JUNGLE BUS

by Lorenzo Lago


as we wind down through the deep mountains
toward the sea
I fill with youthful anticipation
I am returning to a warm tropical coast after time away

we twist and turn
circling our way through every shade of green imaginable
I notice the palm trees, insects, lizards, and bamboo
are all different shades of this forever green

the birds of stark reds, yellows and blues
all light areas of the jungle
like the bright stars that light a nighttime sky

ever so often
I get a short glimpse of the ocean as we round a corner
the startling sapphire blue 
the white whites, opal mystic
explode in contrast
to the rich hue of this jungle jade

I am the one American on this open-air bus
I am surrounded by women and their children
they are on their way to the marketplace
there, the women will sell their fruits and veggies
seeds, flowers, bulbs, shellfish and chickens

you name it, it’s here
and many of these exotic foods I can’t name
I ask a woman
what is this called
I repeat what she says
but her ancient native tongue is to hard too understand
I smile, she smiles, her kids smile

the men aboard the bus are going to work
  in some quiet, lonely spot in the jungle
they carry their machetes
a bit of lunch
they never seem to be without their hats firmly in place



I have my straw hat on
my light pants
thin shirt
I have to look the part and be presentable
no surf trunks here
one needs proper attire for this social encounter

my surfboard is in the back corner of the bus
my small backpack is at my side
those onboard
  know I come for the waves that pound this section of coast
but they are not sure why I come so far

I do not need to explain why
I sit calmly and secure
and I don’t feel like a tourist

how do you tell these friendly people that this is my religion
this is what I do in my life
no need for prose
or philosophical banter
no quotes from the great writers
no words of wisdom from early surf pioneers

I come to fill my need
my habit
my dance that only I dance

out on the ocean
I share the dance floor with others of our tribe
we are all getting what we’ve come for
and it’s good
better then we imagined
it is like being so very hungry
looking for a simple meal
but devouring a large feast
prepared by a goddess

Like Zorba, I dance till I drop
exhausted, my heart beats wildly
I lie in the sand
eyes staring out to sea
out
toward the rolling, gracious
ocean of my life