3 a.m. I need to pee. There’s a frog in the toilet.
It seems that wherever I go in this country, including when I need to go, there is a constant reminder that I am not separate from nature.
On my short walk to the beach, I encounter cows, innumerable grown dogs, puppies, hens with their chicks, cats, kittens and lots of different birds. They share the space with great patience and recognition of the other’s right to existence.
I’ve noticed that none of the cows and dogs are afraid of the tourists, which explains why I can’t for the life of me get the cows out of the yard. Alstid, the owner of La Rocha where I’m staying, says that the animals figured out long ago that the white people will feed and pet them, while the Indians are more aggressive toward their presence.
This morning at the beginning of yoga, I went into a full body stretch only to feel my feet touch something soft and furry…one of the canines that shows up regularly for class. Cats sit with me for my pre yoga coffee, meowing for food, of which I have none but they insist nonetheless.
And the frog in the toilet? There’s no way I’m peeing on a frog, so I had to wait about an hour, bladder bursting, until it made its way to the back of the toilet, from where I shooed it off to a more comfortable distance (after getting a picture of course). From now on, I’m keeping the toilet lid down.
