It’s hard to believe that more than a month has passed since I arrived back in Silencio to live. In that time, we’ve had a considerable number of diversions/activities. As soon as I arrived, Diego let me know that some of the guys wanted to rent a car for the weekend and go to Brujo, a small town located in the mountains inland. They would pay for the car and the gas as well as our food; they simply needed someone who could provide a credit card for the rental (me) and someone to chauffeur (Diego). As a result, one weekend we crammed eight people into a Montero that is really only equipped to hold five. And at times, when we were riding short distances, we had additional people hanging on to the side of the car for a grand total of 10 people. (There were photos as evidence of this, but Diego’s youngest brother inadvertently erased all of my photos on the camera before I had downloaded them. Yeah, he won’t be playing with my camera anymore!) It was a fun weekend, though I was sick the entire time with a cold I had come down with. I was getting only about three hours of sleep a night because I was coughing incessantly. I had gone to the pharmacy that Saturday morning before we left and received an injection, but it didn’t seem to make any difference.
When we arrived back in Silencio on Sunday night and didn’t have to return the car until Monday, Diego and his family decided they were taking me to the hospital. I had been coughing so hard I had thrown up at times and he simply refused to tolerate any more. In the hospital I received an IV with one medicine and then three treatments through an oxygen mask. And they sent me home with more pills. I wasn’t feeling any better, but we were all hungry and there happened to be a fair in Quepos. And once again, when you have a car, you take advantage of the fact that you have one. So Diego, his sister, her boyfriend, and I headed to the fair, which is much like any county fair in the state of Kentucky. Getting to eat cotton candy made me feel the tiniest bit better. It was still a few days more before I felt completely myself and before I could sleep through the night without coughing.
The next weekend we had an impromptu party at the house. We had simply been hanging out one Saturday night, playing pool in town when we were suddenly headed back to the house with several of the guys and bags of meat, yes, bags of meat. The guys set up a fire outside and Ronnie, who was once a cook in a restaurant, began to cook. And I quickly learned that here you don’t need lawn chairs—you simply move the sofa and chairs outside! The food was delicious and I consumed my fair share. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized what I ate—it was stuff that Romaldo had hunted in the mountains (an iguana, a bird, some kind of mammal that when described sounded like a big groundhog to me). It’s better I didn’t know what I was eating!
The next weekend we found ourselves doing the mountain trip again, the same number of guys, but with some changes. This time we headed in the same general direction but stopped in Llano, the town just prior to Brujo. We arrived and within minutes were headed to the house of someone they knew so that we could all shower and change. Then it was back to the dance. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes later when Diego decided we needed to head to Brujo to arrange our lodging for the night (in the same place as before). That was when we discovered no one had the keys. One of the boys had borrowed them and with the light of a cell phone we could see that they were lying on the backseat. One of the guys who felt responsible (not the one who locked the keys in but the one who gave the keys to the guy who DID lock the keys in) was ready to break one of the small windows and pay for the cost of repairing it, but I was convinced, as was Diego, that someone would be able to open it. To ensure we had a place to sleep for the night, Diego headed off on a motorcycle to Brujo with a friend, and it was my job to ensure that no one broke the window.
We waited for a bit and then some of they guys who lived there decided to try and open it with a piece of wire (um, yeah, I kind of had that idea but lacked the wire . . .) and set about trying to open it. I remarked to more than one person that guys always like challenges and I was convinced they would open the door. Of course, I didn’t expect the electricity to go out shortly after they started either. I had two flashlights—in the car! Luckily someone else who lived there had a flashlight, so the guys continued to work. On more than one occasion I stood between Ronnie and the window he wanted to break insisting that he couldn’t. Diego arrived about an hour later, remarking that they had had a wreck on the motorcycle (unhurt fortunately). Another 30 minutes later we were all on the verge of breaking the window when one of the guys was successful. Nevermind that when the electricity went out the dance was over, and hence the party. Welcome to Central America! Instead, we made what seemed like an intensely long trip on a road that can barely be considered a road to buy beer and then hung out at someone’s house for a while. The next day the guys played a pickup game of soccer before we watched an actual game and headed back to Silencio.
The following Monday I returned the car in Quepos in the morning and caught a few minutes on the Internet while I was there. I was surprised to see Kirsten show up, a friend from Germany who I met in Silencio back in November. And then I was surprised when she showed up in Silencio that night as well. She had managed to get a ride out in order to spend a few hours; it was her that was surprised when her ride left her stranded. She ended up staying with us that night, which was to her benefit since Silencio was having a bull-riding event that afternoon that she wanted to see.
On the road just outside Silencio is a corral, and some of the men had set it up with a loading gate and had rounded up all the bulls. Anyone who wanted to ride did. I was enjoying it immensely and taking lots of photos until a boy of 16 was dragged by the bull because his boot was caught in the rope. I was terrified. No less than 10 men jumped into the corral to try to free him and the boy’s father actually stood in front of the bull and was run over in an attempt to slow it down so that they could free him. He was eventually freed after about 20-30 seconds (that felt like minutes) and was remarkably unhurt. After that, though, the event continued as if nothing had happened, other than that Diego looked at me and said, “I’m not going to ride.” He had wanted to before that incident (though I don’t think he was actually going to anyway).
The following afternoon, Monday, when Diego was in Quepos, a girl came to the house and told me that I needed to call Diego, not an easy feat when he has the cell phone. I was less than enthused about making the walk at 3 in the afternoon (in 100 degree heat, did I mention that?) to town, but I did, only to find that the public telephones weren’t working. I borrowed a phone from my Tica mother and called.
Diego had run into Kirsten who wanted to rent a car for her last couple of nights in Costa Rica, but she couldn’t with her credit card. Enter me, of course. Transportation is always an issue, but I’m learning to navigate. I headed to Diego’s parents’ house to see if I could get a ride with his father on the motorcycle (Mom, you didn’t read that!). I had to wait for about 15 minutes before he arrived and when he did, he said, “Let’s go. The bus passes the bridge at 4:00.” It was 3:36 and I still had to go to the house because I didn’t have my passport, credit cards, etc. When we reached the center of town, we saw a friend of Diego’s who was headed back to Quepos in his car and I begged a ride. So little more than an hour after Diego sent word for me, I was in Quepos and we were renting the car for Kirsten.
Tuesday night she stayed with us and I hitched a ride to Quepos with her that morning because I had discovered that my income tax return had been rejected. Not a big deal if I had an infinite amount of money. Since I don’t, I needed to take care of this as soon as possible. Two phone calls to the IRS, four phone calls to my mother, and a refile hopefully fixed the problem and within two weeks I should be feeling a little more financially secure. Of late, we’ve been keeping track of our spending because it seems like the money is disappearing faster than it should. A few thousand colones here, a few thousand colones there. Most everything that we buy is inexpensive, but keeping food in the house is difficult. I buy a package of crackers and they last two days if we’re lucky. Diego said, but they’re inexpensive (yes, less than $1US), but not if you’re buying 4-5 packages a week.
