A different view

A different view

When I crossed the reef again, the view was a very different one.

Upon arriving in Mahebourg and writing my blog, ‘The back-roll entry’, it ended with the following paragraph:

“I scrolled through some of my Butterfly Project Facebook collages today and found the one stating, ‘Relax, you can’t control every outcome. Trust the journey’. So here I am, preparing, trusting and breathing!” 

I experienced much and have postponed writing this blog as I have no idea how to start writing about the end of my adventure. I just realised now that I am at this exact point again, having to trust the journey and breathe very deeply and slowly. If you read ‘Diving Purple Cave’ you may be laughing now! It is true that we can’t control every outcome and although I changed my flight back home twice and had my visa extended, I had to leave my Lion Mountain at some stage. I had to step back into my reality and go home, to see what the actual outcome of the trip to Mahebourg would be. Life itself is a journey which continues and I have to trust the direction of my trip through life.

Remember how nervous I was about my back-roll entry into an unscheduled and blind two month stay in Mahebourg? I did not know what to expect at all, but I had a very strong conviction that I had to go and live in this very old fishing village in Mauritius, that there was something I needed to learn in my solo travel there.

I was thinking, if not saving the Coral Reef, that I initially dreamt of, then perhaps I would do more dives on my reef – Oh, and how I dived! I did eleven dives in almost as many weeks. I discovered a new dive centre and had to split my time between two. I did an Advanced Padi Scuba Course and took my diving to a completely different level. I am a diver now, in the full sense of the word!

I thought of the opportunity to improve my diminishing French and to learn more about life on the island as a local – And Oh, how did that surprise me? I was so relaxed that my mind was able to dig out long forgotten French words and phrases, enabling me to have conversations right from the start. During my whole stay, my French was a conversation starter as people were confused by it when they heard that I am from South-Africa.

I managed to walk more than I anticipated. There were routes that were level and my mobility and fitness level could cope and even improve with these walks. My walking stick was a conversation starter as well. I was sometimes stopped by people after the customary, “Bonjour, ça vas?” and asked what happened to my leg. There were many opportunities to share the miracle of the fact that I am alive, walking and even a scuba diver now. Yes, this body, despite my disabilities, is very happy at 30 meters under the sea!

On my walks, which did not change, I became a regular and very recognisable as there are not that many blonds walking with walking sticks in this area! People started greeting me and making small talk. I got smiles, chats, hugs and even marriage proposals! My limited budget had me using the bus or walking and I was shopping and eating with locals. My circle of friends exploded after diving on Purple Cave and meeting Charlotte, a French vet working in Mauritius. Her invitations and introductions had me meeting ladies who had me rooted into a ladies’ Bible study group and church very quickly. I was feeling safe and happy. Enough so, to extend my stay twice! My social life was so busy that it threatened to interfere with my diving!

There were beach days, road trips, shopping sprees, supper invitations to eat Vanilla Chicken at Le Bistrot d’Edwige and even a night at L’Ajoupa with my young diving buddies, partying until 02h00. An afternoon nap and Red Bull got me through that! There were invitations into the hearts and homes of locals from all cultures, walks of life, religions and age groups. I have never experienced any community as inclusive and caring as this one.

Then I became ill. After a day outing with a group in a minibus, four of us were ill the next day. Overnight I had severe bronchitis with a secondary infection. My GP arrived 15 minutes after I sent him a whatsapp message. He insisted that I phone him in four days to check in or earlier if anything changed in my condition. Friends arrived with groceries and meals. One of the housekeeping ladies took my credit card and prescription and went to the pharmacy to get my medication. Friends visited and we had visits over a safe distance. I had two weeks left before my departure and I was extremely ill. I medicated and willed myself out of bed in a week. But my lungs were going to need more time.

My walks were at an end. My dives were out of the question. Saying goodbye to my Lion Mountain from the Waterfront and greeting my fishermen friends was impossible. In the final couple of days I managed to do a road trip and some sightseeing. The time to say goodbye was creeping up on me like a robber in an alley. I had nowhere to go, but the airport. A friend tried to comfort me, “My dear, you have to go, to be able to come back.”

In one of my first blogs I declared, “Perhaps an unimaginable surprise awaits me!” – And Oh! What a surprise to rediscover myself and find myself dropping anchor in the Bay of Mahebourg. Feeling a sense of belonging and being adopted into a community whose care and love made me feel as rooted as the sugar cane that cover the island, as local as the mangroves in the saltwater lakes or the Hawksbill Sea Turtle at the Trou Moutou dive site.  Who would have guessed that I needed saving as much as the corals?

In the last days I declared that I refuse to say Good-bye. There would only be, “à Bientôt”, see you soon. I had made up my mind that I would return. How could I ignore the sense of purpose I felt in every step of my walks or the awareness of entering the holy of holies once I started a dive descent?  So I managed to greet my Lion Mountain from the yacht club, while having drinks with friends. My dear friend, Charne, who was driving me, agreed to drop me on one of my shorter walks, so that I could do a last walk with the sea next to me. While looking at Lion Mountain over the Bay of Mahebourg, I noticed a small fishing boat with the name, ‘In Time’. My heart became quiet. There is a time for everything. Also a time to go.

The next time I saw Lion Mountain I was at the boarding gate for my flight back to Cape Town, South Africa, preparing to cross the reef again. This time in the air. I took a photograph of my airplane with my Lion Mountain in the distance. The very next moment my Lion disappeared in a gush of rain. One of a few times when nature in Mahebourg was again totally in sync with my emotions. It was time to go.

By Lynette Gerber-Lochenkov