A collection of pleasure products, goods, and services found in Panama City, Panama, curated by pleasure concierge Deborah Porter, with sensual articles and essays.
I was traveling the highlands of Papua New Guinea. In the villages, people are living sustainably, eating healthily while longing for the ultra-processed lifestyle they've seen in movies. Not everyone has that longing, but some do. And I was the first Black American tourist they had ever seen. I was the sole tourist at that time. I looked just like them. They felt like family.
The people are fit from working hard to sustain themselves and their community. They were genuinely full of life and joy and purpose. While the men might be muscular, the women are not. By Western standards, no one was much to look at. To me, they were all stunningly beautiful.
In one village my "guide" was a twenty-two-year-old young man named Gaguyo. On my arrival, when I stepped on the wood to climb into the yard of the compound, the step collapsed. And Gaguyo chirped, "You're heavy."
We planned to play cards on my final night. Gaguyo had taken me to the Big River that day. The Big River is where they wash their clothes and their bodies, and where the children swim and dive in inner tubes in the swift current. The shore was very rocky, and my heavy self couldn't do much more than sit and watch. Gaguyo and I sat partially submerged in the cool rushing water watching the children play and eating shrimp chips and candy shared with the other villagers. We sat in the cool water under the hot sun for four or five hours.
I asked him if everyone was coming to play cards that night. And he replied, "If not, I will stay up all night and play with you."
Was that flirtation?
It wasn't like any flirtation I'd ever experienced. But something in my body stirred. I brushed it off because this strapping young man could not possibly be flirting with my old, heavy self.
I am sitting on rocks up to my waist in the river, wearing quick-dry Bermudas and a watermelon shirt. My microbraids are pulled back into a ponytail. Baldness and grey hair frame my forehead. I look like the sixty-something woman that I am.
I shake off the delusion that Gaguyo's comment about staying awake all night means anything more than the fact that we have an early morning departure to drive me to town to catch my flight. But just in case, when we returned from the river, I put on my nice African indigo-print dress and let my hair down.
The rest of the day was filled with cultural dances and performances. The fire man showed me how to make fire by rubbing sticks together. They cooked a meal for me inside a bamboo stick. There was not another hint of flirtation, much to my disappointment. But I held out hope.
When evening came, we met at the table where we had played cards the previous night. There had been about five of us laughing and throwing cards. I ate my dinner alone, and no one showed up for cards. Even Gaguyo was missing for quite a while. When he finally arrived, he told me he would turn on the generator so I could charge my phone. I asked him if he would like to watch a movie on my phone in my room. Not very subtle.