There are goats on the side of the road, the occasional caribou grazing on grass, mangy dogs who don't get out of the way for nothing, chickens and their babies, and the roosters who crow all day. Not just when the sun comes up. I'm not sure they sleep.
I wake up around 7am, feed the puppy, bring him upstairs and watch him go wild with puppy excitement.
I check my email, Facebook, all the regular stuff. Drink coffee, write, maybe exercise or think about exercising, but decide it's okay if I don't because I sweat a lot more in this humidity.
I started a meditation practice - trying to reprogram my brain. But this place has reprogrammed me too. I'm still a first world-er, but I wear shirts with holes in them, don't wash my hair everyday, don't put on makeup to go into town, wear flip flops like it's the only shoe available (kinda is), eat more rice than I've ever eaten before, keep track of time less. I don't feel the need to buy clothes every time I turn around and the tiny hole in my shirt doesn't mean I throw it out. Nobody else cares about that crap. Why should I?
I live among Natives, poor fisherman, mountain people, families who bathe in the ocean. But also among people from all over the world. Rich people, poor people, poor people who used to be rich, old drunks, young Canadian kids who live on their own (the dad went back to Canada - story still being investigated), military vets, "criminals," hippies, high rollers, outcasts. The list goes on.
Lots of characters and wild stories people on the outside might not believe. It's kind of like a tropical commune of crazy...but in the best way. If nothing else, it gives me plenty to write about, and I want to write about it more because it would be a shame for all these stories to go to waste.