First Night in Ometepe, Nicaragua

It’s barely 8pm, but here I am, laying in bed trying to sleep. I’m covered in sweat, occasionally being bitten by unidentified insects. The air, so thick with heat, makes it challenging to breath.

My bed for the night is in a guestroom in the back of a typical family home in Moyogalpa, Nicaragua. This tiny town sits on the west side of an island formed by two volcanos in the Lake of Nicaragua. The island is called Ometepe, which in Nahuatl means  “Two Mountains”.

• 

I’m in bed at this time because there is nothing much going on in this small town on a Monday night.  My room is pretty simple, a bed, a small fan, and a bathroom. Laying here, I mentally struggle with discomfort. I realize sleeping will not be easy for me.

Spoiled by many modern amenities,  I find myself a bit annoyed. As the fan blows the warm air around my room, giving me slight relief, I continue to wonder how this environment will ever be comfortable. It’s about this time the power goes out. My fan, the last bit of luxury I had, turns off.

My phone illuminates to signal it is no longer charging, and with it, the few lights outside the tiny grouping of houses go out. I instantly revisit my thoughts of loathing. Lamenting  for not appreciating the fan.

It doesn’t take many moments for the air to thicken more and the sweat to feel like a shower. I have to leave this room. I put on some cloths and sit in the chair outside my door in the small courtyard. The night air is by no means cool, but it is a refreshing shift.
With the power out, the buzz and hum of electronics, is replaced with the sounds of stray dogs howling in the streets. I look up to the sky. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I start to see stars. But then I see more stars. And more. Before I know it, the sky is shinning with millions of sparkly dots.

I take a moment to be grateful for where I am. I try to acknowledge my momentary lapse of reason around a slight struggle many people accept as a normal life. Problems that provide no solutions other than waiting for your situation to improve or at least normalize. After almost an hour of watching these stars and thanking the universe for the many gifts I’ve been given, I reluctantly decide to go lay back down in my hot room.

Before I can take off my cloths, the heat fills my nose and the sweet washes over me again. I lay down with the sheet far removed. I thank the bed, the pillow, and my host for providing me with what I have at this moment. Closing my eyes, I try to sleep. Still very uncomfortable. I open my eyes one last time.  As if to thank the powerless fan, idling in the corner. And as if on cue, I hear a click and a small light in the distance shines from my window.

The fan starts revving back up. I’m greeted with the most refreshing air. I chuckle to myself, realizing that it’s not any better than it was before.  Yet, my awareness of the little things was a little stronger. I know, I’m thankful for my fan now.

My adventure was inspired by the realization that I didn’t need most of the things which I had, nor I thought I needed. Many items, kept for their own essentialness over the year, only to become lost, broken, stolen, or forgotten. I keep revisiting this idea of working with less in many abstract ways. Be it fewer things, people, time, or energy. In all contexts, the concept returns over and over.

I’ve gotten to see a way of life that on paper would sound terrible to many people. Requiring the fortiture of many amenities most require for a comfortable life. But as I’m learning, the things we keep aren’t as valuable as the things we’re able to give up.

I have to stop myself from being in a hurry. Bad habits of the past. Learning more that struggle can be enjoyed as a time to count the important things that are there.  At least while we still have them.