Uneasy ease...

Freckles are starting to emerge out of nowhere, and the sun kissed sensation prickles with delight from the whitest of our winter skins. Brine and sun lotion are with us as an ever present confirmation of this glorious place. The tang of fresh picked pineapple and the sound of laughter and splashing bleeding into each other are sensations that will shape our memories.
But we have also observed that not all is paradise in paradise. A couple of days ago we went to the resort's 'private beach'... we should have seen it coming. We drove up and hopped out into the baby-bottom soft sand, into a tourists 'bliss', or not so much.
We first came across large men sprawled out on beds with young women massaging their every need... and for only 600 shillings. Heading down to have to kids dip their innocent feet into the vast warmth of the Indian ocean, we passed women literally sun baked beyond recognition, waiting for young local men to ferry cold drinks to soothe their scorched skin... drinks that cost more then they will earn in a day. There to, were the 'beach boys', local entrepreneurs, ready to sell you whatever your wealth can buy...
At the sea's liquid edge we marvelled with our children at it's bath like warmth while also needing to provide some explanation for the local women plying their beauty and youth, that seemed deeply juxtaposed to the burnt-out red, tired bodies of the men they clung to.
So while we walked down to the corridor of white sand and floated on our backs with seaweed tickling our feet I had to wrestle with my role in this teetering, unbalanced economy, where we come and take what we can afford while those that call this home might be giving more then they should have to afford. We will hold this uneasy tension and also take it as a memory that tells a more complete story.