The Dalai Lama has said, “If you lose, don’t lose the lesson.” I’ve been thinking about this for the past day or so. Becky and I were robbed on Sunday morning on a beach in Ostional, south of San Juan del Sur. What is the lesson in that? 7am in the morning, we had set up a tent on the beach and had our backpacks inside. We had just crossed the border of Costa Rica and returned to Nicaragua to renew our visas. No one else on the beach except for three guys that had walked to the other side of the beach. We had slept with our passports and money belts on our bodies and were weary of people walking the beach at night. But morning came without a problem and Becky and I decided to take a short swim. While I had just caught a wave and body surfed back to Becky, she said she noticed someone near our tent, then running away. We immediately checked it out, discovering the zipper open and our backpacks gone. Becky starting screaming “Ayudame (Help me).” The two young men, who were part of the three we had seen earlier, walking past our tent took off running the opposite direction as the first. I chased after those two; instincts, chase those that run away from you. Sprinting along the rocky beach barefoot, 15 feet behind the two and closing in. Running past someone’s property, the two tried to enter through a gate, but the caretaker of the property didn’t let them, and we had trapped them. The police were called, and an hour later, they showed up, all the while, the man with the goods got farther away. Becky ran into the woods behind the tent, eliciting help from other neighbors and saw no sign of the thief. Now, the two we caught are in jail in San Juan del Sur awaiting their case. Based on the property caretaker witness testimony, we have a good idea of who the third person is, but there is no progress on finding him.
At the moment, I am internally running and turning in a maze of emotional directions. I feel anger and a need for revenge. I want to catch the thief, steal our own stuff back, and give him a good elbow in the face. When I imagine the events in my mind, I feel regret, if we could just go back in time and not go swimming in the ocean. Defeated and deflated as well. How could I let my guard down, as to let someone just walk into our tent and take our things. I had and still have the feeling that I am better than that, more vigilant, attentive, and smart about things. Yet because someone was able to get the best of us, I feel embarrassed. We had heard the warnings of people that the beach can be dangerous and to be careful. My own mother had told me before I left, not to go hanging around secluded beaches, that she didn’t want me to become a statistic. I heard her, understood her and others who said something similar, yet chose to anyway. They were right on Sunday morning. We were wrong. Mourning the loss of some valuable items, Becky’s SLR camera, iPhone, water filter and our passports; journals and memory chips filled with pictures gone too. Dreading having to replace certain things and spend more money when we try to be so frugal daily. And now? What lesson do we learn from this? Don’t leave your stuff unattended on a beach while you go swimming? Maybe, but I still don’t like the idea of not trusting anyone that is a stranger. The vast majority of people are good. We can’t let certain pieces of crap ruin that for the rest of us. What sort of relationships can we develop with each other if we do not have a certain faith in society, a trust in the good of people. Maybe the lesson is to not travel with such valuable things. But then, when do we ever use these valuable and useful tools, only in our homes? No.
After the theft, we were left with our tent, some clothes, breakfast we had bought, and my water bladder. And because of the theft, we became much more involved with the community of Ostional, the caretaker offering us to stay in his home, giving us food, and the town giving us bus money to get back to Managua. Again, while working with the police in charge of the case in San Juan del Sur, we were given food, housing and friendship by the neighboring Firefighters. Food, water, shelter, and a community. We had the most important things. Giving us the chance to recognize how much we really have and to appreciate the good people that surround us. Maybe that is the lesson.
At the moment, I am internally running and turning in a maze of emotional directions. I feel anger and a need for revenge. I want to catch the thief, steal our own stuff back, and give him a good elbow in the face. When I imagine the events in my mind, I feel regret, if we could just go back in time and not go swimming in the ocean. Defeated and deflated as well. How could I let my guard down, as to let someone just walk into our tent and take our things. I had and still have the feeling that I am better than that, more vigilant, attentive, and smart about things. Yet because someone was able to get the best of us, I feel embarrassed. We had heard the warnings of people that the beach can be dangerous and to be careful. My own mother had told me before I left, not to go hanging around secluded beaches, that she didn’t want me to become a statistic. I heard her, understood her and others who said something similar, yet chose to anyway. They were right on Sunday morning. We were wrong. Mourning the loss of some valuable items, Becky’s SLR camera, iPhone, water filter and our passports; journals and memory chips filled with pictures gone too. Dreading having to replace certain things and spend more money when we try to be so frugal daily. And now? What lesson do we learn from this? Don’t leave your stuff unattended on a beach while you go swimming? Maybe, but I still don’t like the idea of not trusting anyone that is a stranger. The vast majority of people are good. We can’t let certain pieces of crap ruin that for the rest of us. What sort of relationships can we develop with each other if we do not have a certain faith in society, a trust in the good of people. Maybe the lesson is to not travel with such valuable things. But then, when do we ever use these valuable and useful tools, only in our homes? No.
After the theft, we were left with our tent, some clothes, breakfast we had bought, and my water bladder. And because of the theft, we became much more involved with the community of Ostional, the caretaker offering us to stay in his home, giving us food, and the town giving us bus money to get back to Managua. Again, while working with the police in charge of the case in San Juan del Sur, we were given food, housing and friendship by the neighboring Firefighters. Food, water, shelter, and a community. We had the most important things. Giving us the chance to recognize how much we really have and to appreciate the good people that surround us. Maybe that is the lesson.
"If you lose, do not lose the lesson." - Dalai Lama
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