Eating Habits

Eating here is as much a part of life, and social life, as it is in the States, though with significant differences. In the States, it is customary to call before showing up at someone’s house, particularly if you’re going to be there at meal time. Here—not so much. One never knows who will show up on the doorstep unannounced, sometimes at mealtime, sometimes before, and you simply prepare one more plate.

Another major difference is that in the States you don’t just walk off into the forest and return with food. It’s a weekly occurrence here. Two weeks ago we were just sitting around the house with the neighbor and Diego’s brother-in-law when they decided they wanted picadillo made with hearts of palm, so we grabbed machetes and started walking. We detoured off into the palms and then they began hacking away at one of the palm trees. Twenty or thirty minutes later they had reached the “heart” of the tree, which we left hidden by the side of the road as we went off to search for granadillas. (My dictionary tells me granadillas are pomegranates, but my guidebook tells me they’re passion fruit. Having seen neither of these, I’m not sure which is correct, but I’m inclined to believe the guidebook.) Diego climbed a tree to get to them and we returned with 10 or so after having eaten a few before departing. The neighbor took half and we used the rest to make juice.

Other days Diego, and sometimes friends or brothers, head off into the trees and return with fruits. A few weeks back he and his brothers went across the road, climbed a tree, and came back with 52 avocados. He and his brother-in-law disappeared a few days ago and returned with another huge bag of them since the 52 were gone. Yes, eaten. We had split the original 52 with his brothers, and our portion didn’t last long since Diego can eat as many as 5 avocados in a day. There are actually three types of avocadoes here: the traditional dark green avocadoes like we have in the States, a lighter green one that is similarly shaped but has a huge white seed instead of the dark one (these are the ones they picked in the trees), and a light green one that is shaped slightly different that we bought one day in the supermarket in Quepos. The local ones taste a little different, being a little more watery.

There are lots of other foods that we take from the land. We have plantain trees growing next to the house that have kept us almost in constant supply. I’ve learned to cook them 5 different ways. Sunday, Diego went outside and I saw him digging beside the house. He returned with yuca, which is a lot like a potato when boiled. This made for a very cheap lunch—rice, beans, plantains, yuca, and boiled eggs with a refresco made from oranges. I’d say we didn’t spend more than $1 for that meal, possibly less.

This is our diet. As I’ve said before, rice and beans are a staple and appear at every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. With that we usually have a vegetable, sometimes two (cauliflower and broccoli are two of our favorites). Eggs are very common, particularly if we don’t feel like cooking or we don’t have much else. (If I make enough rice at lunch, I only have to make it once a day. And the beans we just reheat. ) We occasionally buy meat, but it’s a rarity given that we lack a fridge. We sometimes will ask a neighbor to keep something for us, but we eat well enough without it and I can’t say that my body misses it much. I try to keep fruit in the house—bananas, oranges, apples, and then we have the occasional watermelon, pineapple, mangoes, or strawberries. And then we’ve got papaya trees in the backyard that we eat when they’re ripe.

Ticos (Costa Ricans) have some traditional dishes, one of which is picadillo. It can be made in any number of ways. I’ve had it with unripened papayas and ground beef, only with unripened papayas, and then the one time with hearts of palm. The papayas or hearts of palm are cooked until soft and then cut into smaller pieces. The meat is cooked with consommé and onions and added to the papaya. And they use something called achiote, which is some kind of red paste. It has very little flavoring and is used mainly for coloring; for some reason, they don’t like to consume food that’s white, preferring to add achiote to pasta, potatoes, etc. The one day I cooked mashed potatoes, Diego told me the next time I should add achiote. “Potatoes are white,” I said. I don’t really understand why they see the need for this, and I can’t say that I want to eat red mashed potatoes. Maybe for Christmas.

Another traditional dish that is popular with his family his “atol de pina.” I’m not really sure how this translates into English. You start with a pineapple and remove the outer layer. You boil this in water until the water is yellow. Drain the water into a bowl through a strainer and then put back into the pot with the pineapple, which is cut into small pieces. You then add “Vitamaiz,” which looks like corn starch and is used as a thickener, but is sweet. Not sure what this is in the States. And you add sugar (a lot) to taste. This is boiled until it thickens and then eaten like a soup. Though Diego can eat five avocadoes in one day, he said if he had to choose, atol de pina is his favorite.

Now for the cost. I’ve estimated we spend about $40 a week on food (plus soap, dishwashing soap, and detergent). Every Thursday I walk to town because they have a market with fruits and vegetables, and I consistently spend 4500-5000 colones ($8.33-$9.25), usually buying two onions, a red pepper, 6-8 oranges, 6-10 bananas, apples, some avocadoes, cauliflower or broccoli (not both because we can’t eat it before it goes bad), potatoes if we need them, and occasionally strawberries or pineapple. Last week I also bought ayote, but we haven’t cooked it yet because I have to ask how. And then I lug this the ¾ a mile back to the house in my backpack. Every Saturday around noon, a truck comes by the house selling fruits and vegetables as well, and I usually buy oranges since they’re heavy and it makes more sense to buy them close to home. And then I buy broccoli when I’m not able to buy it in town. And other days, too, a truck comes by. Yesterday the truck came and we spent 5000 colones ($9.25) and bought exactly the following (and don’t ask me to compare this cost to the States because I have no idea): 20 oranges, 12 bananas, a small head of broccoli, a red pepper, and 6 potatoes.

