Resourcefulness

Darwin once said that it is not the strongest organism that survives in the long term, but the one that is most adaptable to change. Adaptation is a necessity on this little vessel. Life is different here, and although we have much of the amenities of home, we are indeed cut of from the rest of the world. this sort of isolation requires a sort of Mickey Mouse resourcefulness. Say for instance prior to your departure you bought a pack of underwear and threw them in your back. Some time after arrival you pull them out and through a pair on only to find that they are a few sizes to big, as if you had some how stolen a pair of fat Albert’s briefs. Not back home the simple solution would be to go to your local friendly Walmart, but here, no Walmart and the only money you have is the 10,000 Leones in your pocket (that equals about $2 and 27 cents). So what do you do, well the simple answer involves a knife, two holes, and a piece of yo-yo string given to you by a friend. Adapt and survive. Oh and Thank you Noah your yo-yo has been more helpful to me than I could have ever imagined. 

A Shirt I Once Wore

Her eyes and skin, as dark and brown as the ground she treds upon. Her hair, black as night. Her face young, yet carved with the gaze of many more years. Her child clutched at her side, and her shirt, her shirt I once wore. This young thing, no older than 17, with her child glued to her hip was wearing a shirt from my own youth. It was a simple thing, but profound and piercing all the same. This young solider fighting for nothing more than the survival of herself and child, so desperate for help, had upon her my own outer layer, my own skin as it were. The same was she and I, yet I was here with such abundance that I was giving away free help, and she so beaten down, desperately begging for help. Hum, funny how tragic the fates of this world can be. 

Starlight Starbright

It’s strange looking up at the night sky. The one place you would think would be the same across the world, the one glimpse back home. The movies and novels play it out as if the night sky is the one great unifier of all mankind, but when I peer into that great void I look into a vary alien sky. Nothing is the same here. I look for a single, solitary group of stars that make up a faint reminder of home and I find none. All of the stars, instead of creating a grand tapestry of Greek myth, appear to be nothing but a random collage of dots, as if Jackson Pollock was in charge of creating the night sky. Not even the sun is the same. Sure its still bright and yellow, but is hues and aurora during the hours of its birth and death are none the same. Its vibrant hues and flare flicker with a beauty I have never before seen nor can I give the proper words to describe. No, when I look up at the sky for some sort of consolment I am only reminded that I sit upon foreign shores, staring at foreign skys, and I and quite content with that. 

As I Leave

            Dear god,

I ask that you watch over all those I leave behind. All those I hold dearest to my heart. All those who have touched my life and my sol in such deep a profound ways. Watch over them as you have for me all these year. For if it is that you are to return me to this land once again I certainly wish for them to be well. For if it were not for them this land would not be called home.