Yesterday, (Monday, May 12)the fiftieth day of my trip, halfway home, a trip the purpose of which was to rapidly dislocate myself from the comfort of home, a place I know, to someplace faraway, foreign, unfamiliar, and make my way slowly back, was appropriately spent in four buses and two taxis for twelve hours getting from one place to another.
Fifty days ago I landed at 9pm in San Jose, Costa Rica. Fifty days from now I should be pulling into Penn Station on Amtrak sometime in the evening.
This morning I sat on the front patio of my hostel in Santa Elena at 6:00am drinking coffee, watching the rain blow through in endless tides of mist. Continue reading Passing Through
Costa Rica is a trap, set by who knows to derail my trip before it barely even starts. I can see why so many ex-pats end up here. It’s an easy place to drop out; to show up and decide never to move again. Continue reading The Conservation of Energy
There are strange bird sounds made by unfamiliar and unseen birds and the sound of crunching footsteps on the dirt road just the other side of the hedge full of flowers I don’t recognize coming through the screened window of my hotel room in Puerto Jimenez. Continue reading The strange and the familiar