hong kong in central america

there is something so crazy huge/expansive about the skyline here. it is vast like new york, but not that jam packed. it is unreal. it extends beyond buildings, to the ocean(s).

everything is under construction. traffic is the worst i have ever seen. there are no rules.

howler monkeys travel in competing packs and yell at each other while i stand on a rainforest island and drink water with 2 politically incorrect old people from florida, a french diplomat named gilles, and a former big bend park ranger and native panamanian named ian who is the second person in less than a week to tell me i should have studied plants.

i stand on a manmade causeway and walk in circles. the wind blows hard and everything is en español. i feel what it means to be painfully bilingual in the wrong language. i try to speak french to spanish people.

i am told i should write a book. i eat sancocho and my whole body hurts. i look for tiny ticks in my socks. when i lay down, i am in a second world country (not third, i am not kidding myself). when i wake up, i am in paradise.

it's been a weird couple of weeks.