beach blues

Spent all day yesterday working at the hotel restaurant/internet café…
Staring out at the beach just 30 meters away
Trying to finish up writings probably better left for another day…

The experience of a place is a lot different
once you’re no longer surrounded by native English speakers…
perhaps I appear to be the tweaker I am
As I’m not sure how I’m being received
And my feeble Portuguese
Is so bad you have to see it to believe
…a polyglot slop of stuttered Spanish, poor grammar, and desperate hand motions…

Aside:
…If the Convento do Carmo was like the setting for some Dan Brown-esque novel of international intrigue and religious espionage, this stretch of Barra I’m staying in feels like it’s replicating scenes from Hunter S. Thompson’s The Rum Diaries.

In a failed bid to counter a sudden bout of unexpected homesickness,
I found myself drinking Guinness at an Irish Bar called Dubliner’s
On a garage-level stretch in front of the beach…

Three beers into a slow evening of watching a billiards game from a distance, I’m suddenly surprised to see the attractive pair of lesbians sitting next to me start making out. In an animated exchange of tongues and hands and palpable real emotions, these two women wrap themselves in each other’s and start seriously sucking face. Their public grope apparently caught me off guard, cause I really didn’t know how to react... Hmmmm… Is this normal or are these two women simply making fun of my complete inability to communicate with anyone in the room? I got the sense they were teasing me, hamming it up for the gringo burro, but who really knows…

Paid my tab and went to find some food, cause I hadn’t eaten dinner… Dined alone at an oceanfront hole-in-the-wall, had some very tasty penne pasta with pesto sauce and chunks of fresh tuna. Mmmmm…. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll write a long-overdue post on the food I’ve been eating… the flavors… the textures…the fruit…the fish…the fried chicken… yeah…I’ll write about that tomorrow…