Late night at Cañas



Entering Guanacaste province at sunset



Cañas, Guanacaste province, Costa Rica. Midnight.

I'm sitting on a desk chair under the yellow light in front of our hotel room because the wi-fi signal is stronger here than inside. From the backyard of the hotel mellow Latin music and animated voices drift over: the party has slowed down a little. A couple of hours ago an enthusiastic group of trumpet players and at least three drummers made much more noise, and two pretty girls in short black dresses were dancing, ringed by a clapping, shouting group of revellers, smoke rising from a big barbecue. What were they celebrating in the middle of the week? Maybe a Christmas party.

Above me, two very pale green, almost translucent geckos – like the kind of Guatemalan jade they call 'purple' – are clinging to the overhanging roof. When I move, they dart back and forth, excited for a moment, but soon they sit still again, waiting.

The wind is herding white clouds across the moon, close to full, lifting the sleeves of my blouse, my hair, rustling the leaves of the banana trees and bird-of-paradise plants that line the white-washed walls surrounding the yard. Cicadas have fallen silent for the moment; maybe they, too, need to catch their breath from time to time.