Coming Out & Dancing up the Moon
I spend the rest of the day mostly at my camper. I try to go swimming but the water is very shallow here. The tide has gone out and out and out and as far as I can see, there is no water, only revealed ocean bottom.
I clean up – there is popcorn and yeast everywhere, which is what happens when you forget to close the window and leave a bowl of popcorn underneath it – a popcorn snow storm! Popcorn in the upper bunk, popcorn in the lower bunk, popcorn in the cupboards, popcorn in the shelves, popcorn under the bed, the sink, the stove.
I take a short walk to the very, very tip of the peninsula and YES, there IS a tiny base at the end. I see the soldiers behind a fence and a couple of military-looking vehicles. Great!
I return to the truck and check the batteries for water. To my chagrin, they all need lots of water again. The water seems to be draining out the bottom. I’m horrified. I use all my distilled water that is left in the old container, after the new 2 ½ gallon plastic container split when we were topes airborne, to fill them and I put regular water in one when I run out of distilled. I figure any water is better than no water at all.
I hope they are not ruined. The system is running at 27-28 volts now that I’m in such great sun. hmmmm.
A womon and a man bring their cooler to the little cabana in front of my truck and hang out there. They have a child who is riding his bike around and around, closer and closer to the truck.
I sit outside to practice my Spanish. Jorge and I have exchanged names and his age. Once he told me he’s is 6 and I tell him, no, he must be 10, he is so big, he talks to me in Spanish. Fortunately for me, he doesn’t expect me to do much talking. I basically repeat the last couple of words he says, just to keep the conversation going.
He corrects my pronunciation very patiently and wisely for a 6 year old. Maybe because he so recently learned to speak, he has an idea how to teach me.
Before long, my new friend Chuyita returns with a young womon in tow. When she sees Jorge, she brightens and tells me he is her friend, as is his mom.
Chuyita introduces me to Sara, Jorge’s mom, and Jeso’s, Jorge’s uncle, and Narrda, the young womon who is also a friend. We sit on the broken cement benches and try to have a conversation as we watch the sun turn the sky and ocean pink and red.
Sara and Chuyita ask me bluntly why don’t I wear a bra. I ask them why do they wear one? I guess my Jewish self is showing out this tardes.
They look at each other and say something like to make our breasts look better. I tell them I’m sure their breasts look just fine, with or without a bra.
I try to talk with them about freedom – from bras! And how bad they are for breasts, especially if one is trying to avoid breast cancer. They are amazed. And I think a little in awe – or in, what a crazy gringa this time!
Sara asks me if I have a love somewhere. Ut oh! Here it comes! I tell her no but soon. Everyone laughs and she asks me if I want a Mexican. I say I’m open. She teases: “I’ll take any man” and I have to tell her, no, only womyn.
So I come out tonite to 5 people who live in this town. After the usual half afraid, half hopeful “do you ‘like’ me?” to which I ask “are you a lesbian? They laugh nervously protesting. So I say, “then, no, I don’t ‘like’ you”.
Sara asks me why am I a Lesbian? I ask her why not?
Then I say (I think) because womyn are beautiful, kind, generous, sensual, express feelings, talk – all the things I love about myself, I love about other womyn.
Sara tells me there is a lesbian who lives in town. I say just one? Chuyita promises to take me to meet Luna.
I ask Sara why does she love men? She tells me she doesn’t. But she doesn’t love women either. Okay.
Sara tells me if I need diesel, it is next to the soldiers. YES, I HAVE camped several yards from a ‘base’. UFB (unfuckinbelievable)
I then tell them my yo soy buscando para aceite vegetal usado (I am looking for vegetable oil used) and they seem to think there will be tons around. Wow, as Chuyita would say. I didn’t see that many restaurants but they must know something I don’t.
Sara pulls out her cell phone and plays a song she’s recorded with her son dancing. Chuyita wants me to dance, which I do, but when the second song comes on, I grab everyone’s hand and we are all dancing.
There are only 2 songs on the phone, so everyone gathers up their things and we go up onto the sidewalk where their car is parked behind my truck – they have driven over here even though it is probably less than ½ mile to their home – and Sara turns on the radio.
We dance through the sunset, the night away and the full moon up again. Before they leave, Chuyita tells me café instant at her pink house manana. I agree.