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Archive for the ‘Evolution’ Category

When the beep-beep became a tick-tock

I woke up.

Something changed over the past week. My ears strained – there it was. The change. The whoosh of movement next door, captured by sensitive technology, alternated with a gentle tick-tock. I quickly checked the device, making sure it was working. Tick-tock? Comforted that it was fully functional, I tiptoed to her room.

A week ago the same baby monitor left my nerves in tatters.

Every sound from the machine echoed within me. My body responded with jumps and palpitations. The supposedly reassuring beep-beep indicating normal breathing from baby, jarred miniscule synapses between nerve-endings behind my eyes and inside my ears. With abnormal responses in my breathing.

It shattered the silence of the night with it’s rhythmic incantations. The slightest change jolted my eyelids, my own heartbeat drowned the beep-beep, my bare feet found their way to her bedside. Fumbling. A slow exhale normalized my symptoms as the precious parcel wiggled in her dream and expertly closed her mouth around the misplaced pacifier.

Anxious moments followed the dummy-in procedure, waiting for any kind of response and when there was none, the returning to my bed – wide awake. Cold and displaced. From where I then proceeded to watch the beeping monster on the bedside table and let the cycle repeat itself till the break of day.

By the third night I could distinguish between dream-moans and real-wake moans. I could inhale normally between the beep-beep and its unpredicted gaps or speed-ups. My heart did not escape through my throat. My mind did not chase after normal sounds around me. And I could avoid the stare down of the monster when I kicked off my slippers. I managed a few drifty hours of sleep.

By the fifth night I could casually stroll into her room (gowned and slippered), avoid eye contact and persist in establishing a sleeping pattern. I even had a few hours of blissful deafness towards the beep-beep. Although the sound remained invasive when not asleep. And I woke up to a knot-free stomach and un-puffy eyes. Without a glance towards the source of the sound.

Now it was a week later.

I gently surfaced to a sense of change. The mist of worry dissipated. I tiptoed to her side. Dummy in. Patted her on the back. Waited a moment to settle. Tiptoed back to my bed. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Sleeping pattern established. Tick-tock. Lulled back to my own sweet remains of a dream. Tick-tock.

It was with the sounds of sunrise that the reality hit me. Where did the piercing beep-beep go?

The power of adaptation. It re-established my admiration for the man and his theory – Darwin. A subtle change in sensitivity towards circumstances that makes the unbearable bearable. The choice of waiting and the reward of gaining.

The power of allowing beep-beeps to turn into tick-tocks.

I survived. I adapted. I waited. I gained.

2015-04-13 15.47.07

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32. Galapagos- Santa Fe Bay 2

 

 

Galápagos and Archipelago – unpronounceable at first (as I am another-mother-tonguer); two weird words supposed to name something. Together they meant a place I was going to go to – apart they confused me. The isles formed a map-able chain in the Pacific Ocean and they left an unforgettable spot in my travel memory.

That I even toyed with the idea not to include a visit to the Archipelago of the Galápagos while visiting friends in Ecuador in retrospect was madness. But, as I am only human, there was the usual doubt when I said goodbye to the familiar faces at the airport. Was it a good idea to go the remote unknown alone? My friends were continuing their tour in and around Quito (they’d already been to Galápagos) to make it easier for them to collect me on my return from the mysterious islands.

The flight to the main island was about an hour and half. The small-plane-sounds made casual conversation with the friendly-flushed-round-faced nun next to me uncomfortable and most of the niceties got lost in translation. I resorted to exploring.

Being seated by the window, geographic surveying was the logical first area of exploration,. The volcanic bubbles that made up the Archipelago, looked unwelcoming from the sky. Their aridity could not possibly be life sustaining – my thoughts contradicting the booklet I found in the seat pocket of the light airplane. According to Darwin the older the island – volcanic erupted rock, the more sophisticated the life forms and the better the chances of survival. And if one was stuck (like the Darwin Finches), they adapted or died. Darwin found proof for Evolution on these islands by comparing the beaks of dreary finches. The sizes and shapes of their beaks changed between the different islands, perfectly adapting to feed on different sizes of seed. The older islands are further from the volcanic activity and are covered with weird and fascinating fauna and flora – with tortoises and lizards the best known.

 

21. Galapagos-Plazas - Land iguana

Galapagos Plazas – dragon on watch

 

92. Galapagos - Santa Cruz - Darwin Station - lone George whispering sweet nothings

Santa Cruz – Darwin Station – lone George making a pass

 

51. Galapagos- Espanola- Punta Suarez sea iguana

Espanola- Punta Suarez Sea Iguana or Mermaid?

 

 

 

 

Inflight information was soon exhausted and scanning the vast water became monotonous. Thinking seemed better than snoozing and as the religious group seated around and next to me prompted spiritual searching, the evergreen debate of Darwinism versus Creationism topped my list.