I’ve been learning to cook, a little at a time. I’m now proficient at cooking plantains five different ways. I’ve learned to cook cauliflower with eggs two different ways. I learned to cook atol de pina, which is a sweet, thick liquid with pineapple—a dessert of sorts. I’m learning picadillo, which is made with green papayas. Diego’s mom taught me to make tortillas. I’m learning to cook rice without burning it, which has proven to be the most difficult for me. I bought a pressure cooker in order to cook beans. And with rice and beans I can make the traditional gallo pinto for breakfast. Of late, I’ve been getting up at 5:00 to make coffee and pack breakfast for Diego, and then I go back to bed. I figure it’s a sacrifice I can make since he has to work all morning in 100 degree heat (did I mention that already?).
This week his kids are staying with us. It’s the week of Easter, which is a big holiday here, resulting in no school for one week. Sunday we returned from the river where we spent time with his family and were simply hanging out, playing games on the computer when we heard voices outside. He said, “My kids.” It was a surprise for him that they showed up on Sunday (he expected them on Monday). It was a surprise for me that they showed up at all since I didn’t realize they were coming. Another one of those things he apparently told me that I didn’t hear or didn’t understand. Or maybe he thinks he told me but didn’t. At any rate, this week I’m not only a housewife but a surrogate mother as well. My life just keeps getting stranger.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Life as a Tica
It’s hard to believe that more than a month has passed since I arrived back in Silencio to live. In that time, we’ve had a considerable number of diversions/activities. As soon as I arrived, Diego let me know that some of the guys wanted to rent a car for the weekend and go to Brujo, a small town located in the mountains inland. They would pay for the car and the gas as well as our food; they simply needed someone who could provide a credit card for the rental (me) and someone to chauffeur (Diego). As a result, one weekend we crammed eight people into a Montero that is really only equipped to hold five. And at times, when we were riding short distances, we had additional people hanging on to the side of the car for a grand total of 10 people. (There were photos as evidence of this, but Diego’s youngest brother inadvertently erased all of my photos on the camera before I had downloaded them. Yeah, he won’t be playing with my camera anymore!) It was a fun weekend, though I was sick the entire time with a cold I had come down with. I was getting only about three hours of sleep a night because I was coughing incessantly. I had gone to the pharmacy that Saturday morning before we left and received an injection, but it didn’t seem to make any difference.
When we arrived back in Silencio on Sunday night and didn’t have to return the car until Monday, Diego and his family decided they were taking me to the hospital. I had been coughing so hard I had thrown up at times and he simply refused to tolerate any more. In the hospital I received an IV with one medicine and then three treatments through an oxygen mask. And they sent me home with more pills. I wasn’t feeling any better, but we were all hungry and there happened to be a fair in Quepos. And once again, when you have a car, you take advantage of the fact that you have one. So Diego, his sister, her boyfriend, and I headed to the fair, which is much like any county fair in the state of Kentucky. Getting to eat cotton candy made me feel the tiniest bit better. It was still a few days more before I felt completely myself and before I could sleep through the night without coughing.
The next weekend we had an impromptu party at the house. We had simply been hanging out one Saturday night, playing pool in town when we were suddenly headed back to the house with several of the guys and bags of meat, yes, bags of meat. The guys set up a fire outside and Ronnie, who was once a cook in a restaurant, began to cook. And I quickly learned that here you don’t need lawn chairs—you simply move the sofa and chairs outside! The food was delicious and I consumed my fair share. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized what I ate—it was stuff that Romaldo had hunted in the mountains (an iguana, a bird, some kind of mammal that when described sounded like a big groundhog to me). It’s better I didn’t know what I was eating!
The next weekend we found ourselves doing the mountain trip again, the same number of guys, but with some changes. This time we headed in the same general direction but stopped in Llano, the town just prior to Brujo. We arrived and within minutes were headed to the house of someone they knew so that we could all shower and change. Then it was back to the dance. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes later when Diego decided we needed to head to Brujo to arrange our lodging for the night (in the same place as before). That was when we discovered no one had the keys. One of the boys had borrowed them and with the light of a cell phone we could see that they were lying on the backseat. One of the guys who felt responsible (not the one who locked the keys in but the one who gave the keys to the guy who DID lock the keys in) was ready to break one of the small windows and pay for the cost of repairing it, but I was convinced, as was Diego, that someone would be able to open it. To ensure we had a place to sleep for the night, Diego headed off on a motorcycle to Brujo with a friend, and it was my job to ensure that no one broke the window.
We waited for a bit and then some of they guys who lived there decided to try and open it with a piece of wire (um, yeah, I kind of had that idea but lacked the wire . . .) and set about trying to open it. I remarked to more than one person that guys always like challenges and I was convinced they would open the door. Of course, I didn’t expect the electricity to go out shortly after they started either. I had two flashlights—in the car! Luckily someone else who lived there had a flashlight, so the guys continued to work. On more than one occasion I stood between Ronnie and the window he wanted to break insisting that he couldn’t. Diego arrived about an hour later, remarking that they had had a wreck on the motorcycle (unhurt fortunately). Another 30 minutes later we were all on the verge of breaking the window when one of the guys was successful. Nevermind that when the electricity went out the dance was over, and hence the party. Welcome to Central America! Instead, we made what seemed like an intensely long trip on a road that can barely be considered a road to buy beer and then hung out at someone’s house for a while. The next day the guys played a pickup game of soccer before we watched an actual game and headed back to Silencio.
The following Monday I returned the car in Quepos in the morning and caught a few minutes on the Internet while I was there. I was surprised to see Kirsten show up, a friend from Germany who I met in Silencio back in November. And then I was surprised when she showed up in Silencio that night as well. She had managed to get a ride out in order to spend a few hours; it was her that was surprised when her ride left her stranded. She ended up staying with us that night, which was to her benefit since Silencio was having a bull-riding event that afternoon that she wanted to see.
On the road just outside Silencio is a corral, and some of the men had set it up with a loading gate and had rounded up all the bulls. Anyone who wanted to ride did. I was enjoying it immensely and taking lots of photos until a boy of 16 was dragged by the bull because his boot was caught in the rope. I was terrified. No less than 10 men jumped into the corral to try to free him and the boy’s father actually stood in front of the bull and was run over in an attempt to slow it down so that they could free him. He was eventually freed after about 20-30 seconds (that felt like minutes) and was remarkably unhurt. After that, though, the event continued as if nothing had happened, other than that Diego looked at me and said, “I’m not going to ride.” He had wanted to before that incident (though I don’t think he was actually going to anyway).
The following afternoon, Monday, when Diego was in Quepos, a girl came to the house and told me that I needed to call Diego, not an easy feat when he has the cell phone. I was less than enthused about making the walk at 3 in the afternoon (in 100 degree heat, did I mention that?) to town, but I did, only to find that the public telephones weren’t working. I borrowed a phone from my Tica mother and called.
