Saturday night, a new student arrived at Zeneida's house. Linda flew in from Switzerland around 9:30 PM, but I was so tired that I went to bed early and didn't get to meet her until the following morning. For her it was just a one-night stay in Heredia before heading off to Intercultura Sámara. She was an almost complete beginner, so when I finally met her at breakfast she was relieved to find out that I spoke English. I told her about the experiences I had in my last four weeks and wished her the best in her travels. I hugged Zeneida and Linda goodbye as they took off for the Empresa Alfaro bus station in San José. They left good and early around 10:15 even though the bus didn't leave until 12 noon. President Hu Jintao of China was about to arrive in the capital so they were anticipating heavy traffic or at least a few unexpected detours. As for myself, Zeneida's friend Maritza and her husband Jorge picked me up at Zeneida's and took me to the airport. I gave them 5,000 colones for their gas and time (which was still less than what I would've paid for a taxi). Thankfully, my flight left just about an hour before Hu's plane was scheduled to touch down, so we avoided much of the traffic that probably would've surrounded Juan Santamaría Airport upon his arrival.
As I write this, I'm at El Salvador International Airport waiting for my flight back to San Francisco. The accent is a little different here so it took a moment for me to get used to. Unfortunately, when I booked my flight home I had to choose between a 30-minute layover and a three-hour one. I chose the latter just to be safe, so I'm here for another hour and a half before my flight leaves. Thankfully, the wi-fi is free so I'm able to pass the time by pretty quickly. At this moment Linda, Melissa, Mireilla and Tara are probably at Intercultura Sámara getting ready for their tour of the town before settling into their homestays. I wish them, and all the other friends I left behind in Costa Rica, all the best in their travels. Many thanks to all the people who made this an unforgettable trip, including Monteverde Extremo, Jardines Arenal, Rinconcito Lodge, and all the tour guides, surf instructors and random people I met in between. Of course, I must give special thanks to Intercultura and my two Tica moms, as well as Amerispan, the study-abroad agency that helped me find the Spanish program that was right for me.
Thank you for tagging along with me during this wonderful journey. May your travels in life likewise take you to many unforgettable places. ¡Pura vida!
Sunday, November 16
Saturday, November 15
Cultural notes, part 4
Yesterday after graduation, I hugged Mireilla and Melissa goodbye as they headed off into the rainforest and on to Sámara this weekend. I had lunch at Café Mambo with Ken and Ellie, the students I shared Zeneida's house with my first week in Costa Rica. They're living in an apartment now and have a knack for making gallo pinto and a few other local dishes. Tara and Alison, two of the girls I met my first week in Heredia, are off to Sámara tomorrow as well so we went out to La Rumba Disco last night to go dancing one last time. I wished all of them well and knew they'd have an amazing time on the beach.
A few parting cultural notes on this, my final Saturday afternoon in Costa Rica:
A few parting cultural notes on this, my final Saturday afternoon in Costa Rica:
- Tiquismos – local variations on Spanish that are unique to Costa Rica and/or Central America
- usted – Though considered formal in standard Spanish, this is the everyday way of saying "you" in Costa Rica regardless of the relationship between the speaker and listener. Vos is highly familiar and usually reserved for long-time friendships. Tú – which in most other dialects may be mildly familiar – is intimately familiar in Tico Spanish and traditionally used only with lovers and God. On the other hand, Silvia suggested to me one time that the continuing homogenization of Latin culture through mass media may have the power to change that, as young people grow up with pan-Latin television, movies and music which promote the non-Tico usage of tú.
- ¿Cuánto vale? – the local variant of ¿Cuánto cuesta? ("How much does it cost?") which literally means "How much is it worth?"
- Con (mucho) gusto – "You're welcome." It literally means, "With (great) pleasure" so it has a much warmer meaning than the standard de nada ("It's nothing") which I've never heard once in Costa Rica.
- tranquil – I've heard this from many people, including Zeneida. It is a shortened form of tranquilo ("calm") and as an exclamation ("¡Tránquil!") is used to mean "No problem" or "Don't worry about it" as far as I can tell. This would make it roughly equivalent to No problema or possibly even No te preocupes or No se preocupe.
- pulpería – a convenience store, roughly analogous to 7-Eleven
- plata – another word for "money" that's much more common here and in other parts of Latin America than the standard dinero. It literally means "silver" and reflects the importance of silver currency in the history of many Latin American countries.
- cien metros – "one hundred meters," the standard way of refering to a city block regardless of its actual length
- mae – a tag word roughly equivalent to "dude" or "man," e.g., ¡Tuanis, mae! ("Cool, man!")
- As with many rural towns, the population in Sámara is too small to support a dedicated high school. Norma's granddaughter Dailis thus rides to Nicoya two hours each way, every weekday, to go to school.
- Even the dogs are friendly in Costa Rica. They walk the streets freely and never wear leashes. Not once has a dog barked at me while I've been here. Sometimes, a random dog will even follow you like he's your pet. So if you plan to visit Costa Rica, know that being a dog lover is practically a requirement!
- Going to a salsa club is a different experience from the U.S. or other parts of the world. For one thing, the style of salsa dancing is completely different here and I've only started to get used to it. The clubs also tend to play a more even mix of different styles – salsa, reggaeton, merengue and cumbia. Lastly, it's typical for people to go out in groups and less typical to see people go by themselves, even though the latter is often the norm in the U.S. Asking someone to dance is probably the only situation in Costa Rica where I've ever encountered a cold shoulder.
- Ticos have never heard of decaffeinated coffee. It's not supposed to exist.
Friday, November 14
Graduation day
Today was graduation day. Jesús and I watched the Argentine film La historia oficial ("The Official Story") about a professor who teaches "official" history while her students try to learn about the history the government tries to hide. She works to uncover the real story of her adopted child while her husband tries to keep the past in the past. It was a very moving film that capped off our week's theme of human rights.
I was the only student graduating today. I gave a farewell speech much loved by everybody, that spoke of the wonderful places I'd visited and the friendly people I'd met. Silvia and Jesús wished me many happy trails and both hoped I'd come back soon. I felt sad that this unforgettable chapter in my life was coming to an end, but I promised everyone (including myself) that I would return some day.
My graduation speech:
Mis cuatro semanas en Costa Rica han sido inolvidables. Mis viajes a través de este gran país han sido todo con que soñé. Me he divertido mucho haciendo tantas cosas – ir a montar a caballo, caminar por la selva, ir a toda velocidad en un cable 150 metros en el aire, mirar tortugas en la playa, enfermarme del estómago en un bus sacudido, y aun tratar de surfear mientras estaba lloviznando y caerme en el agua muchas veces. Pero además, he tenido la oportunidad de conocer a mucha gente simpática. A Intercultura, tuve cuatro profesores maravillosos. Silvia siempre mantuvo nuestras clases interesantes por ejercicios y juegos con preguntas inocentes y atrevidas. Jesús, y además Viki y María en Sámara, me desafiaron a que aprenda español y también comprenda la cultura latina más profundamente. También, a través de mis viajes he conocido a posaderos y guías muy amigables. Y he tenido dos mamás ticas que siempre mantuvieron sus casas cómodas y siempre me mantuvieron bien alimentado. Además, he conocido a muchos nuevos amigos de todo el mundo.
Ojalá que yo vuelva a Costa Rica algún día pronto. Ojalá que mis amigos y yo podamos seguir en contacto por muchos años que vienen. Nunca me olvidaré de las experiencias maravillosas, la gente simpatiquísima, los lugares bellos y la cultura encantadora que he descubierto aquí, pues una parte de mi corazón para siempre vivirá en la tierra de pura vida.
Gracias a todos por todo. ¡Que nos veamos pronto!
English translation:
My four weeks in Costa Rica have been unforgettable. My travels through this great country have been everything I dreamed of. I've had so much fun doing so many things – going horseback riding, walking through the rainforest, flying on a cable 150 meters in the air, watching turtles on the beach, getting sick to my stomach on a swaying bus and even trying to surf in drizzling rain while falling into the water many times. But beyond that, I've had the opportunity to meet many friendly people. At Intercultura, I had four wonderful professors. Silvia always kept our classes interesting with exercises and games featuring innocent and racy questions. Jesús, along with Viki and María in Sámara, challenged me to learn Spanish and also understand Latin culture more deeply. Throughout my travels I've also met friendly innkeepers and guides. And I've had two Tica moms who always kept their homes comfortable and always kept me well fed. Beyond that, I've met many new friends from all over the world.
I hope I will return to Costa Rica some day soon. I hope my new friends and I will be able to stay in touch for many years to come. I will never forget the wonderful experiences, amazingly friendly people, beautiful places and enchanting culture I've discovered here, for a piece of my heart will forever live in the land of pura vida.
Thank you to everyone for everything. May we see each other soon!
I was the only student graduating today. I gave a farewell speech much loved by everybody, that spoke of the wonderful places I'd visited and the friendly people I'd met. Silvia and Jesús wished me many happy trails and both hoped I'd come back soon. I felt sad that this unforgettable chapter in my life was coming to an end, but I promised everyone (including myself) that I would return some day.
My graduation speech:
Mis cuatro semanas en Costa Rica han sido inolvidables. Mis viajes a través de este gran país han sido todo con que soñé. Me he divertido mucho haciendo tantas cosas – ir a montar a caballo, caminar por la selva, ir a toda velocidad en un cable 150 metros en el aire, mirar tortugas en la playa, enfermarme del estómago en un bus sacudido, y aun tratar de surfear mientras estaba lloviznando y caerme en el agua muchas veces. Pero además, he tenido la oportunidad de conocer a mucha gente simpática. A Intercultura, tuve cuatro profesores maravillosos. Silvia siempre mantuvo nuestras clases interesantes por ejercicios y juegos con preguntas inocentes y atrevidas. Jesús, y además Viki y María en Sámara, me desafiaron a que aprenda español y también comprenda la cultura latina más profundamente. También, a través de mis viajes he conocido a posaderos y guías muy amigables. Y he tenido dos mamás ticas que siempre mantuvieron sus casas cómodas y siempre me mantuvieron bien alimentado. Además, he conocido a muchos nuevos amigos de todo el mundo.
Ojalá que yo vuelva a Costa Rica algún día pronto. Ojalá que mis amigos y yo podamos seguir en contacto por muchos años que vienen. Nunca me olvidaré de las experiencias maravillosas, la gente simpatiquísima, los lugares bellos y la cultura encantadora que he descubierto aquí, pues una parte de mi corazón para siempre vivirá en la tierra de pura vida.
Gracias a todos por todo. ¡Que nos veamos pronto!
English translation:
My four weeks in Costa Rica have been unforgettable. My travels through this great country have been everything I dreamed of. I've had so much fun doing so many things – going horseback riding, walking through the rainforest, flying on a cable 150 meters in the air, watching turtles on the beach, getting sick to my stomach on a swaying bus and even trying to surf in drizzling rain while falling into the water many times. But beyond that, I've had the opportunity to meet many friendly people. At Intercultura, I had four wonderful professors. Silvia always kept our classes interesting with exercises and games featuring innocent and racy questions. Jesús, along with Viki and María in Sámara, challenged me to learn Spanish and also understand Latin culture more deeply. Throughout my travels I've also met friendly innkeepers and guides. And I've had two Tica moms who always kept their homes comfortable and always kept me well fed. Beyond that, I've met many new friends from all over the world.
