Whew. I have written so many rough drafts of these various observations of life here... too many observations, some intense, too much to read. I'll try exclamation points per topic instead:
When we first arrived at the Little Salty Place, village life was so reminiscent of living in Iowa in the '50s. Rural, even. Vehicles were rare. Folks traveled with a wheelbarrow laden with picnics down the road to the beach. All felt safe, family, peaceful. Still feels safe, family, peaceful but there are cars, trucks, 4-wheelers.... Cell phones, TVs... can't be helped but I wish I could warn them what is being lost byte by byte...
The Ghost from the Future (that would be me) wanted so much to warn them... I did TRY to stop one friend from taking ALL the lobsters, even those with eggs -- to take only the largest... but he could not hear me. "Hay mucho" he said. His mother laments how few and how small they are these days, and anyway, her freezer is full. Still he brings more.
And there was no way I could ever stop the utter destruction of an entire ecosystem right before my eyes. Money is far too strong a pull. The last vestige of jungle and lagoons that stretched along the shore when first we came here was bulldozed two weeks ago. The last lagoon was filled in. In its place are truckloads and truckloads of dirt, building up a platform for yet more tourist rentals. The villagers comment how beautiful it was before... with all the tropical birds everywhere, and the giant iguanas. All gone.
Despite the Biblical warning not to build your house on sand, Rogelio will build not only on a beachfront, but this last one is right at the river mouth... which will flood violently in the coming monsoon season as it always does. He is building on what was a lagoon, for goodness sake!
And every single earlyearly dawn, Robert and I lie on our mats on the porch amazed by the cacophany of birdsong (think RJ Lurtsma - WGBH)... and then eat our breakfast with birdbooks and binoculars on the table. The spectacular tropical birds are gone but what are left are still beautiful... And right now, one of our large canopied trees is covered in small fruits that look just like transluscent pearls, beloved of ALL our birds... So when two of our favorite kids showed up one evening, pointing at the treetops in our jungly backyard, we thought nothing of it... til we saw the air'powered slingshot and their excited gesture at a "hit"!!
I came out with my very best Spanish (well, all I COULD come up with in my horror) and yelled out, "!Ya! !No mas! Adios! !ADIOS!" They were having fun killing songbirds.
And for those of you, if there actually ARE any of you, following the threads of these entries... Guero is back and in full form, threatening the LIVES of his targets, now. While out in the lineup for the waves ("Voy a matar'te..." or whatever... even though he speaks fluent English he pretends he knows only Spanish). He's working on one person in particular just now -- starting in with hateful insults for others to hear, then he brings his surfboard right up beside his intended victim and sneers a death threat face to face. Bad juju, very very bad juju. We are keeping a very low profile ourselves, under the radar, quiet and unobtrusive, going about our business, keeping as much separation as we can. Robert is out there in the line'up, but stays unobtrusive.
Last little Future Ghost entry... That was ALMOST me! So it seemed at the time, anyway. NOT connected in any way to the swine flu hullabaloo, I apparently ate some unrefrigerated cooked chicken. I was in no pain, but my stomach rumbled all night (Robert says). Early morning, I stumbled off the porch and headed into our jungle path to the hole-in-the-back.. but barely had I entered the jungle when the ground pulled me down. I could NOT stay upright. It was all in slow motion, so I recall realizing I was going down, and the thought passed into my head that perhaps I was actually dying (from the bad food). Very calm, noticing the early morning light on the jungly leaves, thinking this might be my last vision.... I do not recall reaching the ground. I do not know how long I lay there. For the next three days, while still never in pain, I was rarely awake, rarely conscious..... just rolling around a bit, while flattened on my sleeping mat. Then it was over with no repercussions.
Robert just showed up. End of entry. We off to get a licuado or whatever! Town trip, town trip! Love to all, y hasta la vista amigos. BTW, we plan to head north around mid June. How is that for a firm date.