Cuentos de Costa Rica- Puro Paseo AGAIN! ♬ the Ballad of los Come-Huevos ♬

Pri, Mary, Luis y yo!

It seems I am always on vacation in Costa Rica (well of course I am, because I’m sure as hell not working!)  I’ve been actively traveling since I arrived, and that is due to the intrepid spirit of my compañeros aventureros. I was invited to go with Pri, Luis, and their friends to a place they spoke of with great excitement- La Fortuna in the region of San Carlos.  We would be staying for a few nights in a cabin outside of a town in a rural province, a base from which to set out for the incredible natural formation there…

Volcan Arenal

The car journey took a few hours, and my friends noticed that I was exceptionally quiet the entire time. I had to explain with some embarrassment that, although I did know Spanish, I had NO IDEA what they had been saying! It then dawned on them that they had been speaking in almost pure Costa Rican slang… they could not stop laughing! We arrived at our cabin and unloaded our belongings, but we were eager to go see what we came there for. So we packed some snacks and drove to find a spot for come-huevos- literally: “egg-eaters,” it means experiencing for free what you would otherwise have to pay for (they finally started teaching me the slang!) We used this phrase a LOT during the trip, as by the end of it we had fully converted into come-huevos. My initiation began in a spot along the road where we could see the dominating feature of the landscape: a 5,358 ft high cindercone volcano rising sharply and dramatically from the otherwise flat terrain, the impressive Volcán Arenal. We then drove to the national park to do some hiking. At the entrance, I passed for Costa Rican and thus got in to the park for free! (come-huevos strike again!) We spent awhile there and took some amazing photos of the volcano and then went back to the cabin to eat and prepare for what we had planned that night.

We drank some birras (Costa Rican for “cervezas,” don’tcha know) and made our way back to the volcano to try to see an eruption. We were extremely lucky that the summit wasn’t obscured by clouds, as that is the case on almost every other day of the year. From our viewpoint in the national park, we could see the crater ringed in fiery shades of red, orange, and yellow. However, there wasn’t much activity. Mariana decided that we couldn’t just sit around and hope something would happen; she took matters into her own hands. She began a very entertaining lava chant. We all laughingly joined in and, surprisingly enough, the gods of geothermal energy answered! Hot lava burst diagonally out of the top and bounced thousands of feat down the peak, explosive splashes of color igniting the side of the mountain. We squealed in delight and celebrated our success with dancing and of course more drinks!

The next day we headed to the hot springs! A magma-heated river flows away from the base of Arenal, and as a result several resorts have set up shop, purchasing this land and charging for access to the heated water. Again, the come-huevos foiled capitalist intentions. We drove along and looked out for more of our kind… cars parked on the side of the road indicated their location. We pulled up and found a whole bunch of come-huevos! We all went down to the stream, which didn’t have paved walkways or railings to hold onto while getting in the water, but this didn’t deter us because we were happy to be in untouched (and free) nature!

la poza

Later on we did give in and buy a day-pass to one of the resorts. We had previewed another one and weren’t impressed- we explained this to the proprietors in a conversation made quite awkward by the fact that we had a farting machine in the car (funny in any language!) We decided on the most famous resort, reluctantly legitimizing its claim to this natural resource, but wow was it cool! It had dozens of pools of varying temperatures and we thoroughly enjoyed soaking in them. But we could not deny for long our come-huevos customs. We had seen another place along a bridge where several cars were parked, although we had no idea why. Our curiosity overcame us and we stopped to investigate. There, 30 feet or so under the bridge, was a waterfall! The rushing water had also created a poza (swimming spot) a deep pool perfect for swimming. The other people there were locals, who explained that they came almost every day, and showed us all the secrets to enjoying our time there- a rope swing you could throw yourself off of into the water, a place on the waterfall you could stand and jump from, even a way to get under the waterfall by alternately swimming and pulling yourself along the sheer rock wall against the strong current. We spent hours there amusing ourselves, and even went back again the next day!

