The Routine

The routine has finally set in. I wake up, crawl out of my king-sized bamboo swinging bed that's suspended by rope from the ceiling and draped in mosqito netting. I look around the floor to make sure I don't step on a cockroach, frog, lizard or tarantula, walk down the stairs and open the wide doors unto the pristine view of the sun rising over the hills to the East. I ignite the lanterns and candles and listen to the morning sounds. Most of my days are spent in silence and in thought. I grab my recorder and make up songs or just play some that already exist. Some songs are simply impossible to play because the recorder has a very limited range. Also, it is designed for a right-handed person and being left-handed poses a problem for the left pinky.

After my lesson, I go into town, charge the computer, my camera battery, the Vado, my two phones, and download movies. I buy some food and hitch a ride home (which people offer freely and it's very safe here during the day). The sun is hot but begins to set. I make some more food. Usually, the food I eat is canned, as there is no refrigeration and carrying ice to my house is a joke considering the 50 minute hike uphill, in addition to the trail on which I have to use a machete to pass. I hate to waste food, so I give my leftovers to Ella, my new black lab who actually belongs to the neighbors (but she stays with me every night). My laptop is charged just long enough to watch an episode of Bizarre Foods. It's the only entertainment of the day.

As I wind down, I blow out my lights, climb into bed, carefully placing the mosquito netting all around, and sleep for a solid 6 hours before starting my routine around 4 a.m. all over again.

Sunrise, sunset.

Sun is shining, the weather is sweet