08.20.2012 - 08.20.2012
The sand is soft and fine where it's clear of plastic and kelp, twigs and leaves. It sticks to my skin in sheets, like a fine dust. Today we sit on the beach in the shade, reading and napping. In the morning we played in the surf, letting the warm water and gentle waves carry us. Why do we like splashing in the water so much? Children can spend an entire day in the water, playing and screaming and laughing. I remember one of the happiest moments of my childhood being a day spent at the beach in Fulong, Taiwan. My parents bought me a large, floppy hat that I loved for a few years but never wore. The water was like bath water, and the waves were high. I think my father lifted me on his shoulders. I never got bored of being there, though I imagine we didn't leave until dark. It was crowded, but I didn't care--it was part of the fun. Later on I went there with Chris. It was empty except for a handful of tourists. The water was cool and flat. It could have, must have, been a different place.
Chris says tomorrow is a holiday in the Philippines, so I suspect the karaoke will continue. I had a bad time of it last night, what with the singing, the heat, the mosquito--it all made me wonder at my weakness, especially while Chris slept so contentedly.
Anda is indeed a different type of place than the others we've been to so far. We appear to be more of a rarity here: Chris caught people surreptitiously taking our picture yesterday. There seem to be brownouts everyday, and the town's only internet cafe is without connection today--who knows why? It goes without saying that there's no wifi, though down the beach at the private resorts I suspect there's more the familiar tourist vibe.
I'm hungry but have no idea what time it is. Chris's watch went dead a week ago, and then mine the day before yesterday. We laughed ruefully and said no more $2 watches.