Leaving Las Lajas: Part 2
Las Lajas, Panama, March 8, 2003
The next morning I wake up in the jungle. This is truly the jungle. Everything is incredibly green. Mountains and sharp rising hills line the side of the road. The ocean is bluer and the air seems fresher. The forest is teeming with all kinds of exotic, beautiful birds and butterflies. This is the southern Pacific coast of Costa Rica. I am amazed at how the landscape changes within just a few short hours. Apparently there is also a giant, 3 inch, monster fly with transparent wings that makes a constant high pitched shrilling sound that I keep hearing but have not seen.
 It
is early morning and I am anxious to be on my way. There
are no buses so I walk for hours along the road through
the ever-changing landscape. Lots of cars go by but
no one stops. Was this a mistake to hitch in Costa Rica?
Most of the cars are brand new and very expensive with
only one or two occupants. I take out my mandolin to
past the time. Walking, playing and singing gospel tunes,
hoping someone will hear, stop and give me a ride. I
have no such luck. The morning sun is slowly rising
higher in the sky. I am getting hot and thirsty and
I do not have any water. I catch myself criticizing
rich people for their lack of compassion and fear of
the unknown.
It seems that synchronicity has left me. Am I forgetting
something? Then it dawns on me. I have been so concerned
with getting from point A to point B that my focus has
been clouded. I have been intent on arriving and not
allowing the journey to flow. I have been looking for
someone to blame for my lack of insight. I quickly take
out my pen and writing pad and scribble furiously as
3 more cars pass. Finally my sign is finished and I
proudly wave it at the next car. It succinctly reads
"CANADA". Now passing motorists know something about
me. 2 cars later I get a ride from Eric in an old, beat
up jeep. He is going to San Isidro which is one of the
coffee capitals of Costa Rica, high in the coastal mountains.
I know this is simple but the point is, when we fixate
on end results we can not see all the small, precious
moments that make up the day.
From Dominical to San Isidro the road turns inland
and serpentines continuously upwards through the mountains.
At every bend the land drops away into vast sweeping
valleys filled with billowy, low forming clouds. A giant
Iguana skittles across the pavement in a frenzy of scraping
claws and slashing tail with head held high. A raccoon
ambles off into the thick and protective undergrowth.
The Costa Rican saying "Pura Vida" (enough life), is
strongly intact here.
The road is so twisty and narrow that at times we are barely creeping around the curves. We are perpetually rounding to the left and then rounding to the right. My arm is getting sore from hitting the door and it is not much of a door. I can see daylight through the hinges. I comment to Peter that this is one of the worst roads I have been on. "What do you mean? This is a beautiful road" he states with friendly sincerity. I realize I am still intent on getting there. Another even larger Iguana scurries across the road. I try to take a picture but there is too much motion blur. Then the camera battery goes dead.
The next 2 days are fraught with little annoyances like this. I have been
travelling for almost 5 months now and have rarely had
a bad day. I try to focus on the moment but negative
thoughts keep invading my peace of mind. I try to focus
on the journey and not on the arrival but it is not
working. I realize I need to go deeper within myself
for the answer. What I discover is no surprise and no
comfort to my already failing confidence.
Previous entry:
Leaving Las Lajas:
Part 1
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