Flamenco

1,868. That's the amount of people here based on the 2000 Census, now it's 1,818.
Desolate, quiet, almost eerily peaceful, maybe 50 of those people left for that
reason; maybe 2 or 3 died, who knows. All we know is that at night, around
7pm when the ferry has gone, all you can hear are the songs that people sing at
the church.

He stayed at a small two floor inn at Ensenada Honda, where an overnight stay
turned into two because of water although the water here is nothing compared
to the beach a mile or two down the road. The owner, a Nuyorican from the Bronx
with a raspy voice is used to people like him,

"I don't miss the trains nor the rats in New York, but I do miss all the bums.
There is a Chinese restaurant in town, don't go there unless you want to have
nightmares."

She offered him the room that overlooks the bay. It was a small efficiency with a
stove and a mini-fridge. No need to cook here.

"In the morning people go by the dock and see the day visitors coming in from
Fajardo. It's a sight to see; the tackiness of tourists and the simplicity of
townsfolk." She's right, by 830am you can see the ferry arriving and a whole flock
of people opening up theirs stores and sitting on the benches that overlook the
Carribean. He couldn't but help to look the other way.

"Vieques Niño," an older woman with a crooked smile but genuine heart told him.
Vieques, the other and bigger of the two islands. Once the ferry docks, the
small island starts to come alive; parents screaming after their kids, couples
yelling at each other, and the oohs and aahs of tourists who have never been in a
small island before. You can almost see the excitement in their eyes for taking
such a risk.

A small 12 seat shuttle awaits to head over Playa Flamenco. He had heard about it
from someone while going underneath the Camuy Caves 3 days prior.
" You can see your reflection swim ahead of you in the water."

"Aqui estamos," the driver says as he parks on a dirt road. Some ran out, parents
yelling after their kids, tourists gasping and taking pictures. We're not even at
the beach yet and that's just a banana shack you're taking a picture off, he
thought to himself. He walks on.
Then the ground turned white like crystals on your feet, and the lullaby of the
Caribbean summoned him towards the water. The freshness of the air was something
to get used to, something to get acclimated to, but after awhile, it's breathing in
Hibiscus.
Looking out, one wonders if Genesis took place here; where the blue Sky, the green
ocean and the white land meet to create. He walks into the water and saw his feet
clear as glass. After a few minutes of being there, he realizes that he is no
longer thinking. His mind dissipated and his body became alive. He saw it go down
into the ocean and saw himself immersed in the water. And like a mirror beneath his
floating body, his own reflection appeared. He smiled, waved, laughed bubbles then
swam off into the horizon.