The entire trip was great- the sights and activities themselves were amazing- but it was made all the more fun by the fun-loving company I kept … and also I am now a professional “egg-eater” =)

Cuentos de Costa Rica- Puro Paseo

I'd like to offer some "snapshots" into what I've been up to, because every day here has been amazing =)

puesta del sol

-Went on my first solo "paseo" (literally: "pass-time"… in English, think "excursion"). As per the suggestion of my adopted family here, I took a bus to Manuel Antonio, a tourist beach next to a National Park of the same name. Set back in the trees, my second-floor wooden hotel room was scorching. The only relief could be found right by the water's edge. I found a stretch of beach that was somewhat calm, away from the chaos of the expensive restaurants and bars and the package-vacation crowds that frequent them (my "Mami" had sent me with enough fruit and sandwiches to last the days I would be there so that I could avoid having to pay steep prices for my meals). I laid down in the shade of the palm trees and held a staring contest with an arm-length iguana perched near me while listening to the waves crashing against the shore. I stayed until sunset, which was of course gorgeous (I am seriously spoiled for how many sunsets-on-the-beach I have experienced in my life). 

playa del Parque Manuel Antonio

-The next day I woke up early to get to the park before it was hot. I was shocked that I appeared to be the only person who was not in a tour-group. Guides carried their telescopes and set them up for sloth viewings. I never saw a sloth while I was there, but the other wildlife wouldn't disappoint me. I made my way down the trail and suddenly a small bejeweled beach appeared out of the palms, its sparkling aquamarine water calmly brushing the sand. The water was surprisingly warm and I floated in the waves for awhile until I noticed activity on the shore. A band of white-faced capuchin monkeys had come to entertain the beach-goers with their antics! They played and lazed around in the trees, some of the bolder ones even coming down to the ground to have a look at the people. But it wasn't the people they were interested in; it was their food. My lunchtime picnic was punctuated by pairs of eyes intently watching me eat. I spent the entire day on that beach, alternately reading and taking dips in the crystal water, later taking a long walk back to my cabin along the beach, trying to remain in the shadow of the trees to prevent sunburn. I enjoyed my short time in that gorgeous place, and then it was back to mi familia and Chepe (San Jose’s affectionate nickname).

capuchin cansado (tal vez perezoso)

Tito, Mary y yo en la Volcan Poas

-Tito knocked on my door at 7am. "You want to go to a volcano?" My excitement was only partially dulled by my grogginess. I showered quickly and got into the car and we were off: me, Tito, Mariana, her mom, and her mom's boyfriend. On the drive we stopped to buy some beautiful fresh strawberries that were grown on the mountain. They were demolished by the time we reached the summit. Volcán Poás is one of the only volcanoes in the world where you can drive almost all the way to the crater. It has earned the nickname as the "World's Biggest Geyser" because it nearly constantly spews a smoke of sulfuric acid. The rancid smell did not have the chance to detract much from the sight though. Wildflowers in hues of purple and pink grew around the rim and acrobatic swallows twirled and dove from invisible trapeze to catch unseen insects. The combination of smoke and clouds finally cleared for several moments to reveal a cyan colored lake in the crater below.

el bosque nuboso

-From that crater we hiked to its inactive brother on a trail through a very unique mossy forest. Trees twisted around each other like gnarled fingers intertwined, not aggressive or overbearing but in perfect harmony. Silence was strung between the branches like a spider's web, catching conversation and stopping it dead. We emerged at the edge of the crater overlooking a lake, this time filled with actual water. The forest crept down over the side to stand mesmerized by its own reflection at the water's edge. A group of nuns were gathered at the overlook and we decided to go talk to them and ask them where they were from. The women were of the order of the Missionaries of Charity, established by Mother Theresa of Calcutta, and the group represented all of the countries in Central America and many from further abroad as well. The woman we spoke to was from India and had spent much time with Mother Theresa towards the end of her life. We spent more time talking with her about Costa Rica and traveling before we headed back to our car.

