OK, I’ve begun to notice something about these Portlanders…

they seem, for the most part, to have twinkles in their eyes.

I was walking down the street this morning in search of somewhere to breakfast that had the “tres B’s”, as we like to say in Costa Rica…

that is, bueno, bonito y barato (or, good, pretty and cheap).

Along the way I encountered a young girl, riding a skateboard and draped in a rather ornate quilt.

There was another person walking ahead of me, a female. And when the young girl passed she stopped and asked for something…I assume money.

“I don’t give money for meth!”, was the harsh reply.

The young girl shot back with a few choice words and then off she went.

It was bizarre.

I mean, I’ve seen my share of panhandlers…we have them in Costa Rica and I’m aware that they do exist in all large cities…

but skateboarding while draped in an ornate quilt?

Perhaps, only in Portland.

I’ve never seen the show Portlandia. My daughter tells me I must. Apparently it’s a parody of the outlandish behavior that this town has become famous for.

OK, starting to understand all that.

As I write this, sitting in the hostel, someone is singing at the top of their lungs.

Thankfully she has a relatively nice voice…the Portland twinkles.

I walked down the street earlier this evening to a place I was told had some good and cheap eating establishments. I passed a very large guy with long stringy hair. One could’ve easily mistaken him, with his immense size and downbeat demeanour, for an unmasked luchador of the World Wrestling Federation.

He looked up and asked me nonchalantly, “hey man, can you spare some change?” I instinctively gave him the little I had.

When I walked back in the other direction, I got precisely the same, “hey man, can you spare some change?”

“But, I already gave”, I replied. “Oh yea man, thanks!”

Once again, the Portland twinkles.

I’ve long had a bit of the twinkle myself. I mean it’s not the kind that buys me wide berths from passers by on the sidewalk…

but it does make people wonder, especially members of my family who think I’m completely and utterly nuts (like my mom).

In preparation for my trip I did some research, including a YouTube video that asked random people on the streets of downtown Portland why outsiders might think their town is, well, weird.

I especially liked the answer of one young pierced and tattooed hipster….

“You wanna know why Portland is weird, man…because of ME, that’s why!”

A tad egoistical, but he just might be right…that is, because of him and a lot of other free spirited twinklers like him.

Now, you might think all this weirdness would dissuade me from repatriating to a place like Portland…

Well, speaking of weird, have you been to San Jose, Costa Rica?

No, on the contrary, it’s the weirdness that draws me.

Remember, as my last post alluded, we must lose it, in order to find it…

and right now, I’m looking.

I believe the vast majority of Portlanders are as well.

In that sense, they’re “my kind of people.”