the ocean says hello

Dear Adele,

Greetings from Nicaragua.

I’ve come here to feel, vision, plan, pray,

workout, swim, hammock sway

listen deeply, wish truely

be and breathe and be

Today is my third day here.

I’ve rented a ridiculously large beach house in a community called Poneloya. The whole thing costs less money than my room in a shared apartment in Toronto. It's cracked and crumbling and quirky and I adore it.

Let me show you around.

This is the front wall on the street. A former tenant made this mural with many of the kids who live in town. She and other tenants have made more murals inside - you’ll see that soon.

Then you enter through a gate to this front yard with flowers.

It has five bedrooms, all quite unique. I choose the smallest one, I guess because in such a large place it felt the most intimate. Here is my funky door and bedroom furniture. Oh and this is Ferno. He and his pal (whose name I forget) came with the house. (She doesn't appear in any photos as she is shy.)

The house has a grand court yard with several hammocks (you can see Ferno again) and cosy sitting circles ready for guests, as I find them. I’ve heard of two Spanish people who wish to join me towards the end of the month. Maybe I’ll post an ad online or wander over to the Spanish language school 2 km down the beach and see if anyone there wants to visit for a while. Just at the moment though I am enjoying the peace and quiet here.

Here are a few more murals from the kitchen door and some bathroom doors.

To tone the hippiness of the place down the owners have painted over some of the murals and random acts of poetry that were sprawled on the walls. Much of it peeks through. I wonder what it says. This one holds mystery. Can you still see it?

This is my favourite hammock spot to be and look out at the horizon. Ok now I'm just making Ferno pose and he is obliging.

From here it opens up into my backyard which, well, is just a skip to the ocean. The sand is so hot here you can apparently fry an egg on it. I’m going to try one day and make a video of it.

Do you like my personal palm trees?

A neighbour boy climbed up one of my palm trees the other day to fetch me and the neighbourhood kids some coconuts. He just shimmied right up and tossed them down. Then he chopped them open for us. First making a hole so we could drink the milk then slashing them in half so we could scrap out the sweet white with our teeth and fingers. His friends told me he would please like to be my boyfriend. He is seventeen, though tried to pass himself as twenty. How old am I, I asked. Twenty-three, Twenty-five, Twenty-eight came the guesses. (Ah the generosity of children.) MUCH older, I explained. Too old for a seventeen year old boyfriend. Sorry.

Here he is in my neighbour Stephanie’s tree. Can you see him high up there?

This is Stephanie and her little brother.

Stephanie is my friend. We like to swim together. Stephanie rides the waves like an old cowboy. Today on the beach she found a crab. We made art together. She added the shells with holes at the end like eyes on a sand creature.

This is no timid ocean. The undertow yanks a person to and fro and down and over again. Luckily the waves roll in on a sand bank that is remarkably shallow for a long long way. So if you feel too tossed about you just stand up and the water sloshes past your knees. It is so kinetic, so alive. Intensely white foam scouring black sand. I couldn’t have crafted a better beach if I’d set my imagination to it. It’s perfect for me. My beach.

Salt is an old remedy to cleanse energy in many ancient cultures. (I used to sprinkle salt around the LTTA office but don’t tell :) People use it to cleanse items of energy like crystals or to create sacred space. Perhaps this salty ocean will work on me too.

Sending you a breath of salty ocean air,

Nicole

P.S.

(What do you think of the hat?)