It’s 1991 and I’m in Limon, Costa Rica, teaching English as a second language at a church school. It’s a weekend and I am taking a rest when suddenly I’m tossed off the bed. I don’t know what’s happening, but I feel I must get out of the building, and I run. As I leave the house, I’m once again knocked down. I come out on the road and look across at the jungle. Nothing makes sense. The jungle is moving two feet to the right, then two feet to the left and is going up and down. Puzzled, I kneel down and put my hand on the road only to see my hand move likewise.