Girl off the Grid

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Girl off the Grid Page 9

by Jillian Dodd


  “You’ll probably want to wear your field pants, hiking boots, and a light-colored top. For tomorrow night, you’ll just want whatever you sleep in, a toothbrush, and then a change of clothes. Make sure you also bring sunscreen and bug spray. The following day, we’ll visit a volcano, but we will check into our lodge before we go, so you can clean up first.”

  “Okay,” Camille says, trying to sound peppy, but failing at it.

  “Hey, Camille, are you ready to go do those other photos? The lighting should be just about right,” I say, fibbing. It’s still a little early for the perfect light, but I hope it will cheer her up. It seems odd seeing her unhappy. She’s always so upbeat—even when it’s annoying.

  “That sounds great,” she says, brightening.

  “I will be in the main building if you need me,” Diego says. “I am going to finish up some paperwork and then give the family a call.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I say, getting up. “Oh, wait. What time do you want us ready?”

  “Early. Let’s plan on leaving at 6:45,” he says.

  “Okay. Goodnight.” Camille waves at him then follows me outside.

  “Uh, I need to sit for a minute,” she says, almost to herself as she makes her way in the direction of a hammock. The sky is streaked with color, and the breeze is picking up as sunset approaches, ruffling the palms and making the most relaxing sounds.

  Camille sits down in defeat and looks out at the water. “I didn’t sign up for camping,” she pouts.

  “Well, take it from someone who has been camping a couple dozen times, it’s not that bad. It is just you and nature—pretty wonderful, really. I think you will like it.”

  “What is so wonderful about sleeping on the ground? I just don’t understand, camping does not equal Fashion Forward to me. Unless we are glamping, you know, like they do at Coachella.”

  “What is glamping?” I chuckle.

  “It’s a glamorous form of camping—kind of boho. But nice. Like pretty tents all set up and waiting for you with little cots draped in Frette linens.”

  “I don’t think they glamp in Panama. Do you want me to go ask Diego?”

  “No. He will think I’m being ridiculous, and rude, and a spoiled American brat. Ugh!” She looks up at me through long lashes.

  “Camille, not to be rude, but you do realize you signed up for an eco-tourism trip, right? I mean, do you actually understand what eco-tourism is?”

  “Of course,” she replies confidently, but I raise my eyebrows in question. “Well, fine. Actually, no, I suppose I don’t. I just figured they meant I would be outdoors a lot and stay at a hotel that’s green,” she says, which makes me chuckle.

  “Eco-tourism is often in an exotic environment which is threatened. It is supposed to help promote conservation efforts of the area. It’s meant to be an alternative to traditional tourism because its goal is to have a low impact on the local environment and resources. It’s not just some fad word or statement to be thrown around, it’s really important.”

  She looks at me intently, and I’m surprised when the next words out of her mouth are, “You can sit next to me, you know.”

  But I’m not sure if I want to sit next to her right now. She looks like she can’t decide if she wants to cry or punch me. But she scoots over, making room, so I decide the best thing to do is probably sit—or she might completely lose it.

  “It will be alright, I promise,” I say reassuringly, even though I have absolutely no idea what kind of environment we’ll be in. “And, hey, I’ll be there, too, so it’s not like you’re going to be alone. And if you get bored, or scared, or whatever, we can play cards. I always carry a deck with me. Now come on, cheer up. We have a photo shoot to finish, remember?” I give her a smile. Her face brightens a little but not enough, so I tickle her—which causes her to scream-laugh. “See, you can’t be that upset if you’re laughing.”

  “Stop that, it tickles,” she screams, trying to wriggle away from me.

  “That’s the point!” I continue moving my fingers across her sides.

  She moves quickly, jumping on top of me and attacking me with tickles, which catches me off guard. All of a sudden, we flip out of the hammock, and I land on top of her. Her body is pressed against mine, and her breath catches, leaving me feeling paralyzed. Her gaze locks on mine, but then she looks at me with wild eyes.

  “Look what you did,” she huffs, bringing her hand up to her head. “My hair is full of sand. How am I supposed to get this out?”

