All continues to be good in Costa Rica. I worked another week at the chicken farm because I found it far too difficult to get out of bed for the 5:30 a.m. start at the orchard. What a difference an hour can make when you´ve stayed up too late watching movies.
This week we´ve been preparing for the delivery of 100 chickens, which were supposed to arrive on Friday, but didn´t. Hopefully next week, though I´m going to likely be working elsewhere, partly because all of the ditches I´ve helped dig at the chicken farm are making it far too dangerous for me. This was a week of incredible clumsiness. On Monday, I was pushing a wheelbarrow and ran straight into a branch, the same branch that I almost ran into a dozen times the week before. Yep, this left a mark on the forehead. Then Wednesday, I was pushing the wheelbarrow again and fell. Coco rushed over to find me laughing, and I was reminded of the time I fell off Devil´s Marbles in Australia where everyone was so concerned but I could do nothing but laugh. I followed up the fall that afternoon by walking into the bathroom door with my head. Thursday I stepped into two holes at the farm and almost fell again. I have been an accident waiting to happen, or perhaps an accident happening repeatedly.
I think my clumsiness is partly due to the fact that my legs have been really tired. I logged 3 hrs and 45 minutes running this week, including a long run Monday of 1 hr and 40 minutes, which put me at about 9 miles. As much as I´ve developed a sense of relaxation here and a go with the flow kind of attitude, the anal retentive side of me still wants to know how far I´m running. It´s impossible to know exactly. I time myself with the stopwatch, and I have some sense of my pace, particularly with certain songs, but it would be nice to know precisely my distance. Instead, I have to be content when someone asks me how far I´ve run to say ¨35 kilometros mas o menos¨ (more or less). And, yes, I have to do the miles to kilometers conversion in my head, which is all the more reason to use mas o menos. (Which just so happens to be one of my favorite phrases. Do I understand the conversation? Mas o menos Do I understand the movie in Spanish? Mas o menos Do I have a boyfriend here? Mas o menos . . .)
Again, as much as I´ve developed a go with the flow attitude, there is still the occasional thing that throws me for a loop. This week it was when my Zune quit working. The battery had died while I was running Thursday, so back in my room I plugged it in to charge. The logo popped up, so all was well. But two hours later, nothing. All day yesterday, nothing. I wasn´t sure if it was the battery, which I replaced this spring, or a piece of the charger which hasn´t been in good shape since I purchased it. Fortunately for me, I´m quite stubborn, so I´ve tried to turn it on numerous times since then. This morning, it finally awakened to tell me the battery was almost dead. I plugged it in to charge and set it down on the bed gently so as not to shake the wires loose. I didn´t even bother to complain that I wasn´t able to bring it on the bus with me today. The thought of 6 months with no music, when I´ve become accustomed to listening for at least 2 hours a day, was incredibly depressing. There was no go with the flow attitude with this problem. Of course, I now know the charger is completely unreliable and that it could quit at any time. I´m going to hope my luck lasts as long as possible and hope that if it finally breaks for good, I can simply say, No worries.
As for my Spanish, I feel like I´m somewhat at a standstill, partly because I haven´t been studying, though I´m not sure what to study other than making vocabulary lists. On the upside, I continue to be able to have one-on-one conversations. On the downside, when there are several people talking, I often have no clue what is going on, or very little. I realized this week that I´ve been far too timid about speaking and that I need to let loose and sometimes just talk even if I fumble for the words or they come out wrong. I´ve done that this week and it´s been a bit liberating. Last night a guy I hadn´t met struck up a conversation with me at the bar, and I actually felt like I talked almost as much last night in Spanish as I would´ve normally spoken in English. Pity for him, hey? :)
This week I´ve had some food cravings. In particular, I´m really dying for a chipotle chicken sandwich and bowl of broccoli cheddar soup from Panera. If someone could just pop one or both of those down here to me, I´d be your friend for life. I´m also missing vegetables as I just don´t get enough of those. Some green beans, peas, a baked potato. Some BBQ chicken would be nice. What I really don´t want more of is eggs. The week started off bad with eggs--3 times on Monday, then 2 on Wednesday--but fortunately I haven´t seen another one since. Thank goodness for small miracles. My mother here says she enjoys cooking for me because I´ll eat anything--except salad. I told her last night that I eat things here I never ate in the States, like hard boiled eggs, which I´ve actually come to like, and mushrooms and onions, which I simply tolerate. I´m sure that by the time I return home, I´ll have an entire page of foods in which I will indulge heartily. Tomorrow I´m buying bread, peanut butter, and jelly. Ah, the taste of home!
The diet here, as I´ve noted, is considerably different. Most notable is the absence of sweets. In talking with David last night at the bar, he noted that his brother went to Canada for two months and came back considerably heftier than when he left but that within two months back in Costa Rica he had slimmed down. He cited chocolate and hamburgers as the contributing factors. And, yes, most people here are thin, particularly the men. I know of only one man in Silencio who would be considered overweight. Though the women are more likely to be overweight, it´s still not common in the way that it is in the States. It´s party the diet, but then in Silencio, it´s also the work. This week Diego handed me his barilla that he uses to cut the palm branches. This is a metal pole with I guess what you´d call a scythe on the end of it, which can extend to at least 30 feet. It was surprisingly heavy, and I now understand now just how difficult that particular job is.
So now I´m trying to wrap up some fun stuff, like facebook, blogging, and pics so that I can concentrate on some grad school stuff. A little burst of motivation hit me last Sunday and I managed to revise my personal statement for my grad school application. I am really happy with the way it turned out and hoping that the people I´ve emailed it to respond with a hearty congratulations on a good piece of writing. I was really happy to be able to detail some of my time in Silencio, as I think the fact that I´m traveling in foreign countries for 9 months will definitely add to the reasons that they should accept me. My goal is to submit my UConn application next Saturday, which will be 3 weeks prior to their deadline. I´ve also decided that I´m going to look into some other schools, perhaps in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Pennsylvania. I need to find schools who have professors with my interests, and I´ve been reminded after having been away for 3 months how easy it is to start all over again. While I´d still love to go to UConn given its proximity to Hartford, if I have to start over in a city several hours away from there, it won´t be as difficult as one might think.
That´s it for this installment of the Chezza Chronicles. Pics to follow on facebook, including one of my Tica mother, who is 8 years my junior!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Leading the Quiet Life
Life continues as usual for me in Silencio. It was another week of hard work at the chicken farm, but somehow I find it immensely satisfying. Who would´ve thought I would enjoy digging ditches? Tuesday and Wednesday were by far the hardest as I spent several hours digging trenches for water drainage. It´s a stark contrast to teaching in many ways, not the least of which is the immediate gratification that comes with this job. In teaching one must be content with believing that one is making a difference, that there is some kind of output, however unmeasurable it may be. I´ve learned that working with your hands produces a much more immediate reward--that of a measurable product in a short amount of time. At the end of both Tuesday and Wednesday, I could look at the ground and say, I did that, and know that what I did will make a difference. I´ve found that digging ditches is a nice alternative to lifting weights at the gym. Friday I helped to mix concrete to pour an entrance to the farm, and again it was nice to see an end outcome, and an end outcome that is lasting.
Late last week I made the smart and cheap investment of a pair of rubber work boots. My running shoes were quickly becoming trashed, and given that I´m now running quite frequently and for longer distances, I know I will need them in the coming months. Unfortunately, the boots I wanted (ones I can tuck my pants into) weren´t available at the store I was in, and not knowing another store where I could purchase them, I settled for a shorter pair with laces, which the saleslady referred to as ¨muy bonita.¨ If my Spanish had been better, I would´ve said, ¨Who you kiddin´lady? They´re not very beautiful, but it doesn´t matter cause they´re only for working anyway.¨ Instead, I settled for, Esta bien and plunked down $6 for them and a pair of socks. They served well enough this week and were particularly necessary given the mud, but when I found a store today that had the boots I wanted, I didn´t hesitate to hand over $10 for them. I´m sure I´ll find them to be a good investment for my remaining three weeks in Silencio.
