It's not so much that the charms of certain things wear off. The charms are still there, but slowly, the stink filters through the perfume.
I've spent a lot of time in Universities. I barely know what to do with myself if I'm not on campus and don't have access to a good library. This is something that I am only realizing now that I have spent the better part of three months away from the familiar patterns of University life: sleep in until panic sets in, read a little, write a little, eat breakfast, go to the library, read more, write more, go to the gym, watch a little t.v. and so on. University life seems to be a constant struggle to delay or deny deadlines. It is structured around procrastination. This is even true (or perhaps especially true) of administration: a maze of committees and requests and repeals of requests. Finding myself lacking this familiar structure of procrastination, I took a crowded bus to the Universidad Autonoma de Santo Domingo, hoping to find a library and the energy of more than a hundred and seventy thousand procrastinating students. I wander around for a while, comforted by the institutional architecture and the omnipresent construction of newer, better buildings. Walking up to the library I am told by what appears to be a bouncer, that I can't go in. I asked why and was informed that people wearing shorts cannot enter the library. It's forty degrees and I am expected to cover my legs out of respect for the gods that live inside books? Walking away I realized that it seems I was the only one on campus not wearing long pants. We do what we do because it is done. Self consciously, I walked around the rest of the campus wondering what is so disrespectful about my legs. Just a few days before, Steph had been kicked out of a church because her dress only went down to her knees.
It took a couple weeks to realize that my hair and my finger nails are growing like crazy. At first I thought I was imagining it, but it's true: hot climates raise the blood pressure and increase the blood flow to your hands and head, which in turn increasing hair and finger nail growth. I need to cut my nails twice a week. I've already had a haircut and am just about due for another one.
When the rain comes, it's like someone is turning on a shower. Usually, it pours straight down in a torrent of all consuming flood waters and completely transforms the view. If it rains for more than a day the walls begin to leak and the water creeps across the tiles forming inexplicable pools in the middle of the room. Sometimes the rain is a welcome relief from the unrelenting sun. But when it comes as a tropical storm it shuts down the whole city and nobody can stay dry.
You make it through a couple weeks without too many encounters with ants and cockroaches. The weather has been good, it's not so hot that you can't breathe and so far no hurricanes. You haven't even had a sunburn, yet your skin is bronzing nicely and hair is turning blond. The food is good (no Diarrhoea yet) and the rum is cheaper than wine. Guilt hasn't overcome you when you see the poor people, because they're not that poor, right? You are finding enough to do so that you don't go crazy. You don't have cholera or Dingue fever or Malaria. But this is not like home. You don't belong here. You will always be called “Americano” or “gringo” when you walk down the street. What are you doing walking anyway, in shorts and sandals no less. Daily things are consolation for the inevitable turmoil of the planet. The view of earth is so serene from the moon and this Island is a paradise from ten thousand feet as your plane approaches the runway, just a twenty minute air-conditioned bus ride from the resort. On the ground the streets are clouded with the haze from burning (still) leaded gasoline. You can smell the garbage and can't escape the ants, mosquitoes or cockroaches.
In too many ways I came here to escape real life and find a little bit of paradise in the sun. Perhaps I wanted to keep procrastinating my life away, but I'm beginning to realize that it's better to accept the realities of where you are. It's better not to be caught in the heat without your nail clippers.