Looking Down On Aruba

[charlescroes]

Looking down on us can be a nice thing – I did it this week.

Junior has an erratic school schedule these days since the kindergarten teachers are taking tests. Nice to know. In any case, the comfort of having our son in school is now disrupted for a week and I am left with the task of inventing day-time-stuff for him to do with me. As a start, the Video rental store just loves me and on the other hand, I am feeling a bit guilty for subjecting him to all 2,000 segments of SCOOBY DOO. My wife wisely suggested that I take him out. We went out and the car found itself at the foot of our only slight mound – Hooiberg. My kid looks at me and says “Papi – ban subi te na alto” (Daddy – let’s climb to the top). We did.

Once getting there, and after catching my breath, the two of us sat on the top most step and looked down at Aruba. For what ever reason, Junior decided to look at the houses and count them to 10 over and over and over again.

My eyes drifted to the high rise hotels. There they stood all in a row. Semi white cubes of buildings holding the humanity that visits us on this very tiny island. The background for these little cubes was the blue waters that lap our shores while far out to sea the tankers or other vessels were moving along at their own pace. The sun splintered light from the hotel room windows and that light gave a shimmering ‘good-morning’ shine to the grounds in front of them. Further along the row of white cubes was a stretch of beach. I could see the wind surfers out there and the kites in the air. ON every windsurfing board was a small dot of a person while the kites had dangling riders below them. It was such a good use of the wind. The white beaches moved along and turned to cliffs in the Malmok area where a general peaceful feeling bathed the homes along the shoreline. On the main road along the ocean the cars carried children to schools that had teachers who had already taken their exams while other cars carried men and women off to be productive at doing something or the other. At the very point of the island I could see the lighthouse. Once it warned sailors off the coast line - now it showed the way to a restaurant. For me, on this splendid morning, it signaled the very point of the island.

My eyes drifted along the North coast where the redness of that earth was so very different than the white beaches. The air there had a salt mist in it that looked a bit like a winter day somewhere else on this earth. My line of sight kept going around on this empty land and finally came to the plumes of smoke that signaled the oil refinery. I thought about the refinery for a while and then looked over at Junior and saw him intently looking and counting to ten. The Southern coast was seemingly sparsely populated. Not true since there were many small homes hidden by the various mangrove and other obstructions. Little homes that were (and some still are) there because being on the leeward side of an island is where the best fishing normally is. I squinted and saw the mountains of Venezuela. From here they looked magnificent and did a wonderful job of hiding the pain that comes from the many lives lost in mud slides after strong rains. For some reason I thought about the people there. A fleeting thought but a thought none the less. Then the drive-in movie screen became obvious and finally the infra structure of the airport – a plane was landing. As I continues looking, my eyes came to the township of Oranjestad. Building after building nestled into each other speaking loudly about the power of cement, concrete and steel. On this small island that rests here in the Caribbean, the main town took on a momentary ugly look. Perhaps because it was a bit too much to look at.

The container towers stood next to a large floating city. A cruise ship had docked and it looked to be as large as our small town. In any event, it softened the appearance of our township. Perhaps it won the battle of pure steel – who knows?

The roof tops of three large supermarkets gave thought to the amount of food we consume and then the low rise resorts came into sight. They seemed pretty and very much in place. Small places for people to visit and stay and talk and bump into each other. I saw our hospital and then the bird sanctuary and a big yellow bus driving along a road close to it.

My son continued counting to ten,

I finally asked Junior what houses he had counted and he pointed to one small one. He told me he counted the house with the brown windows ten times.

From our vantage point, I looked down on and saw the Island of Aruba and there was to much there for me to understand. My little guy saw one house many times ten over and over again and knew that the windows were brown.


be well
charles

[carlysgram]

Thanks Charles. When I clicked on to your link, I thought I was going to see a photo from a satellite, but what I saw was much more through your words. Aruba at it's best. Thanks Laraine

[tico]

Charles my friend..as I have told you before your stories are helping to ease our pain and we enjoy them very much..this one realy made me homesick..just for fun so junior this one..go into google earth .com and fly over the entire island it's a lot of fun
Tico & Miss Judy

[Darryl]

Thank you, Charles! As usual, your prose has brought to mind many of the lovely sights for which we are 'homesick'! As I am writing this, we are on the phone with our travel agent, making the plans to 'come back home'!