G-strings and Professional Wrestlers.
Palau Pacific Rersort is post card Palau at its finest. The beach is freshly raked each morning, and the umbrellas line the sand, casting symmetrical shadows across the outstretched lawn chairs, inviting guests to relax and soak in the view. PPR is a cure all for any frustrations that occur on island, from personal problems to occupational hazards. A good coffee and a decent read under a giant white umbrella can temper almost any problem. I love post card Palau. Especially on days like this.
After working on Saturday and Sunday, we had the Monday holiday off, and I decided a beach day was in order. I sat on a beach chair, wrapped in a fluffy oversized towel, put on my headphones and sipped overpriced coffee while watching the waves lay themselves gently at the feet of the resort. And then I saw it.
It was in the shape of a "T", and about the width of dental floss. It was white, and left very little to the imagination. Bathing suit bottoms like that rarely made an appearance on the beach here in Palau.
An impeccably tanned, curvy Asian woman strode down the beach, boasting her white g-string and matching top, trailed by her equally bronzed and peroxided boyfriend, who was toting an oversized SLR camera to document the day. Now, I know I'm no Brazillian bathing suit model, but this lady definitely didn't skip the breakfast buffet in the morning, yet still pranced around, seemingly oblivious to the dropped jaws around her. It was great. I laughed and sat up. She dropped to her knees in the shallow water, arching her back and flipping her hair into the wind. He perched, snapping away, encouraging different angles. Others began to take note, laughing and leaning forward in their chairs.
It wasn’t good enough. He backed up toward their beach bags and rummaged around, finally producing a pair of 4" wedge sandals, complete with clear heels. That should do it. He thrust them toward her, and she slipped them on, awkwardly walking along the beach, posing against umbrellas and sailboats. I searched for an MTV crew.
Maggie walked up behind me, her bag over her shoulder.
"Oh. My. God." She started laughing and pulled out her camera.
After growing tired of people watching, we went up the steps for some lunch on the patio overlooking the pool. Several giant men covered in tattoos laid in beach chairs by the pool. Tim informed us that they were the wrestlers from a WWF like performance that took place in Koror last night. (We reviewed the free pamphlet at the video store the night before. My money was on a masked man named "liger," though I didn’t get to find out who ultimately claimed the belt.) So, to complete the day of utter absurdity, the wrestlers eventually took their places at either side of the pool and began to practice their moves, flinging themselves into the air and colliding, landing tangled in the deep end of the pool, and even taking a small Japanese man (voluntarily I assure you), pressing him over their heads and spinning one, two, three times before launching him into the pool. Honestly, when I woke up that morning, I never would have expected to eat a salad while watching a 250 pound white man, adorned with an entire back piece of tribal tattoo artistry hoist a small Japanese tourist above his head and plunge him into the deep end of the PPR pool while small tourist children gaped from the shallow end, clutching their flourescent floating noodles nervously. I feel like my experience here is complete. Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Some days, I just love Palau.
