Thursday, February 13, 2014


I am often confused about what people on this island consider a “short cut”. Consider my old host house. As I walked out of the door there was a dirt path that lead to the mail road. Before arriving at the main road I had the option of turning left onto another dirt path that would lead to another left that went to the main road. In my opinion this distance was the same. Thing about a box. You could go up and then over, or over and then up and end up in the same spot. I accepted this though, because everybody was convinced this was the better path. The road better traveled or something. I admit though, when I was alone, I rebelled… I went the way I wanted.

The listening to locals about their short cuts thing took a turn for the worse the other day when Michelle and I made our way to the beach across the street. As you walk along the paved road you have the option of turning right and then turning left to stay on paved road, or going straight and then turning right on a dirt path. I was told that following the paved road was a “bad idea” and that we needed to go straight more often, because it was a short cut.

This is a picture of our short cut.

If you think the “mud” is mud, you would be wrong. If you think the “mud” is cow poop, you would be right.
My beautiful room mate was wearing sandals. It had recently rained. We could see the hoof prints from where the cows had walked this path with the farmers this morning. The poop squishing through her toes and the smells drifting through my nose. It was a glorious day to take a walk! 

This is a picture of my super sexy leg muscles  leg covered in little stickies. They didn't particularly hurt, but they did itch. No me gusta. 

When we reached the end of the path, realized the short cut wasn’t any shorter, and took note of the fact that we could have been on an actual sidewalk the entire time, we both decided to ignore the idea of a local “shortcut” from now until the foreseeable future. 

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