Hard pressed on my right. My center is yielding. Impossible to maneuver. Situation excellent. I attack.
— Marshal Ferdinand Foch
Tuesday, October 23, 2012 (DAY 233)
Two days late of a relatively long awaited celebration of a six-month anniversary with my Canadian backpacker, Krista, who has stalked me from our first meeting in Utila, Hondruas. Tonight is date night. Waiting outside of the Taco Stop she arrives just shortly after 6pm and to add to the special occasion I’ve even picked a few brightly yellow flowers that are overgrown in our hostel courtyard, which are most likely a set of weeds, but when you live on a frugal budget it’s the smallest of gestures that tend to create the simplistic lifestyle we’ve both grown accustomed to in Central America. Being the longest running friend that I have known since I’ve left the United States we leave behind Bri and begin walking towards the beach. Tonight, our reservation is in the VIP section of The Black Whale as we have our own quiet little couch to catch up and reminisce. She even admits that she has worn a dress in honor of our special night. Laughing at how different life has become for us we discuss some of the obvious differences of the life of a backpacker. For example, spending $5 on a meal at a restaurant is a luxury, while back home you would easily spend upwards of $20 or more. It’s true that when you are put in a situation that warrants a more simplistic way of living the happiness that is gained daily is an appreciative reward for enjoying the company of good friends. After enjoying the comforts of our private little haven we decide to take up the two empty hammock chairs that overlook the ocean and begin to imagine what we would normally be doing at 9:30pm on a Tuesday evening back home in late October. Smiling at the thought of the cold weather that we have grown up with, it’s a far different cry from the hot weather and the light Pacific breeze blowing off the beach and neither of us can help but laugh at where life has not only brought us, but brought us to end up on a more permanent basis in the same small southern town of Nicaragua. I know that wherever life may take each of us, the friendship that we have forged over the past six months will be one that is life long.
Two days late of a relatively long awaited celebration of a six-month anniversary with my Canadian backpacker, Krista, who has stalked me from our first meeting in Utila, Hondruas. Tonight is date night. Waiting outside of the Taco Stop she arrives just shortly after 6pm and to add to the special occasion I’ve even picked a few brightly yellow flowers that are overgrown in our hostel courtyard, which are most likely a set of weeds, but when you live on a frugal budget it’s the smallest of gestures that tend to create the simplistic lifestyle we’ve both grown accustomed to in Central America. Being the longest running friend that I have known since I’ve left the United States we leave behind Bri and begin walking towards the beach. Tonight, our reservation is in the VIP section of The Black Whale as we have our own quiet little couch to catch up and reminisce. She even admits that she has worn a dress in honor of our special night. Laughing at how different life has become for us we discuss some of the obvious differences of the life of a backpacker. For example, spending $5 on a meal at a restaurant is a luxury, while back home you would easily spend upwards of $20 or more. It’s true that when you are put in a situation that warrants a more simplistic way of living the happiness that is gained daily is an appreciative reward for enjoying the company of good friends. After enjoying the comforts of our private little haven we decide to take up the two empty hammock chairs that overlook the ocean and begin to imagine what we would normally be doing at 9:30pm on a Tuesday evening back home in late October. Smiling at the thought of the cold weather that we have grown up with, it’s a far different cry from the hot weather and the light Pacific breeze blowing off the beach and neither of us can help but laugh at where life has not only brought us, but brought us to end up on a more permanent basis in the same small southern town of Nicaragua. I know that wherever life may take each of us, the friendship that we have forged over the past six months will be one that is life long.
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