The weather has changed slightly here, producing rain more often and in more abundance. There has been little sunshine this week, which was nice when I was digging ditches, but isn´t as nice for the afternoons where there´s little to do. I´ve taken to napping after lunch every day, I´m reading a bit more, and as always, my music serves as a good diversion. I´ve also increased my running. I awoke Thursday morning to the sound of heavy rain on the tin roof (though I´ve come to learn that sometimes it only sounds heavy because of the tin) and was content to stay in bed well past the start of the work day. I ended up missing work altogether and felt only a teensy bit guilty about that.
I wanted to run Monday but found my running clothes locked in a room where they were hanging on a line. As it turns out, we had heavy, heavy rain for several hours, and I wouldn´t have been able to run anyway. (Though I usually don´t hesitate to run in the rain.) So Tuesday I headed out at about 3:30 for an 84-minute run. I hadn´t run further than 15 minutes in that particular direction, so I wasn´t sure what would await me. What awaited me was delightful scenery. The road parallels the Rio Savegre on the left for part of the way, which because of the rain, was raging. And at times there were amazing waterfalls on my right. Add to that the cloud-topped mountains in the near distance, and I can´t imagine a more perfect track. I will set out for an even longer run on Monday, and I´m anxious to see what other scenery I will find.
Evenings continue the same. I find myself quite frequently at the ¨house of pool¨ where I usually find Diego playing. Saturday offered a different diversion as it was once again karaoke night. Not wanting to sing the same songs, I was going to opt out, but I made a pact with Coco, with whom I work at the chicken farm and who is quite the musician, that I would sing if he would. I chose song after song only to find that they all already had singers. I eventually settled for Down Under and was glad I didn´t dedicate it to my Aussie friends considering my rendition was less than stellar. It did, however, result in Coco singing, part of which I captured on video. More fun that night, however, was watching the locals dance. Salsa dancing is a huge part of the culture, and I´m shocked to find just how many of the men know how to dance. I asked Coco how they learn, and he simply said it´s the culture. In other words, they learn because they´ve been watching it since they were kids. I find it fascinating not only because they learn that way, but also because in such a machismo society, salsa dancing is not seen as a contrast to that. Certainly that´s a different attitude than one would find in the States.
I´m once again in town for the day, today focusing on taking care of business odds and ends, such as insurance matters and grad school applications. You´d think that six hours of Internet would be more than enough time in a day, but I´m sure that when 3:45 rolls around today, I´m going to be wishing I had more time. And I always worry that I will have forgotten something that will then have to wait another week.
Despite this minor annoyance, I´ve found that most things are just that--minor annoyances. I made a list this week of things that I miss and found it to be remarkably short, and they´re so minor that I doubt I´ll be able to recall them here. But here is what I remember:
1) the heat of clothes fresh out of the dryer
2) chocolate (the albergue is fresh out of Milky Ways and the M&Ms in the store are older than I care to imagine)
3) on rare occasions I miss a hot shower
4) clothes that feel really, really clean
5) going out to eat at a decent restaurant
The list of things I really enjoy about this place was much longer and again I can´t even begin to remember all of them.
1) looking up into the trees to find any number of wildlife: a 3-ft iguana, gorgeous macaws, parrots
2) the sound of the rain on the tin roof
3) walking into town where it seems everybody knows my name and says it aloud, even if I don´t know theirs
4) having a conversation in Spanish and actually understanding a good portion
5) finding new pleasures each week, like the delicious pizza place I found in Quepos last week, and the awesome, super cheap ice cream I found this week (less than 20 cents)
Most of the time I feel pretty far removed from civilization, and I´ve found that most of the time I don´t mind it at all. No street noise, few street lights, rarely a phone ringing. We should all be so lucky to experience this kind of peace and solitude for a while.
Late last week I made the smart and cheap investment of a pair of rubber work boots. My running shoes were quickly becoming trashed, and given that I´m now running quite frequently and for longer distances, I know I will need them in the coming months. Unfortunately, the boots I wanted (ones I can tuck my pants into) weren´t available at the store I was in, and not knowing another store where I could purchase them, I settled for a shorter pair with laces, which the saleslady referred to as ¨muy bonita.¨ If my Spanish had been better, I would´ve said, ¨Who you kiddin´lady? They´re not very beautiful, but it doesn´t matter cause they´re only for working anyway.¨ Instead, I settled for, Esta bien and plunked down $6 for them and a pair of socks. They served well enough this week and were particularly necessary given the mud, but when I found a store today that had the boots I wanted, I didn´t hesitate to hand over $10 for them. I´m sure I´ll find them to be a good investment for my remaining three weeks in Silencio.
The weather has changed slightly here, producing rain more often and in more abundance. There has been little sunshine this week, which was nice when I was digging ditches, but isn´t as nice for the afternoons where there´s little to do. I´ve taken to napping after lunch every day, I´m reading a bit more, and as always, my music serves as a good diversion. I´ve also increased my running. I awoke Thursday morning to the sound of heavy rain on the tin roof (though I´ve come to learn that sometimes it only sounds heavy because of the tin) and was content to stay in bed well past the start of the work day. I ended up missing work altogether and felt only a teensy bit guilty about that.
I wanted to run Monday but found my running clothes locked in a room where they were hanging on a line. As it turns out, we had heavy, heavy rain for several hours, and I wouldn´t have been able to run anyway. (Though I usually don´t hesitate to run in the rain.) So Tuesday I headed out at about 3:30 for an 84-minute run. I hadn´t run further than 15 minutes in that particular direction, so I wasn´t sure what would await me. What awaited me was delightful scenery. The road parallels the Rio Savegre on the left for part of the way, which because of the rain, was raging. And at times there were amazing waterfalls on my right. Add to that the cloud-topped mountains in the near distance, and I can´t imagine a more perfect track. I will set out for an even longer run on Monday, and I´m anxious to see what other scenery I will find.
Evenings continue the same. I find myself quite frequently at the ¨house of pool¨ where I usually find Diego playing. Saturday offered a different diversion as it was once again karaoke night. Not wanting to sing the same songs, I was going to opt out, but I made a pact with Coco, with whom I work at the chicken farm and who is quite the musician, that I would sing if he would. I chose song after song only to find that they all already had singers. I eventually settled for Down Under and was glad I didn´t dedicate it to my Aussie friends considering my rendition was less than stellar. It did, however, result in Coco singing, part of which I captured on video. More fun that night, however, was watching the locals dance. Salsa dancing is a huge part of the culture, and I´m shocked to find just how many of the men know how to dance. I asked Coco how they learn, and he simply said it´s the culture. In other words, they learn because they´ve been watching it since they were kids. I find it fascinating not only because they learn that way, but also because in such a machismo society, salsa dancing is not seen as a contrast to that. Certainly that´s a different attitude than one would find in the States.
I´m once again in town for the day, today focusing on taking care of business odds and ends, such as insurance matters and grad school applications. You´d think that six hours of Internet would be more than enough time in a day, but I´m sure that when 3:45 rolls around today, I´m going to be wishing I had more time. And I always worry that I will have forgotten something that will then have to wait another week.
Despite this minor annoyance, I´ve found that most things are just that--minor annoyances. I made a list this week of things that I miss and found it to be remarkably short, and they´re so minor that I doubt I´ll be able to recall them here. But here is what I remember:
1) the heat of clothes fresh out of the dryer
2) chocolate (the albergue is fresh out of Milky Ways and the M&Ms in the store are older than I care to imagine)
3) on rare occasions I miss a hot shower
4) clothes that feel really, really clean
5) going out to eat at a decent restaurant
The list of things I really enjoy about this place was much longer and again I can´t even begin to remember all of them.
