Costa Rica 6, Eleventh Day In Monteverde

This morning an American family from Tallahassee, Florida came in late for breakfast. I would have thought they were Canadians, they were so polite and quiet. And they didn't sound like they were from the South. Perhaps they moved there from elsewhere in the US. So much for stereotypes. They didn't seem like Republicans, but who only knows, and it seems that everyone from the US (Dump supporters, anyway) is leaving their Make American Great Again T-shirts and baseball caps at home where they belong. And by the same token, I am not even mentioning the T word while I am here, neither am I going to judge anyone for having voted for him. I just think that human beings are more nuanced than their voting preferences, or I'd like to believe this, anyway, This is likely the reason why I almost never participate in social or political activism anymore. I just got really burnt-out coping with the black and white thinking of the radical left, every bit as black and white as the far right, just different arrangements. Though my political and social values, for the most part, are more aligned with the so-called left, I really think that people are a lot more complex and nuanced, and sometimes are much nicer, than their political values would imply. I did another walk on the side road where the morphos are, and again I was not disappointed. One brilliant blue giant butterfly to greet me on the way down and another to say goodbye on my way up. Then, by the road, I saw an armadillo. He at first tried to get away from me, but when I spoke to him gently, he stopped for a bit, and seemed pretty chill around me, standing just three feet away. I stopped in a coffee shop and had a nice chat in Spabish and English with the two staff there. One of them wants to go to Vancouver. I warned her, as I warn everyone here that if they do go, to make sure they bring lots of money with them. It is kind of pathetic that this is the first thing that comes out of my mouth whenever I want to talk about my fair city. I walked as far as the mall on the edge of Santa Elena, then halfway or further back on the way to Mariposa I stopped in Tramanti, the fancy Italian restaurant, where on the patio in the back I got into a lengthy conversation with 1. An American family (younger grandparents with their fourteen and eleven or twelve year old grandsons visiting from Des Moines, Idaho, 2. the waitress, who remembered me from the cloud forest reserve last year, 3. her boss, and 4. one of the waiters. The waitress wanted me to show her boss my sketchbook, and they both appeared really interested in my art, as did the American family. So, I was talking a lot of Spanish and a lot of English, and eventually I did get around to eating. I have never felt so welcome in a different community, and this all seems to correspond with that mystical experience I had the Sunday before when I was looking at the mountains and they seemed to be drawing close to me in order to welcome me here. I am sure now that God is opening a door for me here in Monteverde. It is still opening, and it will likely take a while before I can understand what I am doing here, but in the meantime, I am enjoying the journey.