Puerto Viejo

As for Puerto Viejo, I feel like I missed the bull’s eye. I landed in Costa Rica when I should have landed in Peru. From afar, I didn’t realize the stark contrast between Central and South America. I feel like I am in Rasta land. I am in the Caribbean, where the west African influence has infused with tropical culture. A new type of black people. Coconuts and pineapple and fish and accents. White kids on vacation parade care-freely through the streets as if it is their own personal playground.

I intended to drop myself directly into the unknown. Into a land where everything is unfamiliar. Somewhere that demands the shifting of my life energy to a new set of skills, to adopt a new frame of mind. One which jars the molecules into hyperactivity. That state of change where one day, when the now new stimuli becomes familiar, the cells will fall and settle in their new arrangement. The mosaic painting a new landscape. Instead the feeling of safety and comfort engulfs me. At least I have reached the point of identifying the source of this unhappiness that plagues me in my bed at night. Not just a restlessness. But a grave depression. This dissatisfaction was the incentive for my trip in the first place. To push myself out of my comfort zone. To knock myself off my throne of false sense of security, and facilitate some serious person growth.

Don’t get me wrong. There were many beautiful moments in Puerto Viejo. Including the almost nightly private concert given by the pick-up band Marcellona. They were staying at our hostel and we had the pleasure of listening to them every night while they warmed up to perform at a local bar. This band came together en-transit. Two Frenchmen on guitars and a Spaniard on a saxophone make for a Moorish sound. I have encountered so many musicians this trip! What a blessing to be surrounded by this celebratory element. Music is such a uniting force… a language that breaches verbal barriers. And what profusion of artistic talent in this age group, at this time-space venue of borderless-ness, language hybridity, inter-cultural inquiry. I have so far met hardly anyone short of miraculous. Whether they possess some talent, have love that abounds their heart’s physical constrictions, or a personal history that baffles their listeners. I am in a nucleus… A nucleus of excitement, creative energy, and drive.

Taylor and Golan playing in the sand at Punta Uva

Marcellona giving us at La Ruka a backyard concert

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