sueño atrapar

Puerto Lopez is a lost little village from a place in my dreams. It´s a small fishing town and I have no idea how I ended up here, but I did and it is exactly the kind of place where one doesn´t question the status quo. The two industries here are fishing and a smidge of tourism. A small fleet of dilapidated boats ventures out into the sea each morning, going only a few dozen meters and usually powered by the plunge of a pescadero´s, or fisherman´s, pole into the muddy ocean plain.

The hostal where I´m staying is called Monte Libano and it´s right on the beach. Frente la playa. A Swiss woman named Sabrina and a Ecuadorian gentleman named Jadin are the owners of the place, and they are amazing hosts. Last night, I went to the local mercado (market) with Jadin and bought fresh produce and camarónes (shrimp) and together we made salad and papas fritas (fries) con camarónes. Everything is daily fresh here and the market is a wonderful festival of theatrical haggling and vivid colors and smells.

Notice the dream catchers, or sueño atrapar. There is some sort of indelible link between this place and Juneau, maybe it´s the fishing thing, but when I saw the dream catchers a wave of feeling sort of like deja vu hit me. Like I was familiar with this place before I consciously was aware of its existence.

Puerto Lopez is an exercise of letting go of my American inhibitions. There is strange and familiar insect life burgeoning from the open sewers or dikes that ring the little pueblo. Cockroaches and crickets and ants and every other god awful creature you can imagine are crawling in the next thicket or crevice. The facilities are limited and I often ruminate on the state of the plumbing and electrical wiring and wonder if the people in this country are just willfully lazy or just too busy enjoying the sun and seafood and beach - or maybe both. This kind of thing, the amenities, only matter if you´ve come to depend on them. That is one way I´ve taken to thinking of it - window dressing.


In a sense, being in Ecuador is a way of beginning to let go of this frame of mind that I have, that everything needs to be perfect or life is unmanageable. I remember being a kid and losing a He-Man toy, one of a vast array of these characters I possessed, and because the collection had been marred, I lost all interest in all of the toys. I hate things in the state of incompleteness. I am an order-bringer in the middle of a stew of total chaos, and because the disorder is so overwhelming and immutable, I am more than happy to be able to let go.

In the mornings, before the sun begins to impose its oppressive heat, I like to go to the fútbol courts and play a little with the local kids. The court above is the only one that is purely a soccer pitch. The most popular deporte here in Puerto Lopez is volleyball, actually, or bali is its referred to locally.

The first time I played, I bought the kids some Gatorade, and from then on I was in. The skids, however, don´t really need to be greased here as the Ecuadorian people are entirely friendly. A guy who was interested in where I was from followed me around for a couple hours showing me local points of interest in the town. He bought me a portion of tiny huevos duros, (hard boiled eggs) possibly tortoise eggs but I´m not sure, from a vendor. The eggs are local delicacy that are more subtly flavored and delicate than the normal chicken egg. People are more than willing to take you into their homes and feed you and talk to you.

The mariposa (butterfly) above was found dead in an ashtray. Ecuador is unrivaled in its biodiversity. Every moment is an opportunity to see a new odd creature traveling along its unique life arc. There are humongous birds here, like a gull of some kind, that fly over the shallow coasts and they feed by hurling themselves headlong into the water in pursuit of the abundant sea life.

The pescado (fish) here is unbelievable. It is typically cooked on a grill, a la plancha, and is served in thin fillets that are crisp and golden outside and moist and tasty inside. Salads of tomates y pepinos (tomatoes and cucumbers) are common and rice and/or fries are included with most every meal. No fuss dining. I tell everyone I meet that they need to come to Alaska and try the fish, and also I tell everyone that they need to open a sushi restaurant because this is the perfect place; I mean, it´s all here. Rice and amazing fish and cangrejo (crab) and langosta (lobster) and camarónes and I would imagine they can get their hands on some seaweed and wasabi. When I mention the sushi thing, people are kind of aghast, though, and I think it´s because their attitude is that everything here is as it should be, and further, why mess with a good thing. This is, of course, a perfectly reasonable way to look at things, but the order-bringer in me almost can´t take it.


We have a saying in America that goes something like, "Sometimes you are the fly, sometimes you are the windshield." That is, to me, this country of incredible climactic and biological extremes in a nutshell. Things just are and the people don´t spend their lives agonizing over the details. In the States, we seem to have created a culture entirely driven towards distracting ourselves from the living of life. We obsess over popular culture and the various idols and icons that exist in that sphere. We create an ever-shifting modern mythology about these things and have deluded ourselves through power of beamed signal that celebrity or power or the ability to purchase a luxury car is all we need. I know I have that sort of longing, but it is totally illusory on the most basic, human level.

Brad Pitt is just a man and Jon and Kate are just a collective fever dream and American Idol is a hallucination on the level of mass hysteria at a Pink Floyd laser light show. These people here in Puerto Lopez just care about feeling the sun´s warmth and the salt-licked breath of the ocean. They care about having enough fish to eat and maybe a dry place to hang a hammock and they care about their families. They could give a care less about the next Real World / Road Rules challenge and reality television doesn't register because their reality is tangible and it´s warm and beautiful in Puerto Lopez and it feels like sand in your toes and sunburn on your neck.