Hello world. It’s 7:20am Sunday morning. I have been awake since the crack of dawn at quarter to six this morning, and just finished a breakfast of organic gluten-free chocolate coconut cookies. While I was eating the cookies in the kitchen however, the neighbour dog came and pissed on my stool/laptop holder next to the hammock.
Last night, having been upset, Cena made me a delicious rum and guanabana cocktail to somewhat lift my spirits, however we were almost out of rum. So she borrowed Pancho’s (another neighbour) bike to make a quick trip to El Toro to buy us a bottle of rum (unlike the “quick trip” described in her blog). Not 5 minutes down the road on the way home, the bottle swung down from her arm, clinking the edge of the metal frame, breaking the bottom almost clean off the bottle of 7 year aged Flor de Caña rum.
Earlier yesterday morning, we were at work helping out with a community development project led by the Center, given to us by the local firefighters, to paint all the cement posts along the highway between Chilamate and the Center. While most of the group of 23 teenagers from Lincoln Academy, Maine were busy on that, I was supervising 8 boys and translating between them and Fernando, a non-communicative local sustainable farmer who was helping us build a greenhouse for our reforestation work. This was not easy work as Fernando didn’t speak any English and the boys, aside from Pancho of course thankfully, no Spanish. However even when Fernando did speak and give clear directions for me to translate, he spoke in Tico Spanish, a combination of Tico slang, mumbling, and regular Spanish thrown in. Not to mention the actual greenhouse construction work wasn’t any easier with 12 holes to be dug 1 and a half feet deep each in to the ground for posts. Digging in to forest ground containing rocks 2 square feet in size, giant tree roots, and a cement pad covering 2 of the holes. Dug with only shovels, machetes, and something resembling a giant spade/ice pick they used to break the cement and dislodge giant rocks. So no one complained as an extra guy everyone assumed was there with someone else floated in to the work site, picked up a shovel, and started breaking through cement. No one barely noticed either when the same guy floated out just as unnoticed as he had come in. As it turns out, no one even knew his name. It wasn’t until an hour or so later that we realized my iPhone had gone missing from my bag. Everyone else having been hard at work and accounted for, it likely left with him.
So this makes 3 right? 3 events of misfortune in a short time frame. The curse should now be lifted? Isn’t that how this works? I/we can now move on with my/our life without fear of further repercussions?
Granted losing my iPhone, the one thing I still own that has, or rather had, any real value (other than my computer), my one (expensive) magic multi-tool for dealing with the developing world and rough situations while traveling and living abroad, does make losing a bottle of special 7 year aged rum for which we had to borrow a bike to ride uphill 3km and writing out of our only comfortable place now filled with the stench of dog urine seem like frivolous inconsequential inconveniences.
I realized that since I left Canada to go to Belgium how many years ago, I have always had my iPod Touch, then my iPhone as of November 2 years ago. I have never had to battle Latin America or Europe without it. Until now. I really took everything the iPhone did for me for granted.
All of a sudden I have no alarm clock, no maps, no flashlight, no thermometer, no recording device, no small camera, no small video recorder, no small notepad, no board games, no photo editing software, no travel guides, no mail containing flight info and travel insurance information, no photo souvenirs, no Spanish-English dictionary and verb conjugator, no English dictionary and thesaurus, no French-English translator, no articles and pre-updated newsfeeds, no bus schedule, no calculator, and not to mention no way to contact friends and family easily or instantly, music on the go, or access to google, email, banking, or Facebook at home.
This really puts in to question for me how it is that people managed to travel, work, and live abroad in foreign countries safely and easily before technology like this. Or do this lightly for that matter. It is extremely easy for us to pack enough stuff to last us weeks, and survive in almost any situation life down here might throw at us, in only two small backpacks. We felt perfectly confident in our ability to handle anything or any situation, and indeed we did. However, I realize now that this was all in very large thanks to my iPhone. Of course we could have and will survive just fine without it, but it will most definitely not be quite as easy.
Albeit not as convenient, it’s easy enough to find a replacement alarm clock, flashlight, camera, and notepad, even cell phone for some sort of contact with family and friends, but what about a map for any place at any time when you suddenly find yourself lost in a shady part of San Jose? Or a quick translator/dictionary when you find yourself struggling to communicate something essential. Or an international newsfeed in your language to keep abreast of any potential vital situation that might be happening in the country where you live or home country. I couldn’t even find a local Spanish newspaper here easily if I wanted to.
Without tools such as these you find yourself having to be all but completely reliant on the generosity and helpfulness of others, often times strangers. I feel like this may have been easier before tight communities somewhat disintegrated, placing instead a higher value on being self-reliant. Back when everyone used the system of ask a friend, write down directions, own a travel phrase book, bought news papers and/or pre-discussed a central meeting point before going out or doing anything. Back not long ago when people actually owned flashlights, alarm clocks, and weather predicting devises. When they carried a notepad and pen, and bought maps. I remember when my car had at least 3 or 4 different maps in it. If I had to buy a map today, I wouldn’t have the first clue where to find one.
All this to say, I think our reliance on technology has perhaps crossed that undetectable line.
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