The Sayulita Shit Show: Part Two
So, to recap.
Here’s what you missed on the Sayulita Shit Show:
The sea is full of sewage.
Everyone is getting sick.
Tourism is a parasite.
And I’m grateful.
All that negativity and she says she’s grateful? Of course. As these things often go, this challenging situation presented me with a choice. A choice which, in the end, reminded me of two very important things.
It’s on you to make the best of a shitty situation — literally.
When I first arrived and quickly realized that the town was not as I had hoped — my fault, really — I very mindfully acknowledged that my expectations were something they should not have been, and promised to give myself time to settle in. This was especially important as it rained the entire first week I was there. (And I know well the sway of the weather on my mood.)
Sure enough, the sun came out and shifted my perspective.
The construction site across the street from my hostel was still extremely loud, but hey, at least I could blast music in my headphones in the sun. And wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to practice meditation? Perspective!
And then the sewage pipe broke again. I spent an entire day complaining to everyone who would listen about what a shame it all was. Woe is me, I came to this town so I could walk to a suitable surf break and I can’t because now, on top of metaphorically eating shit on waves, I’d also literally be eating shit underwater.
By the end of the day? I was tired of feeling sorry for myself.
So I said fuck it — and went out surfing first thing the next morning.
I’m not trying to imply this was the wise thing to do, or even an applicable metaphor in all scenarios.
But there is something to be said for accepting a less-than-ideal present situation as is, and moving onwards from there.
What can I say?
These days, I’m much happier swimming in shit, doing what I set out to do with my time, than sitting sad on the sand.
—
2. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
Remember when I said that everyone in town was getting violently ill? It’s true. Save for like, two people.
One being me.
Don’t ask how, because I have no idea. But one morning, while discussing my strangely strong stomach with some friends, I offered the idea that maybe I’m just a piece of a shit, so the shit in the ocean had nothing on me.
This became a recurring joke over the coming days, during which a group of us devolved deeper and deeper into delinquency. We continuously called ourselves and one another “pieces of shit” — and we acted accordingly.
I need not go into details. But these days were the highlight of my month.
I had such a good time with these shitheads — and then some. In the process of allowing myself some fun, of swapping my newly-donned remote worker hat for my well-worn backpacker one…
I started seeing Sayulita in a completely new light.
Suddenly, the place wasn’t so dirty. Or so loud. Or filled with drunk tourists.
Because I was a part of the shit show. I had joined the circus! And it was divine.
I was reminded — for the hundredth time — of the reason why I travel.
People.
Meeting beautiful new souls and sharing a small slice of our lives? Yes, that. Absolutely.
But even more so, I was reminded of the significant fact that who we spend our time with can completely alter our experience of a place. (It is the blessing and the curse of the solo traveller that said company changes so frequently.)
I think it’s wonderful.
To everyone who added some light (and shit) to my time in Sayulita…
This one’s for you.
—
The nature of gratitude is funny.
So easy to accept while right in front of you. So hard to see when things go wrong. All the more impactful for being temporarily hidden.
I began by advising you to stay away, but maybe the correct statement should be this:
Come to Sayulita with the right people. Just be prepared to face some shit — or, be prepared to shit together.
It’s all in the company.
ONWARDS,
Mag