Some friends opened up a lovely little cafe on the Calzada in Granada back in December and it quickly became one of my favorite haunts. I spent the hot afternoons in the cool shade, surrounded by relaxing music, cafe, and beautiful art. Cafe de los Suenos always offered tasty dulces and warm smiles.
It was easy to believe it was invierno, winter, as I moved swiftly south in the frigid air conditioning of Tica Bus. I sat wrapped tightly in my wool scarf and looked out the frosted windows as the brown landscape of Nicaragua passed by. Brown because the rainy season had ended in early November, leaving the sun to scorch the verdant green of the Nicaragua I was introduced to back in April. After an hour long wait to cross the border, my first impression of Costa Rica is that the cars are shinier. I got used to seeing cars held together by ducktape and wishes in Nicaragua – doors long dented closed, windows that didn’t roll down, or missing door panels. In Costa Rica, the cars seem bigger, shinier, newer. As the bus rolled ever southward, the landscape became more verde.
My last full day in Nicaragua was a blur of color, sound, poetry, and music. I spent the morning running around taking care of last minute tasks that I’d put off until the ultimo momento. Tasks such as buying memory for the camera that I bought in November and making a few other last minute purchases before departing for Costa Rica.
I was making my way back home mid-afternoon, and made the fortuitous choice to walk instead of look for a taxi. There, in front of Iglesia Xalteva, was float after float with poets spouting their poems. Following the poets were marching bands and row upon row of dancers in colorful costumes all gathered for the Procesion of the Poesia.
I first heard the story of OM from a homeless man on the streets of Providence. I was 15 or 16 at the time, and being dropped off at Thayer Street to spend the day in Providence with friends was the thing to do. My friends were probably in a record store digging for new sounds while I leaned against a building outside smoking a cigarette. A man approached to bum a smoke, and then began to tell me that the world is made up of sound. He spoke about different frequencies of vibration and told me how solid objects only appear to have weight and substance because of the speed with which they vibrate. The original vibration that predated all, he said, was OM.
One of the gifts of this world is that every person we encounter is a reflection. We are each a mirror for all the beauty and chaos encompassed deep within our hearts. We are each shining examples of our one flawed, shared humanity. When we notice a particular attitude exhibited in the people around us and it triggers a reaction in our own hearts, that is information telling us that we are holding a similar fear or emotion within that needs our attention.
Lolo was brought to the Hotel a little more than a month ago by a Nicaraguan woman and her teenage son. When they told me they had a baby monkey with them, I thought that surely I was misunderstanding with my poor Spanish. You can imagine my surprise when she reached into her bag and lifted out an actual baby monkey. She told us that he was only four months old.
I write often about my perspective of life in Nicaragua. Today I thought it would be a nice change of pace to get the perspective of a Nicaraguan living in the US.
Meet Frederick. He moved to Los Angeles a few months ago to live with his father. Prior to leaving, he spent his whole life here in Granada. He’s an artisan, and I met him selling his jewelry in the Calzada here in Granada.
Word of the Day: Erratic
1. deviating from the usual or proper course in conduct or opinion; eccentric; queer: erratic behavior.
2. having no certain or definite course; wandering; not fixed: erratic winds.
3. Geology . noting or pertaining to a boulder or the like carried by glacial ice and deposited some distance from its place of origin.
4. (of a lichen) having no attachment to the surface on which it grows.
deviating from the usual or proper course in conduct or opinion;
eccentric; queer: erratic behavior.
My little path spins onward, wandering and not fixed. Read the rest of this entry
Stop Looking for a Soul Mate
…and mate with your soul.”
That’s the advice my teacher gave me as I sat down for a Vedic Astrology reading with him this time last year. I didn’t initially tell him that I had been planning a move to Central America, but as he delved into my Astrology, he said again and again that living in a foreign land was not an if, but a when. In his eerily accurate reading, he predicted that I would find spiritual fulfillment and happiness in a foreign land and with a foreign man. Read the rest of this entry
I woke with a touch of gripe early this morning. I used to translate gripe (pronounced grip – ay) as flu, which is the official Google Translate definition, but it is actually more used to define any cold-like symptoms. So I woke feeling a little under the weather with a runny nose that didn’t improve much even after a small wake up sequence and meditation. I’ve been reading news stories about the strong breed of flu being passed around the US this year, and I’m grateful that this is the closest I’ve come to it. Read the rest of this entry