1) looking up into the trees to find any number of wildlife: a 3-ft iguana, gorgeous macaws, parrots
2) the sound of the rain on the tin roof
3) walking into town where it seems everybody knows my name and says it aloud, even if I don´t know theirs
4) having a conversation in Spanish and actually understanding a good portion
5) finding new pleasures each week, like the delicious pizza place I found in Quepos last week, and the awesome, super cheap ice cream I found this week (less than 20 cents)
Most of the time I feel pretty far removed from civilization, and I´ve found that most of the time I don´t mind it at all. No street noise, few street lights, rarely a phone ringing. We should all be so lucky to experience this kind of peace and solitude for a while.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Making a Whole Lot of Remember When´s
The date of my departure from Silencio has come and gone, yet I find myself still living there. I decided to stay an additional six weeks past my original departure date and forego the project in Alajuela. The work in Silencio is varied, the people are wonderful, I am able to practice my Spanish hourly, and I couldn´t bear to leave the people who have become my friends. In fact, leaving here will be the most difficult thing about my trip thus far.
I´m really glad I stayed. Last Saturday there was a big dance, and I had an awesome time. My friend Christopher danced salsa with me, or rather he dragged me around the dance floor and didn´t seem to mind that I´m a terrible follower. Another guy whose name I don´t even know wasn´t so accomodating and gave up rather quickly. I danced for virtually the entire night, mostly with Diego, who I´m now referring to as my amigovio (a cross between amigo/friend and novio/boyfriend--you probably now understand why I haven´t left Silencio!), and not a scrap of fabric of my dress was dry when I left because of the heat. I loved every minute of it.
Work continued last week. I dug in the ditch again and then worked three days at the lecheria. Twice I rode horses and I continue to enjoy it. The highlight of the week was Wednesday. When I arrived at the lecheria, there was a cow tied to a tree, and Lango promptly informed me it would be killed that morning. When I asked where, he pointed to the adjacent field. Moments later, my friend Andres, and two of my uncles showed up with knifes and plastic bags. I quickly learned it takes only the following to kill and butcher a cow: a few knifes, a few ropes, some plastic bags, and some burlap bags. With sincerest apologies to my vegeterian friends, I admit that I helped to butcher that cow.
Andres offered me the knife to slit the throat, but I was still adjusting to the fact that not only would a cow be killed right in front of me but that they would then proceed to butcher the thing right there in the field. Andres cut a section of skin from the neck and then the artery, and while the blood ran from the cow, the men ate breakfast. Yes, I´ll say that again, they ate breakfast. I even asked one of them, How can you eat? I mean, the poor cow was lying there dying and mooing.
But I guess it´s true that you can become desensitized to just about anything because I found myself helping out. Hold the hoof here, pull here, help us roll it over. And before you knew it, I was asking for the knife. Again, my apologies to my vegeterian friends, but I helped to take the skin off one of the back legs and found that I wasn´t even grossed out. After about 3 hours, we made the drive into town with the meat, and I couldn´t keep my jaw from dropping when they threw the head of the cow at the feet of some people sitting in front of a house. I´m not sure I want to know what the woman of the house was going to do with that head. After breakfast I headed down to the house where they were cutting up the meat, and I ended up helping for a short time. I now feel that having helped to butcher a cow, I have earned the right to eat as much meat in my life as I care to partake of.
This week, I decided to not work and instead am studying Spanish in Manuel Antonio. I have to catch the bus each morning at 5:15 (the only bus) for the ride to town. My mother packs my breakfast which I then eat at the bus stop in order to kill time before class starts at 8:00. I love, love, love my class. My teacher is fabulous, and I can understand the majority of what she says. Class last four hours and is conducted only in Spanish.
Monday there was a Spanish conversation group that met after class, and I was delighted that I´m one of the more capable students. Yesterday was a free surfing lesson. What a trip that was! I desperately wanted to stand and I guess, mas o menos, I did--for about 2 seconds. I couldn´t seem to get a wide enough stance with my feet to have any balance, but then what can you expect with only one hour of instruction. If not for the extremely salty water, I´d take additional classes, but yesterday left my throat, eyes, and nose burning.
Today was a free salsa lesson, and I enjoyed it more than the surfing if only because I was much better. I really wished that I had had this lesson last week, before the dance in Silencio, because Christopher wouldn´t have had to drag me quite as much.
There are more volunteers who have arrived in Silencio. Amanda, a girl from Maryland, came last week, and I spent two hours with her Sunday taking her to the orchard, the lecheria, and the chicken farm. As I explained things, I recalled the tour that I received of these places with Christopher when I had known him only for a day. There was little conversation between him and me because I understood so very little. In recalling that day,I realized how different things are now. When I first arrived, I wanted to interact with the locals but sometimes avoided it because I knew I wouldn´t understand and I could bear neither the frustration nor the feeling of stupidity. In fact, one night I called Mike just to hear the sound of a language I could understand. Yet now I find myself wanting to interact and not avoiding. Their questions still often stump me, and they probably tire of hearing me say, ¨que?¨ (what?), but rarely do they give up on me. And while they may sometimes have a laugh at my expense, I sometimes generate a laugh from them intentionally.
Next week I will return to work and will continue my nightly forays to the ¨house of pool¨where I almost always find Diego playing (I now refer you to the facebooks photos of him.) and we usually hang out at his house afterwards. Last week he visited his two kids in Quepos, and I loaned him my camera to take some photos of them. (Some of you are probably thinking, you loaned him your camera? and even he said to me in Spanish, you have trust in me, but it wasn´t a big deal. I did totally trust him.) Monday night I gave him the prints I had made for him, and his face was priceless; it was such a simple thing for me to do, yet for him it was huge because he had only two pictures of them before Monday. That was a stark reminder for me of how different life is for the people here.
I´ve been reminded of that quite frequently of late. Two nights ago I had my Swiss Army knife out because I needed to use the pliars (oh, how I love that knife!) and Diego asked me how much it cost. When I told him $50 US, he quickly handed it back to me as if to say, I don´t want to break it, but when I bought it months ago, $50 seemed like a small amount to me. Prior to that I was hanging out at the albergue with Mario and Christopher who were desperately wanting french fries but who lacked the 1500 colones ($3 US) it would cost. While on the one hand I felt like Mario was taking advantage of me by asking me to buy them, on the other hand I felt like, what´s 1500 colones for me? A pittance really. And if I can give them 2000 to buy fries and a drink when I feel as fortunate as I do, then why not? I would feel guilty not buying them. Christopher asked me how much I spent on my Spanish class and I felt guilty telling him $320. What $320 wouldn´t buy for him and I throw it around like it´s nothing. Yes, I feel guilty that I have the means and the ability to be here.
Mario told me last week how difficult it is for them to travel to the US and I asked my teacher about it today. She explained that yes, indeed, that is the case. For most, obtaining a visa to go to the US is like winning the lottery. You have to have money, property, and/or connections, and even then the number of visas given out is limited because the US government limits them. It just doesn´t seem fair to me.
I continue to feel both fortunate and extremely content. Each afternoon this week I board the bus for Silencio, oftentimes knowing some of the other passengers because they reside in Silencio. When I make that one hour ride, I often find myself staring out the window and smiling because I feel like I´m going home. That is my bus, that is my route. I know exactly where it´s going and am glad to be going there. And when I step off the bus at my destination, it feels good that there is usually someone there who knows my name and is asking, ¨¿Como esta?¨ Yes, it definitely feels like home.
I´m really glad I stayed. Last Saturday there was a big dance, and I had an awesome time. My friend Christopher danced salsa with me, or rather he dragged me around the dance floor and didn´t seem to mind that I´m a terrible follower. Another guy whose name I don´t even know wasn´t so accomodating and gave up rather quickly. I danced for virtually the entire night, mostly with Diego, who I´m now referring to as my amigovio (a cross between amigo/friend and novio/boyfriend--you probably now understand why I haven´t left Silencio!), and not a scrap of fabric of my dress was dry when I left because of the heat. I loved every minute of it.