el lago volcánico

-On the way back home, we decided to make a detour to a waterfall garden. While we were driving it soon became apparent that the landscape had gone through a change recently. My companions informed me that only one year ago a major earthquake had devastated the area, including a landslide that had wiped out a small town. The family I stayed with had worked in their community to collect relief items (food, blankets, etc.) and brought them to the area for the people who had been affected by the quake. They told a story of a factory which had to shut down its production as a result of the disaster, which would have meant the loss of hundreds of jobs for the local people. However, instead of packing up and relocating, the company saved the jobs for the workers and the whole community worked to speedily re-start production. I was very inspired by this story. Although it was evident that there was a lot of work to be done, I had no doubt that this community, along with wider support from their country, would be able to get back on its feet before too long. We arrived at our destination, a torrent of white water, loud and fast, falling hundreds of feet from its origin, against a backdrop of a dark cliff face covered with brilliant green plants that spilled over the rocks like runny oil-paints. We posed for funny pictures and avoided sliding in the muddy trail. Then, lamenting the end of our "paseo", we got back in the car and drove home to the city.

Cuentos de Costa Rica- Now about that rich coast...

los surfeos

On Sunday, I went with the oldest cousin Tito, his mom, and his girlfriend Mariana to the beach. Jacó is a very small town that nevertheless sees a lot of action due to its proximity to San Jose. This day there were not too many people stationed on the dark sand and therefore it was perfect! Mariana taught me how to use a boogie board in the ocean waves. Catching the waves (or rather, the waves catching me) was extremely thrilling. I even screamed in surprise at one point when I found my board pointed downward instead of parallel as a wave pushed me all the way back to the water’s edge. Later, Mariana told everyone how I was “having as much fun as a little kid!”

las puntadas de Mary

After eating a picnic lunch, we decided to have a surf lesson with Tito. Mariana and I followed him into the water. Mariana, who has done surfing a bit before, went first. She practiced standing up, something that I could picture taking a long time to learn. After one such effort she came out from under the surf and started making her way back to us in deeper water. Suddenly, the board that was attached to her ankle bucked up into the air on top of a wave and came crashing down on her face! She stood still for a moment, looking a bit dazed, but seemed to be no worse for the wear. Suddenly, blood started gushing out from a cut on the bridge of her nose. We ran for her, and Tito helped her back to the beach. We doctored her as best we could, cleaning the wound with water, using napkins and ice to stop the bleeding. When it had stopped and we were able to see the wound more clearly, it was apparent she would need stitches. Tito took her to a nearby hospital and we all waited for them to come back. So I didn’t get to surf, nor would I have wanted to anymore that day, but I was content to play in the waves.

I had been trying to stay out of the sun all day but I would be leaving with my usual souvenir from every visit to a beach: a painful red sunburn. Before we left, we took a drive up a hill to a lookout point. The hill itself was heavily forested and as night was approaching we could hear many birds and insects singing serenades. Native animals frolicked in beautiful stone reliefs that lined the dirt road. We then walked along another smaller path through the jungle until it opened into a long and elliptical balcony painted and set with white tiles. Stairs wove in and out and up and down, the railings adorning them like lace trim. An electrical cord with a few lit bulbs was strung across the length of the structure; where it would provide light in the space of half an hour, it now only served to contribute to the charming atmosphere. The view was incredible, the balcony and tree branches providing a frame for what could not be enclosed. My sight stumbled and rolled down the hill to the beach, laid out in front of me like an infinite-course meal; my eyes could not eat and drink enough of the spread.

I declared I would like to live there forever, even if I must bring a tent. Actually, it is already a house, or the skeleton of one, and skeleton is the correct word to use, for there is a rumor that the Italian who left the house unfinished just up and vanished, possibly taken away by the police. But enough of the macabre. From here we watched the sunset, a red glowing orb sinking down into chalky blue water. Then we got into the car to drive “home,” as I’m all too easily starting to think of San Jose. On the way, I related some of the tales of my travels. My companions listened patiently to my stories that probably took more than twice as long as it would take a native speaker to relate them, and then they were still gracious enough to praise me by saying how well I spoke Spanish!

