The hammock stretched taught between the white stucco walls of my patio. It’s “belly” sagging precariously beneath the weight of, my own belly. Contrary to what I’ve always heard, these things aren’t so comfortable. Matter of fact, I think I feel the beginnings of a backache coming on.
It is night, the patio dark. Looking up from my under-sprung slumber, I can see only the bottom of my palapa (palm leaf) roof. Layer upon layer of palm fronds woven into a thatch-like roof supported by peeled lodge poles. I can imagine the artistry required to produce this long lasting and nearly waterproof roof.
Funny, the paths your brain takes in moments of idleness, innit?
Momentarily abandoning my serious inspection of the underside of my palapa roof, I turn my gaze to the left, through the peeled lodge pole railings of my patio and out onto the now dark night and the virtual jungle that is the courtyard three floors below. This little jungle is one of largely coconut palms, ficus , banana palms, even an almond tree. It comes as quite a surprise as you enter into this wholly enclosed courtyard from the street.
My eyes adjust to the light, the full moon above shone through the partial clouds and creates a filtered effect as it passes through the fronds and leaves of the jungle. Strange shapes appear and just as easily disappear.
Across and to the far rear of the courtyard, a golden hued light shines from a stairwell. Before it the giant leaves of a banana palm sway in the gentle breeze, looking all the more like the ears of a great elephant, flaring and waving before the golden glow.
My senses slowly awaken to the front and across from me, the little palapa roofed “Papa’s Bar”, it’s evening crowd just beginning to settle in. The chatter of the guests, the "klink klink" of the glasses and bottles. This evenings performer, a blues artist begins . A not to loud but not too soft Delta Blues number wafts up through the jungle and into my slumber. I don’t recognize the tune, but I do like the blues, I find it very pleasant.
I am content. I am aware of noises coming from the street. I’m sure they were there all along, it’s almost as though I’m waking up and first becoming aware, Voices. I hear voices. Near, far, certainly to the end of the block.
A staccato conversation., Spanish, maybe Italian, just below my patio. Two people I think, back and forth. A bit loud, but jocular, I think.
The low roar of car tires as it passes down the cobbled street and by me. A “ka-thunk ka-thunk”, a bit further down as it runs over something sounding like metal in the road.
Yeah... I think I’ve been hearing this all along, I’m not sure.
Multiple conversations. A cacophony from across the street, a little café, counterpose to those from Papa’s Bar below in the corner of my courtyard.
Blue and red lights flash off of the white stucco walls and the bottom of my palapa roof. I know this to be, maybe not the first, but defiantly not the last pass of the municipal police down the street outside my patio. It is one of the many rhythms I’ve come to expect.
Wow! What was that? A shadowy figure, caught from the corner of my eye. It swooped through the canopy of the “jungle” beside me. What was it? Did I imagine it? Do they have owls here?
The full moon has risen higher. It’s golden light more penetrating the “jungle canopy”. It flickers as the soft breeze sways the fronds and leaves.
The same breeze, blowing across me, relieving the hot moist air of the early evening. It feels so sweet!
I hear it! I hear crickets, no, maybe cicadas, singing softly in the foliage. How had I not heard this?
An Elvis tune? Don’t know Elvis well, punctuating the insect symphony.
“Ka-thunk ka-thunk”, another car passes below. A scooter buzzes and farts along not far behind. A car horn honks just up the block.
Garlic! I smell wonderful garlic! Waves of it.
The jumble of voices, the café across the street, Little Papa’s Bar, one, then another. People walking this way or the other way. The voices rising as they approach and receding as they move away.
Klink! Creeeak! Thonk! The big wooden door into the courtyard below, someone has come in, no wait, or was it out? No in. I hear their footsteps on the flagstones below. Back corner, opposite the “elephant”. I look in his direction. His ears flaring in a defiant challenge. I hear the key at the lock, it opens, with a soft thunk, the door closes.
Papa’s crowd a bit louder, the air of a party just trying to begin. A female voice has joined tonights music A strong, beautiful voice, singing the sweetest blues.
Red and blue lights flashing off the white stucco walls and the bottom of my palapa roof.
“Ka-thunk ka-thunk” as he runs over what ever’s in the road.
Honk of a horn. Someone yells at someone, maybe passing by on foot. What language was that anyway? No matter.
The breeze ruffles the fronds of the palms. The fringe of my palapa.
Low chirp, chirp, chirp of a bird in the canopy, disturbed by something? I don’t know what.
The crickets, or cicadas, the symphony goes on.
Wood smoke, meat cooking. Wow, what a smell! Grilled meat. Where? Where is it?
Like an exclamation point! A trumpets sound sears through the nighttime air. A beautiful, forceful sound. A Mariachi Band? For a moment I hear little else, commanding my undivided attention. Fading, as if turning a corner. Muted, more muted now.
The cacophony of voices returning. Soft Jazz wafting up from Papa’s. The “klink klink” of glasses and bottles.
The now lessening “ka-thunks ka-thunks".
A “rattle, rattle rattle” of a roll-up metal garage door, the kind shop-owners roll down to close-up their shops, rendering the shop invisible to the passerby and hopefully impenetrable to the would-be thief.
Who knew!
Who knew all of this was just outside my patio?
I had surrendered myself to the moment, and, I had found an evenings entertainment. A feast for the senses. The sights, the smells and the sounds, all painting a rich tapestry of the night.
And time? I don’t know. 30 seconds, 30 minutes, or three hours? I just can’t be sure.
Does it matter?
And. Tell me. Where? Where am I ?
Ouch!!
These things really are uncomfortable!
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