No matter what the situation may be, there is always something positive you can do about it. – Ralph Marston
Thursday, June 21, 2012 (DAYS 109 – 113)
6:45am, and I’m lying on my back in bed staring up at the lightly painted yellow walls that emit an almost euphoric sense of calmness in the morning sunlight. The bed across from mine sits vacant with the departure of Cameron first, and Roberto from just the day before. The debate of whether to go back to sleep or begin the day in what has now become my typical early morning fashion, I continue to lay motionless as a string of thoughts float through my head. I’ve slowly realized that another perk of living life free has been the ability to slow down the racing thoughts that once plagued me. It’s almost as if a veil that once shrouded my vision in a dense fog has progressively evaporated with each day bringing with it a new sense of clarity by removing much of the stress and complicated matters that, yes, are a part of life, but when it becomes consuming to the point that we lose our dreams in the process I wander when it becomes worth it and when we just surrender to the motions of living an existence that is on perpetual repeat.
6:45am, and I’m lying on my back in bed staring up at the lightly painted yellow walls that emit an almost euphoric sense of calmness in the morning sunlight. The bed across from mine sits vacant with the departure of Cameron first, and Roberto from just the day before. The debate of whether to go back to sleep or begin the day in what has now become my typical early morning fashion, I continue to lay motionless as a string of thoughts float through my head. I’ve slowly realized that another perk of living life free has been the ability to slow down the racing thoughts that once plagued me. It’s almost as if a veil that once shrouded my vision in a dense fog has progressively evaporated with each day bringing with it a new sense of clarity by removing much of the stress and complicated matters that, yes, are a part of life, but when it becomes consuming to the point that we lose our dreams in the process I wander when it becomes worth it and when we just surrender to the motions of living an existence that is on perpetual repeat.
Almost forgetting that today is also moving day, I spring to life with one mission on my mind. Coffee. After a short-lived moment of victory by finding a clean cup amid the constant mess of dishes in the sink that are left daily for the maid, I retire to the couch to drink alone in shame because I know if Juan Valdez were to bust in and witness the sludge I was putting in my body, without hesitation he would have his slave of a donkey administer a true donkey punch. Bracing for a knock-down drag out fight with an aging Colombian and his burro saddled down with burlap sacks of supposed coffee beans that we all really know is smuggling dozens of championship tee shirts with the losing team on them, I sit and wait with ninja-like reflexes. Finally, my Asian stereotype will pay off. In my highly caffeinated state and ambush-ready position ready to pounce on that smug coffee salesman that can’t even upgrade to a car, I accidentally send a flying crane kick to the face of Michelle as she enters the living room. Surprised by the effectiveness in my technique that would make Mr. Miagi proud, this was not how I wanted to say good morning and herro to one of the girls. After mopping up the blood and examining the wound, I tell her the two crooked front teeth are barely noticeable especially since she’s part British. Before I know it the rest of the house is awake, and I am left pondering through brainless noisy chatter where every sentence remarkably ends in “aye,” how I ended up with four Canadian chicas in Nicaragua. I doubt that even Noriega would have an exit strategy for this particular situation.
The plan to divide and conquer San Juan del Sur like the Denver Metro Area does with Commerce City has been set in to motion as Lexi and Krista move to the secluded hills of The Naked Tiger Hostel, while Lindsay, Michelle, and I take a progressive stance for urban living with air conditioning by moving back to our first place of residence when we first arrived in SJDS the beginning of the month. Unlike the long narrow dorm room that resembled a claustrophobic submarine, the second time around we are given a stand alone home that has a full kitchen with what I’m almost certain is the only refrigerator in Central America that is powerful enough produce ice. The small two-room casa has the feeling of a cozy cottage as you enter the open living room with a small table positioned in front of a side window. On the left, the kitchen is what can be expected with the bare essentials; a four-burner gas stove with the propane tank tucked under the small stainless steel sink, a set of cherry cabinets hang on the wall that separates the two rooms, and in the corner just below the sweet, sweet acon (air conditioning), is the little refrigerator that could. Following the symmetrical wall of the kitchen towards the back far corner of the room, there is a small doorway just beyond the massive wardrobe closet that probably has a faun and a white witch living in it surrounded by a frozen landscape. Fearful of being turned to stone I avoid the obese piece of furniture for such a small space and enter the cramped bedroom. Two bunkbeds and a small bookcase take up almost every bit of floor space leaving just enough of a path to the bathroom. After walking the hellish two blocks in the heat with our backpacks, we have agreed that our reward for being so highly motivated is an afternoon at the beach.
We arrive just after 2pm on the sandy beachfront of Arriba’s Sports Bar where we meet up with Krista and Lexi along with half a dozen new friends that we are all introduced to as everyone is intensely watching the UEFA Euro 2012 futbol match between the Czech Republic and Portugal. Since I have yet to meet any backpackers from Portugal and having traveled with Eva who is from Prague, the choice of who to root for was an easy one, the beach won hands down. Collapsing in a beach chair with an absolutely gorgeous picture perfect view directly in front of me, I am still spellbound by the majestic beauty that consistently takes my breath away and makes me happy to be alive, but enough about bikini beach volleyball, because the surf is quite lovely as well. The scorching sun reaches maximum ferocity and the sweat dripping off me tells me it’s time for a dunk in the Pacific. Skipping across the sand like hot cross buns, the fiery coals that have brought discomfort to the souls of my feet are relieved with the cool water as a wave hurls over me. After nearly drowning Lexi for not being adequately prepared to handle my aquatic skills with my impressive waterwings, we return to the shore in disappointment as Lindsay has seductively invited the presence of a local. His name. Stranger danger. Ten minutes later, however, we are free and clear but now we have new pairs of sunglasses to tone down Krista from hogging all the ugly. You know you heart me Winterpeg.
As the sun begins to drop over the horizon, we enjoy dinner at Hendry’s Iguanas with a gorgeous backdrop behind us, and the NBA Finals in front of us. Despite causing a minor riot cheering on OKC, it is not enough, and I’m forced to watch the Miami Heat dismantle the former Supersonics. Wiping my tears away with the band of hippie bracelets I’ve acquired, it is the end of another, almost perfect day in SJDS and I’m ready to return to our air-conditioned den of paradise.
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