Lost Notes and Expanations

There is this little corner of the world I have found somehow, found myself living the daily trials and successes one can live any where. This place however is unique in that it is my place.

This place if you type in San José, Costa Rica, into your Google Earth, is a narrow isthmus, a mountainous link between two vast continents; two continents of cultures, landscapes, music, hopes, dreams, and flavours; two worlds. One from the north is the one I know too well; the great North American dream; and it is very much apparent all around me, on this narrow link, that someone is spreading the word, the story of that dream.

Like missionaries of old, the story may not hold true for all, but there are many who have signed on the great freight train, some call progress, with the driving force of MTV. I wonder what the old continent to the south thinks of all this “Americanism”, so close to its northern shore. Only violent politics has preserved, thanks to Columbian opposition militias, the Darien gap, which may hold the tide back just long enough for others to tell a different tale.

Stories make the world. I forget that, sometimes, forget that my eyes do not tell me truths, that somewhere in between, some neurological impulse is interpreting this vista for me, building comprehension out of the mystery, and that this view is the tide of my world, all 29 years of it.

Too often, I think, I have taken this view for granted, unconsciously edited out those truths that I know, yet choose to ignore for the sake of comfort.