Work continued last week. I dug in the ditch again and then worked three days at the lecheria. Twice I rode horses and I continue to enjoy it. The highlight of the week was Wednesday. When I arrived at the lecheria, there was a cow tied to a tree, and Lango promptly informed me it would be killed that morning. When I asked where, he pointed to the adjacent field. Moments later, my friend Andres, and two of my uncles showed up with knifes and plastic bags. I quickly learned it takes only the following to kill and butcher a cow: a few knifes, a few ropes, some plastic bags, and some burlap bags. With sincerest apologies to my vegeterian friends, I admit that I helped to butcher that cow.
Andres offered me the knife to slit the throat, but I was still adjusting to the fact that not only would a cow be killed right in front of me but that they would then proceed to butcher the thing right there in the field. Andres cut a section of skin from the neck and then the artery, and while the blood ran from the cow, the men ate breakfast. Yes, I´ll say that again, they ate breakfast. I even asked one of them, How can you eat? I mean, the poor cow was lying there dying and mooing.
But I guess it´s true that you can become desensitized to just about anything because I found myself helping out. Hold the hoof here, pull here, help us roll it over. And before you knew it, I was asking for the knife. Again, my apologies to my vegeterian friends, but I helped to take the skin off one of the back legs and found that I wasn´t even grossed out. After about 3 hours, we made the drive into town with the meat, and I couldn´t keep my jaw from dropping when they threw the head of the cow at the feet of some people sitting in front of a house. I´m not sure I want to know what the woman of the house was going to do with that head. After breakfast I headed down to the house where they were cutting up the meat, and I ended up helping for a short time. I now feel that having helped to butcher a cow, I have earned the right to eat as much meat in my life as I care to partake of.
This week, I decided to not work and instead am studying Spanish in Manuel Antonio. I have to catch the bus each morning at 5:15 (the only bus) for the ride to town. My mother packs my breakfast which I then eat at the bus stop in order to kill time before class starts at 8:00. I love, love, love my class. My teacher is fabulous, and I can understand the majority of what she says. Class last four hours and is conducted only in Spanish.
Monday there was a Spanish conversation group that met after class, and I was delighted that I´m one of the more capable students. Yesterday was a free surfing lesson. What a trip that was! I desperately wanted to stand and I guess, mas o menos, I did--for about 2 seconds. I couldn´t seem to get a wide enough stance with my feet to have any balance, but then what can you expect with only one hour of instruction. If not for the extremely salty water, I´d take additional classes, but yesterday left my throat, eyes, and nose burning.
Today was a free salsa lesson, and I enjoyed it more than the surfing if only because I was much better. I really wished that I had had this lesson last week, before the dance in Silencio, because Christopher wouldn´t have had to drag me quite as much.
There are more volunteers who have arrived in Silencio. Amanda, a girl from Maryland, came last week, and I spent two hours with her Sunday taking her to the orchard, the lecheria, and the chicken farm. As I explained things, I recalled the tour that I received of these places with Christopher when I had known him only for a day. There was little conversation between him and me because I understood so very little. In recalling that day,I realized how different things are now. When I first arrived, I wanted to interact with the locals but sometimes avoided it because I knew I wouldn´t understand and I could bear neither the frustration nor the feeling of stupidity. In fact, one night I called Mike just to hear the sound of a language I could understand. Yet now I find myself wanting to interact and not avoiding. Their questions still often stump me, and they probably tire of hearing me say, ¨que?¨ (what?), but rarely do they give up on me. And while they may sometimes have a laugh at my expense, I sometimes generate a laugh from them intentionally.
Next week I will return to work and will continue my nightly forays to the ¨house of pool¨where I almost always find Diego playing (I now refer you to the facebooks photos of him.) and we usually hang out at his house afterwards. Last week he visited his two kids in Quepos, and I loaned him my camera to take some photos of them. (Some of you are probably thinking, you loaned him your camera? and even he said to me in Spanish, you have trust in me, but it wasn´t a big deal. I did totally trust him.) Monday night I gave him the prints I had made for him, and his face was priceless; it was such a simple thing for me to do, yet for him it was huge because he had only two pictures of them before Monday. That was a stark reminder for me of how different life is for the people here.
I´ve been reminded of that quite frequently of late. Two nights ago I had my Swiss Army knife out because I needed to use the pliars (oh, how I love that knife!) and Diego asked me how much it cost. When I told him $50 US, he quickly handed it back to me as if to say, I don´t want to break it, but when I bought it months ago, $50 seemed like a small amount to me. Prior to that I was hanging out at the albergue with Mario and Christopher who were desperately wanting french fries but who lacked the 1500 colones ($3 US) it would cost. While on the one hand I felt like Mario was taking advantage of me by asking me to buy them, on the other hand I felt like, what´s 1500 colones for me? A pittance really. And if I can give them 2000 to buy fries and a drink when I feel as fortunate as I do, then why not? I would feel guilty not buying them. Christopher asked me how much I spent on my Spanish class and I felt guilty telling him $320. What $320 wouldn´t buy for him and I throw it around like it´s nothing. Yes, I feel guilty that I have the means and the ability to be here.
Mario told me last week how difficult it is for them to travel to the US and I asked my teacher about it today. She explained that yes, indeed, that is the case. For most, obtaining a visa to go to the US is like winning the lottery. You have to have money, property, and/or connections, and even then the number of visas given out is limited because the US government limits them. It just doesn´t seem fair to me.
I continue to feel both fortunate and extremely content. Each afternoon this week I board the bus for Silencio, oftentimes knowing some of the other passengers because they reside in Silencio. When I make that one hour ride, I often find myself staring out the window and smiling because I feel like I´m going home. That is my bus, that is my route. I know exactly where it´s going and am glad to be going there. And when I step off the bus at my destination, it feels good that there is usually someone there who knows my name and is asking, ¨¿Como esta?¨ Yes, it definitely feels like home.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
The Tranquility of Silencio
I could write for days about my two weeks thus far in Silencio because I´ve fallen madly in love with it. Life here takes getting accustomed to. Lizards crawl across the ceiling while we watch TV, rice and beans are served at almost every meal, the work can be filthy and exhausting and then you can´t expect the clothes to come clean when you wash in cold water, and communication in another language is sometimes a struggle. But beneath all of that there is a tranquility to this place. A 20-minute walk through the palms at 5:30 in the morning with the sound of nothing but your footsteps and the birds. A quiet when I lay down at night that is so quiet that even the lowest volume on my mp3 player is too loud. A sense of satisfaction that the milk I just helped to draw is feeding a child next door. Eating a papaya or a guava directly from the tree while taking a break from work. Sitting alone in the middle of a waterfall. Life in Silencio is referred to as ¨tranquilo¨and it couldn´t be a more perfect word. It´s like taking life and putting it in slow motion. There is no rush for anything here.
The work here is difficult, though. I´ve worked harder in two weeks than ever in my life. I spent five days at the dairy farm and found out just how strong your hands and triceps have to be to milk a cow. If I had had to do one by myself, the poor thing would have stood there all day. By day 3 I knew to take Oreos to have with the milk and when I forgot them on Friday, I mixed in some sugar instead. Reminded me of when I was a kid at my grandmother´s; she wouldn´t let us drink coffee like at home, but she´d let us have milk with sugar. The 20-minute trek to the lecheria started at 5 each morning and by 5:35 we were well under way with 11 cows to milk. When we finished, we loaded the milk on the horse and walked it to town to deliver the milk to the store. They transfer the milk into their own containers and then the locals arrive with empty water bottles, soda bottles, pitchers, and purchase the milk. I like seeing little kids walking out of the store with a full pitcher of milk so heavy they can barely carry it the short distance home.
Last Wednesday I had the opportunity to play cowgirl for an afternoon. I thought we were going to ride for fun. I didn´t realize I was heading out on a cattle roundup. We rode through the palms looking for the cows, and every branch that Lango threw up out of the way came back to almost smack me in the face. He got a kick out of hearing me scream like a little girl. We found the cows and then herded them in the direction of the corral. When one fell behind or got too far out of line, I rode around and herded it back in the right direction. I absolutely loved it. One time he even got me to gallop and though I was scared, it was quite exhilirating. We headed over to the river where he roped another horse, the horse I rode back to the farm. Apparently it wasn´t a wild horse. They trade them out every now and then, and they always know where to find the horses and the cows.
