As a Tico documentary filmmaker, I gave a voice to the voiceless, but when I met my American Girlfriend Bonnie, I found my voice. We had crossed paths four years ago when I was interviewing orphans after another Nico and Tico dispute broke out in the Granada, Nicaragua, and her gringa accent was a song as she taught them English. I\u2019d like to say our story was simple. We settled in my hometown of San Jose, Costa Rica, where I worked for the news company, covering the various homicides and corruption while she taught ESL. That upon visa runs and eating Mexican tacos she announced her pregnancy, a kid for us and permanent residency for her. That I never desired another woman and was faithful, not just loyal. But all that\u2019s a lie.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m not an intentional liar, but I focused on the easier version to avoid the complications. Reduced it down, much like the stories I tell with my camera of the impoverished Carribean Ticos who couldn\u2019t work in San Jose, to the thieving Panamain pirates. I didn\u2019t realize how much I\u2019d hurt Bonnie until two weeks ago, when I woke up in an empty bed, her absence like a phantom limb. She called to apologize, said her father just died, and she booked the first flight to California for the funeral. The rain storm tapped a bossa nova ballad on my roof, my home empty. No arguments about sending her to Cuba for fertility testing, no mocking of our motto\u2013that we belonged with each other, but not too each other.<\/p>\n
After our shift, I spoke about it with my assistant Robert in a packed dive bar, covered in graffiti, electric blues and pinks, and young, long-hair college students.<\/p>\n
\u201cI miss her,\u201d I said. I sipped my gin and tonic.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re fucking stupid man,\u201d he laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re an asshole man,\u201d I replied. \u201cDon\u2019t you miss your old girlfriends?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly when the maid\u2019s on vacation,\u201d Robert said. He was a pot-bellied Panamanian with square glasses and a side part in his thick dark hair, who wore flamboyant too-tight shirts, copying the Tico playboys. He impressed girls with his fancy job, pirate tales and pictures of his private Bocas del Toro bungalow, which he promised to take them to, but never would. \u201cAllen, you\u2019re only 32. Work should be your wife. Speaking of work, Nicos have invaded Guanacaste again. The American Navy is coming. There\u2019ll be lots of good-looking girls. Exotic working girls.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have working girls here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTons of Germans, Austrians.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll call Bonnie tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t get why you\u2019d get one of those snobby gringas, think they\u2019re the only Americans. You should\u2019ve gotten a Tica. They understand us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head. \u201cWe were a partnership.\u201d<\/p>\n
Robert motioned the bartender to send two drinks to the tables behind me. \u201cYou changing who you are?\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned to wave at a pair of girls he\u2019d likely seen when we arrived earlier. Two pretty blonds waved at us.<\/p>\n
This part was easy. Taking women to bed was a dance I memorized. Robert and me strolled to their tables and introduced ourselves. Amidst that smoke-filled bar and the American hip hop music, we danced as a precursor to the nightcap. I tucked my blond\u2019s long hair behind her ear and kissed her neck. Pretended to know her soul when I\u2019d forgotten her name, and invited her back to my house for vinyls, chocolate, and wine. I took home every woman I could, but I pined for petite brunettes with short hair, Bonnie\u2019s doppelganger. I fell asleep with women in my arms, surrogates for what I\u2019d lost. But in the sunlight, over and awkward breakfast of true Tico coffee, pico de gallo and eggs, they all looked like themselves.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I lied to my blond and dropped her off early. The rainy seasons showered San Partido as I dialed Bonnie\u2019s number.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow are you? Where are you?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m as well as I can be,\u201d she replied. \u201cI\u2019m home. It\u2019s hot and I\u2019m bored. You?\u201d
\n\u201cHow was the funeral?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDepressing, but peaceful. At the wake mom told me about their marriage. They had the American Dream\u2013love till death, but she gave up her life for him. She\u2019s too young to wait for death, too old to start over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat could be us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d have to give up my country.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe belong with each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust not to each other,\u201d she hiccuped. She sobbed a little, expected. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, I\u2019m already drunk. Tell me something you haven\u2019t before.\u201d<\/p>\n
I fidgeted and thought for a bit. \u201cYou gave me purpose.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy parents hated that went into journalism, because they worked so hard so I could avoid a job like that. You validated my need to do good. Your turn.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI almost considered sleeping with your neighbor to see if I could get pregnant with him.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed nervously to hide my jealousy. My neighbor was a successful Black Gringo who owned an architecture firm. \u201cIt would be obvious the kid wasn\u2019t mine. Did you sleep with him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou couldn\u2019t judge me if I did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike when you pissed on me.\u201d Thankfully we both laughed. \u201cOn that visa run to Panama at that resort with free alcohol.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat happy hour rule that if someone used the bathroom, everyone had to pay for their drinks. You got a beer for that Colombian girl.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou walked behind me and pissed on my leg. Territorial.\u201d<\/p>\n