I hope I will return to Costa Rica some day soon. I hope my new friends and I will be able to stay in touch for many years to come. I will never forget the wonderful experiences, amazingly friendly people, beautiful places and enchanting culture I've discovered here, for a piece of my heart will forever live in the land of pura vida.
Thank you to everyone for everything. May we see each other soon!
Thursday, November 13
Cultural notes, part 3
I've had two very interesting intercambios this week. These conversational exchanges allow two students to get together, one to practice Spanish and one to practice English, and learn about each other's cultures and travels. On Tuesday, I met Jennifer, a student studying both tourism and special education. She volunteers at a school with a group of Down's syndrome students. As a tourism student, she has seen a lot of places throughout the country. One place she is particularly fond of is Zarcero, a small town about an hour and a half northwest of San José. Though well-known for its local cheese (queso palmito) it is by far most famous for its topiary gardens in front of the town church. Juan is another English student at Intercultura who's seen a lot of places in Costa Rica. When he was young, he would travel a lot with his father, who used to be a coffee trader and thus would visit coffee plantations througout the country. Juan recommended the stretch of the Caribbean coast from Cahuita down to the Panamanian border. It's a little difficult to get to, which makes it a place untouched by heavy tourism. Just looking at some of the pictures of the Caribbean coast I can tell the vibe is different from the Pacific side. It's definitely an area I'd like to see the next time I visit Costa Rica.
These days, Juan's father works as a real-estate agent catering to foreign investors. Even in this economy, the real estate figures prominently in the local economy. In the countryside, there are billboards everywhere advertising land and developments for sale. Many expats from around the world come here to retire; among these are Connie and Douglas from Vermont, whom I met while I was in Sámara. There's a fair amount of U.S. investment in Costa Rican real estate; still, the bulk of foreign money comes from Europe. With the local economy relying more and more on tourism and foreign trade, the ability to speak English is no longer a luxury here – it's virtually essential if you want to get a good job.
Although foreign relations are a big part of Costa Rican culture, it's difficult for Costa Ricans to obtain the right to travel abroad. Jennifer especially hopes to visit Spain someday soon to further her studies in special education, as well as visit family in the United States. However, as she explained to me, it takes a lot of time and a lot of money to get a full unrestricted Tico passport. The government's main worry seems to be that its citizens may leave the country for good, so they ask for a lot of documentation – especially financial records – to show that you have a well-established life in Costa Rica. This makes it hard for a lot of students like Jennifer, who don't have solid, full-time streams of income. It's a rather onerous set of restrictions in a country that otherwise prides itself on political freedom and democracy. We in the U.S. may complain about how our freedoms have slowly eroded away since 9/11 (which they have), but relatively speaking we still have it pretty good.
As welcoming and friendly as Costa Ricans are to most foreigners (especially North Americans and Europeans), amistad tica does have its dark side, which Jesús and I talked about this morning. Since Costa Rica prides itself on being the most economically and politically stable country in Central America, many Ticos harbor strong feelings of nationalism and entitlement toward other countries in the region, especially toward their most embattled neighbor, Nicaragua. The border between Nicaragua and Costa Rica has always been a hotbed of contention. Refugees and illegal immigrants from north of the border have been pouring into Costa Rica since civil war in the 1980's rocked Nicaragua's economic and political system to the core. Many Ticos can be quick to blame Nicaraguans for anything that ills Costa Rica. Even Norma, my mamá tica in Sámara, once told me outright that almost all crimes and killings we see on the news are committed by Nicaraguans and Colombians. I naturally took what she told me with a huge grain of salt. Like the prejudice many Americans have toward Mexicans, this is a sentiment that likely won't go away anytime soon.
These days, Juan's father works as a real-estate agent catering to foreign investors. Even in this economy, the real estate figures prominently in the local economy. In the countryside, there are billboards everywhere advertising land and developments for sale. Many expats from around the world come here to retire; among these are Connie and Douglas from Vermont, whom I met while I was in Sámara. There's a fair amount of U.S. investment in Costa Rican real estate; still, the bulk of foreign money comes from Europe. With the local economy relying more and more on tourism and foreign trade, the ability to speak English is no longer a luxury here – it's virtually essential if you want to get a good job.
Although foreign relations are a big part of Costa Rican culture, it's difficult for Costa Ricans to obtain the right to travel abroad. Jennifer especially hopes to visit Spain someday soon to further her studies in special education, as well as visit family in the United States. However, as she explained to me, it takes a lot of time and a lot of money to get a full unrestricted Tico passport. The government's main worry seems to be that its citizens may leave the country for good, so they ask for a lot of documentation – especially financial records – to show that you have a well-established life in Costa Rica. This makes it hard for a lot of students like Jennifer, who don't have solid, full-time streams of income. It's a rather onerous set of restrictions in a country that otherwise prides itself on political freedom and democracy. We in the U.S. may complain about how our freedoms have slowly eroded away since 9/11 (which they have), but relatively speaking we still have it pretty good.
As welcoming and friendly as Costa Ricans are to most foreigners (especially North Americans and Europeans), amistad tica does have its dark side, which Jesús and I talked about this morning. Since Costa Rica prides itself on being the most economically and politically stable country in Central America, many Ticos harbor strong feelings of nationalism and entitlement toward other countries in the region, especially toward their most embattled neighbor, Nicaragua. The border between Nicaragua and Costa Rica has always been a hotbed of contention. Refugees and illegal immigrants from north of the border have been pouring into Costa Rica since civil war in the 1980's rocked Nicaragua's economic and political system to the core. Many Ticos can be quick to blame Nicaraguans for anything that ills Costa Rica. Even Norma, my mamá tica in Sámara, once told me outright that almost all crimes and killings we see on the news are committed by Nicaraguans and Colombians. I naturally took what she told me with a huge grain of salt. Like the prejudice many Americans have toward Mexicans, this is a sentiment that likely won't go away anytime soon.
Wednesday, November 12
Back in town
It's back to city life for my last week in Costa Rica. Gone are the pleasant breezes, calming waves and empty streets of Sámara; and in their place are the noisy buses, bustling shops, jam-packed avenues and diesel fumes of Heredia. It's drier in Heredia than it was three weeks ago. The afternoon rains are either lighter or non-existent as Costa Rica transitions from its wet season to its dry season. The mornings are warmer but the evenings seem cooler, though I don't know if that's due to me getting accustomed to Sámara or to an actual lack of humidity. As much as I loved Sámara and its enchanting beauty, it was nice to return to the milder temperatures and find-anything-you-need convenience of Heredia – not to mention Zeneida's cooking and the freedom from bugs bigger than my thumb. I've been at the very least a high-density suburbanite (and at the most a wannabe city dweller) ever since my days in college, and I'll probably be that way until I at least start a family.
For my final week of class, I'm taking Advanced 4 with Jesús, the substitute who covered for Silvia the first Wednesday I was here. He's a lively character and, as you may remember, spoke a bit faster than Silvia. I don't know if he's speaking slower or if my listening comprehension has improved, because I can understand him a lot better than I did three weeks ago. We are studying the really hardcore Spanish tenses this week – the compound subjunctive and conditional, which are used to express things like, "The party would've been more fun if you'd invited more people." There were a couple of familiar faces – Tara from Ohio, Emily from San Francisco and Alison from Oregon – as well as a lot of new students as well. Melissa is here from Arizona and she's the model image of a globetrotting ecotraveler – travels light and casual with Mac Airbook in hand. She loves to talk about outdoor adventures and is itching to go straight into the rainforest and make her way to Sámara next week. Of course, Silvia was here and it was fun to catch up with her. She's a supremely busy Tica who spends her afternoons at the university, studying for her Master's in teaching Spanish as a second language.
This afternoon I went to La Paz Waterfall Gardens with Mireilla and Nanda, two new students from Holland. La Paz is a beautifully tended section of the rainforest with bird, monkey and butterfly exhibits – and of course some spectacular waterfalls. It was an interesting place to visit, although after getting down and dirty for two weeks in the more remote parts of Costa Rica, it was a bit of a letdown to see this "sanitized" version of Tico country with metal stairs, stone-tiled walking paths and wooden balconies overlooking the waterfalls. I would've enjoyed it more if I'd gone there my first week, but it still afforded me the opportunity to see some of the animals I didn't encounter during my more adventurous trips.
For my final week of class, I'm taking Advanced 4 with Jesús, the substitute who covered for Silvia the first Wednesday I was here. He's a lively character and, as you may remember, spoke a bit faster than Silvia. I don't know if he's speaking slower or if my listening comprehension has improved, because I can understand him a lot better than I did three weeks ago. We are studying the really hardcore Spanish tenses this week – the compound subjunctive and conditional, which are used to express things like, "The party would've been more fun if you'd invited more people." There were a couple of familiar faces – Tara from Ohio, Emily from San Francisco and Alison from Oregon – as well as a lot of new students as well. Melissa is here from Arizona and she's the model image of a globetrotting ecotraveler – travels light and casual with Mac Airbook in hand. She loves to talk about outdoor adventures and is itching to go straight into the rainforest and make her way to Sámara next week. Of course, Silvia was here and it was fun to catch up with her. She's a supremely busy Tica who spends her afternoons at the university, studying for her Master's in teaching Spanish as a second language.
This afternoon I went to La Paz Waterfall Gardens with Mireilla and Nanda, two new students from Holland. La Paz is a beautifully tended section of the rainforest with bird, monkey and butterfly exhibits – and of course some spectacular waterfalls. It was an interesting place to visit, although after getting down and dirty for two weeks in the more remote parts of Costa Rica, it was a bit of a letdown to see this "sanitized" version of Tico country with metal stairs, stone-tiled walking paths and wooden balconies overlooking the waterfalls. I would've enjoyed it more if I'd gone there my first week, but it still afforded me the opportunity to see some of the animals I didn't encounter during my more adventurous trips.
Sunday, November 9
Chasing waterfalls
Friday was my last morning in Sámara. I hugged Norma goodbye and hopped into a taxi to Intercultura with my luggage. She was a wonderful hostess and although her means were modest and her wit a bit caustic at times, she was always friendly and did what she could to make my stay as comfortable as an 80-degree night without air conditioning could be. She reminds me a bit of my Aunt Helen (except for the part about modest means).
In class, my profesora María and I went over my short homework exercise on the imperfect subjunctive. The day before, we'd watched El crimen del padre Amaro (The Crime of Father Amaro) about a young, newly ordained priest who falls in love with a beautiful young village girl. Thankfully, María turned on the Spanish subtitles so I could at least read what they were saying. On my last day of Advanced 2, I wrote my final composition, a commentary on the state of crime and violence in modern society. María said I was ready to skip another level and move directly to Advanced 4. I gave her and Virginia, my profesora from last week, goodbye hugs and thanked everyone I'd met for their wonderful hospitality. I was a little sad to leave such a beautiful place, but I somehow had the feeling I'd be back again someday.
