Tag: diario @en

July 11 / Life

Are you sailing or flying back?

The fact that this question can even be made, it means that there are options.
-Flying, this time I’m flying.

I bought an airplane ticket that will take me back to Mexico in thirty-something hours by plane, but the journey to come here took me almost a year on a sailboat. The world can be a bizarre place.

Yesterday I dreamt that I finally left the island, that L was taking me to the airport, that my passport was expired, and I didn’t know if Mexico would recognize me.
I’ve changed so much. I don’t even remember how tacos taste.
That’s why I bought a return ticket because one day I said: “my grandmother’s food” but I no longer knew what I was talking about; seems that I don’t remember anymore, that I am rather inventing, and this can be scary.

I left behind my home, friends, my brother while he was still a kid , my nephew when he still didn’t know how to speak, my dogs when they were not yet old, my cousin when she was single, my grandfather when he still lived. I mean, children grow, the older get older, the food gets eaten without me, my friends are getting drunk, and my girlfriends are marrying and having weddings with an empty seat that has my name.

These are the big and small sacrifices for the one who goes away and makes small families everywhere. We have houses and dogs, and the routines of the day, even if for others this place is far and unknown, to me is close and familiar. Here I have a small family, the wind brought me to New Zealand and I have woven a life.

I telephoned my grandmother, she was so happy, we laugh.
Grandma, I said, I’m calling on Skype,
(Although she does not know what Skype is)
She tells me: Hija, every day I think of you,
and I think: many kilometers behind the sea
half a turn of Earth separates us
but I call you and you still say:
Hija! every day I think of you.

Then I got hungry and bought a flight ticket back.

Photo: Halfway between Mexico and New Zealand 2013, Tom took that GPS screenshot, perhaps in Bora Bora or Mopelia, or at one of those invisible islands.

Note: This and most of the post are originally written in Spanish.

June 19 / Diary

We all have those little parts of ourselves that we like to hide. It may be a middle name, the high school Prom photo, or that you failed the fifth grade.

Margarita didn’t like me probably because is diminutive, and I wanted to be related with something strong, to have bigger hands to hold stronger, to be more “real”. Now I don’t care about diminutives, now I don’t wish that anymore. I see that is not the size of the hands, but its determination.

Why do we need to be taken so seriously?
Perhaps, deep down we want to be anchored to the ground, become mountains, and we are afraid of the lightness of being made of air and blood.

Getting drunk in a bar in London with A (that man with woman’s name) I said: A, I don’t understand why people tell me I should “take it more serious”, while actually I am not able to believe entirely anything that is said in this world; sometimes I feel like a character playing different roles, changing outfits as life needs”. That night we laughed so much, as we always did in the office too. – Do you think that’s why women do not take me so seriously? I laughed with him until dawn. Deep down, A is like me, he doesn’t care if he seems to have soft hands and yet his hands are big and strong. After that time, he went to India to work in an NGO. I took a sailboat and learned another game, one about wind and waves.

– I seem to be so small, so soft, so full of blood,
susceptible to change, the wind, or the sun
I live here in my chest, my hands, my feet that are cold,
within all this, vast space inside…
Is it really that being so small, I am so strong?

 2/10/2013  – Bahía Paraíso, Jalisco.

I weak up.  I ‘m locked in a compartment. There is a bed and a wooden little door is imposing distance from the rest of the boat . I feel that everything is rocking from side to side , but we are anchored… still in an open bay. There is a sound of animals scratching the bottom of the boat, Paul says they are shrimp and when he sleep ashore he misses the sound. I dreamed a lot, I had dreams of guilt with my mom and my sister, then I dreamed of my friends in Guanajuato and then with Perla… Wake up in the sea shakes the mind, it plays games,  it takes the mind from of all the known. On the other hand, I feel as part of something else, closer to the world itself, that individually. I see a spectacular sunrise from the horizon, it is amazing to see this landscape … and feel that I am part of it, here floating in the water…  I look our neighbors anchored in the other side, they also see the sunrise with their coffee cups, is a stillness that can be felt even . As if all of our questions were already answered…

There is two hours of the day where all the answers are given: sunrise and sunset.


Amanecer en el ancladero. Jalisco



¿How’s life on the boat?

At least in the couple of weeks I’ve been on board Romany Star, we moved the boat during the day, in the evening we anchored in a bay, Paul and I took turns cooking.

I have been learning the basics of sailing, I know how to raise the main sail but I’m learning all the terms in English. It’s so funny that my life happens in English when I am still in Mexico, but it is the language board and I haven’t been ashore in over a week. In the morning Paul plays harmonica, sometimes we go to do snorkeling, swimming, read a lot, write, and there is just so much time to be doing “nothing”. The sense of time as change radically…   does not matter much using clocks, calendars, although I felt this way since last year, in the boat is so natural.

The sense of time in the sea … is defined by the wind.



Why to go in a boat?

Many ask me why I am doing all this.  I do not have answers that make sense. One day I felt just I would really like to live on a sailboat, I said: I will travel and live on a sailboat. I do not expect that will made ​​me happy, or I’m on the last quest for the meaning of life, or neither I am trying to  “follow my dreams ” … the truth is that I just felt like doing it. I must confess that sometimes … something on me wishes there was one of those “reasons with height” but no… It would give a “sense” of something that lacks it and doesn’t need it. Does have be always a reason, why do it?



Today was my turn to cook; I learned that on a boat the kitchen is called: Galley. Humorous but all in a boat as a different name, the bathroom is the: head … funny too.

Today we spoke with Paul at dinner about his last divorce and he’s still dealing with letting go and forgetting his ex – wife since they still love each other but she’s tired of live in a boat.  Then I wondered if I’m the one who sees things very simple or maybe I have not much experience with these issues of relationships and breakups… I do not know what to say besides: enjoy that too, but it seems not to be a very logic advice.

I have thought about the concept of Enjoy and I think the interpretation I give differs radically from others, could sound kind of crazy if you compare it with other ideas. Enjoy for me is living in the moment, moment by moment no matter if is a happy one or not. I can enjoy sadness, nostalgia, uncertainty. And know not explain how! But I know that one can enjoy not having money or having it. Living with someone or being alone. I think within the limits of masochism … you can enjoy it all.

 “Paradise is where I always Am

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What Desafío Creativo is?

Is a Dynamic  that started in Caminomundos.  The challenge is to do some creative work for 30 consecutive days, can be posts, poems, pictures, etc. Do you want to participate?

HERE: This is a creative writing experiment where I’m mixing my dairies. Sometimes I write from the present or sometimes I just post my old dairy that I wrote when I live aboard a sailboat for one year.