Irony

Last night, in the dark buzz of this wild place, I heard a distant drum circle echoing off the Lake Arenal. I lived in San Francisco for years and there would be a drum circle every day at Golden Gate park on "hippie hill". This never really appealed to me because it just reminded me of 20-something upper-middle class street urchins who don't want to get a job and spend other peoples' money getting high and getting tatoos and piercings just to spend another day peddling, getting high and being annoying, then going home to their Upper Haight Street apartment that costs $3000, a price tag I could never afford on my hard-earned budget. You can see I am a bit biased, and I'll accept that.

But in the dark of night, with a buzz of insects, bird chirps and howler monkeys, sitting in a remote house in solitude, knowing it will be a 2 hour walk over rocky dirt roads just to get to the nearest "town", hearing the beat of drums across a placid lake is surreal. I wonder who they are and what they're doing while they're beating their drums. Are they just getting high? Is there a ceremony? Is there a Shaman? Is there any healing power to it? And how could I be included? I don't see lights, I just hear the sound. I'm so curious because it's the second time I've heard the drums, and hearing something I cannot see, of course peaks my interest. I have no kayak, no boat. Since Lake Arenal is filled with alligators, my teaspoon of cleansing is untouchable. How ironic.