Six of us hopped on a tour van at 2 o'clock that afternoon, bound for Rincón de la Vieja National Park: me, Cathy, Patrick with his mom and sister from Holland, and a Swiss student named Connie. It was Cathy's last day in Sámara, too. She didn't think she could make the trip since her flight out of Liberia back to New York left at 2 o'clock on Sunday, but when she saw how close the park was to the airport (an hour and change), she was definitely in. I was glad she was able to go, since we'd been like brother and sister – partners in crime for the past week and a half. Plus she hadn't been able to take a real honest-to-goodness ecotrip during her two weeks in Costa Rica, so it was great to see her finally get the chance.
We went up the hill to Rincón de la Vieja traveling over the requisite strip of rocky dirt (or was it dirty rocks?) serving as a road. Unlike Monteverde, Rincón is less visited and much less touristy. We arrived at Rinconcito Lodge around 6 that evening and we were the only guests there. The lodge made plenty of excellent food during our stay, including steak, chicken and fish with the requisite gallo pinto at breakfast and garlic mashed potatoes at dinner. Rinconcito has its own tour guides and horses so it can tailor a variety of tour packages for its visitors.
Saturday morning we got right on the horses and rode up to the modest ziplines. There are fewer ziplines than at Monteverde Extremo, and there are no rappeling lines or tarzan swings. Cathy, Patrick's mother and his sister were ziplining for the first time. These were slower ziplines than at Mondeverde, so we had opportunities to do tricks like free-spinning and Superman. The three of them were a little afraid at the start but got the hang of it quickly. Our tour guide Walter was a friendly, how's-it-hangin' sort of guy with Rastafarian hair. He taught us a few tiquismos such as "¡Tuanis, mae!" ("Cool, man!") and "Manuela" (a euphemism for self-gratification).
Afterward, Walter left us with our other tour guide, José, and it was back on the horses and off to the park. Rincón de la Vieja is an active volcano that last erupted in 1998, so the park encompasses hot springs that, unlike Baldi, are untouched with no spa resort built around them. We got off our horses and hiked through the forest about a kilometer and a half to one of the hot springs. Connie, Cathy and I sauntered into the water, while Patrick and his sister Chantal opted out. (Patrick's mom had decided to go back to the lodge after ziplining.) The water was warm and relaxing, effusing the distinct smell of volcanic sulfur. This place was really in the middle of nowhere, and it was a relief to get away from all the tourists and do a little trekking off the beaten path. We didn't encounter anybody else until we got back to the park entrance where our horses were waiting. It was a real down-and-dirty hike with puddles, fresh mud and rivers to trudge across. We all just grinned and bore it, getting our shoes wet as we waded calf-deep through the rivers – except for Connie. She was really averse to the current and rode on José's back every time we crossed a river. It was funny to watch. José spent a lot of time joking that he was in love with Connie, which we all got a kick out of.
We rode our horses out of the park and out to a trail leading to a waterfall. It was about a half kilometer hike down. The water was cold, and it was a refreshing way to cool off after a long hike. Again it was just Connie, Cathy and I in the water – which was ironic considering how afraid Connie was of crossing those several rivers. After that we headed on back to the lodge. By this time our horses, much active than the ones we rode in Sámara, were itching to do some serious running. José's horse at one point sprinted for what seemed like a mile despite everything he tried to get him to stop. And of course, when one horse sprints, the rest want to do the same. Connie and Patrick had two of the fastest so they were praying for their horses to slow down. I'd figured out pretty early on how to position my weight during their gallops, so I was enjoying the brisk pace.
On Sunday morning we all hugged Cathy goodbye as she jetted off to Liberia International Airport. Connie and I went hiking with Walter to a small 10-foot waterfall which was just as cold as the other one. We left the others behind, as they'd brought only one set of clothes and those were already pretty dirty. But one of the dogs that lived at the lodge came with us. This little guy was a trooper, hiking with us three kilometers out and back. But there was one river he couldn't cross on the way back (although I can't figure out how he got across on the way out). So I had to rescue him, which of course wasn't possible without stepping in the river and getting my shoes all wet again. Ah well, all in the name of pura vida.
After lunch, we all hopped on the van back. I got off in Liberia, said my goodbyes to my friends (who were returning to Sámara) and hopped on the bus to San José. Since this bus originated in Liberia, I got an assigned seat and didn't have to stand like I did going to Sámara. The bus route, operated by Pulmitan de Liberia, traverses about 200 kilometers over the Pan-American Highway, which until just about 20 kilometers outside of San José is an unmarked two-lane road traversing the countryside. The fare was unbelievably cheap – 2,900 colones ($5.80). The bus route goes over the mountains and into the clouds for the second half of the trip. The landscape is quite spectacular through the higher altitudes though it was impossible to take a picture amidst the dark clouds, rain and fog. With all the bus routes traversing the country, it's pretty easy to get to most places without a car. Just travel light!
I hopped off the bus at Juan Santamaría International Airport and took a taxi to Heredia. I got there around 6:30 in the evening, and Zeneida was waiting with open arms ready to cook dinner for me. She gave me the downstairs bedroom this time since Ellie and Ken had already moved out. It's much quieter than the upstairs room next to all the college students, although it doesn't have the nice view. It's smack in the middle of the house, but it isn't hot like I'd feared. Strangely, it feels like I'm coming home after a long vacation. It's hard to believe that next weekend, I really will be going home.
In class, my profesora María and I went over my short homework exercise on the imperfect subjunctive. The day before, we'd watched El crimen del padre Amaro (The Crime of Father Amaro) about a young, newly ordained priest who falls in love with a beautiful young village girl. Thankfully, María turned on the Spanish subtitles so I could at least read what they were saying. On my last day of Advanced 2, I wrote my final composition, a commentary on the state of crime and violence in modern society. María said I was ready to skip another level and move directly to Advanced 4. I gave her and Virginia, my profesora from last week, goodbye hugs and thanked everyone I'd met for their wonderful hospitality. I was a little sad to leave such a beautiful place, but I somehow had the feeling I'd be back again someday.
Six of us hopped on a tour van at 2 o'clock that afternoon, bound for Rincón de la Vieja National Park: me, Cathy, Patrick with his mom and sister from Holland, and a Swiss student named Connie. It was Cathy's last day in Sámara, too. She didn't think she could make the trip since her flight out of Liberia back to New York left at 2 o'clock on Sunday, but when she saw how close the park was to the airport (an hour and change), she was definitely in. I was glad she was able to go, since we'd been like brother and sister – partners in crime for the past week and a half. Plus she hadn't been able to take a real honest-to-goodness ecotrip during her two weeks in Costa Rica, so it was great to see her finally get the chance.
We went up the hill to Rincón de la Vieja traveling over the requisite strip of rocky dirt (or was it dirty rocks?) serving as a road. Unlike Monteverde, Rincón is less visited and much less touristy. We arrived at Rinconcito Lodge around 6 that evening and we were the only guests there. The lodge made plenty of excellent food during our stay, including steak, chicken and fish with the requisite gallo pinto at breakfast and garlic mashed potatoes at dinner. Rinconcito has its own tour guides and horses so it can tailor a variety of tour packages for its visitors.
Saturday morning we got right on the horses and rode up to the modest ziplines. There are fewer ziplines than at Monteverde Extremo, and there are no rappeling lines or tarzan swings. Cathy, Patrick's mother and his sister were ziplining for the first time. These were slower ziplines than at Mondeverde, so we had opportunities to do tricks like free-spinning and Superman. The three of them were a little afraid at the start but got the hang of it quickly. Our tour guide Walter was a friendly, how's-it-hangin' sort of guy with Rastafarian hair. He taught us a few tiquismos such as "¡Tuanis, mae!" ("Cool, man!") and "Manuela" (a euphemism for self-gratification).
Afterward, Walter left us with our other tour guide, José, and it was back on the horses and off to the park. Rincón de la Vieja is an active volcano that last erupted in 1998, so the park encompasses hot springs that, unlike Baldi, are untouched with no spa resort built around them. We got off our horses and hiked through the forest about a kilometer and a half to one of the hot springs. Connie, Cathy and I sauntered into the water, while Patrick and his sister Chantal opted out. (Patrick's mom had decided to go back to the lodge after ziplining.) The water was warm and relaxing, effusing the distinct smell of volcanic sulfur. This place was really in the middle of nowhere, and it was a relief to get away from all the tourists and do a little trekking off the beaten path. We didn't encounter anybody else until we got back to the park entrance where our horses were waiting. It was a real down-and-dirty hike with puddles, fresh mud and rivers to trudge across. We all just grinned and bore it, getting our shoes wet as we waded calf-deep through the rivers – except for Connie. She was really averse to the current and rode on José's back every time we crossed a river. It was funny to watch. José spent a lot of time joking that he was in love with Connie, which we all got a kick out of.
We rode our horses out of the park and out to a trail leading to a waterfall. It was about a half kilometer hike down. The water was cold, and it was a refreshing way to cool off after a long hike. Again it was just Connie, Cathy and I in the water – which was ironic considering how afraid Connie was of crossing those several rivers. After that we headed on back to the lodge. By this time our horses, much active than the ones we rode in Sámara, were itching to do some serious running. José's horse at one point sprinted for what seemed like a mile despite everything he tried to get him to stop. And of course, when one horse sprints, the rest want to do the same. Connie and Patrick had two of the fastest so they were praying for their horses to slow down. I'd figured out pretty early on how to position my weight during their gallops, so I was enjoying the brisk pace.
On Sunday morning we all hugged Cathy goodbye as she jetted off to Liberia International Airport. Connie and I went hiking with Walter to a small 10-foot waterfall which was just as cold as the other one. We left the others behind, as they'd brought only one set of clothes and those were already pretty dirty. But one of the dogs that lived at the lodge came with us. This little guy was a trooper, hiking with us three kilometers out and back. But there was one river he couldn't cross on the way back (although I can't figure out how he got across on the way out). So I had to rescue him, which of course wasn't possible without stepping in the river and getting my shoes all wet again. Ah well, all in the name of pura vida.
After lunch, we all hopped on the van back. I got off in Liberia, said my goodbyes to my friends (who were returning to Sámara) and hopped on the bus to San José. Since this bus originated in Liberia, I got an assigned seat and didn't have to stand like I did going to Sámara. The bus route, operated by Pulmitan de Liberia, traverses about 200 kilometers over the Pan-American Highway, which until just about 20 kilometers outside of San José is an unmarked two-lane road traversing the countryside. The fare was unbelievably cheap – 2,900 colones ($5.80). The bus route goes over the mountains and into the clouds for the second half of the trip. The landscape is quite spectacular through the higher altitudes though it was impossible to take a picture amidst the dark clouds, rain and fog. With all the bus routes traversing the country, it's pretty easy to get to most places without a car. Just travel light!
I hopped off the bus at Juan Santamaría International Airport and took a taxi to Heredia. I got there around 6:30 in the evening, and Zeneida was waiting with open arms ready to cook dinner for me. She gave me the downstairs bedroom this time since Ellie and Ken had already moved out. It's much quieter than the upstairs room next to all the college students, although it doesn't have the nice view. It's smack in the middle of the house, but it isn't hot like I'd feared. Strangely, it feels like I'm coming home after a long vacation. It's hard to believe that next weekend, I really will be going home.
