I have been waiting, patiently each morning for my foot to "heal." As if I'll wake one morning and it will be in working order. I hopefully put my weight on it to immediately discover that no, its just as messed up as it was yesterday. That doctor in Manila was such a joke. "These are great pills, European, better than Celeberex! You might feel better after just one!" Every other Western doctor I spoke to since said that it could take a few months to heal, maybe longer. And that was if I stayed off it. I do my stretches and exercises that my old physio in LA told me on the phone, even though it hurts.
Each day is Groundhog Day. Breakfast of sliced mango, toast and powdered coffee, read, fish for lunch, blog, swim, drift over to the floating bar, dinner, sunset. The view is always beautiful. The Filipina staff at the hotel, restaurants, and bars are always friendly. The books are interesting, the blogging is enjoyable even though I know not many people read it. (Somehow I have 1500 page views, but then I picture Mom refreshing the blog 20 times a day and the ego deflates.) Its more for myself, to capture my trip and record my memories in case a miracle happens and I actually do decide to write that travel book someday.
I am trapped here, and have no idea for how long. Nepal, the most anticipated part of my entire year away, has vanished. Everything else is a question mark. The sunset is coming soon, and it will be spectacular again. In a minute I will swim to the floating bar and the staff will say "Hello Nemo Fish! You want same?" In this watery bubble, time has stopped. Perhaps I will plant my toes in the sand, roots will spring forth, and my body will grow into a palm tree--another permanent resident.