Music, food, art, surfing, fishing, farming, ecology and of course alcohol and drugs are the bonding social fabric we have. Crackheads and criminals live side by side with hippies and tree huggers. As long as nobody is stepping on any one else's toes everything has a way of remaining harmoniously balanced. There are so many characters in our little village each deserving of a full length story or epic film I'm sure. Lately, I've been writing articles about all the musically gifted people in town. That's not the only thing that makes this place amazing. It's all the colorful characters here that really help keep the dream a dream.
Recently, I've been showing up at Tex Mex at around 6:30am for my whiskey "come down" after a night of heavy cocaine use. It's the watering hole for early risers and two dayers. The proprietor of the morning crowd is an English white man in his forties named Roger. He has an uppety English accent, sharp wit and a mischievious grin. He's been here a long time. In addition to Tex Mex morning business he also runs Cafe Rico a few blocks down the road. He appears to be rather normal until you get to know him. He of course has a checkered past as do many folks here. His humor is dark and sarcastic. He'll blurt something out occasionally completely wicked and completely on point. It usually takes a second to digest what just came out of his mouth. Then I usually laugh out loud. Did he just say that? One morning he asks, "Hey, Loveless, I'll pay you 100 bucks to go to the 'Shall Remane Nameless Hotel' jump up on the reception desk. Drop trou and take a shit." Some might dismiss this as bullshit. I might have if I had not heard stories of a similar such incident about a year ago with my good friend Erik, Rocking J's younger brother. He paid Erik to jump on a guy's motor scooter and take a shit on the seat, Which, according to local folklore Erik immediately and proudly jumped up on the bike, in the center of town, in the middle of the day, and took that shit. Erik of course is worthy of a several stories which I'll do my best to capture as a write more about my experiences here. Roger though, with seemingly uppercrust British manners, has a twisted sense of humor behind his grin. One time I passed by Cafe Rico to pay a tab, and hollared out for Roger. He suddenly appeared, if from nowhere, by popping his head up from the hedges right in front me and said in his eloquent Britsh accent, "Roger dodger, hello Loveless." I immediately started laughing. It still makes me smile. He's a nut. He is also one of the first Expats to make Puerto Viejo his home and life. I attribute a lot of Puerto Viejo gringo culture to him and a few others like him that saw a blank canvas on an undiscovered jungle beach and started painting his vision of a new life on his own terms. Roger is probaly the most well known person in town, and deservedly so. He is the calm center in a swirling Vortex of insanity.
Then there's others like Alvin. Alvin is a forty something year old black man that is a member of the Brown family. The Brown's are the Patriarchal family of this village. They own most of this town and the surrounding lands. They are many. I meet a new Brown at least once a week. They range in personalities from uptight shrewd business folks to wandering beach bums. Alvin being the latter. I love Alvin. I don't know many facts about him, but I know him and stories of his legend. I noticed him the first time I visited Puerto Viejo. He walks with a limp and a cane. He always has the most beautiful tropical flowers slung over his shoulder. Walking from business to business he trades or perhaps sells these flowers for what he needs that day. The smile on his face is always genuine and his eyes are as deep as the deepest sea. I ride past him almost daily giving a Devil horn salute in his direction. He acknowledges me with a loud unique howler monkey styled grunt and a grin. Occasionally I stop to share a smoke and ask about how he is doing. He never asks for me anything. He is a non materialist from a rich family. His home is on the most beautiful stretch of jungle beach. It consists of of two aluminum roof panels leaned together against some bamboo poles. He is loved by many, known by no one. His presence here is as beautiful as the flowers he harvests. Such a simple man with such a grand presence deserves rockstar status.
I'll bounce the other way now, back to my beloved bar scene. A couple of years ago two couples moved into our stretch of paradise to start a dream in surfer's dreamland. "Tasty Waves Beachfront Bar and Cantina" Bryton and Steve were the two partners I think. The toll of time and who knows what... leaves Bryton here today standing solo. So let me try to describe Bryton . Bryton is barely 30 I think. It's a tough call because he has a relatively healthy existence. Although, I've seen him barely able to stand up in front of Mango's Sunset Grill more than once. Amen brother. His bar is at the very North end of Cocles beach called tasty waves. His appearence and demeanor was very similar to Spicoli from "Fast Times at Ridge Mont High" when I first met him. Nowadays, it's all Bryton. He's been one of the most honest, hard working and genuinely upbeat additons to this culture. I've seen him sigh as he turned away to count out bribe money to keep his bar open on that night. He has the courage, as many of us learn, to stand up to street thugs and isn't afraid of getting in a scuffle if he needs to. Especially, if a tourist is in a pickle. Bryton can be seen around town these days on his motorcyle passing out flyers and usually with his buddy Jackson(a character... oh what a character). Bryton is also very supportive of my music and myself. Always makes a point to greet me after my sets and tell me how he enjoyed it. I always see him in the crowd nodding along with a cold beer in hand. Welcome to the family brother.
Then there's Margarita, a fifty something kind of haggared and well worn black woman. She hangs out at the corner near the bank and what we locals call "crack bridge". She's a fiesty, firey, moody ball of energy. She carries a shank, and has no issues using it when things get out of hand in the gang of misfists and junkies. When I first met her some two years ago, she said, "I heard you think you are the Devil?" I replied "This is not something I think. I realized I was God one day and aware that God was evil. That unfortunately would make me the Devil." She replied, "Well I'm the Devil's wife." So I took her by the waist, gave her a dip and stuck my tongue in her toothless mouth. She nearly fainted. Obviously it was totally unexpected for a gringo like myself to do such a thing. We've been friends ever since. She still tells people she's my wife. Occasionally she'll dissappear for weeks on end. Usually, this means she's in the slammer for breaking a bottle over some one's head in an alcohol fueled rage. I like her. She's had a rough life, but still smiles and makes jokes. She is a fire cracker of a woman. Reminds me of my crazy grandmother Alma. She's always wearing these knee lenght shorts with a "pee hole" cut right below the crotch. About a year ago my nose was really fucked up do to my over consumption of blow. She said, "Devil, pee in a cup and snort it. It'll will fix your nose." I didn't try that and don't ever plan to. Lot's of people, hippies and locals, drink their pee for health reasons here. That's really strange for me. and think it's just not something a person should NOT do. To each his own. Amen to fucking crazies.
I love this town. "Ohhhh... these are the people in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood."
