Month: August 2018

Alone in the Temple

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I leave the twins to enjoy the Selvadoradan culture… from afar. When I hug them bye, Cléo is trying to teach Cyril to move his hips to latin music. It was heartbreaking to walk away from how cute that was, but I’m sure Sara will take a video.

So it’s on my own that I go back to the temple. It’s easy when it’s just me, and fast. I practically know the way by heart, now.

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And the dangers of the temple don’t scare me anymore.

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I approach the mysteries and puzzles with confidence…

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Even if I still get it wrong sometimes.

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Thankfully, no curse this time. Just a cloud of bone dust blown over my face. It’s sort of yucky, but at least it’s not poison.

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I really should remember to pack more interesting meals one of these days.

Belomisian Morning

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Cyril’s in a better mood today — even though he realized he didn’t pack enough clothes for the whole trip. I suspect he’s excited about International New Skill Day. Cyril likes learning new things, and I suspect he also thinks of the holiday as a challenge. Against everybody else.

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Cléo’s in a good mood too, until someone decides that the skill they want to improve today is apparently mischief — he tries to throw a cold drink in her face.

Thankfully for her white jeans, he fails.

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“Don’t mind him,” the inn owner tells her. “He’s even stupider than he’s mean, we all just sort of ignore him.”

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I’m heading straight to the chess board again today, but Cyril butts in. Apparently, this is the skill he wants to learn. I’m not about to complain, I like spending time with my little bro.

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Also, he’s mistaken if he thinks I’m gonna be any easier on him because he’s a beginner. He gets crushed.

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Cléo doesn’t give that many cares about the whole new skill business, and she prefers to watch the clouds under the shadow of a palm tree.

One more proof that being twins doesn’t mean you’re the same.

Belomisian Nights

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The twins have gone back to the bungalow to rest — but I’m not missing out on the marketplace by night. I’ve seen the jungle from above the canopy, I’ve seen the waterfalls from the hanging bridge and the hidden royal baths; but I still think that this, this dimly-lit, whimsical marketplace, is my favorite spot in all of Selvadorada.

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I wish a capture could capture the beauty and atmosphere of the place, because I would cover my walls in life-sized prints. But nothing will ever be true to this, so I make the most of it now.

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Waiting for the vendor who tends the stall at night to arrive. I’m in the mood for arepas.

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They’re the best arepas I’ve ever tasted. More importantly, they’re ten times better than any I ever managed to cook myself. I hope I’ll get there one day!

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Before I head back to the bungalow, I do a détour to pay my respects to Madre Cosecha. You can’t go to Selvadorada and skip that step, not when you care as much about the place as I do.

Sara and the Stars

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Sara is done working for the day, and the twins are still busy. It’s time for us to catch up. We only see each other once every few months, but she’s still my dearest friend.

A voice from the back of my mind whispers “your only friend, Hannah,” and the voice is not wrong.

What the voice doesn’t know, though, is that I don’t mind. I don’t need a gang of friends to spend my time on. This friendship with Sara might be puzzling to the outsider, but it’s perfect for me.

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“So that’s what the omiscans called the constellation of the jaguar, right?”

“You keep getting them confused, Hannah,” she laughs. “That’s the iguana. The jaguar is over there.”

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“Alright, my back hurts. Ready to go dancing?”

We’re always ready to go dancing.