Solo cabras comen la ropa

Here I am, back in San José. I fly out the day after tomorrow, back to home (wherever that may be), back to reality, back to my future. It's all there waiting for me, more or less as I left it. I'm not sure if I'm actually any closer to any conclusions, any plans, but I've had an amazing trip so that must count for something. Although everything is nearly the same as I left it, this return (homecoming?) is entirely different from last time. I feel a sense of... I'm not quite sure. It certainly isn't panic and dread, what I felt about 7 months ago when I returned from Spain. That recently? That long ago? I feel optimistic about my future and the plans I've sewn together while I've been here (near the top of Chirripó, precisely) and I'm excited to continue my life in Seattle. I miss my family and friends and dog a lot. I'm looking forward to sleeping in the same bed for more than 3 nights in a row, having hot water more than once every few weeks, being free of insect bites, having more than 4 shirts, privacy! But I'm going to miss so many things, specific to Central American and more generally about travel. Trying new food (weird meat), seeing amazing new things each day, learning, sharing a common bond with everyone at every hostal, challenging myself, living quite simply, riding chicken buses, having only three valuables (camera, wallet, passport), having all my possessions in a backpack.

Two days ago the inevitable happened. Something that Emily and I have been joking about for the past several weeks. My money and credit card were stolen from my locked bag (Emily's too). We had been saying that if our money/credit cards were stolen at this point it wouldn't be so bad because we had so little time left and getting wired money one time wouldn't be too bad. And it happened. Although the guy--who I even had a conversation with in the hostal room--did see fit to leave my debit card and several smaller colones bills. Nor did he steal the passports in the same pocket of my bag. I can't be sure if he was being somewhat kind in this regard or really had no need for my debit card (although he took Emily's), passport or colones of small denominations. It's also a huge mystery as to how: the bag was locked and everything looked normal. At any rate. I had to the cancel the card in the middle of an internet cafe with a terrible connection and two children running around me, yelling. Afterwards, our friend Chris who we met on Ometepe bought us dinner and all was fine.

Besides the petty theft, I enjoyed San Juan del Sur. In fact, in spite of the theft, and that the water was turned off for the entire city for over 24 hours. No showers, no toilet, nothing. Apparently it's common to lose water for several hours at a time. I spent an amazing day at a beach north of the city, Playa Maderas with Emily and three people we met on Ometepe. It was basically deserted, white sand, blue water, no trash. The best beach day to end a trip filled with awesome beach days. A beautiful sunset, with only the neon pink sun in the sky, slowly descending past the horizon. (No green flash, unfortunately.) It was eerie, the flaming sun alone in the sky; I've never seen a sunset like the ones in San Juan del Sur.

I've already begun planning my next trip: 3 months (or more) in Mexico and Guatemala, with a one-way ticket to Guatemala and then heading north. I'm fairly certain no one reading this is very thrilled to hear this. Clearly, it's just a fantasy. But how incredible would that be? I'm finding that I need to have a future trip in mind (even as I'm not quite finished with my current one). It helps me feel free. It's helping me go home because I know I can do this again in the future. Traveling in Latin America is so cheap and not frightening (as I had previously thought). Everyone I've met here who went to Mexico absolutely loved it. Anyway. This thought, this fantasy, may help me go through with my plans for the immediate future. I will have time for more travel. I will be able to afford it. I will never be trapped in a life that I hate, so trapped that I can't get away and go to Mexico. I am excited to come home and move on in my life knowing that this will not be my last adventure.