It was a strange but necessary day for yeses or noes, nods and shaking of heads because there was a stillness between the absence of sounds and the presence of thoughts. Nobody, no, nothing, had talked much since the ferry took us away from Rivas to Isla de Ometepe in Nicaragua.
Even before the boat trip, and the alternating jabs of silence and careful words on the Rivas bus that we took for Ometepe, certain thoughts had already been swirling in my mind: getting back to Costa Rica in the morning of Easter Sunday, writing a poem while the sun toasts at some Nicaraguan shores, gallo pinto, books to read, observing other travelers, boring places, strange places, determining routes, my impulses and complacencies, silence and strangers.
But anything, or anybody, whose careless prying interferes with civility or indifference, as the case may be, will always understand that this accidental marriage of absence and presence is necessary, and unavoidable, because there are compromises to be made and persistent thoughts to be subdued.
But if everything is silence that always pulls towards us the shapes of things needed to be understood --- like the strangeness of circumstances or thoughts that are difficult to be expressed --- where will we go while we observe things as they silently move closer to us without comprehensible reasons?
--An excerpt from "Some Bearable Strangeness", my Holy Week journey to Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua in 2005.
Where is Ometepe?