So, the spiritual question that superseded the geography – what logic of evolution moved a group of Catholic Nuns to visit? My fellow traveller met my inquisitive glance with another angelic smile as if to say – “all life is beautiful and sacred, and I can read your mind, therefore my contentment.” Religion, conviction and judgment had no place here. Beauty, weird or wonderful was for all. I guiltily turned to the window again to look down on the approaching island. The biggest one and the only one with development, I read, only way to enter and exit the islands, here via sea and air. Named – Isabela – meaning ‘Devoted to God’. Ok…. I beamed an enlightened grin back at Sister Superior next to me.

That was the last of my holy encounter. Babelistic chaos around the luggage collection area churned me away from the nuns and deposited me amongst a sock-and-sandal crowd. A severe and guttural language dispersed all serenity. Clipped words lashed in loud banter amongst the excited group from Holland. My presence went unnoticed. The maelstrom whirled in a general direction towards the port.

Island guides surrendered to the scramble and obviously knew the wave of tourists could go no further than the water’s edge. Here they would then collect their flocks to direct them to the allocated boats from where all visitations of the islands took place under strict supervision. Was my trip going to be subdued and holy or competitive in a loud way?

 

44. Galapagos- Espanola - Gardner Beach - snorkel and smooch

Sealion Den

 

 

Signs with codes linked to boat names were bannered above the guides’ heads for all to see. I located my code on a crumpled plane ticket in my pocket. I was with The Guatuanamerra. It was to be my home for the next 6 days and 5 nights, its guide surrounded by the jolly Dutch. Once we were together on the deck I was noticed – the only single female traveler. Fortunately I knew that everything was pre-arranged with the travel agent. A single accommodation was secured with a supplement paid.

 

As our guide, with his charming local accent, readied himself and us for the rules-and-regulation session I used the time to slip to the bathroom downstairs before the usual rush. On returning to the deck there was a stiff atmosphere and groups separated with a hushed anticipation. The guide walked over to me and asked in an unusual sympathetic tone after my name and booking arrangements. “No problem”, I had the paperwork ready and produced it with confidence. “Um, did you not get the latest correspondence from the booking company?”

 

There was to be a change in schedules and an amalgamation of groups as the chartered boats were half full. The travel company thought it best to combine half loads – economically more viable of course – my notification of these arrangements disappeared in the weeks traveling Ecuador prior to Galápagos. So did my single supplement along with the request for private accommodation. A bigger noise of displeasure arose amongst my Dutch fellow females. The loud objections made me feel uncomfortable and I felt myself leaning to the opposite scale of moan, to quietly accept and let it be. The confusion of the fusion of ferries and foreigners – it sounded like a song along with the wailing women. But in the end there was too much of a flabbergasted fuss, which I could not participate in.

 

70. Galapagos- Floreana- Punta Cormorant stingray spotting

House Mates

 

 

I took the modification of arrangements with relaxed contentment (thanks to my blessed nun experience). Our guide flashed his relief in a Colgate Commercial way. I won a best friend for the duration of the trip. It was a simple matter of teaming up with one of the three gentlemen that then faced me. See? Easy. Just choose a roomie on the one side and ignore the judging couple-crowd from the other side.

I looked at my new best friend, I could not choose, my eyes shouted at him. For three very different reasons – one was from France and oozed the part, the other was from Germany and sounded the part, and the third was from Jerusalem and looked the part. How could I just pick one without deserving the Dutch Judgment? Best-friend-guide fiddled with the last 2 cabin keys, avoiding eye contact. A single sentence from me stilled the keys and jolted his attention “No, YOU choose,” and turned my back on the three. I was prepared to share my cabin with what fate handed me – but still I crossed my fingers for France. I got Jesus.

 

74. Galapagos- Floreana- unlikely roomies

Omer and Self

 

 

It was better than sharing with any girl. There was space in the cupboard and enough time in front of the mirror and no clashing wafts of perfume. The cabin was designed for three people, the bathroom for half. There was a double bed all for me. Omer got the bunk. The boy asked permission before using the room, at any time of day. He sneaked to his space after dinner and left me with the Germans and the French for a nightcap on the deck. By the time I went to bed, he was fast asleep (or pretended to be) with earphones in and cabin neat, to withdraw like a mouse the next morning again.

Getting TO the Galápagos was a singular experience. Being IN the Galápagos turned out more thrilling than anticipated, as was being part of evolution. It demands a million words … at least now I know more about two words: Archipelago means a large body of water with many islands and Galápagos is Spanish for ‘tortoises’.

 

55. Galapagos- Espanola- Stairway to heaven via Punta Suarez

Watch your step, while being watched

 

 

 

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