  Really? Well, there goes the moment I thought we were about to have. What is wrong with me? Of course, we didn’t have a moment. She is a spoiled brat. She throws a fit about everything. I was trying to be nice and understanding. But, no—shouldn’t have done that.

  I get up, not bothering to offer her my hand. “Sorry. Guess you’ll have to figure it out yourself. I’m going to grab my camera. Go change so we can get this over with.” I stomp away. I know I’m acting like a child, but I don’t care. I’m pissed.

  Once I’m in my room, I calm down then feel like an ass. I scolded her for throwing a fit and then basically threw one of my own. I get my camera out and ready, then sit on the front porch and wait for her.

  Twenty minutes later, she walks out of her cabana.

  “Look,” she says. “I’m sorry for the way I acted back there. I was a jerk. You were being nice and trying to help, and I just got—overwhelmed.” Her cheeks turn slightly pink. “Please don’t be mad at me. Are we alright?” she asks, her eyes pleading.

  “Yeah, of course. It wasn’t my finest hour either. You look—” I was going to say great, but as my eyes slowly linger down her body, I know it’s not enough. She has on a shimmery, sand-colored dress that hangs almost to the floor, but it’s tight against her skin in all the right places. “—nice,” I end up saying, chickening out. What I should have said is that she looks beautiful.

  “Thank you. I really love this dress, and thought it would be perfect for by the water.”

  “Let’s head down there. Are you okay getting the ends of it wet?”

  “Yeah, I can picture it trailing in the water behind me.” She takes off down the stairs, allowing me to stare at the sight of her retreating. The thin straps that hold up the front of her dress dip down her back then come together at the base of her spine, forming a deep V. The shimmery fabric flows over her backside in a very alluring way.

  I swallow hard, trying to focus on the photos I need to take.

  When we get to the water, she walks straight out into it then looks over her shoulder at me—well, at the camera. Her hair is curly and floats over her shoulders, but she gathers it to one side. I snap away at the beautiful sight.

  The breeze catches her dress, making it float on the water, and the result is stunning. Between her, the ocean, and the leftover pink light from the sunset, these photos may turn out to be the most beautiful ones I’ve ever taken.

  I keep snapping away but then she fully immerses herself in the water. When she stands, I take in her soaked dress, mercilessly clinging to her body. I never fully realized how beautiful the human body could be until this very moment.

  Coming back to the present, I yell to her, “Alright. That’s perfect. I think we’re good.”

  She saunters over to me, smiling. “I’m so excited to see them. That was crazy, I’ve never done anything like that. It was such a different experience than the other photos. I felt—almost vulnerable.”

  “Your emotion is what’s going to make the photos.” I smile down at her. “You really are a natural in front of the camera.”

  “The water is really beautiful,” she beams. “I can see why you would want to take a swim in it at night—” She stops mid-sentence and darts her eyes away from me. What is she talking about? A night swim? Oh.

  “You were watching me?” I almost shout.

  “I didn’t do it intentionally,” she squeals. “You practically stripped in front of me!”

  “Were you the one who was
making the noise? I thought I heard something, but when I turned to look back no one was outside so I thought I was fine. Were you like checking me out or something?”

  “No! I fell asleep in a hammock and when you went by you woke me up. I was still kind of out of it, so I didn’t say anything then all of a sudden you were stripping, then naked, and when I turned away I flipped myself out of the hammock.”

  I’m trying to gauge whether or not she enjoyed seeing me naked, but she’s staring at me stone-faced, so I plop down into the sand, looking pathetic. “How humiliating.”

  “Oh, stop,” she says, smiling at me. “I am the one who should be embarrassed. If it makes you feel better, I army crawled all the way back to my cabana so you wouldn’t see me.”

  “It doesn’t really,” I huff dramatically, totally pretending to be upset.

  “Fine,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You have a nice ass. There I said it. Do you feel better now?”

  “Absolutely,” I grin. “See, I knew you were checking me out.”