Diego had run into Kirsten who wanted to rent a car for her last couple of nights in Costa Rica, but she couldn’t with her credit card. Enter me, of course. Transportation is always an issue, but I’m learning to navigate. I headed to Diego’s parents’ house to see if I could get a ride with his father on the motorcycle (Mom, you didn’t read that!). I had to wait for about 15 minutes before he arrived and when he did, he said, “Let’s go. The bus passes the bridge at 4:00.” It was 3:36 and I still had to go to the house because I didn’t have my passport, credit cards, etc. When we reached the center of town, we saw a friend of Diego’s who was headed back to Quepos in his car and I begged a ride. So little more than an hour after Diego sent word for me, I was in Quepos and we were renting the car for Kirsten.
Tuesday night she stayed with us and I hitched a ride to Quepos with her that morning because I had discovered that my income tax return had been rejected. Not a big deal if I had an infinite amount of money. Since I don’t, I needed to take care of this as soon as possible. Two phone calls to the IRS, four phone calls to my mother, and a refile hopefully fixed the problem and within two weeks I should be feeling a little more financially secure. Of late, we’ve been keeping track of our spending because it seems like the money is disappearing faster than it should. A few thousand colones here, a few thousand colones there. Most everything that we buy is inexpensive, but keeping food in the house is difficult. I buy a package of crackers and they last two days if we’re lucky. Diego said, but they’re inexpensive (yes, less than $1US), but not if you’re buying 4-5 packages a week.
I’ve been learning to cook, a little at a time. I’m now proficient at cooking plantains five different ways. I’ve learned to cook cauliflower with eggs two different ways. I learned to cook atol de pina, which is a sweet, thick liquid with pineapple—a dessert of sorts. I’m learning picadillo, which is made with green papayas. Diego’s mom taught me to make tortillas. I’m learning to cook rice without burning it, which has proven to be the most difficult for me. I bought a pressure cooker in order to cook beans. And with rice and beans I can make the traditional gallo pinto for breakfast. Of late, I’ve been getting up at 5:00 to make coffee and pack breakfast for Diego, and then I go back to bed. I figure it’s a sacrifice I can make since he has to work all morning in 100 degree heat (did I mention that already?).
This week his kids are staying with us. It’s the week of Easter, which is a big holiday here, resulting in no school for one week. Sunday we returned from the river where we spent time with his family and were simply hanging out, playing games on the computer when we heard voices outside. He said, “My kids.” It was a surprise for him that they showed up on Sunday (he expected them on Monday). It was a surprise for me that they showed up at all since I didn’t realize they were coming. Another one of those things he apparently told me that I didn’t hear or didn’t understand. Or maybe he thinks he told me but didn’t. At any rate, this week I’m not only a housewife but a surrogate mother as well. My life just keeps getting stranger.
When we arrived back in Silencio on Sunday night and didn’t have to return the car until Monday, Diego and his family decided they were taking me to the hospital. I had been coughing so hard I had thrown up at times and he simply refused to tolerate any more. In the hospital I received an IV with one medicine and then three treatments through an oxygen mask. And they sent me home with more pills. I wasn’t feeling any better, but we were all hungry and there happened to be a fair in Quepos. And once again, when you have a car, you take advantage of the fact that you have one. So Diego, his sister, her boyfriend, and I headed to the fair, which is much like any county fair in the state of Kentucky. Getting to eat cotton candy made me feel the tiniest bit better. It was still a few days more before I felt completely myself and before I could sleep through the night without coughing.
The next weekend we had an impromptu party at the house. We had simply been hanging out one Saturday night, playing pool in town when we were suddenly headed back to the house with several of the guys and bags of meat, yes, bags of meat. The guys set up a fire outside and Ronnie, who was once a cook in a restaurant, began to cook. And I quickly learned that here you don’t need lawn chairs—you simply move the sofa and chairs outside! The food was delicious and I consumed my fair share. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized what I ate—it was stuff that Romaldo had hunted in the mountains (an iguana, a bird, some kind of mammal that when described sounded like a big groundhog to me). It’s better I didn’t know what I was eating!
The next weekend we found ourselves doing the mountain trip again, the same number of guys, but with some changes. This time we headed in the same general direction but stopped in Llano, the town just prior to Brujo. We arrived and within minutes were headed to the house of someone they knew so that we could all shower and change. Then it was back to the dance. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes later when Diego decided we needed to head to Brujo to arrange our lodging for the night (in the same place as before). That was when we discovered no one had the keys. One of the boys had borrowed them and with the light of a cell phone we could see that they were lying on the backseat. One of the guys who felt responsible (not the one who locked the keys in but the one who gave the keys to the guy who DID lock the keys in) was ready to break one of the small windows and pay for the cost of repairing it, but I was convinced, as was Diego, that someone would be able to open it. To ensure we had a place to sleep for the night, Diego headed off on a motorcycle to Brujo with a friend, and it was my job to ensure that no one broke the window.
We waited for a bit and then some of they guys who lived there decided to try and open it with a piece of wire (um, yeah, I kind of had that idea but lacked the wire . . .) and set about trying to open it. I remarked to more than one person that guys always like challenges and I was convinced they would open the door. Of course, I didn’t expect the electricity to go out shortly after they started either. I had two flashlights—in the car! Luckily someone else who lived there had a flashlight, so the guys continued to work. On more than one occasion I stood between Ronnie and the window he wanted to break insisting that he couldn’t. Diego arrived about an hour later, remarking that they had had a wreck on the motorcycle (unhurt fortunately). Another 30 minutes later we were all on the verge of breaking the window when one of the guys was successful. Nevermind that when the electricity went out the dance was over, and hence the party. Welcome to Central America! Instead, we made what seemed like an intensely long trip on a road that can barely be considered a road to buy beer and then hung out at someone’s house for a while. The next day the guys played a pickup game of soccer before we watched an actual game and headed back to Silencio.
The following Monday I returned the car in Quepos in the morning and caught a few minutes on the Internet while I was there. I was surprised to see Kirsten show up, a friend from Germany who I met in Silencio back in November. And then I was surprised when she showed up in Silencio that night as well. She had managed to get a ride out in order to spend a few hours; it was her that was surprised when her ride left her stranded. She ended up staying with us that night, which was to her benefit since Silencio was having a bull-riding event that afternoon that she wanted to see.
On the road just outside Silencio is a corral, and some of the men had set it up with a loading gate and had rounded up all the bulls. Anyone who wanted to ride did. I was enjoying it immensely and taking lots of photos until a boy of 16 was dragged by the bull because his boot was caught in the rope. I was terrified. No less than 10 men jumped into the corral to try to free him and the boy’s father actually stood in front of the bull and was run over in an attempt to slow it down so that they could free him. He was eventually freed after about 20-30 seconds (that felt like minutes) and was remarkably unhurt. After that, though, the event continued as if nothing had happened, other than that Diego looked at me and said, “I’m not going to ride.” He had wanted to before that incident (though I don’t think he was actually going to anyway).
