I am welcomed to Bahia Principe-landia - my psedio-cruiseship world, where everything is included by the magical, annoying braclet my wrist. The mediocre food my guide book warned me about. The cheap Mamajuana (rum drink of choice) that tastes like rubbing alcohol by the pool. It's a world like communist theory, but with Pedro's director-status, we are a step above, which actually makes the resort more like actual communism. Or how I imagine communism to be.
But the resort culture is very isolated. Which makes me feel like I am Havana Nights. But instead of finding my Intellect-Working-as-Cabana-Boy Diego Luna, I realize I am already dating Johnny (aka Pedro Jose), the one with loads of promise who the girl's parents like. I can't shake the desire to go to La Rosa Negra (the dance club which was locals-only) and bust out of the resort life.
I'm basically stuck on the resort, with three pools, and lovely beach full of families and groups of older Spaniards, and quite a few restaurants, so life is very easy, though not too interesting. I'm beginning to call it The Compound.
About every three hours I occiolate between loving the adventure and excitment of a new place to complete apathy of a country full of corruption and chaos.
