Boundaries in Providencia are fluid.
Nature seems to rebel against fences. Overpowering them; mixing the private with the public.
Even when there is not a sense of rebellion, the boundaries between what is man-made and natural blend. They exist as part of a continuum.
Public and private property exist, but walking into a restaurant in the middle of the day to Skype because it is the only place in the island where we get a good signal is OK.
Admittedly since the place belongs to the pizza
it really shouldn't be much of a problem.
Still things belong to people I'm sure, but it seems as if they don't always care to portray that. I mean, I have come into Pizza's Place only to find a group of hens sitting at the table, I actually felt I was intruding on a gossip session amongst old ladies. I'm sure the hens have owners but it is ok for them to roam around, hanging out in Pizzerias, trees (yes who knew hens liked to hang out in trees) or next to empty soda crates.
Yes the boundaries of property are just so fluid... Meet my dogs, Rex and Roxy,
They of course are not actually mine. As a matter of fact they are not even stray. They have owners and live in a house, but every time I walk by their house I whistle for them and they come out and walk the rest of the way to Pizza's Place with me, hang out while I do my internet business and then walk me back. Their owners don't seem to mind even though they don't know me.
And still surprisingly enough it seems important to put a lock on a space that has so many other points of entry,
But perhaps the most noticeable fluidity exists within the boundaries of physical space. Indoor and outdoor can sometimes be confusing concepts here. This is our restaurant,
we eat here every day and when we are under that roof we are inside even though we are still stepping on sand. Did I mention that if you don't feel like going in and asking for the menu this might help,
But even the mangroves seem to challenge the necessity for roots to be underground
Merging the air and the ocean
And at another local bar, why bother having separate tables and menus. When so often a table
also makes such a good menu
This is a local eatery,
bar also, but you are welcome to bring your own alcohol and just hang out, as a matter of fact you might have to because they are likely to run out but the party is likely to continue. The restaurant/bar is really the kitchen of their house, but the kitchen of their house is really a dance floor, as Matt and I discovered last night. If you run out of room there, that is not a problem because the restaurant/bar extends into the public road to the other side where there are bamboo seats and a tent with a hammock.
It is a larger establishment than it seems at first sight.
Even the boundaries between garbage
and decoration are fluid.
Not to mention between food and decoration,
and eating utensils and tree ornaments.
But I guess it is all part of the fluidity between real and imagined.
Who needs a real window when they can simply paint one?
Even the cemetery seems to challenge boundaries by being the liveliest cemetery I have ever seen.
At sunset it even makes sense that the dead would want to come out and enjoy the light.
The street is for motos,
also for cows;
for children to run and play.
And of course, the shower is a parking spot.
And most of all with its clarity,
and waves the ocean blends one world with another.
And with your feet being pulled into the sea, simultaneously on land and water you realize nothing is absolute.