The following afternoon, Monday, when Diego was in Quepos, a girl came to the house and told me that I needed to call Diego, not an easy feat when he has the cell phone. I was less than enthused about making the walk at 3 in the afternoon (in 100 degree heat, did I mention that?) to town, but I did, only to find that the public telephones weren’t working. I borrowed a phone from my Tica mother and called.
Diego had run into Kirsten who wanted to rent a car for her last couple of nights in Costa Rica, but she couldn’t with her credit card. Enter me, of course. Transportation is always an issue, but I’m learning to navigate. I headed to Diego’s parents’ house to see if I could get a ride with his father on the motorcycle (Mom, you didn’t read that!). I had to wait for about 15 minutes before he arrived and when he did, he said, “Let’s go. The bus passes the bridge at 4:00.” It was 3:36 and I still had to go to the house because I didn’t have my passport, credit cards, etc. When we reached the center of town, we saw a friend of Diego’s who was headed back to Quepos in his car and I begged a ride. So little more than an hour after Diego sent word for me, I was in Quepos and we were renting the car for Kirsten.
Tuesday night she stayed with us and I hitched a ride to Quepos with her that morning because I had discovered that my income tax return had been rejected. Not a big deal if I had an infinite amount of money. Since I don’t, I needed to take care of this as soon as possible. Two phone calls to the IRS, four phone calls to my mother, and a refile hopefully fixed the problem and within two weeks I should be feeling a little more financially secure. Of late, we’ve been keeping track of our spending because it seems like the money is disappearing faster than it should. A few thousand colones here, a few thousand colones there. Most everything that we buy is inexpensive, but keeping food in the house is difficult. I buy a package of crackers and they last two days if we’re lucky. Diego said, but they’re inexpensive (yes, less than $1US), but not if you’re buying 4-5 packages a week.
I’ve been learning to cook, a little at a time. I’m now proficient at cooking plantains five different ways. I’ve learned to cook cauliflower with eggs two different ways. I learned to cook atol de pina, which is a sweet, thick liquid with pineapple—a dessert of sorts. I’m learning picadillo, which is made with green papayas. Diego’s mom taught me to make tortillas. I’m learning to cook rice without burning it, which has proven to be the most difficult for me. I bought a pressure cooker in order to cook beans. And with rice and beans I can make the traditional gallo pinto for breakfast. Of late, I’ve been getting up at 5:00 to make coffee and pack breakfast for Diego, and then I go back to bed. I figure it’s a sacrifice I can make since he has to work all morning in 100 degree heat (did I mention that already?).
This week his kids are staying with us. It’s the week of Easter, which is a big holiday here, resulting in no school for one week. Sunday we returned from the river where we spent time with his family and were simply hanging out, playing games on the computer when we heard voices outside. He said, “My kids.” It was a surprise for him that they showed up on Sunday (he expected them on Monday). It was a surprise for me that they showed up at all since I didn’t realize they were coming. Another one of those things he apparently told me that I didn’t hear or didn’t understand. Or maybe he thinks he told me but didn’t. At any rate, this week I’m not only a housewife but a surrogate mother as well. My life just keeps getting stranger.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Local Life in Costa Rica
After what felt like a whirlwind visit to the States, I arrived back in Costa Rica on Saturday, 30 minutes early. You go, pilot! Diego picked me up in what he called a turtle--a really slow pickup truck. Slow enough that we didn't arrive back in Silencio until 9:30 that night. I had gotten up that morning at 2 a.m. (Costa Rica time), so the day was a long one, but I was glad to be back. Since then I've been living the life of a local, well, minus the actual job.
All is pretty routine. Diego works in the morning, so I sleep in until about 9 when I'm able, meaning when the dogs and the roosters and the neighbor's music don't force me up earlier than that. We cook (yes, I'm learning to cook), we clean, we do laundry, we go to the store, we watch movies, play pool, video games, read, etc. It's a pretty lazy life for me, and I'm enjoying it immensely. I would enjoy it more if I weren't sick with a cold and coughing half the day and all of the night. The over the counter drugs are helping, though, so I should be well by the weekend.
I have two teaching projects currently: teaching Diego English (he's quite a lazy student!) and training Mechas (our puppy). She's doing better than he is, I believe, probably because she enjoys it. She has learned to sit on command and has almost learned to lay down on command. If I train her before I feed her, she doesn't like to eat from the bowl, preferring to continue learning and being handfed. Diego, on the other hand, says English is too hard and doesn't like to practice. Ever the teacher, I'm starting where my student is--in this case, the first sentences he's learning involve smoking! "I want a cigarette." "I need a lighter." etc.
There are others who want to learn English as well. I helped Mango yesterday with his English homework. He had to write about a famous athlete in Costa Rica, so I helped him write a page in English about a goalkeeper for one of the Costa Rican professional soccer teams. It involved his telling me in Spanish what he wanted to say and my translating into English, oh and my prompting him with what he could say. Hmmm, I'm not sure how much he got out of that assignment. Then Ronnie asked me yesterday if I would help him learn. He speaks Spanglish and wants to learn more. We'll see. A lot of them want to learn but don't want to devote the time to it--just like most people with many things, I suppose.
What can I say except Life is Good?!
All is pretty routine. Diego works in the morning, so I sleep in until about 9 when I'm able, meaning when the dogs and the roosters and the neighbor's music don't force me up earlier than that. We cook (yes, I'm learning to cook), we clean, we do laundry, we go to the store, we watch movies, play pool, video games, read, etc. It's a pretty lazy life for me, and I'm enjoying it immensely. I would enjoy it more if I weren't sick with a cold and coughing half the day and all of the night. The over the counter drugs are helping, though, so I should be well by the weekend.
I have two teaching projects currently: teaching Diego English (he's quite a lazy student!) and training Mechas (our puppy). She's doing better than he is, I believe, probably because she enjoys it. She has learned to sit on command and has almost learned to lay down on command. If I train her before I feed her, she doesn't like to eat from the bowl, preferring to continue learning and being handfed. Diego, on the other hand, says English is too hard and doesn't like to practice. Ever the teacher, I'm starting where my student is--in this case, the first sentences he's learning involve smoking! "I want a cigarette." "I need a lighter." etc.
There are others who want to learn English as well. I helped Mango yesterday with his English homework. He had to write about a famous athlete in Costa Rica, so I helped him write a page in English about a goalkeeper for one of the Costa Rican professional soccer teams. It involved his telling me in Spanish what he wanted to say and my translating into English, oh and my prompting him with what he could say. Hmmm, I'm not sure how much he got out of that assignment. Then Ronnie asked me yesterday if I would help him learn. He speaks Spanglish and wants to learn more. We'll see. A lot of them want to learn but don't want to devote the time to it--just like most people with many things, I suppose.