Thursday, November 6
Costa Tortuga
Tonight was a special treat. We went out to Playa Camaronal about 45 minutes south of Sámara. This is a wildlife refuge where sea turtles come to lay their eggs. You have to go out at night because that's when the females come ashore to avoid predators. In addition, the sand dries more slowly and stays firmer longer, so that the turtles can dig holes without them caving in. The females come ashore just after high tide, when the water has just receded, leaving the sand in its wet, workable state. The males stay at sea to continue breeding.
We got to Camaronal around 8 o'clock and after watching a short presentation on the life cycle of turtles, we walked down to the beach to see if we could spot any turtles. Searching for them is an exercise in patience, because you have to look for them in the dark. You can't use a lot of white light or flash since turtles depend on the light of the moon reflecting off the sea to guide them off shore. Our guide, Alicio, had a small pocket light that could shine with both white and red light. He had to use the white light sparingly, just to comb the beach in search of turtle tracks. We ended up finding two Olive Ridley turtles (tortugas lora). We came across the first one pretty early on, but after she started digging Alicio told us she was having problems digging the hole. Apparently she'd hit upon a spot where the sand was too soft and the hole kept caving in on her. So, as Alicio told us, the turtle would actually go back out to sea without laying any eggs and come back another night.
We left the first turtle to its own devices and walked down the beach again. Soon enough, we encountered another set of turtle tracks and followed them up to another turtle. This time, she was able to dig a stable hole and lay her eggs. Alicio showed us some of them up close and we watched as the turtle laid more and more eggs, upwards of forty. Once she was done, the turtle covered her clutch with sand and started turning toward the ocean. But she had put her nest in an enclave of scattered wood, so she was tired and it was hard for her to find her way back. Alicio helped her out by picking her up and pointing her toward the ocean with uninterrupted sand in front of her. We watched as she slowly disappeared into the ocean, under the dim light of a quarter moon. The entire process took about an hour and we left the beach a little after 10 o'clock. It was one fascinating trip.
Although protected as an endangered species, it is actually legal to collect Olive Ridley eggs in small amounts for human consumption. These eggs are a delicacy in certain circles; my mamá tica Norma even told me she likes them with salt and lemon. On another note, there are plans for real estate development on the cliffs overlooking Playa Camaronal. If these projects are built as planned, the artificial light will make the beach unviable as a turtle nesting ground. It's yet another example of the struggle Costa Rica continues to face between humanity and nature.
We got to Camaronal around 8 o'clock and after watching a short presentation on the life cycle of turtles, we walked down to the beach to see if we could spot any turtles. Searching for them is an exercise in patience, because you have to look for them in the dark. You can't use a lot of white light or flash since turtles depend on the light of the moon reflecting off the sea to guide them off shore. Our guide, Alicio, had a small pocket light that could shine with both white and red light. He had to use the white light sparingly, just to comb the beach in search of turtle tracks. We ended up finding two Olive Ridley turtles (tortugas lora). We came across the first one pretty early on, but after she started digging Alicio told us she was having problems digging the hole. Apparently she'd hit upon a spot where the sand was too soft and the hole kept caving in on her. So, as Alicio told us, the turtle would actually go back out to sea without laying any eggs and come back another night.
We left the first turtle to its own devices and walked down the beach again. Soon enough, we encountered another set of turtle tracks and followed them up to another turtle. This time, she was able to dig a stable hole and lay her eggs. Alicio showed us some of them up close and we watched as the turtle laid more and more eggs, upwards of forty. Once she was done, the turtle covered her clutch with sand and started turning toward the ocean. But she had put her nest in an enclave of scattered wood, so she was tired and it was hard for her to find her way back. Alicio helped her out by picking her up and pointing her toward the ocean with uninterrupted sand in front of her. We watched as she slowly disappeared into the ocean, under the dim light of a quarter moon. The entire process took about an hour and we left the beach a little after 10 o'clock. It was one fascinating trip.
Although protected as an endangered species, it is actually legal to collect Olive Ridley eggs in small amounts for human consumption. These eggs are a delicacy in certain circles; my mamá tica Norma even told me she likes them with salt and lemon. On another note, there are plans for real estate development on the cliffs overlooking Playa Camaronal. If these projects are built as planned, the artificial light will make the beach unviable as a turtle nesting ground. It's yet another example of the struggle Costa Rica continues to face between humanity and nature.
Wednesday, November 5
Sand and surf
This afternoon, Cathy and I tried our hand at surfing. Neither of us had ever tried it. She was a little hesitant but I got her to go along anyway. Both of us figured we ought to try it at least once while we're here. Cathy is a funny sort, enjoying the quirkiness and campiness of Sámara and being as casual as she can be in her first ever pair of flip-flops, all the while donning a Bulgari necklace and Movado watch. She works crazy hours and is going through a divorce right now, so everyone in her family (and even her soon-to-be ex-husband) told her a trip to Sámara was exactly what she needed. We sauntered over to Jesse's Gym and Surf School about a kilometer east of Intercultura. It was about 3:30 in the afternoon when the tide was high enough to get some good waves.
The instructors started us out on the beach practicing how to lie on the surfboard, then hop into the surfing stance once you find a wave. The foot position is very specific – front foot in the middle of the board with your feet shoulder width apart – and you've only got one chance to hop onto the board. Of course, jumping into the stance is a very different exercise on water than on land. It took me a few times before I got it right. The first few times, we started with our instructors pushing us forward as a good wave was passing by. I started to get into a little groove after three or four attempts. Then we had to try paddling ourselves forward as the wave was coming before hopping on the board. This was hard, as it never felt like I was paddling strong enough to match the speed of the wave. Timing your stance with the front of the wave is hard, too. Then we had to learn how to swim ourselves out into the water and turn back toward shore as the wave was coming. It's a very complex sport that requires a lot of coordination, although Cathy and I both had a few successes. But both of us knew we still had a lot to learn, and today was not the day. By the end of our lesson, it was drizzling pretty hard and even though we still had the surfboards for another hour we decided it was time to go back to shore.
The instructors started us out on the beach practicing how to lie on the surfboard, then hop into the surfing stance once you find a wave. The foot position is very specific – front foot in the middle of the board with your feet shoulder width apart – and you've only got one chance to hop onto the board. Of course, jumping into the stance is a very different exercise on water than on land. It took me a few times before I got it right. The first few times, we started with our instructors pushing us forward as a good wave was passing by. I started to get into a little groove after three or four attempts. Then we had to try paddling ourselves forward as the wave was coming before hopping on the board. This was hard, as it never felt like I was paddling strong enough to match the speed of the wave. Timing your stance with the front of the wave is hard, too. Then we had to learn how to swim ourselves out into the water and turn back toward shore as the wave was coming. It's a very complex sport that requires a lot of coordination, although Cathy and I both had a few successes. But both of us knew we still had a lot to learn, and today was not the day. By the end of our lesson, it was drizzling pretty hard and even though we still had the surfboards for another hour we decided it was time to go back to shore.
Tuesday, November 4
Election Day
This is it, the day we've all been waiting for. Ticos follow our elections almost as closely as we do, since U.S. foreign policy has such an important effect on Latin America. This morning, local news stations were covering our elections intently, even stationing reporters in various cities around the U.S.
The Costa Rican economy seems very intertwined with ours. American tourism is such an important part of the local economy that many if not most tourist goods and souvenirs are priced in U.S. dollars, and almost all places around here accept greenbacks. The cars for sale in the newspaper, the tour packages that Intercultura offers, the tickets to tour the National Theatre and Gold Museum, the bags of coffee at Café Diriá, the horseback ride we took on Sunday, the lessons at Sámara's three surf schools, even the leather sandals I bought last week – all quoted in dollars. I'm sure Costa Rica's inflation rate of 16.3% also figures into why so many places prefer quoting in dollars. I'd read about this before, but had no idea how widespread the custom actually was. If I'd known, I would've kept more of my spending money in dollars instead of converting it into colones. Even places that price goods in colones will often times accept American currency near the mid-market rate of around 550 colones to the dollar; in contrast, a bank or forex such as Travelex will typically offer you a rate of only 500 to 1. A good tip for any compatriots planning to visit Costa Rica.
I submitted my final essay for Advanced 1 to Viki yesterday and she gave it back to me today. As mentioned before, we were to write about the effect of mass media on our lives and the relationship between mass media and the rest of the world. She noted only a few minor mistakes, such as some of the more obscure por/para distinctions, a few misconjugated verbs and an error in word order. ("Cosas ciertas" means "things that are true or certain" while "ciertas cosas" means "certain things in particular.") Viki enjoyed reading my essay and thought it was clear, coherent and insightful.
I've started Week 3 with my new professor, María. Yesterday, we began our first class talking about what I did over the weekend and the places I'd lived in. So far the subject matter seems less intense than last week, although María told me we'd be watching a film on Thursday so that could be a big test for me. This week we're studying the subjunctive, which is a source of dread for many English speakers. I have a little bit of a grasp on the subjunctive, but lack a lot of everyday practice with it. I'm the only one in the class, so I've got a private lesson every day this week. On top of that, we churn through each day's material in three hours instead of four, and we've got a big panoramic window that overlooks the ocean. It's been a great start to the week.
The Costa Rican economy seems very intertwined with ours. American tourism is such an important part of the local economy that many if not most tourist goods and souvenirs are priced in U.S. dollars, and almost all places around here accept greenbacks. The cars for sale in the newspaper, the tour packages that Intercultura offers, the tickets to tour the National Theatre and Gold Museum, the bags of coffee at Café Diriá, the horseback ride we took on Sunday, the lessons at Sámara's three surf schools, even the leather sandals I bought last week – all quoted in dollars. I'm sure Costa Rica's inflation rate of 16.3% also figures into why so many places prefer quoting in dollars. I'd read about this before, but had no idea how widespread the custom actually was. If I'd known, I would've kept more of my spending money in dollars instead of converting it into colones. Even places that price goods in colones will often times accept American currency near the mid-market rate of around 550 colones to the dollar; in contrast, a bank or forex such as Travelex will typically offer you a rate of only 500 to 1. A good tip for any compatriots planning to visit Costa Rica.
I submitted my final essay for Advanced 1 to Viki yesterday and she gave it back to me today. As mentioned before, we were to write about the effect of mass media on our lives and the relationship between mass media and the rest of the world. She noted only a few minor mistakes, such as some of the more obscure por/para distinctions, a few misconjugated verbs and an error in word order. ("Cosas ciertas" means "things that are true or certain" while "ciertas cosas" means "certain things in particular.") Viki enjoyed reading my essay and thought it was clear, coherent and insightful.
I've started Week 3 with my new professor, María. Yesterday, we began our first class talking about what I did over the weekend and the places I'd lived in. So far the subject matter seems less intense than last week, although María told me we'd be watching a film on Thursday so that could be a big test for me. This week we're studying the subjunctive, which is a source of dread for many English speakers. I have a little bit of a grasp on the subjunctive, but lack a lot of everyday practice with it. I'm the only one in the class, so I've got a private lesson every day this week. On top of that, we churn through each day's material in three hours instead of four, and we've got a big panoramic window that overlooks the ocean. It's been a great start to the week.
Sunday, November 2
Vista del mar
Seven of us went horseback riding this afternoon. It was a new experience for most of us. The horses were very easygoing and I found it was a quick study learning to steer. A few of the others had some issues and on a couple of occasions we ran into each other like equine icebergs. Patrick, one of the Dutch students at Intercultura, got stuck on the bridge that traverses the creek on the west side of the school. He was lagging behind and it was funny to see him helplessly stuck with his horse facing up the creek, as two cars from opposite directions were waiting (im)patiently for him to get his horse turned around.
