As I sit here on the bus in San José, Costa Rica headed for Manuel Antonio for the holiday, I cannot help but reflect on the difference between traveling alone in Central this Spring and getting around this part of the world today. At 6 AM, my friend Eduardo picked me up at my home in San Juan and we headed for the frontera; thirteen hours of travel by car, two busses and a taxi and I expect to be seated at Las Gemeles on Manuel Antonio beach in time for a late dinner!
“Yo soy Nica ahora.” That means, “I’m Nicaraguan now!”
Well, not quite (yet). But, I feel at home in this part of the world. For two months this Spring I traveled from Nicaragua throughout Costa Rica. I didn’t know a lick of Spanish when I arrived on March 18th, yet within one week, you would have thought I at least had an elementary Spanish education in school. Today, I have officially been living in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua for 9 weeks. I have spent one-third of 2014 in Central America. I still haven’t taken a Spanish lesson, yet my Spanish gets better everyday (because I care). I can more than get by most anywhere and have full conversations with the people I love.
When I landed in Managua in March, I felt an immediate draw right out of the gate. If you have ever flown into Nicaragua, you know the area surrounding the airport is not particularly desirable. Yet, as soon as my feet touched the land, the energy of the country resonated through me. I am not here to party, though our fiestas are truly epic! I am not here for the surf, though our waves rival any in the world, and our lineup is a candy store of the most beautiful men I have ever laid eyes on. I am here because I love the culture, the people and the land. I am here because I wished for it and the Universe made it so.
A self-proclaimed orphan, I am overwhelmed with the closeness of the family unit in Central. A closeness extended to friends. Before I arrived here, I never quite felt right where I was. New York didn’t suit me at all and had I not been crippled by fear, I may have left much sooner. People don’t look up to greet one another when they walk in the streets and NYC life seems to perpetually revolve around a biweekly payday; a churning that never lets up. Never again will I subscribe to ten vacation days and two sick days per year; living for the weekend to drink away the stress of the week indoors at a bar? What a waste! South Florida was better; with room to bike, wake, surf and play on the beach, I reveled in the sunlight, learned to mountain bike and spear fish, fell for a man with rough hands I named Alligator Hands, with whom I contracted odd jobs in construction, used power tools, took my driving test in a pickup truck, cooked on a mega yacht, and first-mated a 78′ Marlow. There is nothing I cannot do and no opportunity I am closed off to.
I’d say I did South Florida right, I stayed off the strip in Miami and settled in beautiful Fort Lauderdale. More than NYC, FTL is the closest I have found to home in the States. Still, something wasn’t right. After two years, Florida didn’t feel like forever. If New Yorkers are consumed with money, South Floridians are consumed with appearances (even the “appearance” of money). I want more for my life than satisfaction over my reflection in the mirror and stockpiles of flammable paper in the bank. A simple life! I like my toys and my boys, and love is my only true wish. Today, many of my closest friends are native Nicaraguan and Costa Rican. When I’m sick, they are the first to call, when I need a ride or a hand or a shoulder, mi nuevos amigos show up unannounced at my door. I feel blessed to be adopted into such a beautiful culture. Now, I will spend Christmas in Costa Rica, where my friends are my family.
I am home for the holidays!
Together in Health! In Love! And in Life!
xob
BODY BY BIANCA 