The Character of Places

Random movie observation of the day: the face-grabbing gesture that John Travolta’s family makes in Face/Off to indicate affection is extremely odd. There’s obviously some symbolism intended, but it gets totally lost behind how weird that motion is.

Unfortunately we haven’t managed to get a hold of a scooter yet. It keeps raining, which prevents us from learning how to drive because the field where we’re learning is too muddy to do anything in. And the guy who’s teaching us wants us to drive a few more times around the field before we go out on the roads (irritating to us because we have to wait, but in principle I can’t really argue with him). In the meantime we’re hoping for a stretch of dry weather…

The other night Silvia and I went for a walk on the beach. It was close to a full moon, and although the clouds obscured it most of the time, water was still startlingly lucid and clear in what light there was. Shadows on the sand turned into clusters of crabs and scurried away at our approach. We waded across the entrance to the mangrove forest (? swamp? whatever it’s called) to the bar of a guy who had been accosting us to come have a drink for days now. We sat there on the beach, sipping our “coco-locos” (less good than they sound), almost entirely alone except for the lights and the reggae music from the bar. It was a Saturday night, and although we were told the party had dispersed only because of the rain earlier, imagining the solitude of the moment as all-encompassing was effortless. It’s a common theme for me here so far, so posit living here and the life that would be. (Oh wait, I am living here. But in truth it’s still temporary.)

I love trying to discern the character of different places. It’s easiest with cities, particularly big ones, both because they come loaded with myth and preconceptions, and the sheer intensity of the experience makes its personality that much easier to ascertain. It’s also interesting that it’s a character that exists in conjunction with but not necessarily because of the people who live there. Such a character can be complex and difficult to articulate, and is perhaps as much my creation than anything intrinsic to the place itself. But whether arising from the perceiver or the object itself, it’s a personality that reveals itself quickly but deepens and grows richer the longer I spend there. New York is full, diverse, and rich; Berlin is young, vital and determined; Paris is French.

So what is Providencia? It’s remote, a bit run-down, friendly, and idyllic, but even together those seem to miss the pulse of life here. With only two weeks on the island it’s hard to pin it down exactly, and its diffuseness makes it that much harder. But that in itself is striking, that there’s no imposition on my sense of rhythm, just a suggestion and a strong inclination towards moving a little bit slower and lazier. Except for getting used to different accommodations, transportation, etc. (although that was a bit more of a transition than I anticipated), I feel comfortable sticking to my own objectives to a surprising degree. Moving anywhere new and doing your best to truly live there rather than just be a tourist always involves a negotiation between individuality and adaptation; residents of a place always remain independent to a certain degree, nonchalance being a necessary component of cosmopolitanism. But when you grow up in a place you can almost always choose to breathe its rhythms, and going somewhere new requires a conscious acknowledgement of what otherwise is near-instinct.

So what does all this say about Providencia? Just that since most of my traveling has been to cities, I expected to be struck over the head. Instead, I am finding that acclimation here means dialing back rather than ramping up, relaxing into new rhythms instead of trying to force myself into lockstep. It’s odd also, because I am largely isolated from people I know. In a way it’s wonderful to have the freedom and time for pretty much anything, but you also are reminded just how much other people factor into the idea of motivation in the first place. So that to me, living here for several months, as I am, seems feasible and enjoyable, and I am excited at the prospect. But really living here? I still have to figure out exactly what that would mean.