El Sol

March 7, Saturday - Sabado

I reluctantly emerge from my bed after a chilly, fitful night of sleep.  The rain has stopped.  The chill persists despite the garbage bag covered window; bedspread, towel, pashmina and sarong covered bed.  Upon exiting the shower, covered in two bath towels, I place and even larger thicker pool towel over my shoulders as I prepare to exit the room.  Upon exiting, I notice that although it is still chilly - I am dressed in socks, pants, a tank top tucked into the pants covered with a long sleeved shirt - it is warmer than previous days and certainly warmer than my room.  I reach the lobby at 8:15 a.m. unable to hide my feelings.  The dreariness of the rain has gotten to me.  My posture is slumped and my morning greetings are as damp as the covered walkways.  I realize my forced smile isn’t  fooling any of the staff and proceed to my office to deposit my backpack.  Hoping that in shedding the pack, I will regain my composure.  Today is transition - this weeks guest leave and next weeks guests arrive.  A challenge on a good day, dreadful on one like today.  I walk to the from desk, noticing that the guest luggage is obviously missing.  It’s 8:15 a.m., they are scheduled to depart at 8:45 a.m. - where is the luggage.  As I am attempting to communicate with Rodrigo at the front desk, Luc hands me the phone.  Under normal circumstances I can easily handle the halting Spanish conversation that occurs between Rodrigo and I while speaking in English to Federico (for he is on the phone) and preparing to speak some semblance of English/Spanish to Luc.  Today, however, proves not to be a normal day.  The staff has already scattered in search of the missing luggage.  Rodrigo’s needs seem to be more urgent than usual and I can’t understand him because my brain is trying to process why Federico is calling me and already preparing for the challenging conversation with Luc.  As Federico speaks, I realize what Rodrigo wants and motion for a pen and the transportation list so I may cross off the names of the guests who left early as a result of the weather.  For they will not be on today’s shuttle - they are already  in their homes having fled at 4:00 a.m. on Friday fearful that rain would prevent a timely exit today.  Federico wants to ensure that I have informed the guests that this weather is highly unusual.  “How are the guests?  Do they know this weather is not usual?  Are they complaining?  Did you tell them this weather is unusual?  It never rains for an entire week in March.  Did you tell them?”.  I am overwhelmed, I can only manage “Yes, of course I told them.  They know.  Of course they know, for I don’t have the right clothes and I have been cold - they know.”  My usual enthusiasm is noticeably absent and I can’t manage any more of a reassurance.  I feel badly.  Federico counters with “Charrito, you are a beautiful girl.”  Despite my perceived inability to reassure him, he is reassured as I can hear the smile in his voice.  I hang up, finish with Rodrigo, attempt to communicate with Luc.  When she misunderstands me - which is often and is always annoying as she works the front desk and never seems to understand anyone on the first attempt - the experiences of the entire week seem to slam into my body.  Before I realize what is happening, tears escape my eyes and my posture slumps even further.  I feel crushed beneath the weight of the rain, cold, questions, anger, fear, uncertainty and demands that comprised this week.  The tears just come, lightly.  Everyone freezes, not sure what to do.  Rodrigo appears embarrassed.  Luc just stands there eyes wide, mouth open.  I attempt to regain composure.  Miraculously Luc manages to understand my next question.  The tears stop, I learn the guests have checked out and the luggage is being picked up.  I head towards the restaurant stopping at the bathroom to compose myself further before facing the departing guests.  Before I can even walk over the threshold of the bathroom, one of the guests starts waving from the restaurant as if she is in dire need of help.  What could possibly be so important that she is chasing me down at the bathroom?  Can’t I just use the bathroom?  Why is she running towards me?  I pause while she explains her urgent issue.  It seems one of the staff has given her a bottle of salsa and she would like to tip the staff member, but the staff member is not working today.  Honestly, this guest is in a panic over this.  I calmly tell her it’s fine, I will take the tip and pass it along.  She continues to talk about her panic, wanting to launch into a long unnecessary conversation.  My normal tolerance, patience and understanding are drenched with rain solidified with the chill, I cannot offer my usual unwavering support.  I simply smile and excuse myself, pointing at the bathroom.  Now instead of splashing water on my face, which was my original intention, I walk into a stall close the door and cry some more, wondering how this became my life.  

As I enter the restaurant and overhear the guest conversation, the content of which makes me realize that I cannot join their table this morning.  I am barely holding it together.  Inane, non sensical, and violent conversation will only serve to push me over the edge.  I gather my breakfast from the buffet and walk into the bar area on the pretense of needing something from the staff.  When my appearance no longer attracts attention I proceed to the terrace and stand watching the river while I eat my breakfast.  After a few minutes, I realize the din of conversation has been replaced with silence.  I turn, walk back and gratefully realize the guests have migrated to the lobby - for they realize it’s time to go.  This is such a huge relief, as I do not have gather them and give them bathroom reminders as I do every day of the week.  I join them in the lobby and facilitate their boarding of the shuttle with hugs and kind words.  I board the shuttle and ask for room keys they may have forgotten to turn in at checkout, gather those and make my final departing announcement.   I disembark and send them on their way.  As the shuttle leaves the property, individual clouds start to form in the sky, allowing the sun to break through.  

I remove the long sleeve shirt, replace the socks and sneakers with sandals, grab a chair and walk into the driveway.  The sun can be fleeting after so much rain, so I don’t want to risk missing a moment of warmth by changing into shorts.  I sit in the driveway for 20 minutes, taking in the sun.  As it warms, the sky begins to open to puffy clouds and I realize I may get a couple of hours of sun.  I go to the pool for 30 minutes - still dressed.  Returning the the lobby to perform the same departure ritual for the second shuttle at 11:00 a.m.  The sun is still shining.  I change into a bathing suit, grab a book and spend two uninterrupted at the pool, letting the sun warm my body and my soul, renewing my tolerance, patience and enthusiasm while restoring the authenticity of my smile.