Jungle Fever

It was the hottest day of the year, but her body froze as she replayed the scene from last night. Harsh words thrown like knives, tempers hotter than the air - yet her blood felt as if it stopped flowing.

By the time Alana had woken up, he was already gone. She lay on top of the thin duvet alone, her pajamas ripped off in the middle of the night during a bout of heatstroke. The holey, pilly sheet was already too much against her skin, glued to her back as she tried to stand up.

Sigh. She had hoped to wake up with a fresh mind, but she already felt a heaviness in her heart weighing on her. She avoided going into the kitchen, but with each passing minute, her thirst for water pushed her out - survival trumped any lingering anger for the time being.

“Hey, good morning,” she said softly as she reached for a glass of water.

She could feel her blood pulsing, whispering a quiet prayer that the ice would calm her down. Clink, clink. It only added to the heavy air hanging inside. But maybe that was all that was going on between them - just the unbearable, humid weather, contributing to their inability to have a normal conversation these days.

He looked at her with tired eyes and the expressionless face she still couldn’t read. Walking on eggshells was the last thing she imagined she’d be doing when she upended her life in NorCal to move to the jungles of Nicaragua for Rodrigo, her dream man.

Fast forward two years, and she had traded her life of creature comforts, frequenting farmers markets and hikes, for what felt like a romance novel: surf adventures, cracking coconuts on the beach, and foreign friends. The dream.

Not only that, but she swapped four seasons for two: rainy and dry - and it was always, always hot. Luckily, she no longer had to wrestle into a wetsuit to surf. Now she paddled out in a bikini, her skin perpetually glowing and tanned. Occasionally sunburnt, but mostly tan. That was the ultimate prize for enduring the heat, but on a day like today, she wasn’t sure if it was worth it.

“Buenas dias,” rolled off his lips in that effortlessly seductive way, as he swirled his coffee mug. He didn’t even have to try to hurt her, his mere existence was enough.

“So...are we going to hug or not?” he cooed as pulled his sweaty body towards hers.

This was their unspoken promise, to alleviate their problems with connection and a night of sleep. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that none of it - not even this - could fix the culture clash, the bleak living conditions, the resentment that lingered like a stray cat. Except for one thing.

“I just want you to know that you really hurt me yesterday,” Alana started, wanting to tell him the truth but veering in another direction instead.

Then she immediately regretted it, wishing that she could have stayed quiet and let him hug her until their next blowout. His heartbeat pressed harder against hers, and she could almost see the steam come out of his ears as an avalanche of words spilled from her mouth before she could stop herself.

The nervous talking, it always got her in trouble. But she couldn’t help it.

The rising sun elevated along with his temper, both of them beating on the house and her heart.

“It’s not my fault the power went out!” he retaliated, untangling their bodies.

Yesterday, at the peak of her workday and during an important Zoom meeting, the power blew yet again. The unreliability of the Internet in such a remote place jeopardized the cushy online job that let her live down here full time, the one she begged her boss to let her keep. In the rainy season the bamboo fell on the wires; in the dry season, the critters gnawed through them. It felt like a personal attack by the jungle - the animals were clearly trying to sabotage her job and relationship.

“If you want Starlink then you set it up and you pay for it! Ah madre mia!” he shouted, slamming his mug down. She knew he didn’t want to have this conversation again.

As a local, Rodrigo had been hesitant to conform to the rapid development creeping into his hometown. He’d made his stance clear - no Starlink, no changes. As a surf instructor, he didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, how necessary it was. But she knew: if she wanted it badly enough, she could make it happen herself.

One foot in the real world, one foot out. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep trying to live in two parallel universes - where the struggles of each always collided. She thought she could live a more primal existence, but her inbox was full of fake problems she had to resolve, and the stress of both lives bore down on her. She had made it known to Rodrigo that life wasn’t easy for her down here, and perhaps her passive aggressive comments didn’t help them sort it out calmly.

“Just remember, I didn’t force you to stay. No one is keeping you handcuffed here,” he said sternly.

There it was. The words that stung more than her sunburn, the constant reminder that she didn’t have to be there. The most handsome man in the world, giving her the okay to go.

But now, someone very small was keeping her handcuffed there - someone Rodrigo didn’t know about yet. The irritability, the frequent urination despite her dehydration, and a missing period led her to discover an irreversible truth the other week.

Her words, which could rush out so easily in the heat of an argument, escaped her when she wanted to share her joy most. Until now, there had always been an easy exit: a plane ride back to San Francisco, where she could file Rodrigo under a bittersweet chapter of her life. But not anymore. And she still hadn’t dared to tell him.

“So you’re really still telling me to leave?” Alana asked, tempering her tone.

“Well, if you’re not happy...” his voice lowered.

She knew he felt guilty for not giving her the life he had promised. Or maybe it was what he promised, and she had rewritten the promise differently in her mind. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for his world.

“I have to go,” she said, grabbing the keys and throwing on a bathing suit.

She didn’t even need fresh air, she needed to swim. She fantasized that the ocean would carry her out to sea, wash the pain away, and baptize her with a new life.

She gripped the wheel as hard as she could to keep her sweaty palms from slipping, while simultaneously wiping the dust from the road that blew into her eyes. Windows down wasn’t sexy here, it just meant that the AC was broken. Even though she wished she could speed away like they do in the movies, she could only bump along as the car lurched over potholes and exposed pipes.

Is this how I want to drive my kids around? Am I sheltering them or protecting them by staying here?

She couldn’t stop the thoughts from circulating in her mind as the drive got hotter and longer. It was no longer about what she wanted or could tolerate, but what was best for her now very real family.

But then she arrived at the muddy parking lot, filled with ATV’s and eager surfers. One of the first places Rodrigo had brought her, his home turf. Don Carlos, the parking attendant who accepted payment by cigarette or coconut, greeted her with a toothless grin. She faked a smile back and tried to act as normal as she could as she approached the beach path.

The sound of the waves grew louder and finally, there she was. Her bare feet molded into the sand and the breeze from the water tickled the back of her neck. Monkeys howled, the sun sparkled on the water, and her breathing evened out.

She looked around, taking it all in.

The dream was right there, it was undeniable. The water was as bright as blue gatorade, babies splashed in the shallows, dogs chased one another while their owners surfed, and girls posed for selfies with the palm trees like backdrops from a postcard.

It was everything she loved, everything she had once hoped her life to be. To escape the noise, the highways, the social demands.

The hottest, hardest, most beautiful corner of the planet.

To live near good waves meant accepting the flickering electricity, the broken-down vehicles, the bumpy roads. One also had to have a serious will to live - to survive. To meet yourself in the mirror of nature, where Google couldn’t solve your problem in an instant.

She knew this was the life she wanted. This is how she wanted to raise her family. With resilience, gratitude and perspective. And Rodrigo.

The heat really does make me crazy. Did I actually say those things to him just half an hour ago? Would I leave all of this - my community, my life - so I could have more AC and go thrifting again?

Her mind had already melted. The heat, the baby, the truth. She lingered in the tide pools, where time both expanded and stood still.

The flame inside her was tamed after a long soak - water beats fire, every time.

The unrelenting sun dried her skin in minutes, and a smile formed on her face as she drove back to the house, potholes and all.

She opened the door, interrupting the book he was reading. The power was out again, but it didn’t matter.

“Rodrigo,” she said gently, “I have something to tell you...”