I’m not sure where exactly my affinity for islands came
from. Perhaps it started while growing up in Hawaii ,
or perhaps my being a Pisces has something to do with it. Who knows? What I do
know, is that islands have been a significant part of my life for a very long
time and that the longer I am on an island the longer I’d like to stay.
Aside from Hawaii ,
where I spent two formative years, I’ve spent time on Roatán and Útila ,
Honduras when I lived and
taught there. I would go to the islands often to dive and get away from the
tiny town I lived in. One of my favorite places when I live in Chile
is the little known island of Chiloé
off the coast of southern Chile .
I had the unique experience of staying with my good friend, Belén in her family’s
cabin for the better part of a week. It was magical. I traveled the island
nation of Cuba
for a month last summer. I traversed the length of the island discovering all
that has been kept from Americans.
Most recently, I’ve fallen in love with a different island.
It is an island off an island. The island
of Vieques , Puerto Rico
captured my heart in 2010. I traveled
there and immersed myself in a Spanish language program in San
Juan and then took a ferry to one of two islands off
of Puerto Rico . With just over 9,000 people, Vieques is
tiny. Very few cars are on the island,
and it is the only place I have ever seen wild horses roaming the streets. Every beach I laid on felt like my own
private beach.
I saw more conch shells than people. The few bars on the island
were full of welcoming locals and ex pats.
Simply put, I felt at home, instantly.
I understand the trials and tribulations of island life. I
experienced rolling blackouts in Útila often.
I know that if I ever want to go to a movie theater or eat something
different than what the five or so restaurants on the island offer, I must head
to the mainland. I know this is not
exactly a fast journey, nor a dependable one. I understand the isolation of
island life. In fact, that might be what draws me most.
While on Vieques, I couldn’t stop thinking about one day
returning. This is something I usually do not do. I can’t return to a place when there is so
much I haven’t seen. Yet something about the simplicity and ease of the island
kept the idea fresh in my head for weeks and months after I returned, and I
started planning.
I thought about my snowbird folks, splitting their time
between Colorado Springs and Palm
Springs , California . Of course, being retired makes this a bit
easier, but I don’t think I have to be retired to make this work. I envision starting out with just a few
months. Renting a temporary place (which abound on islands) and bringing just a
few possessions, mostly my laptop and books.
I would use the isolation to write my novel. I picture myself at a table in an outside bar
just steps away from the beach, drinking Don Q and coke and typing away, taking
refreshing breaks every now and again in the ocean. For money I could teach online,
tutor whoever I could find on the island, and even possibly bartend (I’ve
always wanted to do it again.) I could make it work. I know I can.
Eventually I’d like to make it more of a full split, half my
time in Colorado where I would teach the remaining semesters and tutor as much
as possible to save up for the move, the other half in Vieques, while traveling
here and there throughout of course.
It surprises me that I am so keen to return to a place, but
I pretty much cannot stop thinking about it and know it’s what I need to do and
will do one day. The island life is the life for me!
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