At the urging of an Ecuadorian psychiatrist, after we emerged from the jungle we quickly headed to the coast to "get normal." On the recommendation of Tom and Mariela we headed to the growing beachtown of Canoa, where we rented a small house from a family for $10 a day. Factor in $1 beers and $2.50 seafood meals, even our attempts at excessive indulgence failed to produce daily tabs higher than $15 a piece. Our first official night out after our release, ended like any free for all should, with Joe shaking me awake around 6am on the neighboring house's porch. Quickly, we became known around town for several reasons. Opting to keep our wild look, we stuck out in town like a sore thumb--even amongst the other gringo travelers. While out one night, we actually had a backpacker come up and chat nonsense with us for a few minutes before asking us flat-out why we looked the way we did. He later confided that his friends dared him to go up and ask. Tom, who had a friend who lived in a nearby town, directed the guy to seek out the "terrorist looking white guy" on the beach and lo' and behold Joe was stopped by the guy while walking on the beach. "You must be the guy" he exclaimed.
The beach party never ended and only seemed to be growing. We noticed that land was cheap and had major potential for development so our curiousity had us asking around on sale prices and we even toured a few lots. Eventually, word had spread around town that "the bearded gringos" were big real estate monguls looking to buy up all the land." I first noticed something was up when the old lady who we were renting the house from started addressing me by "mi hijo" or her son. I was a bit surprised how quickly I earned this endearment until she started insisting that we buy up her beach lots. Other people started saying things like "I've heard about you guys." No exactly wanting to dispell the belief that we rich moguls, we played along and enjoyed our week on the beach. Gettin' normal never was so fun.
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