La Estrategia de la Seducción.

Rosy lips, bright eyes, and a flower in her hair. She batted her eyelashes and spoke softly about parallel universes.

I had one week.

One week to soak up as much sun as possible, to enjoy being in paradise, to not have to make my bed or cook dinner or wash dishes but mostly, to pretend that my life up north didn't exist. I was on temporary stasis.

I was with a friend of mine, recently divorced and ardent to move ahead. I had told her that this country was home to many beautiful people, and she noticed quite quickly enough too. Before long, I became accustomed to a phrase that I heard at least twice per hour.

Check him out!

Yup. Was my automatic response.

I had been jumping from one relationship to another for the past several years and this was my year to be alone. I had not been involved in anything serious for the past sixteen months, and I was enjoying being by myself. For the first time in my adult life, I could actually go on dates and not see nor imagine where the relationship was going. I wanted none of it. I told them from the get-go. It was liberating! I was working out regularly, I ate healthy food; it was all about self-improvement for me.

My friend, we'll call her Shelby, was on the prowl while I sat back with earbuds tucked in, ipod playing my customized playlist of fun, carefree, whimsical, summer pop songs. The wind blew in the palms, making the branches swing from side to side, crowds of people walked by, exotic birds fluttered past me, all to the rhythm of my music. I saw Shelby's lips move. I took out one earbud.

What?

Check him out!

Yup.


More after the jump...

 

The Tourist Zoo.

In this zoo, the animals are kept in air conditioned rooms and fed Mojitos and Daiquiris, daily, in giant thermos mugs.

As you step out of the airport, you are faced with rows of buses waiting to bring you to your hotel. Reps are waiting, clip pad in hand, while occasionally shouting the names of different hotels, wearing a shirt with the logo of the company that sold you your package. Some are Canadian, who are shipped off to sunny destinations on temporary contracts.

 It seems that they applied for these jobs in the hopes of adventure in an exotic locale, and that reality set in when they realized that they'd be working six days a week while staying in the shittiest room a resort has to offer, the one with the broken air con. They're tired and bitter. Here you are, bursting out with shiny eyes and your new summer wear, while they may have had food poisoning again for the second time that week, and woken up with a cockroach nestled in their hair. Oh and they're getting paid peanuts, which means they'll come home with empty pockets and irritated intestines.

In Cuba, it's all about the all-inclusive. You needn't worry about anything, except maybe paying for excursions and if you are generous, tips for the staff. Some have proudly brought a roll of American dollars. They'll be sorely disappointed the following day, as they try to book an excursion to Chichen Itza.

 Yes but I paid one price, I am not dishing out any more! will say an angry tourist. Okay, but did you know that they make an average salary of $20 a month, sometimes less? Did you know that they lack basic necessities like toiletries and headache medications? will say a more informed and obviously, more sympathetic tourist.

Angry tourist is hard to sway. He's been to other places before, he knows his business, he says. He's been to the Dominican Republic and Mexico. It's all the same! Soon enough, the debate ceases and angry and sympathetic tourist are both too busy admiring the palm trees and drinking their fourth Mojito to continue the conversation.

More after the jump...