Stomach Within a Stomach

Part I

The knife effortlessly cuts into the foot-long papaya, whose juicy flesh is glowing bright orange. I slice a generous ring and step out to the edge of the boat. I examine the little black seeds, which have to be one of the most intriguing visuals. Somewhere between a brain and a beautiful gem, there seems to be another dimension as I peer through the shimmering clear film into the embryonic sac with mazes of brown bark, and rainbow colored bubbles. I push the seeds from inside the ring and they fall into the light-blue water.  Almost instantaneously a school of inch-long flashy fish frenzy to peck at these nutritious drops. Then beneath them gathers a school of foot-long silver fish to peck at the delicious inch-long fish. So within seconds I have contributed to multiple layers of the food chain, and the food I held in my hands a minute ago has trickled into a stomach within a stomach. I find in myself no feelings of sympathy for the little fish, or feelings of congratulation towards the bigger, but instead I find gratitude that I live in a balanced world where organisms’ main function is to seek out floating energy and to absorb it, to continue its flow through progressively more complex forms, to be returned once again into the ground where the papaya grows, because I enjoy papayas in a way I can’t describe. And how lucky am I that I get to be apart of this flow for a fleeting moment, and to be aware of it!

I take the first bite, and my mouth is filled with juice and soft flesh, with aromas of flowers and smiles wafting into my nose, and flavors of the sun and honey melting into my tongue. As the golden ring transitions from existing outside my body to inside, I feel increasingly more alive. I can feel the exchange of energy, and here I am along side the fish, completing the circle of everything.

This morning for breakfast I hand-flattened corn flour and water to make tortillas. 

The flavors of the papaya and tortilla connect me even deeper to the land that is a quick paddle away from my boat…Mexico.

Part II

The last month has been a series of sailing adventures that have brought me to La Paz, Mexico, at the south end of the Sea of Cortez (which Jack Cousotou called the aquarium of the world.) La Paz is a peaceful town surrounded by cactus and red rock. (As we sailed in a few days ago, I felt like we were sailing into the Grand Canyon if it were filled with water except for the top 1000 feet.) La Paz has a high reputation among sailors, so much so that many put their ocean wanderings on hold to settle down here for years. Needless to say there is an amazing sailing community here, the mode of communication being radios and a net call every morning at 8 o’clock during which announcements are made, like coffee at 10, or jam session at 5, or line dancing at 3, weather is given, and items to be traded are shared. Jordan already bought an iPad, and we have a lead on an outboard motor for our dingy.

We came to La Paz to see some of our good friends from the docks at San Diego, Steve and Janny. They invited us over the first night we got here for dinner and to spend the night on their spacious catamaran. In the few following days we have met cruisers from at least ten boats, and have been invited over for dinner on another boat. The community of sailors is glued together like no community I’ve been apart of because we have all come from and we are going to that great unpredictable beast that covers 71% of our world, and because we have left a conventional life style to drift into new lands, to discover and to learn.