We traveled the road going up to my casa tica then went past the neighborhood and into the countryside. We made our way to Buena Vista beach about a mile and a half west of the school. It's a tiny alcove with no services to speak of, and the waves are much rougher than in Sámara. After taking a few pictures we took a gallop up the hill to a cliff overlooking the ocean. The view was spectacular as we waited for the sun to set. It was a wonderful sight to see, as the sunset is not visible from Sámara due to a big rock of a land mass sitting in the way.
Saturday, November 1
Cultural notes, part 2
Cathy (the V.P. of H.R. from upstate New York) and I had a casado today with coconut-flavored rice and something akin to adobo/lemon-grass chicken at the out-of-the-way soda behind the school. Cathy's homestay hostess, Mayala, recommended the place to us because apparently this plate is a specialty of the Limón region on the Atlantic coast, and the guy who cooks it only comes by on Saturdays. This soda is really out of the way, on the side of a dirt alleyway that serves a few houses, and is completely hidden from the beach and the main road. Like many businesses in Costa Rica, this one looks like it's built off the proprietor's house. Cathy and I were the only ones there, and I've never seen anyone eating there even when I've passed by at noon. My guess is the owner just makes a little play money whenver someone decides to drop in. There isn't even a printed menu, so they probably just serve one thing each day. The cook didn't even ask what kind of meat we wanted. The plate was 3,000 colones ($6.00), which is already a great price considering it includes tax and tip. Even so, the same plate would be about 2,000-2,500 colones ($4-5) in Heredia, which Cathy could hardly believe was actually possible.
If you're from the U.S. or Canada – especially anywhere west of New York City – it takes cajones to drive in Costa Rica. The Tico driver's-license test is written . . . only. And much like the wilder parts of Europe, people drive fast through the busiest city streets. As you travel away from the city centers, pavement starts to become more and more rare. Even if the road is paved, drivers usually have to drive in the middle or left side in long stretches to avoid potholes. The dirt roads are pocked with holes, erosion channels and the occasional boulder. Even though this should be SUV territory, even little compacts that were never meant to drive on hilly, rocky roads travel them anyway. Our taxi to Café Diriá on Friday was the local equivalent of a Toyota Corolla, and the driver told us he'd already taken his one-year old transport to the repair shop twice. I can't imagine how a truck driver with a full load of coffee beans gets his precious cargo to Diriá going uphill on a road with erosion channels big enough to hold small children. With trucks and buses traveling on all grades of pavement (and lack thereof), many drivers and cyclists pass with reckless abandon; I've seen two or three near misses with oncoming traffic during my travels (happily, not involving the car I was in). The constant TV news reports of auto accidents are another unending reminder that Costa Rica has one of the highest accident rates in the world.
Tonight Dailis had a few friends over to watch more horror movies; they had gotten through the first 45 minutes of Urban Legends when I left. Just like my mamá tica Norma, the neighborhood kids are irreverant but friendly, talking it up and making jokes just like her. Norma is quite a character; she can be a big, brash wisecracking firecracker of a grandmother; but underneath it all she has a warm heart. She always looks out for me and makes sure I'm comfortable, all the while joking that I spend a lot of time out of the house prowling for women. She joked of another student at another house a while back who once said: "I like my mamá tica but she has a boyfriend." She and most of the neighbors have a good set of lungs on them; it probably comes from spending a lot of time talking to each other across the strip of dirt that serves as a street.
I stopped by Cathy's just after dinner. As mentioned, she's staying in a small apartment complex with the owner, Mayala. The two of them are always hanging out on the front porch at night with the neighbors passing by left and right. I was so tired that I took a nap on the porch until about 10 o'clock, at which point we hit the road and did a little bar-hopping. Everywhere we went, the dress code was ultra-casual: T-shirts and shorts were the norm. We started at the Tutti Frutti discotech next to Intercultura which was playing house music. It was noisy and dark, and obviously there wasn't an age limit since we saw 15-year-olds hanging around. They had a popular local drink, cacique ("cah-SEE-kay"), that Mayala told us about. It's only purpose in life is to get you drunk for cheap at 1,000 colones ($2) a shot. Cathy bought a shot of the stuff and even between the two of us we couldn't finish it. It was rawest, most vile and unrefined liquid we'd ever tasted, something close to Everclear.
We left pretty quickly and sauntered over to Bar Olas playing reggaeton on the other side of the school. It had a nice, open-air layout, although just one chica was dancing. The last bar we went to, Sol y Mar, had traditional live music – cumbia, salsa, merengue. There were a lot of people of all ages dancing and having a good time. I tried to dance once but the style of salsa here is so different that I couldn't do much of anything with my Tica dance partner. We ran into two other students, Connie and Emily; and two of Cathy's neighbors, Jason and Victoria, who are an English ex-pat couple. Poor Emily couldn't sleep because her hotel room was right next to Sol y Mar's dance floor – and when I say "right next to," I mean there's barely enough space to put a welcome mat in between. About halfway through the night, I met Luis from Nicaragua who manages a residential construction job in Cangrejal, just to the northwest of Sámara. He was kind enough to buy me a beer and talk with me as I practiced my Spanish with him. He has two sons, 4 and 1, back in Nicaragua. The financial opportunities here are so great compared to Nicaragua that he is willing to be away from home four weeks at a time earning his keep in Tico country. For me, it turned out to be an interesting conversation that gave me further insights into the relationship between Costa Rica and its neighbors. I thanked him as Cathy and I left for the night.
If you're from the U.S. or Canada – especially anywhere west of New York City – it takes cajones to drive in Costa Rica. The Tico driver's-license test is written . . . only. And much like the wilder parts of Europe, people drive fast through the busiest city streets. As you travel away from the city centers, pavement starts to become more and more rare. Even if the road is paved, drivers usually have to drive in the middle or left side in long stretches to avoid potholes. The dirt roads are pocked with holes, erosion channels and the occasional boulder. Even though this should be SUV territory, even little compacts that were never meant to drive on hilly, rocky roads travel them anyway. Our taxi to Café Diriá on Friday was the local equivalent of a Toyota Corolla, and the driver told us he'd already taken his one-year old transport to the repair shop twice. I can't imagine how a truck driver with a full load of coffee beans gets his precious cargo to Diriá going uphill on a road with erosion channels big enough to hold small children. With trucks and buses traveling on all grades of pavement (and lack thereof), many drivers and cyclists pass with reckless abandon; I've seen two or three near misses with oncoming traffic during my travels (happily, not involving the car I was in). The constant TV news reports of auto accidents are another unending reminder that Costa Rica has one of the highest accident rates in the world.
Tonight Dailis had a few friends over to watch more horror movies; they had gotten through the first 45 minutes of Urban Legends when I left. Just like my mamá tica Norma, the neighborhood kids are irreverant but friendly, talking it up and making jokes just like her. Norma is quite a character; she can be a big, brash wisecracking firecracker of a grandmother; but underneath it all she has a warm heart. She always looks out for me and makes sure I'm comfortable, all the while joking that I spend a lot of time out of the house prowling for women. She joked of another student at another house a while back who once said: "I like my mamá tica but she has a boyfriend." She and most of the neighbors have a good set of lungs on them; it probably comes from spending a lot of time talking to each other across the strip of dirt that serves as a street.
I stopped by Cathy's just after dinner. As mentioned, she's staying in a small apartment complex with the owner, Mayala. The two of them are always hanging out on the front porch at night with the neighbors passing by left and right. I was so tired that I took a nap on the porch until about 10 o'clock, at which point we hit the road and did a little bar-hopping. Everywhere we went, the dress code was ultra-casual: T-shirts and shorts were the norm. We started at the Tutti Frutti discotech next to Intercultura which was playing house music. It was noisy and dark, and obviously there wasn't an age limit since we saw 15-year-olds hanging around. They had a popular local drink, cacique ("cah-SEE-kay"), that Mayala told us about. It's only purpose in life is to get you drunk for cheap at 1,000 colones ($2) a shot. Cathy bought a shot of the stuff and even between the two of us we couldn't finish it. It was rawest, most vile and unrefined liquid we'd ever tasted, something close to Everclear.
We left pretty quickly and sauntered over to Bar Olas playing reggaeton on the other side of the school. It had a nice, open-air layout, although just one chica was dancing. The last bar we went to, Sol y Mar, had traditional live music – cumbia, salsa, merengue. There were a lot of people of all ages dancing and having a good time. I tried to dance once but the style of salsa here is so different that I couldn't do much of anything with my Tica dance partner. We ran into two other students, Connie and Emily; and two of Cathy's neighbors, Jason and Victoria, who are an English ex-pat couple. Poor Emily couldn't sleep because her hotel room was right next to Sol y Mar's dance floor – and when I say "right next to," I mean there's barely enough space to put a welcome mat in between. About halfway through the night, I met Luis from Nicaragua who manages a residential construction job in Cangrejal, just to the northwest of Sámara. He was kind enough to buy me a beer and talk with me as I practiced my Spanish with him. He has two sons, 4 and 1, back in Nicaragua. The financial opportunities here are so great compared to Nicaragua that he is willing to be away from home four weeks at a time earning his keep in Tico country. For me, it turned out to be an interesting conversation that gave me further insights into the relationship between Costa Rica and its neighbors. I thanked him as Cathy and I left for the night.
Friday, October 31
Café rico
This afternoon we visited Café Diriá, a coffee plantation nestled up in the hills about an hour away from Sámara. It is the processing center for Coope Pilangosta, a coop of 208 growers who harvest roughly 400 hectares (1,000 acres) of coffee. Our tour guide, whom I can only remember as Mari, was very friendly and spoke to us in both Spanish and English, offering us some delicious samples at the start of the tour. She's very proud of the plantation and the quality of the coffee grown there.
The process of growing coffee is very complex. Coffee seeds are planted in small starter boxes with potting soil and compost in October. They are watered every day through March, during the dry season. As the rainy season begins, the treelings are transplanted into the fields two by two, at a density of about 5,000 plants per hectare (2,000 per acre). Once they're in the field, nature provides them with all the water they need. It takes three to four years before the treelings bear fruit. After five years of fruit-bearing, the trees are cut short so they won't grow too high to reach, and the process continues. Typically, a tree lives about 20 years before it's replaced by a new one.
The coffee fruits are picked by hand when they're ripe, either red or just turning red. Inside each fruit are two beans, the coffee beans we're all familiar with but which are still in their raw state with a roughly pistachio color. They're washed and processed overnight to remove the outer skin. The beans are dried either out in the sun or in a special dryer for around 40 hours. Even with the outer skin removed, the beans still have a thin husk on them which is removed and used as fuel for the heat dryers. The processors separate the beans into three grades: highest grade for most drinkers, economy grade for poorer drinkers, and industrial grade for end products like coffee-flavored liqueur and ice cream, as well as specialty lotions. Once the beans are dried they can either be roasted at the plant or shipped raw. Coffee beans are typically shipped raw so they can be roasted at the coffee house for freshest flavor.
