Lets get right into it, shall we? The rain has come to lay over our little island for the first time since I’ve been here. As the clouds fill the air and provide us with another week of fresh water, it’s refreshing to see everything change. Yesterday for the first time in weeks, I put on a long sleeve shirt, and it felt foreign. The skin on my forearm feels fragile to its touch, but provides a sense of calm, I suppose it reminds me of home. Five minutes later… Literally as I sit here to talk about the rain, the sun prevailed and pushed through the clouds, drying everything and once again… reminding us were are on an island. Thats just how things are here. This week, the majority of my time has been filled with diving. Assisting with classes and occasionally fun diving, I have seen everything from juvenile black tips to large grouper. Anything worth seeing hides underneath the large pinnacles of coral or digs itself in the sand. Ive trained my eyes to spot these hidden wonders, and have become quite good at identifying the marine life as well. Of all the amazing things Ive seen this week, the most astonishing site has come from our boat captain. He is a peculiar man, but an interesting one. He doesn’t talk much, not that I would understand him anyway. The language barrier between us does not cloud our communication however. I return from a dive, in which the student I was assisting threw up into his regulator (I suppose he was very nervous about diving…I also suppose he was a little bitch). When I return to the boat and assure myself that the young man will live and be okay, I head to the back of the boat to grab some fresh fruit, and wash the taste of salt water out of my mouth. As Im doing so, I make eye contact with the captain, who is sunbathing on the hot floor and doing something with his hands (Get your mind out of the gutter people). In one hand he holds a bit of white rice, which he acquired from a silver pot to his left, I suppose his breakfast. In his right hand he is holding a fishing line about 5 meters (fifteen feet) long, with a small hook at the end. Just before I was going to ask him what he’s doing, he swings his right arm up, along with a nice size fish attached the hook. Immediately my attention is caught, and I walk up to him. In front of him is a bucket, half filled with water and they other half filled with ten fish. He looks at me and smiles, and through the language barrier I can tell he knows Im impressed. I bing my hands to my mouth and question him. “You eat?”, I asked Again he smiles, and looks at the fish, not before rubbing his tummy and saying, “Mmmhhh”. I recognize his answer and ask him if I can sit and watch. Im sure you are asking what the rice is for, let me explain. What he does is place one single grain of white rice onto the hook. Once he’s done that he takes a handful of rice from the bowl and throws it into the ocean, and immediately the fish start to bombard it. Once he notices the fish are feasting on the rice, he drops the hook (with the one piece of rice attached) among the other sinking grains. The goal is a fish will mistakenly bite the hooked rice, and once it does, the captain brings the line up with his bare hands. I was so amazed by this method of fishing I called my buddy later on that night, who is addicted to fishing, and told him to try it. Later on that night I went to the local butcher and acquired some fresh chicken and vegetables, since Cassie and I bought a hot plate, and can now begin to cook our own food. As Cassie was at work, I began to prepare our dinner… a slow cooked concoction of chicken, potato, vegetables, rice, and various seasonings. I love to cook, and somewhat pride myself on being good at it. Once I set everything to cook on the hot plate, I set off to pick Cassie up from work, a simple task. Well, it turned out to not be that simple. Before leaving the house, I checked my computers time to assure that I would be on time, 4:45 it said. Right on time because Cassie gets off at five. Once I arrive at the usual spot where I pick her up, Im bewildered to see she is not there. Perhaps she is still walking? I park the bike and make my way to the beach she has to walk from work to the “spot”. What the hell? She isn’t there. I loiter for a few minutes before I start to get worried. Twenty minutes later… What the hell! If there is one thing Cassie is, its punctual. She is never late. My mind begins to run wild… Did she fall off the bridge into shark infested water? Has she been abducted? WHO GETS HER MONEY IF SHE DIES?! (just kidding….but probably me). Now I start to run about frantically. I make my way back to the house to get my phone, something I should have grabbed when I left to begin with. Now, after a ten minute drive back to the house, I am driving back to the “spot”, to get wifi at the local cafe and check my messages. Maybe she is trying to get in touch with me? Maybe the man who abducted her is trying to call me for ransom ?! Now sweating bullets I walk into the cafe to join the wifi…but not before ordering a coconut shake. Kidnapping make me thirsty. I connect and check my messages…nothing. Not a stitch of email, text, or message. Something is very wrong. I message Cassie on Facebook and say, “What the hell, where are you,” and I wait for a response. I see that she begins to type and begin to bite my upper lip…Im about to hear the terms and conditions of her safe return. “What?”, replies Cassie. Okay, now Im confused. “What do you mean what, Ive been looking everywhere for you!” “I get off at five dude…”, she says to me. And now, the stupidity sets it. I look at my phone time to discover it says 4:45. Had The last hour not existed, have I entered a time warp? Perhaps I forgot to reset the time on my computer to island time, and not eastern standard time. Shit, Im an idiot. The sweat begins to dry from my forehead, and relieved I don’t have to spend money to ensure her safety I apologize and try to laugh it off. She laughs at me and thinks its cute I was so worried. I laugh at myself and think I need medication. I finally begin to enjoy my shake and await her arrival. a few minutes pass and there she is, right on time and punctual as always. We ride back home and laugh about the chain of events I went through, before walking inside to an aromatic meal cooking in our kitchen. Moral of the story? Always be prepared for a kidnapping…