Cahuita, Costa Rica

I love the idea of writing a long, detailed blog about my daily happenings.  But when it comes down to it, I choose sitting in the hammock by the ocean, though my brain is full of fun stories. 

I have been on the Caribbean Coast, in Cahuita, for a few days now.  It was a difficult transition from the bliss I found in La Fortuna but I have given the place time in order to settle in a little bit. Several times during the day I hear my thoughts saying, Time to Leave, but then something happens and I remain.

Life is funny here.  Rasta vibe.  The residents yell out to me every time I pass them, Hey Chica, Que Rica, Pretty Girl, My love, Hola, Mi Amor, and more more more.  It is so ridiculous that I smile, sometimes laugh based on what is said, give a sideways glance, a Peace sign, and keep moving on.  It works for me.  I saw a lady earlier today yell at a man to leave her alone.  I am pretty sure that I am enjoying the experience more than her.  And so you wonder if I am safe.  Oddly, because my response is friendly, it takes the charge out of the verbal advances and I am on easy terms with the people of this town.  They like to talk about having Good Vibes here.  I feel it...but am also pretty sure it is because of all the weed they are smoking.

I am never pressured or hassled to choose a restaurant, a walking companion, or a tour.  Everyone offers to be my guide as they see me walking...in and out of town, along the beach, up and down the streets.  Lots of thinking time for me.

This morning I went snorkeling for a couple hours.  It was not spectacular compared to my previous experiences but it was ok.  Having so much alone time and superficial connections with people is difficult at times.  But for some reason I stay here and observe my thoughts and feelings.  They are kind of like snorkeling.  At times I look around and see something beautiful, am filled with excitement, and follow it around for awhile until I blink and cannot find it again.  I search for it, swim faster looking around me while my heart pumps steadily. I see it briefly darting behind a rock but cannot quite seem to ever grasp that shared experience again.  So I swim onward, kind of bored, waiting for excitement to grab me again.  I look for the boat, think about just quitting, as though no better fish is there.  But, alas, I breathe and toodle around - taking my time - and when I blink, a different exotic fish comes into focus.  He was there all along, I just could not see him, was not ready.  That is why I give my experiences time.  I absolutely long for the old ones, play them in my mind over and over.  But then, when I am just at the point of being ready, a new opportunity is there to behold.  Sometimes the new option sucks and I feel bored so I pee in the water.

But I like to think that staying in the water is preparing me for the next great experience.  It may not be altogether new but I am closer to it with every moment that passes. 

So now I will go into the street to let the stray man who yells across the street, I want to Make Love to You, cut open the FOUR coconuts he insisted on giving me for the bread I gifted him with for dinner.

Pura Vida.