Journal Entries

July 22nd, 2008

I am leaning to submit to the moment. Learning. I want less. I talk less, listen more. It takes much much more to aggravate me. Annoyance comes less easily. Instead I have been practicing submitting to the moment- finding humor in it. Relishing in that one fleeting moment of life- or being alive. I remind myself that I love human beings- and hating another human being is like hating the lot of the human race.
I will not prescribe to hating. I will not be easy to accept prejudice or impatience. I am a lover.

May our lives contribute in some small way to the happiness of others.
May we learn to give and love more than we take each day.
May all beings everywhere be truly happy and peaceful.

July 23rd, 2008

I can hardly begin to explain how great it feels to be here, back on the farm. The bus ride to Talamanca de Puerto Viejo took 5 1/2 hours. Then a taxi ride from Puerto Viejo past Hone Creek took another 40 minutes and I traveled gladly, without hesitation, without worrying about time and the passing of it. This place offers peace, tranquility and the life lessons I seek. It is here I have learned what life feels like when there are no phones or televisions to distract people. No material things to speak of or longings for them.

Tonight I was like magic. Imagine this- a large cement platform open air kitchen surrounded by jungle. Large lush plants and flowers. The family gathered in the kitchen and around the long dark wood table while I cooked with Rosa and Jose. It seems earlier today Grandma got a chicken. Meat in the house is not common. I lifted the pot to find the whole carcass cut into pieces and simmering with whole tomatoes, celery, garlic, onion and vegetable oil. Jose pulled the meat from the bone while I prepared a tomato sauce and spaghetti, we also had roasted vegetables and a fresh loaf of wheat bread that I bought from a friend in Puerto Viejo. The meal was perfection really, with a bit of Argentinian Vino Tinto and a star fruit refresco. Being included around the table felt like family, and all seems very happy to have me here again. Grandma told stories about her childhood, and what life is like for her now living so close to the Panama border. Tomorrow I will begin the last mural.

July 23rd, 2008

Today was like any other day on the farm... this tropical place of sweltering heat and humidity of fresh fruit and long days. I woke this morning to grandma making fried breakfast bread. It's too good to resist, served with guava jam and banana. I had red tea made of flowers I collected from the trees. A woman taught me this. The tea is rich in iron and vitamins A and C. I started right away on painting the "mural" on the other side of the cabina. This cabina is furthest from the road and pathway and closest to the river- which means more bugs, and also bats. Cute little black animals that hardly move, making small squeek noises if I move too quickly.

In the afternoon we swam in the river. It must have rained very hard up river yesterday, the river was the cloudiest I have ever seen it. Kaleb and Jose took turns swinging from a high branch and dropping into the river- and then diving below with a mask and a strange hand-made fishing spear with a knife at one end and an elastic band that is wrapped around the wrist and then released for tension. Back in the kitchen there was a government organization visiting, giving a training session on proper food presentation and hospitality for tourists. Blah. The beauty of this place is the simplicity and the family itself- not that its like a Hilton.

The wind never seemed more alive to me as it did today. It came suddenly, as if following me down a path, and flew through and around me, meanwhile bringing down a tree that was probably at least 60 feet in height- a large old yue. Another near one of the cabinas. The sky turned a dark grey and Rosa came running toward me saying "its dangerous". A thick and heavy rain went into the late afternoon. A small dish for lunch- rice with tuna and tomato sauce. Then sleep. A stiff nap awakened by my bladder urging me to move. More painting. The rain continuing into the twilight. A walk to the pulperia. I bought a cabbage, an onion, and some black tea for less than $2.00. Jose collected limes for me, and we rummaged trees for mangos on the walk home. The pulperia is a strange thing for me. Hair products sold by the sample, large blocks of soft blue soap labeled "jabon azul". Random tools, parts, and children's toys from China, no doubt. Vegetables, coffee and chocolate.

July 24th, 2008

Finished the painting. Its pretty and I surprisingly really like it. Yoga with Sara for two hours. Played with Robi. Dinner with the family again. Robi and the cat Masinga slept with me. It rained hard all night and into the morning. Perfect weather for deep slumber and sueños.

July 25th, 2008

This morning I had breakfast with Marelda (Grandma) and Andrick. Tea and a few bites of gallo pinto. Grandma, who I called Abuelita, is so very charming and sweet. She lives in Sixola with Rosa;s sister.

I cleaned up my mess and lucky for me Carlos showed up and we talked for awhile about the Pacific coast of the country. He is the nicest man who works here. Soft eyes and always smiling, willing to help anyone. He told me he has never seen the Pacific. This is crazy to me because a bus ticket can be had for 2000 colones and a hotel for less than 5000. It seems that tourism has caused some (or many) nationals from visiting the most beautiful parts of the country. This makes me sad, that a working man who eats and lives simply cannot afford a small weekend vacation in another city.

I packed up. Walked to the pulperia with my backpack, but there the man who was going to give me a ride into town, had half of his truck taken apart and spilled around the lawn. How humbling and wonderful to have to lug my own things, find my own way, meet no one for days who speaks my language... as I passed through the country side, walking towards town I wondered how long it would take me. I gazed to the mountain and sang to the cows in the pouring rain, and best of all, I enjoyed it.

I stopped at Amelia's house, the President of the Women's Association of Farms, and of El Yue. I met her family. We hugged. She told me I am welcome anytime and that her home will always be a home to me. I then got into the car with her eldest son and his wife- they dropped me off at the cross-roads (they were going the opposite direction). I saw Rosa there! She walked me to the bus stop, we talked, said our goodbyes and I thanked her.

Now I am sitting in room 35 of Hotel Puerto Viejo. This is my third or fourth time here. I don't know fully why, but I love this place. Its loud, in the communal kitchen surfer boys eating huge plates of food, children running around, dogs mulling about... but for 5000 colones a night, a enjoy the atmosphere and this place feels like home. The bathrooms are simple and cheery, and all the water is collected rain water, so its the best for drinking and fresh quick showers, never mind that they are cold- I have grown accustomed to cold showers, quick ones.

July 26th, 2008

I learned things here of course-
traveling alone.
Longing for a companionship for a second- and then remembering why I came here in the first place: solitude.
Clarity.
A chance to get to know myself as a young adult.
Perhaps I didn't learn what I thought I would- quite different things.

This trip was all I could hope for in truth-
I wouldn't change much.
I am more patient. I do want less, give more.
Even the small things go a long long way here.