Scuba diving had long been a distant dream, a vague desire that didn’t seem truly possible. I have never lived near an ocean, nor even a comfortable distance from an ocean. I loved the idea of diving, but I also loved the idea of time travel and telekinesis – for years, they all seemed equally far-fetched. Now I would finally have the chance to breathe underwater. Something that had existed only in movies would at last become real.
Technically, I am capable of dancing, in the same way I am capable of climbing a ladder or learning Morse code. But in my heart, I have never been a dancer. At big parties, the arrival of a DJ signals ordering another drink and wandering outside.
Distilled to its most basic theme, Holi is about expressing love and banishing ill-will. But the best part, the part that everyone cherishes, is throwing colored powder in the air. Celebrants dust themselves in vibrant hues, then spray each other with water, so that the powder dyes every inch of exposed skin.
I was grateful to hear that INBio would stay open, and the living animals wouldn’t have to be relocated. But it seemed a shame: INBio once had high aspirations. The place was quaint and even a little hokey, but it had a lot of heart. Someone had dreamed big, and that dream had ended in financial ruin. It’s a reminder that everything – even a “natural theme park” – has to evolve.
“There is a sign above the stable,” said Eric, my guide. ”You may have seen it. It says, ‘El hombre que no domina los caballos no se domina a si mismo.’ Basically it means, ‘The man who cannot master a horse has not mastered himself.’”