A free morning and the good sense to get out on a boat and
go to one of the nearby islands. After landing, headed up the Jungle Trail,
which started out promising and became increasingly overgrown, with a few
questionable moments about where the path went. Ascended up the spine of the
island and for the first time, feeling real heat, my shirt soaked with sweat.
Not the least prepared for what to expect and no knowledge whatsoever about
plants or reptiles or other life forms that could be dangerous. But innocence
can often be a protector and I trudged on through dense foliage serenaded by
birds and the rustle of small lizards in leaves. Stepped over a branch that was
a super-highway for ants and was caught several times by a thin thorny vine
before starting to pay more careful attention. Arrived at the island’s end and
discovered a welcome paved lower path the 1500 meters back. At one point, some twenty feet away, spotted a rather large
Komodo dragonish lizard. Hmm. I stopped, he paused and then scurried off to the
side.
Back to the beach and into the welcome cool waters of the
South China Sea and then sit at a table in the shade to enjoy my book. And
that’s when I noticed my watch had stopped. Hmm. Never happened to me on a trip
and realized how much I depended on it. Now what? Alone in the jungle, I felt a
moment of timelessness Zen-style, but this was a different animal altogether. Luckily,
I still have enough social grace to actually ask other folks what time it is
and thus, made it back on time for the return boat trip.
Another remarkable lunch, though these extravagant buffets
seem to be the tests I persistently fail and my appetite to try everything is
not happy news for the return of the belly bulge. Then to the last of my four
workshops on singing and after three workshops without a single instrument
other than body and voice, some good-hearted people heard my request for a
guitar and lo and behold, there it was. And a conga! And though I loved playing
the children’s games with everyone and exploring the imaginative potential of
children’s rhymes and dancing the exuberant circle dances, there are few
pleasures in life as deep as sitting with a crowd of people—any age— with a
guitar and a bottomless well of great songs, each with interesting accompanying
stories.
Then the ritual post-workshop pool, read in the lounge chair
and watch the sunset, come back and get ready for dinner, which will include
some live music tonight. Let me say it once more: one could get spoiled with
this as the new standard for giving workshops. No more drafty gyms, hotels with
views of parking lots and Olive Garden dinners in shopping malls for me. My new
contract will either insist on castles in Spain or mountains in Austria or palm trees in Malaysia. Well, I’ll also take the beaches in Rio or the village in Ghana or the
temple in Japan. I’m flexible.
Off to dinner as soon as I find out one thing: Anyone know
what time it is?
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