Blinks Abroad

February 12th, 2018

I had a dream this morning that I was back in college, and that the vast majority of students had decided the organization was no good, to be replaced with a daily process in which you'd line up at a reception table, fill out forms for a while, grab a stack of other people's paper assignments to be completed by yourself, then move on to a new table with a big vat of lemon blueberry pudding and piles of plastic containers, at which point you'd ladle out some of the stuff (yes, on top of the writing assignments), grab some plastic, and write down how many portions for redistribution you were going to produce that day once the papers were written. And I felt guilty, because I wrote four, but took five containers, intending to secret away a scoop of sludge for myself.

I have no idea, really, but I was glad for having woken up, once I did. In fact, it's rather difficult not to feel serene and relieved on waking to my life, awash as it is these days in resplendent natural beauty and adventuresome delights. In part, I think it's Costa Rica itself --well, it and its marked differences from Buenos Aires, where a mere walk by the riverside could barely, and often not really, be had. There's also likely something to be said for the distance in years, in paradigm, and in practice from those college days, even if the real thing was a little less blatantly insane (it was certainly less puddinged). But those are reflections for another day. For now, there's wilderness, that space sufficiently unmolested by humans to make being one in it feel better.

blinks-1

Taking in the view after a thirty minute climb behind a rickety truck full of Nicaraguan date-palm-jacks.

blinks-2

The jungle path, as curated by some worthy, quiet folks on the mountaintop.

blinks-5

Hello from as close to Pepperland as probably exists.

blinks-3

Rounding a corner, an odd call was heard. I pointed the camera at the branches, oh hope beyond hope...

blinks-4

...of finally seeing a wild toucan, and there he was.

Once back, duty required that I journey on to Bogota, to be carouseled from a to b and back in a certain diplomatic chariot.

blinks-6

No such luxury on the way in, however. Boingo wifi presents: flight schedule eggog, Panama edition! No tiene precio, kay?

blinks-7

I don't know what kind of dental procedures require generators-cum-soft-serve apparatus, and I don't want to find out.

blinks-8

Colombia's coffee did not disappoint. Neither did the lulada, a sort of persimmon-ade.

blinks-9

Bogota's most beautiful building, the Farshad rug store. I was going to use it as misdirection for a game of 'guess where I am', but the thing was too true and good for such trickery.

blinks-10

This, for the record, was the most dangerous the city ever got.

blinks-11

For Dad, another piece of the Stanford diaspora.

And here our journey ends, brief interval between delicious propulsions. Until next time, may your papers be your own, and your pudding non-communal.

Leave a Reply