  “Oh, shush.” She leans so close to my face I wonder if she’s going to kiss me. I can’t decide if I want her to or not. “Come on,” she says, pulling me up from the sand. “I need to change out of this dress and figure out what to pack for tomorrow. It should prove to be an interesting day.”

  “Does that mean you’re finally excited about camping?”

  “No, it means I’m going to try to make the best of it.”

  DAY FOUR

  Camille

  My alarm goes off way too early. I want to chuck it across the room, but I don’t. I need to get ready. I lay out my new, light blue field pants and hiking boots, wondering what I can do to make them look cuter. I dig through my suitcase and pull out a vintage band tee then focus on my makeup. I do it subtle, making my skin look like it has a natural glow, then braid my hair in pigtails. I survey the room to make sure I have everything and put what I need for tonight into a backpack as Diego suggested—my pink pajamas, a pair of jean shorts, a cute top, and my patterned Keds. I add in makeup, deodorant, toothbrush, makeup remover, and my contact case. I decide to add in a pair of leggings and throw bug spray and sunscreen on the top. It’s nearly 6:30 when I’m done, so I hurry out of my room and head to breakfast.

  The smell of baked dough hits me before I even enter the dining hall. “What is that wonderful aroma?” I ask the woman who is cooking.

  “We have homemade donuts for you this morning,” she says, handing me a plate with three warm donuts along with a bowl of fresh pineapple.

  “Yum. Thank you so much,” I say, grinning at her. I place my food onto a table that looks out over the water then get some juice. I’m really going to miss their juice. It is probably the best I’ve ever had in my life.

  I take a big gulp and I’m in heaven. I realize that I’m actually going to miss this place. Even though I wasn’t sure about our accommodations when we arrived, I got used to my bottom bunk and the feel of the breeze on my face every morning. I also learned I love sleeping with the windows open. I’m lost in thought when Adam sits down across from me with a plate full of donuts. He looks cute this morning—olive-colored field pants that fit nicely and a white long-sleeved shirt that contrasts with his brilliant blue eyes.

  “Hey! How did you get so many?” I ask.

  “What can I say? Ronda likes to take care of me,” he says with a grin. “She says I’m a growing boy and need my sustenance.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “How old are you anyway?”

  “I’m twenty. You’re eighteen, right?”

  “Yeah, for another month.” I take a bite of donut. “Oh my goodness, these are delicious,” I say with my mouth full. These don’t taste like normal donuts, they are thicker and not quite as sweet as the ones I’ve had at home.

  “Mmm, they are,” Adam says, his mouth full, as well.

  “How did you sleep? I was so tired, I passed out. I guess modeling wears you out.”

  “I wasn’t too tired, but it felt good to get in bed. So how are you feeling about today?”

  “I decided to embrace the challenge. I always feel like you can make the best out of any situation, so that is my goal today.”

  Adam gives me a grin. His hair is a tousled mess, and stubble is growing in on his tanned face.

  I stand, going to grab my bags and head up to the lobby when I see Adam snickering.

  “What are you laughing at?” I ask him pointedly.

  “Your pants.”

  “What do you mean? I’m wearing field pants and hiking shoes. Just like you.” My reply probably sounds defensive, but what is his problem this morning?

  “I know, but yours are light blue. Where on earth did you find a pair that color?” He gives me a sideways grin. “Field pants are the most boring pants. I’ve only ever seen them in neutrals.”

  “Thanks,” I say smiling at what I assume is a compliment. “It was tough. I looked online forever to find a pair that weren’t so boring. Once I found these, I was in love.”

  He shakes his head at me, laughing as we each go to our rooms to grab our bags.

  We meet Diego in the main lobby.

  “Morning, you two,” he says. Diego is always in a chipper mood. I like that about him. “Are you ready to hit the road?”

  “Yeah,” I reply cheerfully. Diego and Adam load our bags, then Richo comes over and says, “I hope you enjoyed your stay here with us. It sounds like the rest of your trip is going to be pretty wild. You kids have a blast!”