What can I say except Life is Good?!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Life in the States
The trip back to the States has been eventful to say the least. After spending part of one day with my mother, she went in for surgery, a 10.5 hour surgery. That 17 hours we spent at the hospital were definitely some of the longest of my life. When they called for a Code Blue that night on the recovery room floor where we were sitting waiting to see Mom after her surgery had ended, I refused to even contemplate that it would be her. Thankfully for us, it wasn’t, but unfortunately for another family it was. I’ll never forget the sound of the woman screaming after she was told her husband had just died. We had spent all day hoping that the surgery would go well, and when the doctors came to see us at 7 p.m. to say all had went well, we had all breathed a huge sigh of relief. Hearing that woman screaming, as well as hearing from her daughter that the mom had simply collapsed after hearing the news, was a reminder that even after the surgery they are incredibly fragile and susceptible to complications. Nonetheless, I knew that Mom would be fine. When I left for Connecticut last Monday, she was still in the open heart recovery on a ventilator and unconscious, but the prognosis was good. I felt comfortable leaving her, knowing that when I returned she would be awake, walking, and maybe even at home.
I set out for Connecticut in my brother’s Jeep pulling an empty trailer. Fourteen hours later I pulled in at Dawn’s house, a very welcome sight. Exhausted, I slept 6.5 hours without waking up even once, something I haven’t done in probably at least a year if not more. I dug through my storage unit the next morning looking for my cold weather clothing. I was numb by the time I finished. Dawn and I spent the evening at Michelle’s house, and clearly I have forgotten how to walk in winter because I hit an icy patch and went down—saved the wine from hitting the ground though.
Wednesday I spent the day at Big Picture High School, even going to the staff meeting, which is a lot less painful when you don’t have anything invested in it. I met Sandy for dinner at Loomis Chaffee school, where she works, and then headed over to her house where I was to spend two nights. I had lunch with a friend Thursday at Panera and finally got that chicken chipotle sandwich and cup of broccoli cheddar soup I had been missing. (Surprising, I’ve found that now that I’m here, the idea of eating all that food I was missing just doesn’t do it for me. Other than the Krispy Kreme donuts and the Tim Tams because those are my crack!) Another free dinner Thursday night with Sandy had me feeling like a charity case, but I’m learning to embrace it.
Friday afternoon I met the old BPHS gang for happy hour and then we followed that up with karaoke at The Fly in West Hartford. It was nice to have a better song selection since the selection in Silencio in English is quite limited. However, I did feel a little unprepared when I saw one guy bring out his own microphone! Seriously . . . who brings their own mic to karaoke?!
Saturday I cleaned out the storage unit and loaded the trailer, which proved to be more of an adventure than I bargained for. At one point I wanted to just leave the trailer somewhere filled with my stuff. That or just give everything away that wouldn’t fit in the Jeep. Luckily, Jen knew how to put air in car tires (yes, I’m admitting I didn’t know how to do that), and I felt somewhat more comfortable after that. And I felt even more comfortable after we sat under the sleeping bag at Dawn’s house to warm up. Cause you know, it had only been like 10 degrees that morning considering the wind chill. I have no idea how I will ever make it up to Dawn, Mike, and Jen for their help that morning.
Jen and I met Erika for a late lunch. Then we played the Wii at Julie’s house after she cooked dinner. Yes, another free dinner. It was an awesome evening with wonderful, generous, loving friends, some of whom really, really want to come visit me this summer. Jen said to me at one point, “You have awesome friends.” I couldn’t agree more. I’ve realized that while there isn’t a whole lot about the States that I miss (food, places, etc.), what I have missed is the wonderful interactions with my family and friends. I’ve had lots of really good belly laughs while I’ve been here.
SuperBowl Sunday . . . well, maybe we just shouldn’t even talk about that other than to say it could’ve ended better.
And then Monday I left Dawn’s house at 6:30 a.m. for the long, long drive back to Kentucky, this time pulling a full trailer. I was surprised to find that the trailer rode so easily behind the Jeep that I actually forgot it was there when I was cruising down the Interstate and not changing lanes. And since we had aired up the tires, it barely used more gas than it had going up, which tells me I could’ve saved a little bit of gas money had I aired them up before I left. Oh, well, live and learn, right? I rolled into my parents’ house 14.5 hours later—not a bad time actually. I fell into bed shortly thereafter. Who would think that sitting in a car all day could make one so tired? It was really just the stress of it all, really, and now that it’s parked in my parents’ driveway, I feel like I can at least breathe a small sigh of relief.
This morning my dad and I could not be deterred by the 4-5 inches of snow that had fallen. I hadn’t seen my mom for a week and what’s a little snow. My mom looks wonderful. She was coming out of the bathroom as we arrived, so I was able to see just how much she had improved since I left a week ago—saw a few other things, too, given the openness of hospital gowns! She went for a walk this afternoon of 300 feet, and though she was completely exhausted afterward, she did it. Her biggest challenge at this point, in my opinion, is her roommate who has a complaint for everything, even when nobody is listening. At one point I had to intervene between her and my dad who were arguing. An hour later I was wishing I had let him go at her because even though he may not be the healthiest person alive, I think he could take her and I wish he would. I’m not a violent person, but I doubt there’s a single person on staff on the 8th floor at this hospital who would turn me in if I held a pillow over this woman’s face. Where is Dr. Kevorkian when you need him?
I set out for Connecticut in my brother’s Jeep pulling an empty trailer. Fourteen hours later I pulled in at Dawn’s house, a very welcome sight. Exhausted, I slept 6.5 hours without waking up even once, something I haven’t done in probably at least a year if not more. I dug through my storage unit the next morning looking for my cold weather clothing. I was numb by the time I finished. Dawn and I spent the evening at Michelle’s house, and clearly I have forgotten how to walk in winter because I hit an icy patch and went down—saved the wine from hitting the ground though.
Wednesday I spent the day at Big Picture High School, even going to the staff meeting, which is a lot less painful when you don’t have anything invested in it. I met Sandy for dinner at Loomis Chaffee school, where she works, and then headed over to her house where I was to spend two nights. I had lunch with a friend Thursday at Panera and finally got that chicken chipotle sandwich and cup of broccoli cheddar soup I had been missing. (Surprising, I’ve found that now that I’m here, the idea of eating all that food I was missing just doesn’t do it for me. Other than the Krispy Kreme donuts and the Tim Tams because those are my crack!) Another free dinner Thursday night with Sandy had me feeling like a charity case, but I’m learning to embrace it.
Friday afternoon I met the old BPHS gang for happy hour and then we followed that up with karaoke at The Fly in West Hartford. It was nice to have a better song selection since the selection in Silencio in English is quite limited. However, I did feel a little unprepared when I saw one guy bring out his own microphone! Seriously . . . who brings their own mic to karaoke?!
