Last River Bath

“In a moral point of view,” the effect of traveling, “ought to be to teach him good-humored patience, freedom from selfishness, the habit of acting for himself, and of making the best of every thing,” Darwin wrote. “Or in other words contentment.”

“It’s an exhortation just as true today as it was in 1836. A journey—of any kind, whether a day trip to a local park or a year-long backpacking tour of the world—teaches contentment. It teaches the value of friendship, the kindness of strangers, the beauty of nature, and the exaggerated dangers of playing chicken with mining trucks on narrow roads. Traveling connects us to the world and renews our capacity to wonder.” —from “Darwin Slept Here”

Written March 24

It has been an interesting couple of days of mixed emotions towards El Yunque. Alex and I have both gone through a few days of stomach cramps and nausea that at its start ruined my mood completely. By late morning I was telling Alex I wanted to leave the next day. Of course he rationalized that maybe our health is making it hard to think straight.

I know now that was the problem, but at the time I didn’t care. I wanted to give El Yunque a chance, but compromising my happiness for even a week sounded unfair.

I told myself, I paid the money to come down here, why should I waste my time and energy not being happy?

Today is a little different. My stomach feels a lot better (or right now at least), and my mood has been mostly positive today. It could be from not washing our dishes properly, using the water to brush our teeth or eating a bad grapefruit. I’m not quite sure. But after two days of feeling sick, I feel like I’m getting back to normal.

It’s Sunday today and the weather is exactly what we could hope for on our day off. I just finished bathing in the cold river. I’m sitting on my towel on a warm rock. And I’m letting the hot sun dry my body and hair.

For the past three weeks, Alex and I have been doing our laundry and baths in a part of the river that’s completely shaded from the sun, a private cove of knee high water and little rocky waterfalls everywhere. This weekend though, we took a short walk more traveled by the community.

At the bottom of a much less technical hike runs deeper, swimmable waters and boulders much like the one I’m sitting on now to lay out and bask in the open sun.

It’s a cloudless sky today, and light reflects on abalone water of deep turquoise, moss green and brown. The pebbles glint like clay jewels in the shallow parts. Whoever thought the name Sunday clearly had a day like today in mind.

We share the hole with the older woman who owns the town pulperia (corner store). While she washes clothes, what looks like four of her grandsons cannonball in the deep end and splash in the shallow ends. Like me, my cabin mates hang out on boulders and write, listen to music or read.

It’s an interesting scene mixed with 12- to 13-year-old boys gawking at foreigners in their bathing suits and 6-year-olds not paying any attention at all. Many of the children in San Antonio de Upa have never seen a white person in their lives.

Despite the good weather and the relaxing afternoon at the river, my intentions to leave the farm have not changed. We plan on leaving for Matagalpa next Saturday in time for Easter in the city. After couple days there, we are off to explore. We are starting with one night in Jinotega and a couple nights in Esteli. Both are mountain towns, but it is a gradual move towards the west coast and a definite temperature change of hotter days and nights. We’re excited to drop the weight of sweatshirts and pants. And we’re excited for a change of scenery.