Dec-2015
A Mexican journal of bubbles
Huatulco, Mexico – December 4, 2015
The bubbels, de bubbels, las burbujas – I’m getting confused about in which language I’m supposed to think when I want to put my thoughts on paper. If I’d known the word for a bubble in Swedish than that would mean I could get confused about a fourth language by now. I’m head over heels in love with my Swedish viking with who I speak English, even while now we are in Mexico and I speak Spanish with everyone beside him.
Anyway, bubbles. As I was laying on the beach of Huatulco, literally in the sand of Santa Cruz, I could feel the sand moving underneath my body. The current was strong and every wave reached at least my feet, but most of the time it went for my shoulders. The sand got pushed into my bikini every time a wave approached me, while I could also feel that I was creating a mark in the sand of my own shape. First my feet and ankles, then I would feel my cheeks bum forming two round marks in the sand. Somehow my shoulders and arms weren’t leaving enough pressure and my hands would move back and forth with the small waves. Sometime I’d lift my head if the water came so far that I’d get it in my mouth, but most of the time I ‘d leave my head down, resting on the sand as if it were a natural pillow. Left and right there were all these tiny little holes in the sand, where I suppose little crabs live in. I’d imagine the little crab families having their tiny homes underneath all that sand, with a kitchen and a bed, while they had to blow air through their chimneys to make sure that the seawater wouldn’t come in. Every time a wave came and reached the sand I could hear the bubbles coming out of the tiny crab holes and I’d wonder how those little crabs look like. Yellow? Orange perhaps? Did they have a shell or not? I can only imagine while listening to the bubbles.
About Renate Rigters
Ever since I left my home country I felt at home at any other place I went to. I enjoy getting to know more cultures by talking to strangers and hearing their philosophy about life. Speaking with gestures when you can not find a shared language, finding places only the locals go to and learn about their customs and values. Hanging out with local people makes me happy. The experience of every new place is a step out of your comfort zone where I like to wander around until it feels like a second home.
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