Our show was called The House of Dancing Water. Geysers shot sixty-five feet high and could catapult a person into the air if they happened to stand in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Jets and rain were additional attractions augmenting the – in itself breathtaking – pool which was hidden under eight hydraulic lifts. They could be moved at any time to reveal either a flat surface or a body of water, alive with bubbles.
By the age of sixteen, I felt a burning hunger inside of me, urging me to pack my bags and explore the world. Everyone else in my family had stayed within a fifty-mile radius throughout their lives. They felt rather terrified at the thought of venturing further, much like the old seafarers, afraid to drop off the edge of the world should they get too close to the horizon. I am not sure why I was the only one of that bunch who couldn’t stop thinking about far-away destinations.
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