This week I worked at the chicken farm for three days where I helped to build a house and dig a ditch. The day of the ditch I thought I would die. Three hours of digging and throwing heavy stones out of the ditch. I wonder sometimes if the locals are laughing at these girls (since all the volunteers are female) who show up to pay to do hard labor. The two days in the orchard this week were much easier. On Thursday I helped put compost around about 400 trees and then on Friday I helped to catch papayas as they knocked them from the trees. Then they put a machete in my hand to let me help trim the banana trees. Now I know why the people here were determined to be the happiest in the world--there is something immensely satisfying in whacking away at a banana tree (or anything for that matter) with a machete.
My afternoons are spent napping, studying, listening to music, or sitting in the waterfall. I usually take a daily run at 4:30, and again I wonder what the locals are thinking at this crazy girl who runs in intense heat and wears the same outfit every day to run (which I wash every day when I shower). After dinner I usually head to the albergue for drinks and conversation, the occasional karaoke or soccer match on the TV and of late I´ve been stopping to play pool at a local house where a friend often plays. Some nights I´m left feeling homesick because I just want to have a conversation where I don´t have to think so hard, but on the nights when I can actually communicate and when sometimes the words come without thinking or I understand without having to think so hard, I feel like I just might get there with this language. I really hope so. It´s one of the things I want most from this trip.
In many ways it feels like an idyllic life, but then I´m also not the one working long hours for little pay. One friend told me that wages in Silencio are approximately $40 US per week and though some things here are incredibly cheap, others aren´t. A small jar of peanut butter costs $6, so you can imagine how much of that I eat. Nonetheless, if you ask most of the locals if they like Silencio, they tell you they do and refer to the tranquility of the place, which I have to admit is a beautiful contrast to the busy-ness of Connecticut. I, too, have found a sense of peace here.
I mean, this is a place where you can buy an individual bandaid in the store and not the whole box. It´s the kind of place where after being here for only two weeks you can get drinks on credit if you didn´t bring enough money (that´s when I knew I was a local!). It´s the kind of place where you might be awakened at midnight to the sound of a guitar and people singing because your sister just turned 15.
The date I had planned to leave is rapidly approaching (October 7), and I´m asked on a daily basis how much more time I have. I always reply that I don´t know and throw out some potential days, but sometimes I want to say, ¨The rest of my life.¨
The work here is difficult, though. I´ve worked harder in two weeks than ever in my life. I spent five days at the dairy farm and found out just how strong your hands and triceps have to be to milk a cow. If I had had to do one by myself, the poor thing would have stood there all day. By day 3 I knew to take Oreos to have with the milk and when I forgot them on Friday, I mixed in some sugar instead. Reminded me of when I was a kid at my grandmother´s; she wouldn´t let us drink coffee like at home, but she´d let us have milk with sugar. The 20-minute trek to the lecheria started at 5 each morning and by 5:35 we were well under way with 11 cows to milk. When we finished, we loaded the milk on the horse and walked it to town to deliver the milk to the store. They transfer the milk into their own containers and then the locals arrive with empty water bottles, soda bottles, pitchers, and purchase the milk. I like seeing little kids walking out of the store with a full pitcher of milk so heavy they can barely carry it the short distance home.
Last Wednesday I had the opportunity to play cowgirl for an afternoon. I thought we were going to ride for fun. I didn´t realize I was heading out on a cattle roundup. We rode through the palms looking for the cows, and every branch that Lango threw up out of the way came back to almost smack me in the face. He got a kick out of hearing me scream like a little girl. We found the cows and then herded them in the direction of the corral. When one fell behind or got too far out of line, I rode around and herded it back in the right direction. I absolutely loved it. One time he even got me to gallop and though I was scared, it was quite exhilirating. We headed over to the river where he roped another horse, the horse I rode back to the farm. Apparently it wasn´t a wild horse. They trade them out every now and then, and they always know where to find the horses and the cows.
This week I worked at the chicken farm for three days where I helped to build a house and dig a ditch. The day of the ditch I thought I would die. Three hours of digging and throwing heavy stones out of the ditch. I wonder sometimes if the locals are laughing at these girls (since all the volunteers are female) who show up to pay to do hard labor. The two days in the orchard this week were much easier. On Thursday I helped put compost around about 400 trees and then on Friday I helped to catch papayas as they knocked them from the trees. Then they put a machete in my hand to let me help trim the banana trees. Now I know why the people here were determined to be the happiest in the world--there is something immensely satisfying in whacking away at a banana tree (or anything for that matter) with a machete.
My afternoons are spent napping, studying, listening to music, or sitting in the waterfall. I usually take a daily run at 4:30, and again I wonder what the locals are thinking at this crazy girl who runs in intense heat and wears the same outfit every day to run (which I wash every day when I shower). After dinner I usually head to the albergue for drinks and conversation, the occasional karaoke or soccer match on the TV and of late I´ve been stopping to play pool at a local house where a friend often plays. Some nights I´m left feeling homesick because I just want to have a conversation where I don´t have to think so hard, but on the nights when I can actually communicate and when sometimes the words come without thinking or I understand without having to think so hard, I feel like I just might get there with this language. I really hope so. It´s one of the things I want most from this trip.
In many ways it feels like an idyllic life, but then I´m also not the one working long hours for little pay. One friend told me that wages in Silencio are approximately $40 US per week and though some things here are incredibly cheap, others aren´t. A small jar of peanut butter costs $6, so you can imagine how much of that I eat. Nonetheless, if you ask most of the locals if they like Silencio, they tell you they do and refer to the tranquility of the place, which I have to admit is a beautiful contrast to the busy-ness of Connecticut. I, too, have found a sense of peace here.
I mean, this is a place where you can buy an individual bandaid in the store and not the whole box. It´s the kind of place where after being here for only two weeks you can get drinks on credit if you didn´t bring enough money (that´s when I knew I was a local!). It´s the kind of place where you might be awakened at midnight to the sound of a guitar and people singing because your sister just turned 15.
The date I had planned to leave is rapidly approaching (October 7), and I´m asked on a daily basis how much more time I have. I always reply that I don´t know and throw out some potential days, but sometimes I want to say, ¨The rest of my life.¨
Saturday, September 19, 2009
New Town, New Friends
My days in Uvita were strikingly similar most of the time. Work, movie, shower, dinner, reading. And the puppies or their mom usually fit in there. Lucy, the mother, took to finding me in the hammock and jumping in my lap where she would sleep until usually the puppies would find her. It was a lazy life, and I enjoyed it for the most part.
The last two days in Uvita were fun-filled. Monday two volunteers, a fellow traveler, and I hiked up the river to the waterfall where I jumped off the rope swing into a swimming hole. The impact left my body stinging and out of breath, and it wasn´t something I wanted to repeat. Nonetheless, I was glad I did it. Better was sliding down the waterfall. It´s about 25-30 feet high. You climb to the top, sit in it, and then push yourself off and slide down. Quite exhilirating. Alle said I came up out of the water with the same expression on my face as before, so she thought I dídn´t like it, but then I burst out with, That was awesome. It was well worth it, and I´d do it again in a heartbeat. OK, well maybe not a heartbeat. It takes me a little time to work up the courage to push off, but I´d still do it and enjoy it.
Tuesday was different because it was Independence Day here in Costa Rica so all the staff had the day off. Alle, Kevin, and I were the housekeeping crew for the day, which was a nice change. We cleaned a few rooms and I washed enough sheets, towels, and rugs that Tra actually let me use the dryer as long as I promised not to tell the staff. He doesn´t let them use it because it´s too expensive. Alle and I also managed to sneak in some of our clothes in the last load for free.