Life continues mostly as before, though I did spend two days at work with Diego last week and once this week. On Tuesday he asked me if I wanted to come to work with him. Having wanted to go before in order to take pictures and see exactly what he does, I said I would. And then halfway there Wednesday morning at 5:30, I realized the camera was in the house! We walked about 20 minutes to work with breakfast in the backpack and machetes in hand. He works in the African palm trees and harvests the fruits that grow in them. This involves the use of a barilla, which I’ve described before as a long metal pole with a scythe on the end, and cutting down usually several branches as well as 1-4 bunches of fruits that grow in each tree. My job was to dispose of the branches he cut down. The large part that is closest to the tree has spines sticking out of it and is very hard, making it dangerous for both people and the horses and cattle that, so this part much be cut off and placed into a pile. And then I had to make sure that the area directly around the tree is clear of any branches so that it’s ready for the next harvest. (It takes about 8 days before the tree is ready again.) At times I was able to cut the branches with one hack of the machete; other times I needed a lot more. After five hours, with one break for breakfast and another quick break for coffee, I was in need of a shower and a bed. I was exhausted and it was all I could do to walk back home. He does this every day, six days a week, I thought. But with my help, he made more than double. He is paid by the number of fruits he cuts, not by the hours he works. He has a quota to meet every day, and the quote depends on the height of the trees. In the tallest sections of the palms he has to cut 85 to receive pay for 8 hours of work (even if this only takes 3 hours); in the smallest sections of the palms he has to cut 240 to receive the same pay. If he cuts more than the quota, then the quota for the second set is smaller. For example, Wednesday, he needed to cut 95 for 8 hours of work. He needed to cut another 75 for an additional 8 hours of work. We cut 170 that day.

Since I had left my camera, I decided I would go another day, but Thursday is market day, so I couldn’t go that day. And Friday I couldn’t drag my butt out of bed. So it was Saturday. And once again, I realized halfway there that the camera was still in the house. This day seemed much harder, maybe because I was still sore, or maybe because a branch fell on my arm and gave me 11 huge scratches. Or maybe because we had to walk more. Not sure, but again, I was dead on my feet, though we earned 16 hours of pay again. I couldn’t go today because I needed to wash clothes and go to the store. I told him I couldn’t work with him and do these things because I’d be too exhausted. He arrived home at 10:15 after having earned 16 hours of pay in less than 4 hours. (And then proceeded to go to the store for me because we knew that the weight of the items we needed would be easier for him to carry.) I’m sure the method of payment sounds pretty good—a few hours of work and being paid for a lot more. But then I ask you to consider if you’d want to do this work for $1.60 an hour. Yeah, didn’t think so. And consider that some parts of the palms aren’t as easy as others, and he may have to cut down five branches just to get to one fruit.

Last weekend we wanted to get away. I offered two locales with which I was familiar: Monteverde (to do a canopy tour) and La Fortuna (to go to the hot springs). He asked me which was less dangerous, and so it was to La Fortuna we went. We left Saturday around 11:00 in a rented car and headed first to Puntarenas where he has family. We stopped in at the house of his aunt and uncle where, of course, we ate. Remember, it doesn’t matter if you show up unannounced. Oh, and did I mention he also took a shower? Hey, it’s family. We stayed there for about an hour making conversation before heading out to La Fortuna, arriving at about 7:00. We quickly checked into a hotel, grabbed our swimsuits, and made the short drive to Baldi Hot Springs. Dinner first and then about 90 minutes of hanging out in the thermal waters was just what we needed. I was completely and utterly relaxed afterward, and my fingers and toes were prunes.

We intended to get up early to make the hike to Arenal Volcano, but were unable. When we did get up around 9 it was raining, so we grabbed breakfast. It had cleared a bit by then, so we went to the La Fortuna waterfall and had a quick dip in freezing waters. We made what we thought was going to be a quick trip to an Internet café, but it ended up being longer since it was pouring rain. The rain eventually subsided a bit, and we decided to drive up to the trailhead to see what the weather was like. We were told it was completely cloud-covered and we wouldn’t see a thing, so instead we diverted to a small town close by, ate lunch, played some hands of Uno in the car, and then when we saw the slightest bit of sun, headed back to the trailhead. What the hell, we thought. So we set out on a muddy trail, and I immediately regretted not having taken my Teva sandals. He refused to let me go in flip flops, so he gave me his shoes, and he went barefoot the whole way—incredibly typical. (In fact, when we had checked into the hotel the day before he had started to put on his shoes first, but I told him to go barefoot because then they’d known he was a true Tico and he’d probably get a better rate. We had already decided he would be the one to ask about the room because we knew the rate would be cheaper for him.) After an hour or so of hiking, mostly uphill, we arrived at the viewpoint and saw . . . clouds. And more clouds. And more clouds. We sat for a bit, listening, and we could hear the eruptions, but we saw nothing. Another day, I suppose. By the time we started back it was late, and the drive seemed to take a lot longer in the dark. We arrived back home close to 11:00 that night after about 6 hours of driving. But it was a trip well worth taking. And it was definitely nice to show a Tico more of his own country.