My Mancora

“The first time I came to Máncora I fell in love with the place. I was coming back from Ecuador to Lima after a course, perfect opportunity to get to know this town of which everyone talked about. With the little money I had, I rented a room with a bathroom, rather rustic but decent. Alone, with the smile that comes from being so. But my Mancora is not the same as the one I heard about so much at school. My Mancora is the sun that makes me sigh each afternoon, those fish swimming by my feet when I´m getting out of the ocean, the sand that covers me exfoliating even the last sign of stress. My Máncora are the artesans working to continue their trip, the dark skinned kids with yellow hair dyed by the sun, that dark skinned guy that smiles at you and invites you to remember every moment that yesterday is not more important than today. My Mancora are the beach bonfires to the sound of a guitar, two drums and a bongo. My Mancora is to share, laugh, sing, love; because here I love life, my land, my people, my peace.

So my first encounters with this parallel world were days and nights of different melodies, different people, all joined together for one same cause: to share smiles, knowledge and a song. I learned to juggle at the boulevard, to play the bongo at the bonfires, to braid hair from the roots as a volunteer in a school, that one same sandwich tastes better when it can feed ten people. I moved on sure of the fact that there is something more, that at home I forget to search for.

Two years later I came back to this Mancora of mine, with a broken and silent heart. This time it was five weeks: the first of inertia, the second of escape, the third of silence, and I started feeling again. My bitterness healed, my heart started speaking again and the smile came back, with the feeling of wanting to stay forever. But I left, again.

People ask me why I left home, why y left the tender cuddles of a daddy that can turn the strongest storm into a cup of tea, and looks at me like I´m the most precious thing he ever did; the caresses of mum that relax me till I fall asleep and make me feel safer than when I was still in her womb. Why I left the purrs of my cats, which elevate me up to heaven, the smiles of that love that never ends…

And this is why. I go to Máncora because that is where I find myself. I stayed because it became the only place where I knew who I am and who I don´t want to be. Now, in my days, people don’t have names or nations. In one same table, Argentina, Chile, Colombia and Italy share a beer. In another, Holland, Israel, Australia and Canada talk about the beautiful Sofia serving at the bar. And suddenly countries are brothers and we are Latin America, Europe and Asia sharing experiences; and suddenly there are no more frontiers and we are all citizens of the world.

That is my lovely Mancora, where diversity unites in one same flow of energy. Here I remember it´s not about towns or cities. Here I´m not just another resident of the earth; I am also a part of her, who welcomes me gladly, and I am aware of this all the time. It´s something I know, but at home it´s a bit more difficult to remember. Sometimes one needs to go away, see it all from outside. I don´t know if I´m at the stage of inertia, or escape, or silence; I think I´m not able to fully feel again. The bitterness is healing, my heart thinking what to say, what I know is that the smile came back once again, with the feeling of wanting to stay forever. That is why I came back.”

I wrote the above on March 2013, I accomplished a lot during my time in Máncora, lifted myself up, raised my beaten up self-esteem, regained the confidence in myself and established my own little kingdom. I found the love of my life and followed him home, I went through difficulties, I dealt, I learned, I grew. Life has been a bit too hard on me lately; I lost loved ones, I found traumas, I relived fears from the past, I went crazy. I´m home now and I need to heal, I will heal. And I do believe My Mancora might help. What do you reckon?