In the afternoon we walked to the river where we found Ticos (locals) swimming in what we had designated as our spot. They were spearfishing and swimming, and I was shocked at the size of the fish that came out of the spot where we were swimming, and I tried not to think about it when we got in.
Tuesday night several of us decided to volunteer on a turtle project doing a night patrol. We crowded into a taxi and made a short journey to Ojochal. We were to meet a man named Alex where the road ended. (Sound like a drug deal? It felt like it.) We arrived early and stalled the taxi driver so we wouldn´t have to get out in the middle of nowhere where we were sure there could be crocodiles.
Alex finally showed and he put us in a boat for a short ride across the river, where, yes, there are crocodiles, to the beach. He explained the project and what we would do, and then we spent a couple of hours walking the beach looking for turtles laying eggs. We only saw one, and she was injured. It was her fourth trip on the beach, and she still hasn´t lain her eggs. They believe she won´t be able to make a nest with her flippers, that she´ll eventually just drop the eggs on the beach. I hope that they are there when she does so that the poachers don´t get them. It was a nice night, and I carried on a good conversation in espanol with one of the workers.
Wednesday I made the journey to Silencio, which was adventure-filled. I explained to the bus driver where I wanted to go, asked him if he knew it, and if he would tell me when we got there. A bit later I asked him again and he said 20 minutes. An hour later (and the bus was too crowded to ask again) we arrived in Quepos, past my destination. I finally determined that the next bus directly to Silencio wasn´t for two more days, that I could take a bus that would drop me off 6 kilometers away. Or I could take a $26 taxi. I didn´t want to spend the night in Quepos for two nights, and I decided $26 was a small price to pay for not walking 6 km with a 45-pound backpack. Good thing as it was pouring rain when we got there.
I was introduced to my new family at Arianna´s, which is right in the center of town (virtually everything is in the center of town since only 500 people live there), and my room. The home is modest like all the others there, but it´s comfortable as long as I keep the fan going in my room and there is water. Sometimes there´s no water and I have to wait to shower. And having to use the kitchen sink or the sink outside to brush my teeth is inconvenient, but there´s no sink in the bathroom.
Arianna is part of a big family; she has 10 brothers and sisters. Almost always there are a lot of people there: brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grandparents, etc. Plenty of people to communicate with, although there are only a few who make an attempt to speak with me really. Arianna is wonderful with me, speaking more slowly to me than her family so that I understand. And Danny, who I think is her brother and who sometimes lives there, is also great. He speaks a little English and wants to learn more.
I started work on Thursday, and the work was minimal. Friday was more. We have to be ready at 6 a.m. and we cut fruit and veggies for the monkeys, birds, and the lone fawn they rescued who they aptly named Bambi. Then we go back to our homes for breakfast and a break. Around 8:30 we go back for more work until about 12. Yesterday was rough work--shoveling rocks and mud. I was quite filthy when I finished and wouldn´t you know it, this was one of the days I had to wait to shower because there was no water.
In the afternoon one of the workers, a local who befriended me named Christopher, took me on a tour of the rest of their projects--lecheria (where they milk cows), orchard (where they get papayas and bananas), and a chicken farm. I have the opportunity to work in all of them, and I guess over the three weeks I´ll do just that. I want to try the lecheria next, just to make my Uncle Kenneth proud. I´m sure he´d tell me if I want to milk cows, I´m welcome to come out there. But here I´ll be hand milking. A little scary.
Work ends at about 12 each day and then we´re free until the next day. There isn´t anything to do in town. There is one store, one little soda shop, and a bar. I usually go to the bar late afternoon and hang out with a bunch of the guys who work for the project where I´m volunteering. I´m really working on my Spanish with them and am improving, and one of them wants to work on his English so we trade words. He asks me how to say something in English, and I ask him how to say things in Spanish and to correct me when I say something incorrectly.
I´m free on weekends. Today, Saturday, I got up at 4:30 this morning to catch the bus into town. It´s the only bus of the day or I definitely would´ve slept in (though it would be difficult because the entire town wakes up at 5 every morning). This morning I went to the beach at Manuel Antonio National Park. It´s absolutely stunning, and there are lots of restaurants and places to buy souvenirs. I splurged on a silk dress that I can wear three different ways. I´m considering it a birthday present to myself, and I plan to wear it tonight to sink karaoke at the bar in town.
Tomorrow the guys play soccer mid-day and then we may go to one of the two waterfalls where we can swim. Two of the other volunteers went to it yesterday and said it was wonderful, very clear water. It´s a fair walk, about 5 km, but it´s not as if I have anything else to do.
I´m enjoying Silencio so far even if it´s really remote and connections with the rest of the world limited. I can think of worse places to be.
I hope to be back in Quepos next Saturday, and I´ll try to download some photos.
The last two days in Uvita were fun-filled. Monday two volunteers, a fellow traveler, and I hiked up the river to the waterfall where I jumped off the rope swing into a swimming hole. The impact left my body stinging and out of breath, and it wasn´t something I wanted to repeat. Nonetheless, I was glad I did it. Better was sliding down the waterfall. It´s about 25-30 feet high. You climb to the top, sit in it, and then push yourself off and slide down. Quite exhilirating. Alle said I came up out of the water with the same expression on my face as before, so she thought I dídn´t like it, but then I burst out with, That was awesome. It was well worth it, and I´d do it again in a heartbeat. OK, well maybe not a heartbeat. It takes me a little time to work up the courage to push off, but I´d still do it and enjoy it.
Tuesday was different because it was Independence Day here in Costa Rica so all the staff had the day off. Alle, Kevin, and I were the housekeeping crew for the day, which was a nice change. We cleaned a few rooms and I washed enough sheets, towels, and rugs that Tra actually let me use the dryer as long as I promised not to tell the staff. He doesn´t let them use it because it´s too expensive. Alle and I also managed to sneak in some of our clothes in the last load for free.
In the afternoon we walked to the river where we found Ticos (locals) swimming in what we had designated as our spot. They were spearfishing and swimming, and I was shocked at the size of the fish that came out of the spot where we were swimming, and I tried not to think about it when we got in.
Tuesday night several of us decided to volunteer on a turtle project doing a night patrol. We crowded into a taxi and made a short journey to Ojochal. We were to meet a man named Alex where the road ended. (Sound like a drug deal? It felt like it.) We arrived early and stalled the taxi driver so we wouldn´t have to get out in the middle of nowhere where we were sure there could be crocodiles.
Alex finally showed and he put us in a boat for a short ride across the river, where, yes, there are crocodiles, to the beach. He explained the project and what we would do, and then we spent a couple of hours walking the beach looking for turtles laying eggs. We only saw one, and she was injured. It was her fourth trip on the beach, and she still hasn´t lain her eggs. They believe she won´t be able to make a nest with her flippers, that she´ll eventually just drop the eggs on the beach. I hope that they are there when she does so that the poachers don´t get them. It was a nice night, and I carried on a good conversation in espanol with one of the workers.
Wednesday I made the journey to Silencio, which was adventure-filled. I explained to the bus driver where I wanted to go, asked him if he knew it, and if he would tell me when we got there. A bit later I asked him again and he said 20 minutes. An hour later (and the bus was too crowded to ask again) we arrived in Quepos, past my destination. I finally determined that the next bus directly to Silencio wasn´t for two more days, that I could take a bus that would drop me off 6 kilometers away. Or I could take a $26 taxi. I didn´t want to spend the night in Quepos for two nights, and I decided $26 was a small price to pay for not walking 6 km with a 45-pound backpack. Good thing as it was pouring rain when we got there.
I was introduced to my new family at Arianna´s, which is right in the center of town (virtually everything is in the center of town since only 500 people live there), and my room. The home is modest like all the others there, but it´s comfortable as long as I keep the fan going in my room and there is water. Sometimes there´s no water and I have to wait to shower. And having to use the kitchen sink or the sink outside to brush my teeth is inconvenient, but there´s no sink in the bathroom.