Mami y yo

Buena gente- good people. Good people are why I keep doing this, packing up and getting out into the world larger than my home state and country, putting myself in unfamiliar places, experiencing levels of discomfort varying from slight to great. Good people are why I only spent one night in a hotel the entire month I was in India. Good people are why I kept going, staying away three more months than planned and visiting four more countries than I originally intended. Good people are who first inspired me to leave (twice!) and who encouraged me to continue despite difficulties faced. Good people are why I travel. I mean sure there’s also a lot of cool stuff to see, but I never would go see them or enjoy them half as much if it weren’t for the people who sent me or found me there. I’m so pleased to say I’m staying with some of the best right now =)

Cuentos de Costa Rica (stories from Costa Rica)

I have been in Costa Rica only a short while, and although I have just seen the Coast for the first time yesterday, I had already been experiencing the Rich-ness daily since my arrival ;) My friend Claudia’s cousins picked me up at the airport. Pri, who I had been communicating with by email, gave me a hug and as we drove provided helpful orientation to the city. The family received me into the house with the warmest of welcomes and showed me to my own room! (which had actually been appropriated from the youngest brother, Luis). The next day poor Luis also drove me around to do errands. When I changed money in the bank the teller only spoke to me in Spanish; I was pleasantly surprised that I could complete the transaction with not even a day’s warm-up!

The next few days were spent planning and carrying out job interviews. Again Luis drove me to both of them and even waited for me for 45 minutes at each one! I really do not deserve this much kindness. The interviews went well- I was offered both jobs! Now I just need to complete a third interview today and then it seems I will have my pick =) The cousins have spent significant time with me taking me around. I was able to get my fix of the English language in healthy doses as they all spoke English very well (I never realized I’d be so grateful for this, but when adjusting to a new country that one has just moved to, it is very helpful to be able to speak one’s native language, not only for logistics but also for emotional support). Luis drove me around downtown pointing out landmarks. Pri took me with her on the bus so that I could get to know the mind-boggling process of transferring =/ They both explained Costa Rican directions over and over to no avail; I still don’t get it. *Example: this section of that neighborhood, 50 meters south and 75 east of the field, the yellow house on the right with orange trim. Yes that’s the “address” of the house here!

Tomorrow for my interview I will need to get on the bus to go downtown, then I need to walk to the park past a church and stay on the side of the bank to find the green buses that say they’re going to Hospital Mexico. I will tell the driver to drop me off at the Toyota dealer and then head east, away from another park, until I see a Subway (the American sandwich chain, not an underground train), then I turn right and walk 200 meters south and the building is there across from yet another park. What a headache! I have to pysch myself up more for arriving at the interview than for the interview itself! While this all might seem ridiculously confusing right now, I know that in a few months I will probably be a pro at using the buses and determining directions and I won’t know what I ever thought was so difficult about it.

On the weekend the cousins invited me out with their friends. One unforgettable meal was an extremely greasy (and extremely delicious!) empanada filled with chicharrón (fried pork rinds). This alone could be the deciding factor in whether I can ever become a full-time vegetarian. I tried out different combinations of sauces and condiments on the divine morsels: lemon juice from lemons that are green with a light orange interior, only slightly sweeter than yellow lemons; a sweet tomato salsa that I liked best; a mix of carrots and cabbage that had an almost clear sauce dripped over them, disguising the reality of its spiciness; and a Costa Rican favorite, salsa Lizano- a brown sauce in a bottle that is both spicy and sweet and smells delicious due to its quantity of cumin, which Pri assured me would not be good with chicharrón but which I was determined to try regardless (result: not bad!).

Indeed it’s hard to go wrong with the food here. Claudia’s aunt Vilma (originally from El Salvador) is a very good cook and we often eat meat flavored by various succulent seasonings. But there are two staples that I eat everyday that would be sufficient for me even though they are not considered main dishes. The first is gallo pinto; the second, maduros. Gallo pinto is a mix of red beans that have been cooked in, you guessed it, salsa Lizano, along with plain white rice (¡Qúe rico!) And then there are maduros. I think anybody who has ever had these just loves them. Sweet, firm plantains fried in oil. Simple, but soo good! And sadly, a habit I will have to kick soon (all that oil is really not good for you).