Saturday I cleaned out the storage unit and loaded the trailer, which proved to be more of an adventure than I bargained for. At one point I wanted to just leave the trailer somewhere filled with my stuff. That or just give everything away that wouldn’t fit in the Jeep. Luckily, Jen knew how to put air in car tires (yes, I’m admitting I didn’t know how to do that), and I felt somewhat more comfortable after that. And I felt even more comfortable after we sat under the sleeping bag at Dawn’s house to warm up. Cause you know, it had only been like 10 degrees that morning considering the wind chill. I have no idea how I will ever make it up to Dawn, Mike, and Jen for their help that morning.
Jen and I met Erika for a late lunch. Then we played the Wii at Julie’s house after she cooked dinner. Yes, another free dinner. It was an awesome evening with wonderful, generous, loving friends, some of whom really, really want to come visit me this summer. Jen said to me at one point, “You have awesome friends.” I couldn’t agree more. I’ve realized that while there isn’t a whole lot about the States that I miss (food, places, etc.), what I have missed is the wonderful interactions with my family and friends. I’ve had lots of really good belly laughs while I’ve been here.
SuperBowl Sunday . . . well, maybe we just shouldn’t even talk about that other than to say it could’ve ended better.
And then Monday I left Dawn’s house at 6:30 a.m. for the long, long drive back to Kentucky, this time pulling a full trailer. I was surprised to find that the trailer rode so easily behind the Jeep that I actually forgot it was there when I was cruising down the Interstate and not changing lanes. And since we had aired up the tires, it barely used more gas than it had going up, which tells me I could’ve saved a little bit of gas money had I aired them up before I left. Oh, well, live and learn, right? I rolled into my parents’ house 14.5 hours later—not a bad time actually. I fell into bed shortly thereafter. Who would think that sitting in a car all day could make one so tired? It was really just the stress of it all, really, and now that it’s parked in my parents’ driveway, I feel like I can at least breathe a small sigh of relief.
This morning my dad and I could not be deterred by the 4-5 inches of snow that had fallen. I hadn’t seen my mom for a week and what’s a little snow. My mom looks wonderful. She was coming out of the bathroom as we arrived, so I was able to see just how much she had improved since I left a week ago—saw a few other things, too, given the openness of hospital gowns! She went for a walk this afternoon of 300 feet, and though she was completely exhausted afterward, she did it. Her biggest challenge at this point, in my opinion, is her roommate who has a complaint for everything, even when nobody is listening. At one point I had to intervene between her and my dad who were arguing. An hour later I was wishing I had let him go at her because even though he may not be the healthiest person alive, I think he could take her and I wish he would. I’m not a violent person, but I doubt there’s a single person on staff on the 8th floor at this hospital who would turn me in if I held a pillow over this woman’s face. Where is Dr. Kevorkian when you need him?
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Back in the USA
I passed a wonderful 2+ weeks in Silencio. Spent my mornings volunteering, first in the chicken farm and then in the wildlife rescue center. Passed the afternoons napping, reading, listening to music, or watching movies. Two nights we went to Londres, a nearby town, to watch the soccer team play. The second time we were surprised to find ourselves climbing into the back of a cattle truck for the 45-50 minute ride, dodging low-hanging palm tree branches for part of the way. I couldn't help thinking, many tourists come to Costa Rica, go only to places like Manuel Antonio, and think they've seen Costa Rica, but for me you haven't seen Costa Rica until you've ridden in the back of a cattle truck with a rowdy soccer team. As if that wasn't adventurous enough, on the way back we disembarked early, crossed the river barefoot, and finished up the trip home on foot in about 20 minutes, actually much faster than it would've been in the cattle truck. Again, you haven't been to Costa Rica until you've crossed the river barefoot in the dark at 10 p.m. with only the light of a small headtorch. Good times . . .
When I first arrived back in Silencio, I knew that the trip would be brief this time. I had received word from my mother that she needed yet another heart surgery, her third. Though I was obviously disheartened to have to leave Silencio so soon after I had returned, not returning to Kentucky for this wasn't an option. My family and friends in Silencio were completely supportive and in the beginning when the news was bleak, all of them remained optimistic (in customary Tico fashion), telling me that all would be fine.
On Monday evening, a rental car at our disposal yet again, we passed time with Diego's brother and his girlfriend at Rafiki, a lodge 10 km past Silencio, very, very remote. I wanted to enjoy the final night there, and I was until we had a flat tire on the way back. The three Ticos took it completely in stride and began changing it; in typical American fashion, I worried, thinking this was a sign that bad things were going to happen. Bad luck continued the next morning in Quepos when we headed to the first place to repair the tire and they wanted $24. I think not, especially not when it isn't even my car. We finally were able to resolve things at the rental car facility and set out for San Jose to the airport for another difficult goodbye.
My flight schedule was less than ideal--a 13-hour layover in Charlotte, North Carolina. I was fortunate enough to be returning with a sleeping bag that I had planned to leave at my parents' house as I've not needed it. I definitely needed it when I bedded down in baggage claim that night. I slept surprisingly well considering the location.
For now, I'm back in Kentucky and sitting at the hospital. My mother is currently in surgery and so far all is going well. I'll be here until Sunday when I head to Connecticut for a week. I need to retrieve my belongings that are in storage. (Currently involved in a discussion about how best to do that, what vehicle will pull the trailer, whether or not it will all fit, etc., etc.) While I'm looking forward to seeing all my friends in CT, I'm definitely not looking forward to an extremely long drive there and back, especially pulling a trailer. After I return to Kentucky, I'll be here until February 20 when I head back for the third time to Silencio to live.
Not enjoying the cold weather here in the States, but passing the time with friends will make it more tolerable. Really want to see all my friends while I'm here. Check on facebook for the status update with my phone number for the next three weeks.
When I first arrived back in Silencio, I knew that the trip would be brief this time. I had received word from my mother that she needed yet another heart surgery, her third. Though I was obviously disheartened to have to leave Silencio so soon after I had returned, not returning to Kentucky for this wasn't an option. My family and friends in Silencio were completely supportive and in the beginning when the news was bleak, all of them remained optimistic (in customary Tico fashion), telling me that all would be fine.
On Monday evening, a rental car at our disposal yet again, we passed time with Diego's brother and his girlfriend at Rafiki, a lodge 10 km past Silencio, very, very remote. I wanted to enjoy the final night there, and I was until we had a flat tire on the way back. The three Ticos took it completely in stride and began changing it; in typical American fashion, I worried, thinking this was a sign that bad things were going to happen. Bad luck continued the next morning in Quepos when we headed to the first place to repair the tire and they wanted $24. I think not, especially not when it isn't even my car. We finally were able to resolve things at the rental car facility and set out for San Jose to the airport for another difficult goodbye.
