There are stark contrasts here: wide open spaces like rice paddies and long coastal beaches near crowded barrios and trash-littered streets packed with cars, motos, and pedestrians; the sounds of ocean waves with loud music from neighborhood corner-stores; beautiful orange and red flowering trees, frilly palm trees and tall-reaching ferns growing next to poor and dilapidated houses (perched, at times, precariously on cliffs overlooking breath-taking views).
Paint and clothing colors are bright. The sun is harsh. It is a land of extremes.
Crazy driving, motos toting huge gas tanks, spontaneous dumps near fruit trees and a creek. Friendly smiles and extreme kindness, impatient honking, neighbors stopping by with herb tea creations for a child sick with stomach flu.
And the more I get used to it the more I wonder how I'll adjust again to a calmer, quieter, more sanitized--muted--life. I think it may be harder than I'd anticipated.