On the sugar-white beach of Mozambique’s Bazaruto, her perfect figure was lying, like a dark-chocolate doll on the bed of coconut shavings. Cape breeze had brushed aside the Indian Ocean’s humidity, and the brilliant sun was burning on all engines, just to keep up with that cool Antarctic messenger.
She half opened her eyes and calmly asked, “Aren’t you past the Frisbee age?” Apologetic and admiring, I had to excuse for the splashing of sands … it all was the dog’s fault! Her eyes and smile blossomed wide for Keri – the irresistible Golden Lab, with a 4.0 batting average.
She charmingly forgave us and accepted a peace-offering. The chilled glass of “Dawa” cured her irritation – such ultimate treat for every ill. Must love those Swahili words with their playful roots tangled through so many Arabic delights!
Inevitably, the “where are you from” arrived to cruelly remind me of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Took a moment gulping my medicine – ice, sugar, lime and all – to come up with, “This week, or in general”? My irritation was forgiven, as with the sound of her charming laughter, she patted my wrist to counter, “Let’s start with this week”.
This week, we were trekking up the coast, all the way from Durban. Her gaze locked on my sorrowful eyes as she explored, “and before that”? There was no before that! I was abducted by the aliens who had wiped out my entire memory and abandoned me in S. Africa … after so much prodding and probing, of course!
She could forgive my elusiveness, my faults – like people do, when forged to meet in an unforgiving world. Besides, she was happy to witness my love of seafood … she couldn’t trust a man who didn’t like raw oysters. Her lips were round and inviting scallops, glistened with a subtle hint of olive oil. Her braided hair could catch a sea of fish. Her bright eyes could light the ocean night, from horizon to horizon.
I sat there under the gazebo, listening to her every story, complain and thought. She was basking in my admiration, and her dark face was burning like a never-ending lump of coal. All my jokes were funny. Her kind pats turned into holdings. We pranced to dancing and were thrilled by a kiss.