My flight schedule was less than ideal--a 13-hour layover in Charlotte, North Carolina. I was fortunate enough to be returning with a sleeping bag that I had planned to leave at my parents' house as I've not needed it. I definitely needed it when I bedded down in baggage claim that night. I slept surprisingly well considering the location.
For now, I'm back in Kentucky and sitting at the hospital. My mother is currently in surgery and so far all is going well. I'll be here until Sunday when I head to Connecticut for a week. I need to retrieve my belongings that are in storage. (Currently involved in a discussion about how best to do that, what vehicle will pull the trailer, whether or not it will all fit, etc., etc.) While I'm looking forward to seeing all my friends in CT, I'm definitely not looking forward to an extremely long drive there and back, especially pulling a trailer. After I return to Kentucky, I'll be here until February 20 when I head back for the third time to Silencio to live.
Not enjoying the cold weather here in the States, but passing the time with friends will make it more tolerable. Really want to see all my friends while I'm here. Check on facebook for the status update with my phone number for the next three weeks.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
¨Sometimes you wanna go . . .
. . . where everybody knows your name, and they´re always glad you came.¨
There´s nothing like a homecoming. During a conversation with Diego Tuesday at lunchtime, we decided why not pass the evening in Silencio. So it was that I found myself on the bus that afternoon and of course ran into a Silencio native who told me I was the absolute last person he expected to see in the bus. I saw most of my friends and family that evening after I arrived, and there truly is nothing like a homecoming. Everyone DID know my name and everyone was glad I came, including me.
And then I surprised them all again (except Diego who had some sixth sense) by showing up Thursday to live again even though I had just told them all I´d be back Friday. It was an excellent decision as there was a huge party that night in the albergue. A group of Americans had been there for a couple of days and were leaving Friday. Of course, Silencio knows how to capitalize on the presence of a bunch of young Americans--throw them a party with lots of American music and sell them alcohol!
This trip to Silencio is a brief one, I believe, as I need to return to the States for a brief visit soon. And because of that I want to enjoy it as much as possible. Rented a car yesterday for the weekend, which makes it so much easier to come and go as I please. Diego, his brother and I went to the pool in Santo Domingo. Were the only ones there. And then later he, a friend, and I came to Quepos to spend a little time with his other brother and hang out at a bar where there was some really, really bad Spanish karaoke. Today I´ve popped into Quepos to hopefully pick up my package from Mom (which will finally allow me to download some more pics), and then Diego and I are heading to the beach.
For now I´m simply trying to enjoy every moment that I have and spend it with people who know my name (even if I don´t always know theirs) and are glad I came.
There´s nothing like a homecoming. During a conversation with Diego Tuesday at lunchtime, we decided why not pass the evening in Silencio. So it was that I found myself on the bus that afternoon and of course ran into a Silencio native who told me I was the absolute last person he expected to see in the bus. I saw most of my friends and family that evening after I arrived, and there truly is nothing like a homecoming. Everyone DID know my name and everyone was glad I came, including me.
And then I surprised them all again (except Diego who had some sixth sense) by showing up Thursday to live again even though I had just told them all I´d be back Friday. It was an excellent decision as there was a huge party that night in the albergue. A group of Americans had been there for a couple of days and were leaving Friday. Of course, Silencio knows how to capitalize on the presence of a bunch of young Americans--throw them a party with lots of American music and sell them alcohol!
This trip to Silencio is a brief one, I believe, as I need to return to the States for a brief visit soon. And because of that I want to enjoy it as much as possible. Rented a car yesterday for the weekend, which makes it so much easier to come and go as I please. Diego, his brother and I went to the pool in Santo Domingo. Were the only ones there. And then later he, a friend, and I came to Quepos to spend a little time with his other brother and hang out at a bar where there was some really, really bad Spanish karaoke. Today I´ve popped into Quepos to hopefully pick up my package from Mom (which will finally allow me to download some more pics), and then Diego and I are heading to the beach.
For now I´m simply trying to enjoy every moment that I have and spend it with people who know my name (even if I don´t always know theirs) and are glad I came.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Starting the Follow-up Year of Fabulousness
I always find it incredible when I log back in here and realize it´s been a week since my last blog. Time flies when you´re lying on the beach or swimming in waterfalls. I guess that´s why vacations always seem to go too fast. I know that the majority of my friends head back to work after a nice holiday break and are dreading it. My sympathies are with you.
My days in Montezuma were some of the most relaxing I´ve probably ever had. I usually got a late start after breakfast, around 10 or 11. Monday I had planned to dive, but the divemaster was ill so it was postponed. Instead, I trekked to the first of three Montezuma waterfalls. I missed my good hiking sandals, but I have to give props to my $5 Panamian flip flops for making the almost 40-minute trek. I swam in the waterfall and soaked up the sun and afterwards spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach in the shade reading.
Tuesday the divemaster continued to be ill, but Project Montezuma, with whom I had booked--more about them later--had booked me in with another company to save another postponement. We headed out to Isla Tortuga, a most gorgeous, gorgeous location. On dive #1 we encountered numerous fish obviously as well as an eel and lobsters. It was a good dive, and it felt good to be back underwater again even if the visibility wasn´t awesome. We took an amazing lunch on the island of fresh fish, vegetables, rice, and fruit before going out for dive #2 which was even better. A shark, lobsters, an eel, a turtle, a puffer fish, which the divemaster held up for us, and a trigger fish, which he also held up for us. Later there was an underwater cave. The ocean surge was quite strong and would literally push us back several feet, so I was wary of entering the cave and hung back. The other divers disappeared and all I could think was, Is the divemaster not worried? I finally decided to follow because if they were gone that long, it had to be cool. Twice the surge grabbed me and threw me backwards and I felt the coral on my right arm and leg, unaware of the actual damage. But I discovered that there was actually a second opening and I swam hard to avoid the third surge. I´m sure I used a lot of air in the 30 seconds or so it took to go through the cave, but as always I was glad I did it. When I climbed in the boat, I surveyed the damage to my body--about 10 cuts on my right forearm, a few on my right hand, and another 20 or so on my right calf. I was really grateful that the divemaster persuaded me to wear the short wetsuit or it would have been much worse. As it is, I´m almost healed.
Every day in Montezuma I would think, maybe tomorrow I´ll leave, and several days I kept saying, oh, one more day. One day I hiked two hours along the beach to El Chorro waterfall where I hung out with a Tico couple, the only other people there. The walk back proved to be slightly more arduous than the getting there, partly because I was tired, and partly because the tide was coming in and shortening the beach. The following day was a good day to do nothing but hang out on the beach and watch the surfers.
Finally on Friday I made the trek out of Montezuma. I opted to splurge for a $40 water taxi, which would shorten my overall travel time by about 3 hours and save me the 1.5 hour rickety bus ride. We saw about three pods of dolphins on the ride to Jaco, which helped make up for the beating that my ass took in that one hour on the ocean. After a shuttle ride, two buses, and two long waits for buses, I arrived in Dominical (just south of Silencio) at about 5 to find the town packed out due to a 12-hour music festival.