Café Diriá uses 100% organic farming methods, although currently it can only sell 10% of its coffee as organic. This is due to the residual chemicals that still exist in some fields, as well as the tendency of some farmers in the coop to still use artificial fertilizers during tough growing seasons. In any case, Café Diriá recycles everything. The bean husks are used as fuel for the dryers as previously mentioned. The waste water from the skinning process is dried out, leaving the coffee skins for use as compost. This compost is distributed to all the farmers in the coop. In lieu of pesticides, they plant chile-pepper trees amongst the coffee trees as a first line of defense. In addition, they take a mixture of lemon juice, chile peppers and garlic and spray it on the trees as a natural insect repellent. It makes a great sauce, too!
After the tour we were served more tasty cups of hot coffee as well as creamy iced coffee and cookies. I bought a couple bags of whole beans to take home to my coffee-crazy dad. It was another afternoon well spent.
The process of growing coffee is very complex. Coffee seeds are planted in small starter boxes with potting soil and compost in October. They are watered every day through March, during the dry season. As the rainy season begins, the treelings are transplanted into the fields two by two, at a density of about 5,000 plants per hectare (2,000 per acre). Once they're in the field, nature provides them with all the water they need. It takes three to four years before the treelings bear fruit. After five years of fruit-bearing, the trees are cut short so they won't grow too high to reach, and the process continues. Typically, a tree lives about 20 years before it's replaced by a new one.
The coffee fruits are picked by hand when they're ripe, either red or just turning red. Inside each fruit are two beans, the coffee beans we're all familiar with but which are still in their raw state with a roughly pistachio color. They're washed and processed overnight to remove the outer skin. The beans are dried either out in the sun or in a special dryer for around 40 hours. Even with the outer skin removed, the beans still have a thin husk on them which is removed and used as fuel for the heat dryers. The processors separate the beans into three grades: highest grade for most drinkers, economy grade for poorer drinkers, and industrial grade for end products like coffee-flavored liqueur and ice cream, as well as specialty lotions. Once the beans are dried they can either be roasted at the plant or shipped raw. Coffee beans are typically shipped raw so they can be roasted at the coffee house for freshest flavor.
Café Diriá uses 100% organic farming methods, although currently it can only sell 10% of its coffee as organic. This is due to the residual chemicals that still exist in some fields, as well as the tendency of some farmers in the coop to still use artificial fertilizers during tough growing seasons. In any case, Café Diriá recycles everything. The bean husks are used as fuel for the dryers as previously mentioned. The waste water from the skinning process is dried out, leaving the coffee skins for use as compost. This compost is distributed to all the farmers in the coop. In lieu of pesticides, they plant chile-pepper trees amongst the coffee trees as a first line of defense. In addition, they take a mixture of lemon juice, chile peppers and garlic and spray it on the trees as a natural insect repellent. It makes a great sauce, too!
After the tour we were served more tasty cups of hot coffee as well as creamy iced coffee and cookies. I bought a couple bags of whole beans to take home to my coffee-crazy dad. It was another afternoon well spent.
Second nature
Today we went over the newspaper articles we'd read over the week. My overriding theme was the state of naturalism in Costa Rica. Two articles of interest that I read were about the regrowth of the monkey population in Santa Rosa National Park (the nation's first), and about environmentalist protests over a mining operation in San Carlos. The rainforest and other natural resources of this country are a major part of Costa Ricans' national identity. The country continues to wage a tug of war between developers who seek to move Costa Rica's economy and tourism industry forward, and environmentalists seeking to protect the natural resources and charm that attract that tourism in the first place.
After we talked about that, Viki gave us our final exam for Advanced 1. Our assignment was to write an essay on the relevance of mass media to us and to the world, and also design an eye-catching newspaper ad, using common attention-grabbing elements we'd reviewed – for example, phrases like "en oferta" (on sale), "50% descuentos" (50% off) and so on. Alex said he was going to retake Advanced 1 because he was having trouble with the vocabulary needed to write such an essay. I wrote my essay on my laptop but unfortunately the power went out for the second time this week (which is common) and I couldn't print out my composition and turn it in. But I checked the board for next week's classes and found that Viki graduated me to Advanced 2 anyway. In any case, I'll still try to print out my essay and turn it in to her on Monday.
After we talked about that, Viki gave us our final exam for Advanced 1. Our assignment was to write an essay on the relevance of mass media to us and to the world, and also design an eye-catching newspaper ad, using common attention-grabbing elements we'd reviewed – for example, phrases like "en oferta" (on sale), "50% descuentos" (50% off) and so on. Alex said he was going to retake Advanced 1 because he was having trouble with the vocabulary needed to write such an essay. I wrote my essay on my laptop but unfortunately the power went out for the second time this week (which is common) and I couldn't print out my composition and turn it in. But I checked the board for next week's classes and found that Viki graduated me to Advanced 2 anyway. In any case, I'll still try to print out my essay and turn it in to her on Monday.
Thursday, October 30
Beach-blanket Sámaran
Wednesday afternoon I took a short walk up and down the beach. The shore is beautiful and although a slight scent of tourism permeates the air, Sámara is still very laid back and relatively low-key. It was a perfect, sunny afternoon and after I got back to the school I swam in the ocean for about a half an hour. Eva and Jana, the German student in my Heredia class, took a surfing lesson at Surf School Sámara, which is a stone's throw away from Intercultura. They had a lot of fun although they said it was tough on their abs. I'm thinking of trying it at least once before I return to Heredia.
Tonight the homestay brother of one of the students here had a barbeque on the beach. About fifteen of us students hung out in front of one of the local surf schools. It was a blast hanging out with some of the locals, including our dance instructor Karol – having fun in that feisty and spirited yet simple and uncomplicated rural style. The spread was spartan – napkins, tortillas and grilled meat. No utensils required, and the funniest part: They used freshly-plucked leaves as paper plates. They were amazingly clean considering they were fresh off the tree.
Tonight the homestay brother of one of the students here had a barbeque on the beach. About fifteen of us students hung out in front of one of the local surf schools. It was a blast hanging out with some of the locals, including our dance instructor Karol – having fun in that feisty and spirited yet simple and uncomplicated rural style. The spread was spartan – napkins, tortillas and grilled meat. No utensils required, and the funniest part: They used freshly-plucked leaves as paper plates. They were amazingly clean considering they were fresh off the tree.
Cultural notes
Mama Africa is a little shop here in Sámara that sells sandals and African art. It's run by Ivan and Mario, who I think are brothers, though I haven't gotten to that part of their back story in my conversations with them. My guess is they're from Italy given Mario's name and the speech rhythm that gives their Spanish a slightly staccato feel. It turns out there's a sizable Italian population in Sámara so there are two or three Italian restaurants doing business here. Anyway, back to Ivan and Mario: They're incredibly friendly and laid back, helpful without being pushy. I had bought a pair of sandals from them on Tuesday night, but yesterday discovered that one of them was the wrong size. They were so accommodating that they looked high and low for the correct size but couldn't find it for the life of them. My guess is they gave someone else two mismatched sandals before I got there. But they told me to check back next Wednesday after they get a new delivery and they could replace my off-size sandal anyway, even though I'd used it already. This is just one of many examples that show how warm and cordial Costa Ricans can be, especially in Sámara.
I found out last week in Heredia dance class that the salsa Ticos dance is a lot different from the international style. The salsa they dance here is a modified cumbia while the cumbia is a modified east-coast swing. The merengue, since it's such a simple dance, is pretty much the same all over the world. But the preps Ticos use to turn their partners in salsa and cumbia are so different that it was a real struggle last week trying to learn Tico salsa and Tico cumbia to music that was so familiar. On Monday, I took one of the dance classes at Intercultura Sámara. They're taught by Karol who's a fiery, compact, energetic firecracker, sort of a Sonia Braga type. She teaches a style of salsa that blends the international style and the Tico style, so it was a big relief to finally see something familiar. Karol said that Ticas can indeed dance the international style if they have a good lead.
Norma's cooking is a lot different from Zeneida's. It's simple, no-nonsense country-style comfort food like fried fish, chicken with potatoes, and grilled steak accompanied by that Costa Rican staple, gallo pinto. Like its Cajun counterpart, this Central American version of beans and rice is cooked in large batches once or twice a week and served in different variations over several days. I can tell this is true because for my first dinner, the beans were a little underdone, but as the days progressed the beans became more and more cooked inside and the sauce they were in became more and more thick.
One other quirk of Costa Rican life: The plumbing system doesn't take toilet paper. You have to throw away your toilet paper with the rest of the trash. I have to admit a couple of times I've forgotten the local custom so if the streets in Heredia flood with sewage you know who to blame. My friend Cathy whom I just met on Tuesday says she's had the opposite problem with Latin Americans who visit the United States: They're so paranoid about clogging the plumbing system that they'll toss their toilet paper in the trash instead of flushing it down the toilet.
In any case, my classmate Alex had stomach pains this morning so I ended up having a private lesson with Viki today. We went over a bunch of new verbs, many of which I'd never seen before. In addition, Viki and I visited a number of web sites that offer Costa Rican radio feeds so I can practice my listening comprehension, something I still have a problem with especially when Spanish speakers talk really fast. Of course, Spanish in general has more syllables than English, it seems like the extra syllables Spanish speakers have to pump out compel them talk at light speed.
I found out last week in Heredia dance class that the salsa Ticos dance is a lot different from the international style. The salsa they dance here is a modified cumbia while the cumbia is a modified east-coast swing. The merengue, since it's such a simple dance, is pretty much the same all over the world. But the preps Ticos use to turn their partners in salsa and cumbia are so different that it was a real struggle last week trying to learn Tico salsa and Tico cumbia to music that was so familiar. On Monday, I took one of the dance classes at Intercultura Sámara. They're taught by Karol who's a fiery, compact, energetic firecracker, sort of a Sonia Braga type. She teaches a style of salsa that blends the international style and the Tico style, so it was a big relief to finally see something familiar. Karol said that Ticas can indeed dance the international style if they have a good lead.
Norma's cooking is a lot different from Zeneida's. It's simple, no-nonsense country-style comfort food like fried fish, chicken with potatoes, and grilled steak accompanied by that Costa Rican staple, gallo pinto. Like its Cajun counterpart, this Central American version of beans and rice is cooked in large batches once or twice a week and served in different variations over several days. I can tell this is true because for my first dinner, the beans were a little underdone, but as the days progressed the beans became more and more cooked inside and the sauce they were in became more and more thick.
One other quirk of Costa Rican life: The plumbing system doesn't take toilet paper. You have to throw away your toilet paper with the rest of the trash. I have to admit a couple of times I've forgotten the local custom so if the streets in Heredia flood with sewage you know who to blame. My friend Cathy whom I just met on Tuesday says she's had the opposite problem with Latin Americans who visit the United States: They're so paranoid about clogging the plumbing system that they'll toss their toilet paper in the trash instead of flushing it down the toilet.
In any case, my classmate Alex had stomach pains this morning so I ended up having a private lesson with Viki today. We went over a bunch of new verbs, many of which I'd never seen before. In addition, Viki and I visited a number of web sites that offer Costa Rican radio feeds so I can practice my listening comprehension, something I still have a problem with especially when Spanish speakers talk really fast. Of course, Spanish in general has more syllables than English, it seems like the extra syllables Spanish speakers have to pump out compel them talk at light speed.
