Sunday marked the end of my first month here in Nicaragua. What better way for me to commemorate it than by learning to make baskets from an 80 year old man from the village. Now a month in I am starting to find my rhythm. At times if feels like I just got here but most of the time if feels like I have been here on this farm, on this island, in Nicaragua forever. I have internalized the rhythm of the farm; where we harvest the salad greens, how to carry firewood up the hill, how to light to rocket stove to boil the beans which we eat with every meal, how to feed the pigs, chickens and dogs. My body has grown accustomed to life here and my mind is following suite. I look forward to seeing what changes the next seven months will bring. Already home and the people there are loosing focus, fading into that place in my heart where all things not present go to wait until I return to them.