(Punta is a local erotic, close style of dancing that natives do to the fast beating drumbeat associated with the Punta Music, also originating in Belize)
I saw a worn & tired figure with long blond hair coming in through the gate early this morning, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to hide her red swollen eyes behind dark sunglasses, the kind you get after hours of crying and no sleep, I know the look.
She seemed to be in a hurry, trying to escape somewhere, something or someone.
She was trying to drag through the soft fluffy sand, in a rush, one of those big solid suitcases on wheels which seem to only make her frustration, one could imagine, quadruple. The sight reminded me of a stranded beach shark trying to make it out to sea flipping and flapping about.
She had that anxious worried look on her face where survival meant everything at this moment . Her mouth seemed to be moving but no words were coming out. Even though my hearing was absorbing the chatter of the Slovenia man sitting on the couch outside next to me whom I was with in mid conversation, I had blanked out mentally & thought I saw from a distance, her lips saying HELP ME!
Immediately I knew she was not the kind of guest that Tina's Hostel attracts. She was in her mid forties, carrying the wrong type of luggage since all we get here are backpacks, was too well dressed and wore too much jewellery.
Finally she made it to the stairs & dropped the suitcase in the sand like she had just abandoned 20 years of excess mental luggage, the deep long curvy trails left behind from the force of the wheels digging in.
I rushed to her side to inquire how I can be of assistance and she asked for a dorm bed. I asked her twice if she really was looking to sleep in a dorm and then she asked if I had a private room. I did and I gave it to her. I told her to settle in and come upstairs to check in when she is finished.
Upstairs in private, she admitted that she had no money and could only pay with her husband's credit card. I told her that I could not accept that form of payment as I need to have the cardholder present to verify signature since there is a lot of credit card fraud and the banks are suspicious if I turn in a slip with the wrong signature.
Then she broke down in tears, and I asked her to sit down and relax and tell me about it when she feels comfortable. She asked to borrow the phone and I heard her call someone to ask them to Western Union her some money as she was stranded in Belize!
She hung up the phone and told me that her husband had kicked her out of the fancy hotel next door with intentions of leaving her penniless in Belize and that she stole his credit cards and quickly tried to check in with us to hide, as he was packed and leaving for the airstrip to catch a plane without her.
I told her to relax, we will work it out and an hour or so I could hear her still sobbing in the small room behind the busy kitchen.
She came upstairs again, she needed to talk to someone and had no one to share this horrendous moment with her.
"Her long marriage was falling to pieces" she said, "her husband was leaving her stranded in Belize penniless while on vacation, and he was threatening divorce".
"But why?" I asked, "what have you done so wrong?"
"I drank too much at the Oceanside Bar last night and I kissed one of the local boys on the dance floor where he had me pinned to the wall after we got into some erotic dirty dancing to PUNTA MUSIC"
"But did you want him to kiss you or did you want to kiss him?"
"I got so drunk & was having such a good time, I don't recall who might have initiated, but I know I let him, and my husband was at the bar looking on the entire time & I got lost in the moment and completely forgot he was there."
Not long after, from the second floor veranda, I spot a mild looking First World Corporate type walking in the garden dragging a matching suitcase and I immediately recognize him as the SPOUSE. I warn her and she goes down to meet him before he can make it to the front steps. I watch the show unfold from above, tucked behind the screen door where I can blend in with the mesh.
Like fuel to fire, there was an eruption as soon as they met up and the mild looking man was demanding his credit cards. She helped him drag his suitcase back out the gate and thankfully they went on the dock so as not to cause more of a scene to the rest of the guests milling around, who were secretly hoping for the show to unfold within earshot.
We could see arms flailing wildly then she runs back in to the hostel and borrows the phone again and calls long distance again, then she goes back out, then someone they call is talking to him, then her, then she comes back in the hostel and up the stairs to me.
"I'm leaving she says, I'm going home, but I don't know for how long. I'm sorry I couldn't pay you"
"Don't worry" I tell her, "this one's on the house".