Arianna is part of a big family; she has 10 brothers and sisters. Almost always there are a lot of people there: brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grandparents, etc. Plenty of people to communicate with, although there are only a few who make an attempt to speak with me really. Arianna is wonderful with me, speaking more slowly to me than her family so that I understand. And Danny, who I think is her brother and who sometimes lives there, is also great. He speaks a little English and wants to learn more.
I started work on Thursday, and the work was minimal. Friday was more. We have to be ready at 6 a.m. and we cut fruit and veggies for the monkeys, birds, and the lone fawn they rescued who they aptly named Bambi. Then we go back to our homes for breakfast and a break. Around 8:30 we go back for more work until about 12. Yesterday was rough work--shoveling rocks and mud. I was quite filthy when I finished and wouldn´t you know it, this was one of the days I had to wait to shower because there was no water.
In the afternoon one of the workers, a local who befriended me named Christopher, took me on a tour of the rest of their projects--lecheria (where they milk cows), orchard (where they get papayas and bananas), and a chicken farm. I have the opportunity to work in all of them, and I guess over the three weeks I´ll do just that. I want to try the lecheria next, just to make my Uncle Kenneth proud. I´m sure he´d tell me if I want to milk cows, I´m welcome to come out there. But here I´ll be hand milking. A little scary.
Work ends at about 12 each day and then we´re free until the next day. There isn´t anything to do in town. There is one store, one little soda shop, and a bar. I usually go to the bar late afternoon and hang out with a bunch of the guys who work for the project where I´m volunteering. I´m really working on my Spanish with them and am improving, and one of them wants to work on his English so we trade words. He asks me how to say something in English, and I ask him how to say things in Spanish and to correct me when I say something incorrectly.
I´m free on weekends. Today, Saturday, I got up at 4:30 this morning to catch the bus into town. It´s the only bus of the day or I definitely would´ve slept in (though it would be difficult because the entire town wakes up at 5 every morning). This morning I went to the beach at Manuel Antonio National Park. It´s absolutely stunning, and there are lots of restaurants and places to buy souvenirs. I splurged on a silk dress that I can wear three different ways. I´m considering it a birthday present to myself, and I plan to wear it tonight to sink karaoke at the bar in town.
Tomorrow the guys play soccer mid-day and then we may go to one of the two waterfalls where we can swim. Two of the other volunteers went to it yesterday and said it was wonderful, very clear water. It´s a fair walk, about 5 km, but it´s not as if I have anything else to do.
I´m enjoying Silencio so far even if it´s really remote and connections with the rest of the world limited. I can think of worse places to be.
I hope to be back in Quepos next Saturday, and I´ll try to download some photos.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Settled in Uvita
I definitely feel settled in Uvita and have fallen into a routine. I work from about 10-3 give or take an hour or so, check my e-mail, shower, and then lay back in the hammock to catch the 4 o'clock flick, dinner after that and then some reading before bed. I'm making this place into a temporary home.
Yesterday I woke up early to walk to the beach to be there at low tide. At low tide a piece of land called the whale's tail emerges, jutting out from the beach, and I arrived at a good time, about 8:00 after a 45-minute walk to get there. The beach is gorgeous and at that time of the morning, the only people there were a few boat captains readying their boats for the whale and dolphin seeing trips. By the time I left the beach an hour later, the little town of Punta Uvita was buzzing with tourists, and I made the 45-minute walk back to the hotel trying to ignore the blisters that were emerging on my feet. Oh, and carrying a piece of driftwood that I plan to use for some kind of decoration.
I started into work right away on my lamp shade. Over the hammocks in the "theater," there is only a naked bulb, and Tra said if nothing else happens from my stay but one thing he'd like a lamp shade for it. Four hours later, he had his wish. I've yet to take a picture because it needs to be hanging in order to get a good pic, and he believes, and I agree, that hanging it is a little more than I can handle, especially given that I'm a little height-challenged. He'll ask one of his employees to do the honors. I decided to give the lamp shade a movie theme since it will hang in the theater, so I chose 10 of my favorite movies and selected a quote from each, which I then wrote on a CD that hangs from the wire frame. See if you can identify each of these movies without cheating:
#1: I will find you, and I will kill you.
#2: I want the fairy tale.
#3: You didn't think I knew about that, did you?
#4: In the end all you have is your story. I intend to make it a good one.
#5: That's all you got, lady, two left feet and ugly shoes.
#6: How you like them apples?
#7: I'm having an old friend for dinner.
#8: I'll never let go.
#9: You take the red pill . . . I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
#10: Attitude reflects leadership, Captain.
This morning I decided to tackle accessorizing a piece of metal that can be used as two hooks for one of the rooms. I ended up making two origami toucans and some paper palm leaves that I affixed to it. It looks pretty cool if I do say so myself. I tried to work on another decorative piece after that, but the creative juices had subsided, and I figured I should take the opportunity to use a computer while all the guests are out and about. Tra had a full house last night and will again tonight, which is surprising given that it's the off season.
Work is done for the day, and my Saturday afternoon and evening will be much like the last two: movie and reading. There aren't really any single travelers here, and those that travel together tend to stick together, but I'm content to be on my own. Most of them only stay two nights anyway.
Pics being loaded to facebook right now.
Yesterday I woke up early to walk to the beach to be there at low tide. At low tide a piece of land called the whale's tail emerges, jutting out from the beach, and I arrived at a good time, about 8:00 after a 45-minute walk to get there. The beach is gorgeous and at that time of the morning, the only people there were a few boat captains readying their boats for the whale and dolphin seeing trips. By the time I left the beach an hour later, the little town of Punta Uvita was buzzing with tourists, and I made the 45-minute walk back to the hotel trying to ignore the blisters that were emerging on my feet. Oh, and carrying a piece of driftwood that I plan to use for some kind of decoration.
I started into work right away on my lamp shade. Over the hammocks in the "theater," there is only a naked bulb, and Tra said if nothing else happens from my stay but one thing he'd like a lamp shade for it. Four hours later, he had his wish. I've yet to take a picture because it needs to be hanging in order to get a good pic, and he believes, and I agree, that hanging it is a little more than I can handle, especially given that I'm a little height-challenged. He'll ask one of his employees to do the honors. I decided to give the lamp shade a movie theme since it will hang in the theater, so I chose 10 of my favorite movies and selected a quote from each, which I then wrote on a CD that hangs from the wire frame. See if you can identify each of these movies without cheating:
#1: I will find you, and I will kill you.
#2: I want the fairy tale.
#3: You didn't think I knew about that, did you?
#4: In the end all you have is your story. I intend to make it a good one.
#5: That's all you got, lady, two left feet and ugly shoes.
#6: How you like them apples?
#7: I'm having an old friend for dinner.
#8: I'll never let go.
#9: You take the red pill . . . I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
#10: Attitude reflects leadership, Captain.
This morning I decided to tackle accessorizing a piece of metal that can be used as two hooks for one of the rooms. I ended up making two origami toucans and some paper palm leaves that I affixed to it. It looks pretty cool if I do say so myself. I tried to work on another decorative piece after that, but the creative juices had subsided, and I figured I should take the opportunity to use a computer while all the guests are out and about. Tra had a full house last night and will again tonight, which is surprising given that it's the off season.
Work is done for the day, and my Saturday afternoon and evening will be much like the last two: movie and reading. There aren't really any single travelers here, and those that travel together tend to stick together, but I'm content to be on my own. Most of them only stay two nights anyway.
Pics being loaded to facebook right now.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
This is Cheesa Mann reporting live from Uvita . . .
. . . and dedicating this post to her good mate Cat to whom she was talking as she was penning this entry.
So San Jose was totally forgettable. The hostel was nice enough, but the city, well, it was either raining or nighttime. And shall we not talk about the roach that crawled across the table in the restaurant where I had lunch on Monday? It crawled to the underside of the table and I cringed thinking it might turn up on my side. It at least gave me proper etiquette as I quickly pulled my elbows off the table. We probably also don't want to talk about the big roach I killed in my room this morning or the one in the shower this afternoon.
