Encounters with Death

Numero 1: The day after Christmas, I went to the beach with a couple friends to Playa Tulate. While my home state of CT was cold, cold, cold at the beginning of its winter season, I was sipping tequila and pineapple soda in the sand. Aside from the perverted, ice cream attendant that was taking cell phone photos of the gringas in their bathing suits, I was quiet content laying in the sun, listening to the ocean waves. Lunch was a plate of fresh grilled fish seasoned with garlic and salt accompanied with a side of French fries. After lunch, I decided to go for a quick dip before laying out in the sun. I was alone in the water about waist deep, day dreaming about ordering another grilled fish, but this time maybe I would try the tilapia. Without knowing how, the water was up to my neck and the shore seemed really far away. I started to swim back, but realized I wasn’t making progress, in fact I was moving further away from shore. The waves got stronger and stronger, pulling me back so I tryed different swimming strokes to beat the current. I was getting tired and I didn’t think anyone noticed me. The waves kept coming and coming, and I kept struggling and struggling. I tried to do the international symbol for “help, I’m drowning out here.” But I don’t know if anyone saw me. After a couple minutes I thought to myself “I’m going to die.” I was getting tired, I was running out of breath, I didn’t think I could hold on much longer. Out of nowhere, like a knight in shining armor, appeared 45 year old Guatemalan life guard in a little, red Speedo. I lived to see another day.
Numero 2: A few days after the destructive earthquake in Haiti, Guatemala got shaken by a strong earthquake as well. Around 10am, I was in the office standing over my desk looking at some papers. I thought I lost my balance because I fell into the desk but in reality the entire school building wobbled back and forth and I could feel the ground beneath me move. Will everything collapse? I thought to myself “Today is a nice day to die, but I’m still not ready yet.” There was little to no damage in the country and I lived to see another day.
Numero 3: Monday night seemed like any old night Monday. After dinner and a shower, I got into bed with a book. I was looking forward to a good night sleep because I had to get up early the next morning for work. My roommate hopped in the bathroom after me to shower as well. Within a few minutes, I heard this crackling, hissing sound. The lazy part of me tried to ignore it but my instinct told me I better get up and see where the sound was coming from. I followed the sound to outside the bathroom door where the gas tank was located. Our shower water is heated by gas. One must turn on the gas, light the pilot, and the furnace turns on. I looked closely under the furnace just in time to see one of the pipes smoking and melting. “Shut the water off” I yelled and quickly looked down to turn off the gas. As I switched the gas off, something burst and exploded in my face. I don’t know where it came from nor did I look because my first reaction was to back away and run. There was a loud hissing noise and it sounded like some type of air was spraying all over the place. I thought to myself “Oh shit, The pilot light is still on, that is gas and the house is gonna explode.” “Get out of the shower!” I yelled again, this time with urgency and worry. The air blowing thru the second floor like a rocket ship lifting off to outer space got louder and louder. A burning, rubber smell filled the air. “Get out of the house!” For whatever reason my roommate thought it was best to take his chances inside that bathroom. Just as I was exiting the house, the noise and air stopped. I wasn’t sure if it was safe to go back upstairs but I did. We were left with a broken pipe and a mini flood on the second floor. During the next few hours, my roommates and I soaked up the water on the second floor with towels and buckets. Where is a water vacuum when you really need one?