Sun, Water, Sun, Water, ...

by Sylvia Kaplan

Tomorrow our idyll on Aruba, this small paradise 35 miles from Venezuela will end. While only 21 x 8 1/2 miles, it is like two distinct islands. One boasts white sandy beaches where birds dive to catch silvery fish while we float and lull in the sun, gazing at the tranquil azure Caribbean on the leeward side, blowing breezes from the northeast cooling our browning bodies. The other, excitingly explored, is the windward side on the northeast coast, craggy with roughly weathered coral and igneous rock thrust up by moving plates and volcanic activity eons ago.

This island is usually desert like with only 10 inches of rain a year - much of that, our of the normal, having fallen these last two weeks. The plants, many succulents cling tenuously to the coral where wild goats and donkies graze on the thorn bushes. How they avoid bloody lips is beyond me.

After exploring the lighthouse perched on the northern tip of the island, Ken adeptly navigated over "off-roads" in our NON 4 wheel drive, finally arriving at the famous "Natural NOT Bridge." The main bridge collapsed in 2005 after eroding from the natural crashing waves that had undermined the supporting rocks. A smaller bridge now exists. Fortunately, the demise of the najor bridge occurred at 4 a.m., absent the hoards of tourists who are there during the day.

Yesterday, in a bouncy Land Rover, we trekked to Aruba's national park with our former park ranger turned guide, Eddie Croe, who is a product of the Aruban culture and its unique mixture of Dutch, African and indian (native tribes) peoples. His views on the government, daily life, social policy and nature were intriguing - made us wonder why there's been no uprising against those in power in this tourist (mostly American) driven country. One fascinating fact is that all the children are multilingual, speaking Papiamento (local language), Dutch, Spanish and English, and some Portugese and French as well. All students are able at age 17 to go to the Netherlands on scholarship to complete their college education and most, because of their many languages, do not return, being captured by international corporations which appreciate their unique linguistic advantage. In preparation for their departure, children are taught early to be independent, reponsible and contributing members of their families and communities. Boys and girls are considered equals we were told - play on the same soccer teams. Guess what happens to the girls as they get older.

There is actually a law on the books permitting sterilization of men who father but then shirk their responsibility for supporting and nurturing their offspring. Hmm - wonder how often that law is used. Laws also permit prostitution, that noble profession for which women are trained. Alas, no male prostitutes. Only female "social workers" as was explained a la Croe.

Because of the nature of the land, all fresh food and most else is imported at great cost. What is local is fresh fish, water and aloe. Ken figures the great cost is why mostly Americans can afford to come here. There are, however, a sizeable group of Venezualans who come to gamble at the many casinos we did not frequent.What is local and plentiful on this desert like island is water. Hah - you ask how? The desalinization plant, established with the help of Israeli technology and constantly staying state of the art, pumps water throughout the island in pipes that run above ground along the roads to holding tanks perched on hilltops that dot the island. It does taste good and makes me think that with water becoming more of an issue in places around the world, this technology can only increase in its use.

It has been delightful sharing this experience with our wonderful friend Carol. I think we all will treasure these days spent "noodling around" in paradise. Photos will come later as soon as we figure out how to do that without our computer. Next stop, St. Maarten and more fun with friends and our delicious family.