Hiding in Puerto
Trip Start
Aug 08, 2008
1
9
17
Trip End
Ongoing
Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca,
Mexico
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Been a quiet couple of days here. At first I was concerned with my lack of activity ("Am I sick? Unhappy? Going back into isolation-mode? Should I leave?"), but Iīve sort of realized that doing nothing is what people, in fact, pay a lot of money to come to Puerto and do ...and so, Iīve relaxed a bit... or am trying to.
Also, I realized that Iīm nursing a bit of a broken heart. Itīs completely embarrassing- like crushing on the most beautiful girl in school, the one everyone likes- but I fell in love with Zipolite.
Maybe itīs the Arizona in me, Iīve never really "got" the ocean, even when I had an opportunity to live next to it through Peace Corps. I never understood why people seek out beaches for vacations or found them so relaxing- drinking yak milk in Mongolia, or eating chapati off newspaper in a Tanzania is so much more my style. I donīt like being hot, humid, sandy, and salty. I hate seafood. Iīm frightened of all the critters that I see brought out of the water (including, as I found out this week, the sea turtles that are so prevalent in this area. I donīt know what the heck the heck a turtle could do to me, but still...). I tried SCUBA diving and am the only person I know that hated it. Iīm just not an ocean person, or so I thought.
Zipolite. I canīt even explain. Some things about it were miserable- everything I own being wet for 3 straight days, boredom, etc.- but I felt so, so calm there. Physically, I felt disgusting (dirty, sweaty), but every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I saw myself glowing and couldnīt help but think, "wow, this life suits you." My headīs non-stop chatter had slowed and almost stopped by my last night on the beach, after an afternoon in the water letting strong tides and currents push and pull me. While at a Zipolite restaurant waiting for my pepper steak (ordered in a fit of nostalgia for one of my favorite meals at Msemo- the ocean-front restaurant in Mtwara), I looked around and, to my amazement, saw two other people eating alone. I felt happy. I wrote in my journal that I feel like I fit in in Zipolite- like I was among kindred spirits.
Itīs not the same thing in Puerto Escondido, but thatīs okay. There are tons of real-life surfers here, and not ever having met one face-to-face, Iīm a little awestruck. Iīve kept mostly to myself- reading, swimming in the hotelīs pool (the beach Iīm closest to is very dangerous for swimming), catching up on internet stuff, cooking every possible combination of bread, eggs, and milk (my hotel room has a kitchen).
Last night I went out for a run, but first I had to search for something called the "andador" (concrete walkway), which I had read about in a guidebook. It took some wandering (the taxi driver kept insisting that was mispronouncing "adoquin," the name of the main tourist drag, and took me there instead), and when I found it, I quickly realized it was less than suitable for a run. There were tons of stairs and edges of the sometimes wet, slippery path overlooked pointy rocks in the ocean, so instead of running, I walked.
How to describe it? Walking on this path, crabs were scattering in front of me. Sometimes Iīd turn a corner and the tide would crash into the rocks and spray me with a salty mist. At one point I "whoa"ed outloud, overwhelmed by the awesome power in the ocean. The view was beautiful and the sun was setting. At the end of the path was a lighthouse, and when I reached it, I turned back towards town. It was beautiful. I was glad I had the opportunity for the walk- felt like I was almost lead down the path... like it was Godīs way of saying "hey, look at this."
My only regret, having given up on finding another place to run, is that Iīm going to have to do an hour on sand today. Brutal, but if I can survive this heat and humidity, Guadalajara in October will be a nice treat.
Think Iīm going back to Mexico City on Friday or Saturday. I want to be in the zocalo for the independence day celebration and hear the legendary el grito, "Viva Mexico!" It will be very, very crowded and crazy, but a once in a lifetime opportunity to be sure.
This is a private blog 