A Canadian guy I met on the bus and I headed to Dominical Backpackers, where I knew rooms were cheap. Fortunately, they had beds. The guy on duty asked us if we wanted a double, and I promptly replied, We just met on the bus, we´re not that close yet! We actually took separate dorm rooms and got lucky that no one else checked in, so we actually had private rooms at least for the night. Which was about the only saving grace about this hostel. It´s definitely the worst I´ve stayed in, but as I´ve said before, I can deal with just about anything at this point. I shared my room with three other people last night, two of whom got up early and headed to a different hostel this morning. Wimps! There is one other nice thing about this place: it´s only 100 meters from the beach. I spent all of yesterday on the beach or in the ocean. The waves were cranking yesterday afternoon and the ocean was riddled with awesome surfers. I spent hours watching them, even as the sun went down.
I´ll pass another day on the beach today, and then I´m headed for Quepos tomorrow. Anyone who knows Quepos would wonder why I´d give up Dominical for it, but then they don´t know the hostel the Wide Mouth Frog. In one word: pool. I only have a few more days until I return to my difficult volunteer work in Silencio, and I really want to pass it lying beside a pool.
As for Project Montezuma, here´s the scoop. A 31-year-old American named Kerri Bowers came to Montezuma two years ago on a summer vacation and fell in love with both Montezuma and the guide of one of the companies she had booked a hike with. She decided to stay and ended up marrying him. Together they founded Project Montezuma, which offers free English classes to the local children as well as enrichment classes that volunteers design and it´s all funded from the tours that they sell, like the dive trip I booked. The children receive only about 3 hours of education a day due to a teacher shortage, so the work of the project is greatly needed. Unfortunately, they are always in need of supplies. If you´d like to help out, let me know as I´d like to organize a school supplies drive for them. The link to their website is http://proyectomontezuma.com/.
I´ve dubbed 2010 the follow-up year of fabulousness (since 2009 was the year of fabulousness), and it´s started out strong. Here´s hoping that you have your own year of fabulousness this year.
My days in Montezuma were some of the most relaxing I´ve probably ever had. I usually got a late start after breakfast, around 10 or 11. Monday I had planned to dive, but the divemaster was ill so it was postponed. Instead, I trekked to the first of three Montezuma waterfalls. I missed my good hiking sandals, but I have to give props to my $5 Panamian flip flops for making the almost 40-minute trek. I swam in the waterfall and soaked up the sun and afterwards spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach in the shade reading.
Tuesday the divemaster continued to be ill, but Project Montezuma, with whom I had booked--more about them later--had booked me in with another company to save another postponement. We headed out to Isla Tortuga, a most gorgeous, gorgeous location. On dive #1 we encountered numerous fish obviously as well as an eel and lobsters. It was a good dive, and it felt good to be back underwater again even if the visibility wasn´t awesome. We took an amazing lunch on the island of fresh fish, vegetables, rice, and fruit before going out for dive #2 which was even better. A shark, lobsters, an eel, a turtle, a puffer fish, which the divemaster held up for us, and a trigger fish, which he also held up for us. Later there was an underwater cave. The ocean surge was quite strong and would literally push us back several feet, so I was wary of entering the cave and hung back. The other divers disappeared and all I could think was, Is the divemaster not worried? I finally decided to follow because if they were gone that long, it had to be cool. Twice the surge grabbed me and threw me backwards and I felt the coral on my right arm and leg, unaware of the actual damage. But I discovered that there was actually a second opening and I swam hard to avoid the third surge. I´m sure I used a lot of air in the 30 seconds or so it took to go through the cave, but as always I was glad I did it. When I climbed in the boat, I surveyed the damage to my body--about 10 cuts on my right forearm, a few on my right hand, and another 20 or so on my right calf. I was really grateful that the divemaster persuaded me to wear the short wetsuit or it would have been much worse. As it is, I´m almost healed.
Every day in Montezuma I would think, maybe tomorrow I´ll leave, and several days I kept saying, oh, one more day. One day I hiked two hours along the beach to El Chorro waterfall where I hung out with a Tico couple, the only other people there. The walk back proved to be slightly more arduous than the getting there, partly because I was tired, and partly because the tide was coming in and shortening the beach. The following day was a good day to do nothing but hang out on the beach and watch the surfers.
Finally on Friday I made the trek out of Montezuma. I opted to splurge for a $40 water taxi, which would shorten my overall travel time by about 3 hours and save me the 1.5 hour rickety bus ride. We saw about three pods of dolphins on the ride to Jaco, which helped make up for the beating that my ass took in that one hour on the ocean. After a shuttle ride, two buses, and two long waits for buses, I arrived in Dominical (just south of Silencio) at about 5 to find the town packed out due to a 12-hour music festival.
A Canadian guy I met on the bus and I headed to Dominical Backpackers, where I knew rooms were cheap. Fortunately, they had beds. The guy on duty asked us if we wanted a double, and I promptly replied, We just met on the bus, we´re not that close yet! We actually took separate dorm rooms and got lucky that no one else checked in, so we actually had private rooms at least for the night. Which was about the only saving grace about this hostel. It´s definitely the worst I´ve stayed in, but as I´ve said before, I can deal with just about anything at this point. I shared my room with three other people last night, two of whom got up early and headed to a different hostel this morning. Wimps! There is one other nice thing about this place: it´s only 100 meters from the beach. I spent all of yesterday on the beach or in the ocean. The waves were cranking yesterday afternoon and the ocean was riddled with awesome surfers. I spent hours watching them, even as the sun went down.
I´ll pass another day on the beach today, and then I´m headed for Quepos tomorrow. Anyone who knows Quepos would wonder why I´d give up Dominical for it, but then they don´t know the hostel the Wide Mouth Frog. In one word: pool. I only have a few more days until I return to my difficult volunteer work in Silencio, and I really want to pass it lying beside a pool.
As for Project Montezuma, here´s the scoop. A 31-year-old American named Kerri Bowers came to Montezuma two years ago on a summer vacation and fell in love with both Montezuma and the guide of one of the companies she had booked a hike with. She decided to stay and ended up marrying him. Together they founded Project Montezuma, which offers free English classes to the local children as well as enrichment classes that volunteers design and it´s all funded from the tours that they sell, like the dive trip I booked. The children receive only about 3 hours of education a day due to a teacher shortage, so the work of the project is greatly needed. Unfortunately, they are always in need of supplies. If you´d like to help out, let me know as I´d like to organize a school supplies drive for them. The link to their website is http://proyectomontezuma.com/.
I´ve dubbed 2010 the follow-up year of fabulousness (since 2009 was the year of fabulousness), and it´s started out strong. Here´s hoping that you have your own year of fabulousness this year.
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