Feeling the effect of the past three days and nights; I quietly and slowly contemplate how to recover my mind and body before engaging in any more research.
When you travel alone, you can be whomever you want to be. It’s frighteningly simple to camouflage oneself and shape the perception that others have of you. It’s not so much lying as it is disappearing for a little while. If you’re humble when you speak; calm in tone and action; the mortals gravitate toward your well masked yet truly emaciated self control.
The self-control and balance were hard fought and hard earned. It’s perception really; as perception is reality. Our reality is whatever we choose to perceive it to be; mixed with choice, consequence and chance. The truth is that I have no idea how the others perceive me; I simply exist.
The people here have so much less than we do; but they seem happy. As we rode through the North Coast yesterday on the way to the island; we saw life; life in the Dominican Republic. Simple and poor; without all of the affluence and luxury that we Americans, Europeans and Canadians expect. It doesn’t seem that bad, actually. It seems like a nice place to live. Not in the cities of course; but in the mountains. An ex-pat on a middle-class pension could live out their years as a king; as a God; in the rolling green mountains of this beautiful country.
My face hurts as the pockets below my eyes are bruised, bloodshot, and sunburned.
Was it worth it?
Sure it was. It’s almost always worth it.