the underbelly of paradise

11/02/19

It is 8:30 at night. I have just come back from the Friday night $2 fish meal in the village. People lined up for a paper plate of rice, salad and a big slab of fish grilled in foil over a makeshift BBQ. I am sitting on a log on the beach enjoying the full moon. Severiano comes to sit with me. He is 17 and works here clearing the beach and running errands. He has a beer bottle with him and smells of alcohol. He asks me a few questions. I respond and ask a few of my own. The conversation is easy, interspersed with silence. The wave, the moon, the breeze. Nearby are 2 female workers drinking rum and laughing and staggering about. He suddenly asks me to buy him a beer. I am surprised and say I didn't understand. He repeats himself and my first response is to say no. As I am sitting there pondering my decision, "Was it a good one? Should I have said yes?", he mumbles that he is sorry and gets up and goes to sit with the women. Was he apologizing for asking or was he saying he was sorry that I said no? I don't know. After a moment, I go inside. The mood of tranquillity is broken. A man, a tourist, comes by and sits with them. He is talking loudly in an obviously drunken way. I can hear him buying rounds of drinks. The silence is broken by intermittent shouting and laughter. By 11, it is quiet again but the pristine paradise of my fantasy has changed colour. It is clear to me that my vision of paradise has no people in it. At least not the human kind.