Ecuador one year later

i think about the land where everything wants to grow and ache for it's abundance.

i remember people who stopped and helped each other because they recognize we are all community.  

i contemplate the peaceful protests and actions of the citizenry against their own government.

i smell the cigarette a group of men would share, never hogging an entire stick for oneself.

i feel the release of tension the nightly swim in the hot springs provided

i hear a dog bark and recall how a pet without an owner behaves.

i watched the transporter movie the other day and thought about it's spanish counterpart being blared over the bus speakers.

i rub my belly and think of the water that looks just fine but will infect you. 

i feel the weight of my backpack and the comfort in knowing all i needed was with me

i listen for the sound of the ocean right outside my window

i watch for pink bananas at the supermarket
i ache for a horse to run

i talk about mining rights and indigenous people 

i would eat a guinea pig in a heart beat

i scratch jungle bug bite scars 

i marvel at how shitty american drivers really are, even with two lanes and lines and signs and everything

i hear children confident and able

i feel the love of a community that sees you off at the bus stop

i remember

            and it all makes me smile