I step down from the rocks by the pavement down to the vast white grains of soft sand. It is quiet, or perhaps I am just drowning out the noise. I am surrounded by the open arms of the palm trees, blowing steadily in the slight breeze coming from the left. The water is pristine, a shade of light electric blue that I’m sure couldn’t be found anywhere else in the world. There is not a cloud in the sky. It is like a serene episode on the Travel Channel of the most breathtaking sights of planet Earth.
I sink into the electric sea, wrapped in underwater survival gear. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper.
Never in my life have I seen anything like this. Nothing so calm and peaceful, and yet so stunningly gorgeous and alive. I am in a whole different world, where I can touch everything around me, even though I wasn’t supposed to. Colors of every shade of every rainbow surrounded me, so many greens and pinks and neon purples! I have never seen something like neon purples, let alone on the back of a living, breathing, swimming creature. Who knew that just below the surface of the perfectly blue waters was a completely different atmosphere, inexplicably different but yet just as beautiful as our own? I want to stay under forever, if the oxygen tank on my back pinky promised never to run out.
I glide over to the coral reefs, where my father is. He points at the reef, a motion for me to look inside. I peer in, and if I had been surrounded by air, I would have gasped in awe at the picture-perfect sight below my fogged up goggles. An entire school of fish, decorated with crystal white and fiery orange gather, swimming around minding their own business, like such a sight is completely normal for them—that, of course it is. I wish I had a camera to take pictures—no; actually, a picture wouldn’t do it justice. I want to take the whole world down with me and show everyone what exactly I was witnessing.
Fast forward about a week. I step off the plane, still feeling the ground rock side to side—talk about what a week on a boat will do to you. Three of my best friends greet me at the airport, because to a group of close-knit teenage girls, a week apart might as well be a lifetime. They instantly swarm me, asking all sorts of questions: “Was the cruise so much fun?”, “Did you meet any cute guys?”, “What was your favorite place you went to?” The last one is easiest to answer.
“Cozumel. Mexico is stunning.”
“Ew, I’ve been to Mexico. It’s not that great,” Kristen replied.
I shoot back, “Maybe not above the surface.”