San Blas Islands – Day 1: The Beauty of Solitude
SAN BLAS ISLANDS
Day 1: The Beauty of Solitude
February 17, 2023
After a three-hour ride that took me to the port, I was once again on a vessel that would take me to yet another series of tropical islands – the San Blas archipelago – part of the indigenous Guna Yala territory, inhabited by the Guna people.
Quite tragically, this would mark my last adventure in the Caribbean – at least for this trip. It felt weird accepting this after a six-month on-again-off-again relationship. I had first stumbled upon it in Mexico – a short-term fling really, one that had me discovering its bounty through snorkelling. Then it was Belize, with Caye Caulker consolidating my love for it after I was introduced to scuba diving and other water sports. Then came a day trip to Livingston in Guatemala, where I got to learn more about the Garifuna. After that was Honduras – two beautiful months in Utila that had me calling the Caribbean my home, if only for a short while. Surely the two best months of my life.
I had planned to go to the Corn Islands in the Caribbean of Nicaragua – a plan that turned to shambles after a hurricane hit. Instead, I delayed my plans to revisit by a few weeks, after which I had the pleasure of visiting the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, exposing me to its vibrant wildlife. Finally, I made it to Panama, where I flirted with the same sea once again in Bocas del Toro, and now here, around this archipelago. Quite the romantic affair, no?
Doing Absolutely Nothing
Our ride to the first island was eventful to say the least, with every bump eliciting an “Ooooh!” and every splash an “Aaaaah!” from those unaccustomed to boat rides.
Terribly annoyed and soaking wet, I quickly got over it the second we reached our first destination; Isla Gorgidub, also known as Isla Pelícano – an island reminiscent of Sandy Caye in every way except for the crowds of tourists and the many huts scattered across its grass- and palm-covered sands. A paradise in and of itself, but above all and most importantly, this is the place where Rio and Tokyo escaped to after their bank heist – and if that ain’t friggin’ awesome, I don’t know what is.
The second we got there, I made it a point to hike along the perimeter of the island – a feat that took a respectable four minutes in total. After this, all knackered and beaten up, I quickly claimed a hammock and fired up my Kindle. We were called for lunch after a while – fried fish, rice and beans. Then, wanting to make the most of my day, I spent a couple of hours snorkelling, with a barracuda and an upside-down jellyfish being the most memorable finds.
After that, it was time for our ‘tour’ – a ten-minute boat ride to a place referred to as a natural pool; a shallow, sandy patch in the middle of the sea where we hung out for a few minutes. Relishing my time on the hammock and having seen far more interesting things, I told the rest of the group I felt somewhat jaded about this pool – prompting this obnoxious Brit with an over-the-top BBC accent and a stereotypical loud, arrogant, raspy voice to tell me that that wasn’t quite the right word to use in that context. You don’t know exactly what goes through my head, Tom. So how dare you? How the hell dare you question my command of the English language?
While I floated there, I figured I would’ve much rather continued reading on the hammock by myself. It wasn’t just about reading though. Being stuck on this island meant I literally had nothing else to do and nowhere else to go – which meant that for the first time in my entire life, I was actually encouraged to do nothing. I simply had to savour it. And I gotta say, I savoured every last bit of it. I felt a sense of tranquillity and peace I never even imagined I could experience.
On multiple occasions, some of the other islanders came up to invite me for a beer or a game of volley or whatever, and I’d just wave them away so I could continue enjoying the perfection of my solitude.
Recording Culture
After starting and finishing an entire book, I did, however, engage in a conversation with a group of seasoned Italians; Pietro and Loredana, and Max and Matilda – two couples who randomly met in Portugal, where they retired and are now enjoying their lives. We spent the evening chatting about anything and everything – from our travel experiences to life in general, from the ruthlessness of time to the wisdom it grants us.
We had a long debate about how progress might affect the indigenous people of the San Blas Islands – one that made me realise how much I had learnt throughout this trip. Watching the local kids playing in the sand, seemingly oblivious to everything around them, Max pointed out that now that these communities have been exposed to tourism (as they have been for decades), it would only take a few more years for them to become Westernised and start forgetting their culture – a pity in and of itself.
Whilst I agreed that cultural homogenisation is a pity, I also found myself re-quoting Ishmael’s “Everyone deserves development!” and added that culture isn’t, and shouldn’t be, entertainment for the masses – that these places aren’t a zoo or a museum. If a branded synthetic polyester T-shirt is cheaper and more comfortable than traditional clothing, why shouldn’t they wear it? If coffee is more enjoyable than a local brew, why should they miss out? It’s not only their choice, it’s their right. Also, who are we to act as gatekeepers to progress?
Max conceded that some aspects of progress are undeniably good, particularly when it comes to sanitation and hygiene, using the “crap hole” he grew up with as an example. Still, he argued that communities should be introduced to change gradually and in small steps, so they can better acclimatise. That we can’t just rock up to a random island and tell people to use a toilet instead of a crap hole – instead, we should understand their crap holes first, weigh the pros and cons, and only then offer alternatives if they agree.
At this, Pietro jumped into the conversation and asked Max a question: “Did anyone ask if you were comfortable having a phone before you bought one and started spending billable hours of your life on it?” Touché. That made me pause and actually ruminate on it. In our world, we’re constantly barraged with new information, technologies, and skills to learn. Is such rapid innovation always a good thing? Would a slower approach help us integrate new ideas more meaningfully into our lives? And is that even possible? Take too long to adapt, and another novelty appears before you’ve processed the last.
And so, my final perspective was simple – que sera, sera. Life goes on, progress progresses, and the world keeps on turning. Maybe in a couple of hundred years there will be no such thing as indigenous populations anymore – just a homogenised global culture with history as its only distinguishing feature. Whilst many argue globalisation won’t lead to that, I remain sceptical. For starters, the language I grew up speaking is already becoming obsolete – not to mention traditional clothing, games, music, and customs.
So maybe culture will be lost. And if that’s the case, our only defence is the one humanity has always relied on – record-keeping. Perhaps one day, cultures will exist only in museums, archives, and art. Who knows?
Tropical Heaven
It was such a lovely evening – the kind of conversation that makes you forget everything else, especially when it means being away from the young’uns as they indulged in drinking games.
Over this trip, I’d grown to tolerate – nay, like – backpackers in general. But I’d also realised there are different backpacker archetypes, and I don’t quite fit most of them. I’m not the preppy “yay let’s meet people!” type, nor the miser “let’s cook to save money!”, nor the delusional “chicken bus trips are fun!”, nor the over-the-top “let’s drink our livers off!” kind. Sure, I’ll partake from time to time – usually out of convenience rather than desire. Maybe I’m a boring old man, but I pride myself on being a mostly solitary one who isn’t too stuck up to recognise that fun comes in many forms.
And so, after a long day spent relaxing and just being, I brushed my teeth with saltwater (disgusting) and skipped the saltwater shower. I mean, I was gonna spend three days swimming anyway – what was the point? With that, I headed to my hut and collapsed onto the bed, feeling freer than ever.