She let out a deep breath. \u201cI had to. Like that time I came home early from work, and I saw those tulips on the table. I went to the bedroom and asked you to lie to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I knocked on the door and that Chinese Tica walked out without a word, and took the flowers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey were hers anyway.\u201d Bonnie got weepy. \u201cWhy are you like this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause we belonged with each other, not to each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
I listened to Bonnie\u2019s sobs. Her childish cry, a sonnet of snot and sniffles, I was embarrassed at her raw grief, not sure if it was from her father\u2019s death or me. I wished she was here, so she could throw a cup at me, call me selfish, and then I\u2019d kiss her tears away, carry her upstairs for several rounds of makeup sex.<\/p>\n
But I couldn\u2019t relieve the tension like this.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarry me,\u201d I said. \u201cIsn\u2019t loyalty enough?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs fidelity too much?\u201d she asked and hung up.<\/p>\n
I stared at the phone and listened to the dead hiss of the receiver. Unfortunately I was sober. I called Robert. \u201cLet\u2019s go to Guanacaste.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Guanacaste is Costa Rica\u2019s Helen of Troy, irrevocably beautiful with its white sand beaches, clear turquoise water, and acres of palm trees. Ticos ride the bus and then boat to reach the secluded Northwestern province. Gringos who struggled with Spanish smiled with relief that the native Germans and Austrians speak English. Nicos have lost their lives every few years in an attempt to gain control. The Tico government had promised Nicaragua Guanacaste upon the tourist boom, then reneged. Since Costa Rica doesn\u2019t have a military, the U.S. sends the Navy to push Nicos back onto their land.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a big party. Fresh-faced gringos, some military and others tourists, Austrians, Germans, prowled the small blue-skied province for a life in a dance, weed, liquor, cocaine, and hookups, or just to listen to the waves crash, or swim, likely praying to avoid sharks or jellyfish. Working girls from all over the world traveled to Guanacaste to service the Navy, not just for money but the rare chance to bed a young and handsome client.<\/p>\n
Upon arrival, Robert and me rolled up our pants and walked barefoot along the shores with our camera to interview the Ticos who complained about the dirty Nicos on their soil, the apolitical Germans thankful for the province\u2019s beauty, and the Nicos with their solemn expressions in their uniforms who spoke of frustration after I revealed that I was a sympathizer and they were safe.<\/p>\n
After our interviews, we celebrated with a nightcap at a small, nearly empty bar. Robert sent a drink to a petite redhead.<\/p>\n
\u201cAustrians are so lovely,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m getting Bonnie back,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDios mio!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe needs fidelity. I should start here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAllen, mijo, we don\u2019t want much. Money, food, shelter, caceite, beautiful women for erotic friendships. What about her?\u201d he pointed at a curvy girl with long, wavy hair.<\/p>\n
With that, he strolled to the redhead\u2019s table and sent two drinks to my table before whispering in the curvy girl\u2019s ear. She walked toward me, her tank top revealing bountiful breasts, and her shorts, a round, generous bottom. She was statuesque. Rubenesque in her beauty.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat guy bought this drink but I had to drink it with you,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Allen,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d she replied. Her Midwestern accent reminded me of Bonnie\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it matter? It\u2019s not my essence. Why exchange perfunctory details that won\u2019t matter in a few weeks? This could be the perfect overnight relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n
While she sipped her drink, I tucked her long, raven hair behind her ear. Under the bar\u2019s pathetic strobe lights, amongst an island where everyone search for the meaning of life in conveniency, I\u2019d already found it. We danced on that empty dance floor, and she grinded her luscious hips onto mine and I fell in love\u2013not the cheap tawdry version but the pinnacle of idealization. I\u2019d never even loved Bonnie that way. Love, after all, involved misunderstandings and messy endings, and now, I loved this woman how I wanted to love all women! We partied ironically in the bar until we walked on the beach.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re perfect,\u201d I told her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never thought I\u2019d meet someone like you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not like other girls in Fort Wayne.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA perfunctory detail?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCertainly not, because I\u2019m about to tell you my essence. I got with my ex because we were both studying engineering, rent was cheaper split, but I want to paint on the beach. To study nature\u2019s architecture. What human could create all of this,\u201d she asked, raising her arms to the stars.<\/p>\n
