We don’t know of habits, but we do know of rhythm. All we see is beauty, all we seek is joy. Food for our senses. Our minds. To create. To be inspired. To share. And to whisper. Or to scream. To tell each other fairy tales. To live them. We dance with bears in the forest. Fight with invisible ninja-raccoons in the nights. Have tea parties with owls, squirrels and birds on the branches of an old tree. We sing quotes from songs and make them parts of our conversations. We find treasures in bins instead of trash.

We collect paint buckets from the streets and use them as wind shelters for our goodies on rooftops. Or as coolers for our beer cans. We build drums from empty juice bottles and pretend that sandwich ice cream boxes made of plastic are wine glasses. We are analog people in a digital world. We bass-hum. And sometimes we try to whistle at the same time. We copy the sounds of howling wolves and crying birds. We try to figure out what a bears kiss would feel like. Or that of a fish. Or of a turtle. We raccoon-sniff behind each others ears. And dance with each others shadows on the beach.

We create constantly changing and yet steady rhythms. We group-snuggle in bunk beds. We praise avocado and papaya. We squeeze as many of us as possible into our hula hoops. We tear flowers from cigarette filters that we pick from the streets. We have chewing-gum chew parties to produce glue. We see mandalas in the shadow of a tree. We make drawings in the sand. Use our fingers to write our names in the sky. And let the wind slowly erase them. We sing out aloud. We peel dry wood to find out what’s hidden underneath the crunchy crust. We spread spices over our meals as if they were fairy dust.

Our excitement for the little, the small, the tiny is contagious. Our enthusiasm mutual. We teach each other how to separate metal can tops from their bodies with our teeth. And make ashtrays shaped like flowers from them. We integrate chewing-gums that are stuck to the ceiling of our bunk beds into our bed design. We splash cups filled with water into each others faces out of a somewhat sneaky mood. We give our foreheads to one and another to think better. We dig and drag our feet through the sand to escape the burning heat on its surface. We walk down the stairs like Cinderella, just without shoes.

We turn around in circles only to feel dizzy in our heads for a while. We have sponge gatherings. We use scarfs as shelters to hide from the wind. We make up words like overwhelmption out of pure happiness. We create earrings from broken zipper pieces. We collect points for every single piece of rubbish that we find. And we win the game when we dunk them into the trash bin from afar. We make sand-spitting monsters from squashed green lime fruits.

We flatten our food and eat it in circles. We fruit-fish our pineapple from the same bowl with our lips. We create a piece of artwork from how we stir paint. We balance on the side of the pavement. Or the yellow line in the middle of the street. We witness how clouds swallow mountains by covering them with their shadows. And how the sun helps them escape darkness and brings them back into the light. We go on missions. Have quests and challenges. We embrace each other when we hug. Our happily ever after exists in each and every moment. With children’s eyes we see, with their hearts we feel, with their minds we discover. That’s what we do. This is where the children play. This is where we’re swept away. With the planet as our playground.

Sending you love from Casa Oro Eco Hostel, San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

{slightly edited repost from www.nomadjazzing.wordpress.com}

  1. ad libitum
    Nov 07, 2017

    Sounds like a piece of the paradise-puzzle!

    Reply