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There’s no title for this kind of day. It started out perfectly – stayed in last night, up at 7, in to town for errands, stopped at the gym for bis, tri and abs before yoga with Nicole. Met Nicole at 9, recapped the last couple of days events and decided it was best to hit La Feria to load up on fruits and veggies then get ourselves a brunch of gallo pinto. First we stopped at Western Union to pick up some money that her Dad sent, in my name, that she needed to replace her stolen passport. Hence, with no passport, it was sent in my name. We did our business and strolled through the market before settling down for grub. We ordered, her coffer came and we were finally in the shade. Nice. Then, enter weird old man fiddling at the bottom of my chair. I bent down to help him pick up the paper “he lost”, as Nicole, another concerned citizen leaned in…POOF…gone was her bag! The other suspect came and went so fast we didn’t see him, no one in the soda did.

This was no ordinary beach bag this day. Coming from work she had her iPOD in there, phone (seems like an easy thing to replace, not here), her expired passport that she was trying to replace because her other one was stolen a few months ago, two weeks worth of hard earned pay and the big chunk of money that her Dad had just wired in order to get the new passport. I won’t even mention her favorite bathing suit that cost a pretty penny. Ok, I mentioned it.

Yes, all things replaceable, but in this world here, life is different. Getting a root canal might be less painful than replacing a passport or getting a new phone. Knowing that all the money you just worked your tail off for so that you could pay rent and eat is now paying for the crack heads behind the church to feed there noses is like getting punched in the gut.

I sat, and sat, not having even one word to make her feel better. It wasn’t even my bag and I felt violated, not to mention that both of us agreed that it is likely that we had been followed. The timing was all too suspicious. That’s a not so easy feeling. So, because I eat under any and all circumstances I wolfed my breakfast down trying to think of something consoling to say while she tuffed it out. Today I witnessed a true act of grace. I am impressed and hopeful that I too can act so cool when things go so bad.

Her eyes welled up. She was more than entitled to that be it anger, sadness or fear. But, I swear the tears never even fell. You could argue that its from years of yoga practice, but she just sat upright like a lady, processed for a moment and didn’t get annoyed that I still needed to eat and hydrate after a long morning of sweating around town. We got the check, hers was on the house, they really had no choice since they knew she now had nothing. Nothing, probably one of the morals of this story. We all live here out of a bag, maybe two, one of hers was gone.

We headed for the beach in search of a pink bag ditched in the gutter. We stopped the police and they brought us to the O I Jota (not really sure if that’s spelled right or what it means, but it’s supposedly the sheriff’s office). Even if the bag never turns up it was nice to feel like at least someone wanted to help us. This is where I was even more impressed. Under pressure and feeling poopy Nicole was able to conduct the entire conversation in Spanish. That’s something to be proud of. Even I had to fill out a report and pulled out a few sentences en espanol.

We scored a free ride home, I made a few jokes, we split the goods we had bought together at the market, things are better when shared - moral number two for the day. I couldn’t get her bag back and I could make her feel better, but I was there, hoping to shoulder some of the yuckiness for her. What was nice is that she’s good enough people to recognize that. She thanked me and I thanked her for I know if the situation was reversed she’d be sitting there and helping to carry my bags too. Sort of like the day she arrived on my doorstep with tea for my cold.

She rallied and ate her breakfast from the takeout container with her a slice of avocado as a spoon since we had no utensils and we made our way to the beach. Throughout the day we contemplated life a little and even had a few laughs (like when I asked her if she had any change). Duh, no she doesn’t have any change, she doesn’t have anything. Not even the keys to her house to change of out sweatiness or brings her groceries home. But, she laughed with me. Moral number three…laughing does help.

Finally the was closing and she offered to cover a yoga class on her day off. A girl who’s broke has to make ends meet. I know her heart was not ready to go and try to heal others, to help them sort through their stress, but she did it anyway. On the way, after some silence, she said “this is how we come to know if we are ok with who we are, when all the stuff is stripped away”. Moral number four…be content and confident with who you are without all the extras. Earlier in the day she repeated a metaphor a surfer friend had shared with her once. It was something like this “let the wave hit you. Don’t tense up, roll up and try to fight it. Relax, let it take you and son it will wash over you.”

I left her on the bus with a “may the force be with you my friend”. She smiled and we agreed to meet for drinks later. Moral number five…beers with friends, a really nice thing to have in this world.