Tuesday, October 28
My first days in Sámara
My mamá tica in Sámara sent a taxi to pick me up from Intercultura Sunday night. Norma (Dionisia) is a pretty friendly and accommodating host although she can be a bit terse when you first meet her – she doesn't have a permanent smile like Zeneida. I'd describe her as a cross between Rosie O'Donnell and Roseanne Barr, Tica style. She's a housewife and her husband Ramón works as a contract delivery driver. They have a 14-year-old granddaughter, Dailis ("dye-lease"), who is the same age as my sister. She's the typical teenager who's into things like horror movies, rock and heavy metal. At this point you probably have a goth-metalhead image of her in your mind, but she dresses more like a Papaya girl. She enjoys listening to music in both Spanish and English although she understands hardly any English. She was funny as we watched the Spanish-dubbed version of Titanic, one of her favorite movies. She cringed a lot even as I kept telling her, "But you already know what's going to happen!" Her mom lives in San José and works hard to help support the family, which includes two brothers. Sadly, her father died of cancer four years ago.
Ramón and Norma's house is nearly a mile away from the school. There are two separate living areas: the family area and the student area. Both areas have separate TV's and dinner tables. There's room for two or three students although I'm the only one living there right now. They've had a bunch of students pass through over the past few years, but I'm the first one who has spoken fluently enough to have a lengthy conversation with them. The student area looks likes a converted garage. It's open to the street although there are security bars and a metal gate. I have a private locked bedroom and bathroom in the back, but unlike Zeneida's place my shower doesn't have hot water. There's another shower available with hot water, but I actually appreciated the cool water Monday morning as it was really humid the previous night. The family dogs barked a lot, too, so I didn't get much sleep. Monday morning I woke up later than I'd planned and hurried to get out the door. Norma lent me a bicycle for two weeks so I got to the school in no time.
The Intercultura Sámara campus is beautifully laid out with a courtyard right next to the beach. The courtyard is the perfect place to relax, do homework, type e-mails and just hangout, while the ocean provides a picturesque backdrop graced with the relaxing sounds of the Pacific surf. Intercultura put me in the Advanced 1 class with one other student, a 22-year-old named Alex. We're doing a lot more work in this class compared to last week. Besides the usual grammar exercises, our profesora Viki (Virginia) has us spend a lot of time reading the local newspapers, all the while practicing both reading comprehension and critical thinking in Spanish. It's much harder than last week's class, but it's definitely a great way to learn about Tico culture; plus it's with the small class size it's almost as good as having a private class four hours a day.
Alex is one of a bunch of 20-somethings at the Sámara campus gallavanting around Central America for various amounts of time. It's amazing to think that four weeks to these kids is really short. Alex himself just came back from Nicaragua last weekend, and unfortunately got stuck for six hours at the border. There are a few of us 30+ students, including a couple who just retired here from Vermont and a 40-something V.P. of H.R. from upstate New York who's finally given herself the chance to get away for two weeks after working 12-hour days for who-knows-how-long. There are students from all over the world – Canada, Germany, Switzerland and Holland among other places. Unlike the dress-casual jeans-and-collar-shirt norm in Heredia, we spend our dress-up days in T-shirts and shorts, and our dress-down days in T-shirts over swimsuits. Sámara's rural setting makes the environment extremely relaxed, laid back and mellow. The heat has backed off a little, too, and the dogs have stopped barking since Norma puts them inside during the night now. So far it's a wonderful change from the fast pace of life in the city.
Ramón and Norma's house is nearly a mile away from the school. There are two separate living areas: the family area and the student area. Both areas have separate TV's and dinner tables. There's room for two or three students although I'm the only one living there right now. They've had a bunch of students pass through over the past few years, but I'm the first one who has spoken fluently enough to have a lengthy conversation with them. The student area looks likes a converted garage. It's open to the street although there are security bars and a metal gate. I have a private locked bedroom and bathroom in the back, but unlike Zeneida's place my shower doesn't have hot water. There's another shower available with hot water, but I actually appreciated the cool water Monday morning as it was really humid the previous night. The family dogs barked a lot, too, so I didn't get much sleep. Monday morning I woke up later than I'd planned and hurried to get out the door. Norma lent me a bicycle for two weeks so I got to the school in no time.
The Intercultura Sámara campus is beautifully laid out with a courtyard right next to the beach. The courtyard is the perfect place to relax, do homework, type e-mails and just hangout, while the ocean provides a picturesque backdrop graced with the relaxing sounds of the Pacific surf. Intercultura put me in the Advanced 1 class with one other student, a 22-year-old named Alex. We're doing a lot more work in this class compared to last week. Besides the usual grammar exercises, our profesora Viki (Virginia) has us spend a lot of time reading the local newspapers, all the while practicing both reading comprehension and critical thinking in Spanish. It's much harder than last week's class, but it's definitely a great way to learn about Tico culture; plus it's with the small class size it's almost as good as having a private class four hours a day.
Alex is one of a bunch of 20-somethings at the Sámara campus gallavanting around Central America for various amounts of time. It's amazing to think that four weeks to these kids is really short. Alex himself just came back from Nicaragua last weekend, and unfortunately got stuck for six hours at the border. There are a few of us 30+ students, including a couple who just retired here from Vermont and a 40-something V.P. of H.R. from upstate New York who's finally given herself the chance to get away for two weeks after working 12-hour days for who-knows-how-long. There are students from all over the world – Canada, Germany, Switzerland and Holland among other places. Unlike the dress-casual jeans-and-collar-shirt norm in Heredia, we spend our dress-up days in T-shirts and shorts, and our dress-down days in T-shirts over swimsuits. Sámara's rural setting makes the environment extremely relaxed, laid back and mellow. The heat has backed off a little, too, and the dogs have stopped barking since Norma puts them inside during the night now. So far it's a wonderful change from the fast pace of life in the city.
Sunday, October 26
Zipping around
This was one exciting weekend! Friday afternoon we took the road to Monteverde and on the way got stopped for a half hour. Costa Rica has been having its worst rain in 100 years the past few weeks and a lot of people in the rural areas have lost their homes. Many roads have been overrun by mudslides, and the road to Monteverde was no exception. The last hour or so was all dirt roads (really down and dirty dirt roads: not just gravel, but stones, rocks and the occasional boulder). Naturally, in places they were muddy and cut up pretty badly. I'm glad we have expert drivers like Jerry, our Intercultura tour guide, to shuttle us around. Jerry is a funny guy and you can tell he really enjoys taking students out on these excursions. There were five others: Lillian is from North Carolina, Luc and his wife Celine from Montréal, and Nathan and his sister Alison from Oregon. Lillian is the spitting image of southern hospitality with several grown-up kids, though none of them have yet sired grandchildren for her. Luc and Celine are pleasant though a bit more reserved. Nathan and Alison are as different as brother and sister can be: Nathan lives life big; he looks a bit imposing but is a really cool and personable guy. Alison is a bit shy and hasn't even had her first day of Spanish class yet, so we had to speak mostly English with her. Nathan flew in with her to help her get settled in; he flies back on Monday to take his mid-terms on Tuesday.
After doing a little bar-hopping on Friday night, we got up yesterday morning and went straight to business at Monteverde Extremo canopy. Unfortunately, Celine had to sit this one and the rest of the tour out as she was suffering from a fractured wrist and a fit of what we believed to be altitude sickness. It was my first time ever ziplining, speeding down a metal cable hundreds of feet above the forest floor. Of the five of us, Lillian and Alison were the most scared but after the first zipline were flying high; unfortunately, Lillian had to drop out not because of the ziplining but because of all the hiking we had to do between ziplines. We ran into a big group of the same college students we met at the bar the previous night. It was a huge gringo tourist party the entire morning. The Extremo guides were extremely helpful and friendly, taking the time to know our names and talking us through each step of the tour. We flew across probably 15 ziplines, went down a rappeling line and dangled on a Tarzan swing. The Tarzan swing is a bit scary for the first half-second as you jump off the platform into free-fall, but once the rope catches you, the feeling of swinging back and forth through the trees is exhilarating. It was a great way to spend the morning.
In the afternoon, we took a short boat ride to Arenal. Although it's considered an active volcano, we didn't see any lava while we were there, since it was cloudy and we couldn't see the top. We trekked through the rainforest around Arenal late in the afternoon. Except for Lillian who had to take the bunny route, it was a quick 30-minute hike to the vista point. The scenery was lush and beautiful, though it was so cloudy that those beautiful images one dreams about of sun peeking through the treetops were nowhere to be found. Rain, on the other hand, was in abundance! We hiked up the hill as fast as we could; I was glad I brought my raincoat. We met Jerry and Lillian at the end of the trail and the six of us hopped on the van to Baldi hot springs. The hot water, bar drinks and surprise water slide were nice after a long day of ziplining and hiking.
We spent the night at the Jardines Arenal Hotel. It's a small, mom-and-pop lodge surrounded by beautifully tended gardens. The proprietors Walter and Blanca were extremely friendly. All of us had dinner together in the covered patio in back of the hotel. The food they cooked for us was incredible (I had tenderloin gargonzola) and they really took the time to make sure we felt comfortable. It looks so unassuming from the road but it's definitely a place I'd consider if I ever make my way through Arenal again.
This afternoon Jerry dropped Lillian and I off at San Ramón to catch the Empresa Alfaro bus to Sámara. For an intercity bus stop it was little more than a small covered bench on the side of the road. We got on and it was standing room only. We saw Eva, one of the students who was also transferring from Heredia, and Manuela, a Swiss miss who was just starting her Spanish immersion experience. The extra company was good, but since we hadn't had time to get lunch I was dreading the prospect of standing for four hours on a bus twisting over the winding roads of the Continental Divide. Fortunately, we had a lunch stop and we were able to get off and stretch our legs. I munched down some flat-bread tortillas and sausage, then we hopped back on the bus for the second half of the journey. I spent most of the time doing standing catnaps with my head against the overhead bin. Thankfully, after an hour, enough people had gotten off the bus for Lillian and I to sit down.
About an hour after that, we finally arrived in Sámara. Finding the school was a bit of an adventure as it's right on the beach in front of a bunch of other buildings. The campus is beautiful with a courtyard facing the ocean. We met Sofia, a country-hopping volunteer from Belgium who eventually came to Sámara last December, started working at Intercultura as a French and German teacher and never left. (Having a Tico boyfriend kind of keeps her firmly rooted here, too.) She took us on a short tour of Sámara. It's a small, rural, mellow town that reminds me a lot of Maasin, a fishing village in the Philippines I visited about ten years ago. It's definitely a world away from Heredia.
After doing a little bar-hopping on Friday night, we got up yesterday morning and went straight to business at Monteverde Extremo canopy. Unfortunately, Celine had to sit this one and the rest of the tour out as she was suffering from a fractured wrist and a fit of what we believed to be altitude sickness. It was my first time ever ziplining, speeding down a metal cable hundreds of feet above the forest floor. Of the five of us, Lillian and Alison were the most scared but after the first zipline were flying high; unfortunately, Lillian had to drop out not because of the ziplining but because of all the hiking we had to do between ziplines. We ran into a big group of the same college students we met at the bar the previous night. It was a huge gringo tourist party the entire morning. The Extremo guides were extremely helpful and friendly, taking the time to know our names and talking us through each step of the tour. We flew across probably 15 ziplines, went down a rappeling line and dangled on a Tarzan swing. The Tarzan swing is a bit scary for the first half-second as you jump off the platform into free-fall, but once the rope catches you, the feeling of swinging back and forth through the trees is exhilarating. It was a great way to spend the morning.