The 6 plus hours on the bus from San Jose to Uvita could've been better. Incredibly hot, people standing in the aisle much of the way, lots of stops for locals to get on and off, and then like a gigantic moron I missed my stop, mistakenly thinking it would be announced like the previous stop was. I realized fairly quickly and only had to make a 12-minute walk back to the hotel, which wouldn't have been bad if it hadn't been at least 90 degrees and I wasn't carrying 50 pounds. Can you say sweat?
The Tucan Hotel, www.tucanhotel.com, is amazingly cool, though. Pics to come on facebook. They have five hammocks hanging in front of a TV with a DVD player hooked to it and they show a different movie each day at around 4. The room is nice with a mattress as thick as my hand is long. Now I know those of you at home are thinking, that's nice? But given that it's twice as thick as any that I've slept on since I got here and that my hip doesn't bruise from feeling the boards underneath, this is a sweet sleep. Plus, nice sheets and a fan right over my bed to keep me cool. Since I'll be volunteering here for a couple of weeks, the owner said he'd try to keep my room as private as possible even though there are three other beds in there.
After my arrival yesterday, I took a quick cold shower to cool down and immediately headed up the road to a waterfall. Didn't stay long, but long enough to take a quick dip in the pool there. I definitely plan to go back. Haven't been to the beach yet because you have to go at low tide, so I'll have to time it just right, otherwise you get stranded.
Today I was up at 6 for the dive trip. It was a 45-minute drive to Sierpe with stories from the guide along the way. In Sierpe we had an awesome breakfast--eggs, bacon, and a pancake which I slathered with peanut butter and syrup--YUM! The boat ride was a long one. Thirty minutes down the Sierpe River to the ocean and then another 45 to Isla de Cano. Along the way we saw one crocodile and a pod of dolphins, and I captured some of the dolphins, who were quite playful, on video.
After pushing the snorkelers out of the boat, the divemaster, another diver, and I rolled off the boat into the water and did a 49-minute dive where we saw several reef sharks, some southern stingrays, and loads and loads of fish, more than I've ever seen on a dive probably. At times it felt like I was actually swimming in a school of fish.
We had lunch on the island and then headed right back into the water for dive number 2. As soon as we dropped into the water we could hear whales: a mama and her baby talking back and forth. You could hear a distinct difference between the two, with the baby having a much higher pitch. For the entire dive we could hear them communicating and I kept expecting to turn around at any moment and see one of them--no such luck. Divemaster said they could've been up to a half mile away. On this dive, more sharks, lots of fish again. One fish quickly made my favorite list as he looks like he just joined the US Army with his camouflage exterior. A couple of time fish swam right in front of my face as if I wasn't even there.
Upon picking up the snorkelers I was really glad I was a diver. Several of them were stung by jellyfish, little ones mind you, but they were stinging nonetheless, so they got a little dose of vinegar to the skin.
On the way back we saw the mama and baby whales that we had heard underwater, and I shot some video luckily. The baby was only 4-5 days old according to our guide, Cesar. We watched for a while before losing sight of them.
All in all, it was an unforgettable day, the complete opposite of San Jose thankfully. And tomorrow I start work here at the hotel doing I don't know what. I'll try to go to bed early and hope that the thief doesn't come poking around again in the wee hours of the morning. Yep, at 4:30 this morning there was a flashlight being shined into my room. Fortunately I had a towel hanging over the end of the bed so he didn't see me, and luckily the door was deadbolted since he tried the door as well! Just a Tico (local) who has been thieving from here lately according to the owner. Good to know as last night when I would go to the bathroom, I left my door partially open so I wouldn't have to use the key. Not so tonight buddy!
Until next time, this is Cheesa Mann reporting live from a computer that she just knocked a grasshopper off of and watched an ant crawl across!
So San Jose was totally forgettable. The hostel was nice enough, but the city, well, it was either raining or nighttime. And shall we not talk about the roach that crawled across the table in the restaurant where I had lunch on Monday? It crawled to the underside of the table and I cringed thinking it might turn up on my side. It at least gave me proper etiquette as I quickly pulled my elbows off the table. We probably also don't want to talk about the big roach I killed in my room this morning or the one in the shower this afternoon.
The 6 plus hours on the bus from San Jose to Uvita could've been better. Incredibly hot, people standing in the aisle much of the way, lots of stops for locals to get on and off, and then like a gigantic moron I missed my stop, mistakenly thinking it would be announced like the previous stop was. I realized fairly quickly and only had to make a 12-minute walk back to the hotel, which wouldn't have been bad if it hadn't been at least 90 degrees and I wasn't carrying 50 pounds. Can you say sweat?
The Tucan Hotel, www.tucanhotel.com, is amazingly cool, though. Pics to come on facebook. They have five hammocks hanging in front of a TV with a DVD player hooked to it and they show a different movie each day at around 4. The room is nice with a mattress as thick as my hand is long. Now I know those of you at home are thinking, that's nice? But given that it's twice as thick as any that I've slept on since I got here and that my hip doesn't bruise from feeling the boards underneath, this is a sweet sleep. Plus, nice sheets and a fan right over my bed to keep me cool. Since I'll be volunteering here for a couple of weeks, the owner said he'd try to keep my room as private as possible even though there are three other beds in there.
After my arrival yesterday, I took a quick cold shower to cool down and immediately headed up the road to a waterfall. Didn't stay long, but long enough to take a quick dip in the pool there. I definitely plan to go back. Haven't been to the beach yet because you have to go at low tide, so I'll have to time it just right, otherwise you get stranded.
Today I was up at 6 for the dive trip. It was a 45-minute drive to Sierpe with stories from the guide along the way. In Sierpe we had an awesome breakfast--eggs, bacon, and a pancake which I slathered with peanut butter and syrup--YUM! The boat ride was a long one. Thirty minutes down the Sierpe River to the ocean and then another 45 to Isla de Cano. Along the way we saw one crocodile and a pod of dolphins, and I captured some of the dolphins, who were quite playful, on video.
After pushing the snorkelers out of the boat, the divemaster, another diver, and I rolled off the boat into the water and did a 49-minute dive where we saw several reef sharks, some southern stingrays, and loads and loads of fish, more than I've ever seen on a dive probably. At times it felt like I was actually swimming in a school of fish.
We had lunch on the island and then headed right back into the water for dive number 2. As soon as we dropped into the water we could hear whales: a mama and her baby talking back and forth. You could hear a distinct difference between the two, with the baby having a much higher pitch. For the entire dive we could hear them communicating and I kept expecting to turn around at any moment and see one of them--no such luck. Divemaster said they could've been up to a half mile away. On this dive, more sharks, lots of fish again. One fish quickly made my favorite list as he looks like he just joined the US Army with his camouflage exterior. A couple of time fish swam right in front of my face as if I wasn't even there.
Upon picking up the snorkelers I was really glad I was a diver. Several of them were stung by jellyfish, little ones mind you, but they were stinging nonetheless, so they got a little dose of vinegar to the skin.
On the way back we saw the mama and baby whales that we had heard underwater, and I shot some video luckily. The baby was only 4-5 days old according to our guide, Cesar. We watched for a while before losing sight of them.
All in all, it was an unforgettable day, the complete opposite of San Jose thankfully. And tomorrow I start work here at the hotel doing I don't know what. I'll try to go to bed early and hope that the thief doesn't come poking around again in the wee hours of the morning. Yep, at 4:30 this morning there was a flashlight being shined into my room. Fortunately I had a towel hanging over the end of the bed so he didn't see me, and luckily the door was deadbolted since he tried the door as well! Just a Tico (local) who has been thieving from here lately according to the owner. Good to know as last night when I would go to the bathroom, I left my door partially open so I wouldn't have to use the key. Not so tonight buddy!
Until next time, this is Cheesa Mann reporting live from a computer that she just knocked a grasshopper off of and watched an ant crawl across!
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