agua right from the coconut, we did enjoy a number of other activities on Santa Cruz, our home island, North Seymour and Isabela...

...like scubadiving! It had been about 7 years since my last dive, so Jacks helped me review some important basics before Dad, Les, she and I dove into the chilly Pacific ocean, sporting 7 millimeter wetsuits rather than the usual 3 millimeter suits we don when diving in Mexico. (And let me tell ya, "fits like a glove" has never rung so true before, and I'd be okay if it never did again.) What fascinated me most about the trip was the wildlife and sea animals and their comfort and seemingly equal fascination with humans. Take the sea lions for example:

Perhaps not the most flattering angle here for her, but this sea lion danced circles around us. Quike, our dive instructor, kindly asked us not to punch any sea lions in the face if they got too close, as other divers had reactively done in the past. Way too cute to box with, in my opinion. @saumweberphotography

It was on this first dive that I also saw my first sharks en vivo. I'd like to tell you about how Jaws-like they were and how valiant and brave we were, but I've never been that good at such fabrications, and truth be told, they were more docile than what would tackle me later...

So we swam along, happy as clams.

"Under the sea Under the sea Darling it's better Down where it's wetter Take it from me Up on the shore they work all day Out in the sun they slave away While we devotin' Full time to floatin' Under the sea" @saumweberphotography

In addition to the sharks, we watched manta rays elegantly swim past while whole clouds of fish surrounded us. After finishing our first two dives, I was jazzed for our second day of diving. On the third dive I was having one of those million dollar moments. So in the present, just taking in the texture of that very minute, and, having finally figured out my buoyancy with that glove of a wetsuit, I was feeling rather one with the sea. I've come to really dig into these times as I recognize how fleeting that sentiment may be when the Universe just seems so aligned. Perhaps 45 minutes later we had all resurfaced. Quike was helping me hand up my weights to the boat crew. My weightless hand was hanging onto a rope attached to the boat when suddenly I felt a rather uncomfortable stinging sensation. The intensity of the pain increased quite rapidly and before I could compose myself I was yelping and hollering. Quike quickly swiped at my hand, grabbing at what looked to me like a blue thread. Oh, those damn jellyfish tentacles. Extra glad I really savored those lovely moments under the sea because the following 45 minutes weren't ones in which I especially shone. As I was fighting back tears, telling my dad I didn't know if I could do our last dive, I kept coming back to WWJD (What Would Jackie Do). Jacks is one adventure-seeking, tough lady friend. I couldn't imagine she'd let such a wimpy, skinny, yarn-like tentacle get in the way of her very last dive in the Galapagos. So, I bucked up, marched myself to the tiny closet of a bathroom, and prepared to pee on my hand, as I had been persuaded to do by the other divers. At this moment, it may have been useful to have been equipped with a penis. With the boat rockin' by sizable waves, this was no easy, or clean, task. But I did it. And I felt a real kinship with Monica...and unfortunately no real relief. (Note this, amigos: Upon my return to Quito, I did further research. Urine is not an antidote for jellyfish stings, says the BBC.)

Well, anyway, I went through the ridiculous process of putting that wetsuit back on, where the crew and other divers were entertained as Quike and company picked me up and bounced me into "the glove." It was a wise decision because on that final dive we came across a seahorse, the most mythical of all sea creatures. Happy sigh as we enjoyed another million dollar moment.

The following are two million dollar photos that Bruce and Deb have passed to me for your viewing pleasure. Through these you might glimpse the splendor of the Galapagos.

This is a Frigatebird. His red pouch puffs up during mating season.

Frigatebird offspring -- I would just like a zoo of Galapagos animals in my house. Stat.

Because who doesn't want to cuddle up with this baby at night?

Good morning, Sunshine.

Besitos from the mama.

I suppose the scaly land iguana can stay outside...but he'll have a fantastic view of the stars.

Yo, are you lookin' at me? Are YOU lookin' at ME?!

We did love to look at Rafael, who we were told was 300 years old, only later to find these tortugas live to be around 150 years old. The bottom line: he's old enough to make this new yoga pose his whole workout for the day. Love ya, Rafa.