Observations

Thankfully, we’re more or less settled in now. We’re set to start lessons on the bike this afternoon, so hopefully that’ll go well and shortly we will have wheels, freedom, and the wind in our hair. It’s a bit of a pain to get around exclusively by taxi, and both of us are looking forward to an easier commute to a functioning internet.

And now here, in no particular order, are a series of observations I have made of life in Providencia:

1. The instructions on gmail have now switched into Spanish without my guidance. I now know that “Acceder” means “Sign In.”
2. The seafood here is (unsurprisingly) fantastic. So far on menus I’ve only seen various kinds of seafood and then chicken, so it’s clearly the primary food on the island. At the place we go for lunch every day (a restaurant on the beach called El Divino Niño with a pink statue of a baby Jesus in front), we often see people carrying handfuls of fresh lobster or fish from a little boat to the kitchen, so it’s obviously fresh. If we order the mixed plate for two, we get: two whole fish; a lobster; calamari; crab; coconut rice; tomatoes; and patacon (smashed, fried plantains). It’s pretty fantastic. We could also get shrimp or conch. And Silvia particularly enjoys the vinegar garlic-chili sauce we use to flavor everything.
3. I had never seen crab roadkill until we got here. It’s understandable, seeing as there are crabs everywhere. When you walk along the side of the road, you here tens of them scurrying away as you approach, especially at night or after it rains. Unfortunately we missed the crab migration season, when they close the roads and thousands of them migrate from the mountains to the sea to lay their eggs, but there seem to be a lot as is.
4. There are a lot of mosquitoes and other insects. You learn that “itchy” is really just a state of mind. I recognize that I itch, but I choose not to be “itchy.” It’s all in how you think about it.
5. Heavy rainstorms blow up out of nowhere, last forty seconds, and then disappear.
6. My sense of time and urgency is much reduced from before.
7. It’s an interesting experience, being this disconnected. We still check the internet once a day, but we only really use it for essential stuff, and I know that for most of the day I am utterly inaccessible, and even more important, that it doesn’t really matter. It takes some getting used to, but it’s kind of wonderful. Not quite life-changing, but enjoyable all the same.
8. In the same vein, I am fascinated by what it would be like to live here, and particularly to grow up here, with a worldview that is unfettered and uncluttered. The primary pastime here seems to draw a fine line between hanging out and doing nothing. People sit on the side of the road, talk, listen to reggae, dance, and maybe play dominoes. How different is it from seeing movies in theaters, taking the subway to friends, and going to concerts? I’m not sure; sophistication (in its many meanings), maybe? Perhaps its just because I’m here for such clearly defined objectives, but I have a hard time imagining not moving towards something.
9. I can’t get over how beautiful the water is. Crystal clear and brilliant, multifaceted blue.
10. It’s hot. And humid. Thankfully it’s easy to go swimming.
11. Following that, the showers are only cool, because the main source of water is rainwater (and who has a heater on this island?), but it’s really great. It would be counterproductive to have a really hot shower here.
12. The people are very friendly and helpful.
13. There’s something nice about not being able to choose the movies you watch. You get an interesting assortment of films you wouldn’t see otherwise.
14. Pola ran away again last night, but we found her. Cats run away a lot.
15. Because everybody uses motorcycles to get around here, you get a really odd cross-section of people you wouldn’t expect to see on them. The oddest one yet was the two preteens coming back from school, followed by two women driving next to each other so they could gossip between motorcycles.
16. Life here is nice.