She skipped ahead of me, a gentle breeze swept her hair across her lovely freckled face, the most alive thing I\u2019d ever seen.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your essence, Allen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo do good and be good. It\u2019s why I\u2019m a journalist.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou do good, but are you good?\u201d<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath. Normally I wouldn\u2019t share this, but she was safe. \u201cI had an American girlfriend named Bonnie. I wanted to keep her and my freedom.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded. \u201cYou cheated.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTicos don\u2019t hide that from their women. I\u2019ll get her back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you here with me?\u201d She raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou accept me as I am.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s all we want. Last month, when I was in Bocas del Toro, my boyfriend dumped me, and I was on the beach drunk and alone. Then I thought of where I\u2019d be a decade from now. Likely married, working, picking up after my husband on a Friday night, and filled with nostalgia for that time when I sipped drinks on the beach.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you a good person?\u201d<\/p>\n
She stepped closer. \u201cI\u2019m an authentic person. We love each other. Let\u2019s make the evening perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled her close and dropped my hand to her waist. I saved her lemon-scented hair and soft lips. With the stars underneath us, the waves crashing, I liked\u2013no\u2013 loved this unnamed woman. Not just the fullness of her figure and her long hair, but her generosity of spirit. When I kissed her, we built future memories, silence. Our bodies fulfilled the promise of the night as we returned to my room and undressed. She kissed my forehead. I buried my face in her ample breasts. We consented from our hearts as she wrapped her thick legs across my back, her hips danced a sensual ballad. Her soft and magnificent body, with her long dark hair grazing her breasts felt dreamlike. Complete.<\/p>\n
Afterwards, she laid her head on my chest and we split a joint. I wished she was Bonnie yet dreaded the night ending.<\/p>\n
\u201cDeep in thought?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought being single would make me happy, but I need her back,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought love would make me happy, but I was miserable. My ex was like you. Claimed to love me, but he kept cheating with skinny girls. His fantasies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did you feel about it?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shifted, wiped her face with her free hand. \u201cLike I was nothing. Destroyed. How did you feel when you cheated?\u201d<\/p>\n
I shifted at the word. \u201cNothing. Didn\u2019t feel like I\u2019d be a man without it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re selfish, Allen. You\u2019ve hurt her more than she could ever tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you tell your ex?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe left before I could. What we have tonight will never be tainted.\u201d She climbed on top of me, stroked me again and sucked on my nipples. \u201cYou\u2019re free with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was right. I grabbed a handful of her hair and kissed her hard. In that dank, mosquito-filled room, I felt accepted and loved in its purest form. I wanted this love to last, and remembered when I had first met Bonnie, I believed it would. I turned onto her back, raised her legs over her shoulder and whispered, \u201cI love you more than anything right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wished the night would never end. She fell asleep in my arms but I woke up alone. Loneliness enveloped me, and I wanted more of her. I thought I\u2019d convince her to stay with a cup of coffee and a trip to Santa Maria, the neighboring beach. I found her at a cafe reading a book, wearing a pink floral dress.<\/p>\n
\u201cBuenos mananas, guapas,” I said.<\/p>\n
I kissed her on the cheek but she flinched. A goofy-looking blond man sat next to her. She smiled for him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Matt,\u201d he said, stretching his arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, what\u2019s your name again?\u201d she said to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAllen.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded. \u201cHe interviewed me for this documentary on Guanacaste.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPura Vida,\u201d Matt said, waving his hands like a stupid surfer. \u201cI love Costa Rica. We\u2019re going to see the sloths in Puntarenas.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould love to chat, but we\u2019re off to Santa Maria. Good luck with your documentary,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Idiot Matt walked away. I set the coffee next to her as an offering. My eyes challenged hers with questions. Was Matt the supposed ex-boyfriend who cheated? Was she playing a game? Was she sincere in anything she said at all? But she was silence. She frowned and returned to her book. When the bus for Santa Maria was ready to board, she ran back to Idiot Matt and left my coffee on the table.<\/p>\n
While I waited for Robert to return to San Jose, I walked along the beach and already heard his teasing: I had no cajones; perhaps she lied. Perhaps she too, needed a fantasy, a break from her life. I stared out at the sky; the endless clear blue sky, the same sky that Bonnie was under. My American Girlfriend, who I loved but an alternate, imperfect love; not the love she deserved or the love I earned. A love no longer mine.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We danced on that empty dance floor, and she grinded her luscious hips onto mine and I fell in love\u2013not the cheap tawdry version but the pinnacle of idealization. Love, after all, involved misunderstandings and messy endings, and now, I loved this woman how I wanted to love all women!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":18964,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18198","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-christina-marable"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18198"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18965,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198\/revisions\/18965"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/18964"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18198"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18198"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18198"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}