  “Thank you. We did. The view here is gorgeous, and the food was delicious. Thank you for having us,” I say politely.

  Once we are all in the bus, I roll down the window and give a little wave to Richo, who is standing in front of the building. This was such a beautiful place. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did it felt so welcoming. The food, the view, the ocean—it was all so perfect.

  After an hour on the road, we enter into Panama, stopping briefly to show our passports and vehicle registration. As we make our way into the country, I notice that the area is still tropical but there is even more greenery. “Wow,” I say at the sight.

  Adam looks out the window and nods in agreement. “I can’t wait to see all the foliage from the river.”

  “I think you will enjoy the view,” Diego says, glancing at us in the rearview mirror. “Do you want me to tell you a bit about the manatees and wetlands before we get to the watch station?”

  “Yes, definitely,” I reply, quickly grabbing my notebook to jot down a few details. Plus, I know Adam is really interested in this part of our trip.

  “Awesome,” Diego says. “So, the San San-Pond Sak Wetlands are located in the province of Bocas del Toro. They are composed of a combination of lakes, swamps, streams, and beaches. It is home to both sea turtles and manatees and has the densest population of West Indian manatees in Panama. There are also numerous water birds, monkeys, sloths, and iguanas. People in this area make a living selling fruit, agriculture, and fish, but before the area became protected, many people would collect turtle eggs. Job opportunities are low in the area, causing locals to hunt and collect on the protected land. Things are changing, though, and more opportunities are being provided to the people so they can make money, but not at the expense of the environment.”

  “That’s really sad,” I say. “I feel bad for both the people needing money and for the turtles.”

  “It is a bit of a quandary,” Diego says, “but the good news is that after the land became protected, it started becoming a site for tourists.”

  “I’m surprised that’s considered a good thing. Wouldn’t you want to leave the place you’re trying to protect alone?” I question.

  “Yes and no. Tourism is great for the local economy because it provides jobs. You get people doing things like leading tours and becoming park rangers. Restaurants do well and small hotels flourish. You also have the chance to sell small crafts and trinkets as keepsakes which provides extra income. But the downside is
that you have an increased amount of people coming through the area, which is why it’s important to remain respectful of the landscape.”

  I absorb everything Diego has said. “I didn’t realize there were so many pros and cons to tourism, and that it has such an impact on the local communities. So our trip here kind of helps?”

  “That’s correct,” Diego says. “Want me to tell about the manatees?”

  “Yes,” Adam replies. “All I really know is they are dark in color and look like big cows.” His description makes me giggle.

  “They do. Their nickname is the sea or marine cow,” Diego says. “Manatees are unique in that they can live in both fresh and salt water, but they prefer shallow, warm water. As you mentioned, they are grey in color. They have both lungs and nostrils, so they surface. They take short naps throughout the day, and even when they are asleep they will rise to the surface for air. Manatees are herbivores who do not have front teeth. They actually use their molars to chew on plants, which works great for them since their diet consists of sea grass, sea lettuce, and a wide range of algae and plants. They also like some fruits. Much of their time, between six to eight hours a day, they graze, which is actually how they got their nickname.”

  I listen intently and scramble to write all of the information down.

  “I really hope we get to see manatees today,” I say, getting excited.

  Diego points to our right. “We’re here. I’ll tell you more once we get settled in the observation area.”

  As we pull into the drive, the first thing I observe is a building raised up from the low grass on wooden stilts. The stilts are painted in different pastel colors, reminding me of our beach cabanas. I love how colorful everything is here. You certainly don’t see many pink, yellow, or turquoise homes in New York City.

  We get out of the bus and look around while Diego gets a stalk of bananas out of the passenger’s seat.

  I follow Adam to the side of the building where I see a little walkway connecting the main building to a little hut, its four poster legs going down into the water. It has a tin roof that matches the main building, but is open on all sides, sort of like a gazebo. We make our way to the building, which is all one big room. There’s a wooden bench and a few manatee posters. Other than that, it is pretty sparse. The back wall opens up so you can see over a ledge and out into the water, like a little hidden treasure.

 

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