Sol, Arena y Mar
3 of 40
Hello, and welcome to the third edition of 40B40. In today’s piece, “Sol, arena y mar,” I talk about my relationship with the sun and how it has almost killed me several times. You’ll probably feel identified if you are part of the low melanin club. Side note: “Sol, arena y mar” is also a hit song from national treasure Luis Miguel, highly recommended. I hope you enjoy this essay, and don’t forget to subscribe!
The first time I saw the sea was in Cancun, Quintana Roo. It was also the first time I got on a plane. The Caribbean Sea was turquoise, and the water was warm. There were almost no waves. It felt like a saltwater swimming pool. The fine white sand was a dream. It was the first big family vacation my parents had planned. We were all excited about it.
At this point, my parents knew that applying sunscreen on their children was important. My sisters and I looked like we had bathed on this thick white paste and towel-dried ourselves as best as possible, but we still had some streaks to take care of. So, the sunscreen was so effective that on our last day, someone from the hotel asked us if we had just arrived since we didn’t look tan.
Here’s the thing, growing up, I never got tan. I would go from pale to lobster, then shed old skin flakes for weeks until new skin emerged and back to pale. My sisters can tan; they have what is called better genes. Before they arrived, maybe because I’m the oldest and my parents were still learning, they didn’t stress that much about the need for protection from the sun. So, I roamed free with my cousins when we would go to the pool until it was time for lunch. Ninety minutes later, we were back in the pool until I felt my skin get red and warm.
I got sunburnt a lot when I was a kid. One night I developed a fever after spending the whole day at the pool. I was at my grandma’s house, laying on my stomach with all my cousins around, caking clay on my back, neck, and arms to try and cool my skin off. I remember I was going in and out of sleep. Another time, we got home from the pool, and I couldn’t bear having a t-shirt on. My dad took me to the emergency room, where I got an IV and some medicated ointment on my skin. I might have had sun poisoning, come to think of it.
But as I said earlier, once they realized that kid lobster could make an appearance, my parents made it their life mission to slather sunscreen on their kids so they wouldn’t have to run to the hospital. Plus, the hole in the ozone layer was all the rage, so they probably panicked and took action. That was a winning combo to get sun poisoning if you were me in the nineties, have fair skin, take your shirt off, spend any time outside, and don’t wear sunscreen; boom, you’re dead. OK, not dead, but I would be uncomfortable for a couple of weeks after each one of these episodes.
Then when I was a teen, I would try to get tanned because how cool is it to be tan? But I couldn’t achieve that look. Tanning oils brought teen lobster into the mix, and the cycle would repeat itself. At that point, going to the pool or the beach wasn’t that great of an idea. I can’t tan, I could die if I don’t paint myself with sunscreen, I’m not the best swimmer. So, I avoided pools that were not indoors and tried not to spend too much time by the ocean for a good decade.
My kids and wife love pools and the beach. They all get gorgeously tan, which seems like rubbing salt in the wound. But on the other hand, thank you, Jesus, because I already expected to have baby lobsters, and I’m glad that’s not the case. The challenge is that I need to engage in these activities as part of our family life. I can’t tell my wife, “Babe, I don’t do pools and beaches,” and expect things to continue normally. So, of course, I have adapted because I love them. There have been some scary situations, though.
One time, the six of us, plus my mother-in-law, went to Phil’s Fish Market in Moss Landing, California. This place is basically on the water, and before going to the restaurant, we thought taking the kids for a walk on the beach would be a good idea. I had Mateo strapped to me with the baby carrier, and Diana and my mother-in-law were playing zone with Oliver, Emilio, and Lucia. We told the boys not to jump into the water since they weren’t in swim trunks, and we would have lunch soon. Two seconds later, a wave was dragging Emilio into the ocean. With Mateo still attached, I ran into the water, grabbed Emilio, and tossed him into the dry sand.
I was fuming. I was fuming, wet, and had a lot of adrenaline running through my system. It was one of those split-second decisions. I know I’m not a good swimmer. I had a baby attached to me. Thankfully, everything ended well, but I filed the episode under “things that could go wrong at the beach.” Emilio didn’t even know he was in danger. He thought it was hilarious and said, “Again!” Minutes later, I got a beer and some food in my belly, so things picked up afterward.
Applying sunscreen to four children that want to get in the water as soon as possible is challenging. That’s why we got everyone rashguards. Yes, I also have one. Because if I don’t want to take a bath in sunscreen and I don’t wish for Señor Lobster to make an appearance, rashguards are a must. The rashguard is growing on me, I admit. It allows me to stay in the sun while playing with my children without worrying about sunscreen. I may look like I fell in the water with all my clothes on, but I don’t care. I already impressed the girl I wanted to impress.
Facing my fears and adapting has been a trip. I love my family to pieces and would do anything for them--even changing my mind about pools and beaches; I’m working on it. For example, we visited San Diego last September for Diana’s fortieth birthday. I did some boogie boarding, built sand castles with the kids, and enjoyed our time at the beach. Even though I was on high alert, I was able to be in the moment and have fun. The rashguard helped. The only downside is that we still have sand from that trip in the van.
Before you go
I have some questions for you.
Do you have the ability to tan?
Should we make “Low Melanin Club” t-shirts?
Have you ever gotten heat stroke/sun poisoning?
What’s the best beach you’ve been to?
How cool are rashguards?