I saw a worn & tired figure with long blond hair coming in through the gate early this morning, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to hide her red swollen eyes behind dark sunglasses, the kind you get after hours of crying and no sleep, I know the look.
She seemed to be in a hurry, trying to escape somewhere, something or someone.
She was trying to drag through the soft fluffy sand, in a rush, one of those big solid suitcases on wheels which seem to only make her frustration, one could imagine, quadruple. The sight reminded me of a stranded beach shark trying to make it out to sea flipping and flapping about.
She had that anxious worried look on her face where survival meant everything at this moment . Her mouth seemed to be moving but no words were coming out. Even though my hearing was absorbing the chatter of the Slovenia man sitting on the couch outside next to me whom I was with in mid conversation, I had blanked out mentally & thought I saw from a distance, her lips saying HELP ME!
Immediately I knew she was not the kind of guest that Tina's Hostel attracts. She was in her mid forties, carrying the wrong type of luggage since all we get here are backpacks, was too well dressed and wore too much jewellery.
Finally she made it to the stairs & dropped the suitcase in the sand like she had just abandoned 20 years of excess mental luggage, the deep long curvy trails left behind from the force of the wheels digging in.
I rushed to her side to inquire how I can be of assistance and she asked for a dorm bed. I asked her twice if she really was looking to sleep in a dorm and then she asked if I had a private room. I did and I gave it to her. I told her to settle in and come upstairs to check in when she is finished.
Upstairs in private, she admitted that she had no money and could only pay with her husband's credit card. I told her that I could not accept that form of payment as I need to have the cardholder present to verify signature since there is a lot of credit card fraud and the banks are suspicious if I turn in a slip with the wrong signature.
Then she broke down in tears, and I asked her to sit down and relax and tell me about it when she feels comfortable. She asked to borrow the phone and I heard her call someone to ask them to Western Union her some money as she was stranded in Belize!
She hung up the phone and told me that her husband had kicked her out of the fancy hotel next door with intentions of leaving her penniless in Belize and that she stole his credit cards and quickly tried to check in with us to hide, as he was packed and leaving for the airstrip to catch a plane without her.
I told her to relax, we will work it out and an hour or so I could hear her still sobbing in the small room behind the busy kitchen.
She came upstairs again, she needed to talk to someone and had no one to share this horrendous moment with her.
"Her long marriage was falling to pieces" she said, "her husband was leaving her stranded in Belize penniless while on vacation, and he was threatening divorce".
"But why?" I asked, "what have you done so wrong?"
"I drank too much at the Oceanside Bar last night and I kissed one of the local boys on the dance floor where he had me pinned to the wall after we got into some erotic dirty dancing to PUNTA MUSIC"
"But did you want him to kiss you or did you want to kiss him?"
"I got so drunk & was having such a good time, I don't recall who might have initiated, but I know I let him, and my husband was at the bar looking on the entire time & I got lost in the moment and completely forgot he was there."
Not long after, from the second floor veranda, I spot a mild looking First World Corporate type walking in the garden dragging a matching suitcase and I immediately recognize him as the SPOUSE. I warn her and she goes down to meet him before he can make it to the front steps. I watch the show unfold from above, tucked behind the screen door where I can blend in with the mesh.
Like fuel to fire, there was an eruption as soon as they met up and the mild looking man was demanding his credit cards. She helped him drag his suitcase back out the gate and thankfully they went on the dock so as not to cause more of a scene to the rest of the guests milling around, who were secretly hoping for the show to unfold within earshot.
We could see arms flailing wildly then she runs back in to the hostel and borrows the phone again and calls long distance again, then she goes back out, then someone they call is talking to him, then her, then she comes back in the hostel and up the stairs to me.
"I'm leaving she says, I'm going home, but I don't know for how long. I'm sorry I couldn't pay you"
"Don't worry" I tell her, "this one's on the house".
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