In the afternoon, we took a short boat ride to Arenal. Although it's considered an active volcano, we didn't see any lava while we were there, since it was cloudy and we couldn't see the top. We trekked through the rainforest around Arenal late in the afternoon. Except for Lillian who had to take the bunny route, it was a quick 30-minute hike to the vista point. The scenery was lush and beautiful, though it was so cloudy that those beautiful images one dreams about of sun peeking through the treetops were nowhere to be found. Rain, on the other hand, was in abundance! We hiked up the hill as fast as we could; I was glad I brought my raincoat. We met Jerry and Lillian at the end of the trail and the six of us hopped on the van to Baldi hot springs. The hot water, bar drinks and surprise water slide were nice after a long day of ziplining and hiking.
We spent the night at the Jardines Arenal Hotel. It's a small, mom-and-pop lodge surrounded by beautifully tended gardens. The proprietors Walter and Blanca were extremely friendly. All of us had dinner together in the covered patio in back of the hotel. The food they cooked for us was incredible (I had tenderloin gargonzola) and they really took the time to make sure we felt comfortable. It looks so unassuming from the road but it's definitely a place I'd consider if I ever make my way through Arenal again.
This afternoon Jerry dropped Lillian and I off at San Ramón to catch the Empresa Alfaro bus to Sámara. For an intercity bus stop it was little more than a small covered bench on the side of the road. We got on and it was standing room only. We saw Eva, one of the students who was also transferring from Heredia, and Manuela, a Swiss miss who was just starting her Spanish immersion experience. The extra company was good, but since we hadn't had time to get lunch I was dreading the prospect of standing for four hours on a bus twisting over the winding roads of the Continental Divide. Fortunately, we had a lunch stop and we were able to get off and stretch our legs. I munched down some flat-bread tortillas and sausage, then we hopped back on the bus for the second half of the journey. I spent most of the time doing standing catnaps with my head against the overhead bin. Thankfully, after an hour, enough people had gotten off the bus for Lillian and I to sit down.
About an hour after that, we finally arrived in Sámara. Finding the school was a bit of an adventure as it's right on the beach in front of a bunch of other buildings. The campus is beautiful with a courtyard facing the ocean. We met Sofia, a country-hopping volunteer from Belgium who eventually came to Sámara last December, started working at Intercultura as a French and German teacher and never left. (Having a Tico boyfriend kind of keeps her firmly rooted here, too.) She took us on a short tour of Sámara. It's a small, rural, mellow town that reminds me a lot of Maasin, a fishing village in the Philippines I visited about ten years ago. It's definitely a world away from Heredia.
Friday, October 24
Into the woods
Today was the end of Week 1. We had to write hypothetical questions to ask our fellow students. The subject matter ranged from tame ("What would you do if you had all the money in the world?") to philosophical ("Would you rather be blind all your life or lose your sight in an accident?") to a little bit saucy ("What would you do if you discovered your destination was a nude beach?" or "If your boyfriend had a one-night stand while you were together, would you want to know?"). It's been a really enjoyable week, and even though I already had a firm grasp on the grammar we covered, the speaking practice was very helpful. I've become much more comfortable with the language than I was even a week ago, even on occasion making jokes in Spanish (some of which aren't repeatable here). I'm going to miss the class – we always fun talking about interesting topics, and got to know a lot about each other. Silvia has been a great professor – very friendly, personable, patient and warm-hearted.
A group of us from Intercultura are trekking into the back roads of Costa Rica this weekend. Afterwards, two of us go direct to the Sámara campus to continue our studies. Since we're leaving straight after class, I packed all my things last night, then this morning hugged Zeneida goodbye, put all my luggage in a taxi and rode over to the school. The half-mile trip was 530 colones ($1.06) which is less than what it would cost just to sit in a taxi in the U.S. without moving an inch. Zeneida wished me well and asked me to call her once I got to Sámara. Ken and Ellie are looking for an apartment right now and will have moved out of Zeneida's by the time I get back to Heredia, so I'll miss sitting down and having dinner with them every night. They'll still be around, though, so we'll get a chance to get together at least once before I leave Costa Rica.
In any case, it's time to hop in that tour van and experience the rural beauty I came to see!
A group of us from Intercultura are trekking into the back roads of Costa Rica this weekend. Afterwards, two of us go direct to the Sámara campus to continue our studies. Since we're leaving straight after class, I packed all my things last night, then this morning hugged Zeneida goodbye, put all my luggage in a taxi and rode over to the school. The half-mile trip was 530 colones ($1.06) which is less than what it would cost just to sit in a taxi in the U.S. without moving an inch. Zeneida wished me well and asked me to call her once I got to Sámara. Ken and Ellie are looking for an apartment right now and will have moved out of Zeneida's by the time I get back to Heredia, so I'll miss sitting down and having dinner with them every night. They'll still be around, though, so we'll get a chance to get together at least once before I leave Costa Rica.
In any case, it's time to hop in that tour van and experience the rural beauty I came to see!
Wednesday, October 22
Life is what you make of it
Silvia had to deal with family matters today. We had Jesús teaching the class and he was a pretty good substitute. He talked a little faster than Silvia but was still mostly understandable. We had an interesting homework assignment, but more on that later. At today's cooking class, we baked a batch of pan de yuca (yuca bread), made with grated yuca root, cheese, eggs and flour. It was delicious, like cornmeal bread but lighter in taste, with the texture of biscuits.
Five of us met for lunch at Mambo Café, a soda one block west from the school. I ordered a casado with grilled chicken plus a glass of guayaba juice – all told, only 2,000 colones ($4.00). It was Ken, Ellie and I, plus Patricia and Carolyn from Intercultura. All of us are Anglophones, and it was strange to talk for an entire hour in English. Even Ellie, my housemate, commented on how funny it was after listening to me talk Spanish 90% of the time.
One of my homework assignments was to interview Zeneida about different aspects of her life. She's lived her entire life in Heredia and grew up only about two blocks from the school. She's lived in the same house for 20 years and can't remember how many additions she's made. Four grandchildren, the first of whom was born in 1983. She got married young, at the age of 16, to a filanderer – I at first was afraid to ask this question but she was very forthcoming about what was a bit of a heartbreaking story. She also says that life in Heredia used to be much simpler and has changed so much (too much, she says) during her life.
Zeneida is a very resilient woman. You can tell how much she loves her family by the way she talks about her grandson, Jonathan – how she describes his studiousness and his warm heart. Jonathan came by last week to help his grandmother with errands and daily chores. It seems like almost every day, someone comes by to visit and socialize. Zeneida even calls the three of us her hijos. With such a tight-knit circle of family, friends and neighbors, it's no wonder how she's able to hold her own after 68 years.
Five of us met for lunch at Mambo Café, a soda one block west from the school. I ordered a casado with grilled chicken plus a glass of guayaba juice – all told, only 2,000 colones ($4.00). It was Ken, Ellie and I, plus Patricia and Carolyn from Intercultura. All of us are Anglophones, and it was strange to talk for an entire hour in English. Even Ellie, my housemate, commented on how funny it was after listening to me talk Spanish 90% of the time.One of my homework assignments was to interview Zeneida about different aspects of her life. She's lived her entire life in Heredia and grew up only about two blocks from the school. She's lived in the same house for 20 years and can't remember how many additions she's made. Four grandchildren, the first of whom was born in 1983. She got married young, at the age of 16, to a filanderer – I at first was afraid to ask this question but she was very forthcoming about what was a bit of a heartbreaking story. She also says that life in Heredia used to be much simpler and has changed so much (too much, she says) during her life.Zeneida is a very resilient woman. You can tell how much she loves her family by the way she talks about her grandson, Jonathan – how she describes his studiousness and his warm heart. Jonathan came by last week to help his grandmother with errands and daily chores. It seems like almost every day, someone comes by to visit and socialize. Zeneida even calls the three of us her hijos. With such a tight-knit circle of family, friends and neighbors, it's no wonder how she's able to hold her own after 68 years.
Tuesday, October 21
An afternoon in San José
Today a small group of us from the school took an afternoon trip to downtown San José to see the Teatro Nacional de Costa Rica and the Museo de Oro. The round trip was only 750 colones ($1.50). We rode one bus line into the city and another one back. It seems private enterprise thrives here when it comes to public transit, thank you very much.
The Teatro Nacional de Costa Rica (National Theatre of Costa Rica) is an exquisite building constructed in the neo-classical style, displaying many fine examples of late-19th century Italian and French sculpture. The TNCR features frequent dance and classical music performances (ten this month) that top out at a mere 10,000 colones ($20). The main atrium is adorned overhead with Costa Rica's most famous mural, Allegory of Coffee and Bananas, which is also featured on the old five-colón banknote (no longer in circulation since its face value is now equivalent to one U.S. penny). The painting, as our tour guide José explained, takes artistic license in the fact that coffee doesn't grow at sea level, and that the banana bunch as pictured would make one banana nearly the length of a man's forearm.
The Teatro Nacional de Costa Rica (National Theatre of Costa Rica) is an exquisite building constructed in the neo-classical style, displaying many fine examples of late-19th century Italian and French sculpture. The TNCR features frequent dance and classical music performances (ten this month) that top out at a mere 10,000 colones ($20). The main atrium is adorned overhead with Costa Rica's most famous mural, Allegory of Coffee and Bananas, which is also featured on the old five-colón banknote (no longer in circulation since its face value is now equivalent to one U.S. penny). The painting, as our tour guide José explained, takes artistic license in the fact that coffee doesn't grow at sea level, and that the banana bunch as pictured would make one banana nearly the length of a man's forearm.
The Museo de Oro (Gold Museum) features a plethora of indigenous artifacts. The goldsmiths in pre-Colombian Central America were highly skilled and made jewelry and religious articles of great intricacy. The museum also features an exhibit on the history of Costa Rican currency, which hasn't always been easy. Costa Rica has at times recognized foreign coins and even coffee beans as legal currency. Of course, these days many places take American dollars, especially in the tourist areas. One thing I didn't know: Costa Rican coins have Braille on them.
All it all, it was an enjoyable trip. The only disappointing thing was the lack of local food downtown. Subway, Wendy's, McDonald's, Pizza Hut – they were all there. A sure sign the tourist industry is alive and well.
Monday, October 20
The first day of school
Today was the first day of school. The attendance is light this time of year so instead of the 7:30 they mentioned in my original itinerary, I was able to hold off until 8. Zeneida walked with me to the school and introduced me to the receptionist before she returned home. It's amazing that she's pushing 70 and can still walk a mile non-stop!
The placement exam consisted of a short conversation with one of the professors. We talked about where I was from, where I'd lived, where I grew up and what I did last Christmas among other things. I was first put in the Intermediate 1 class, but the professor, Vanessa, decided I was a better fit in Intermediate 2. There were four students in I-2 – me, Tara, Jana and Patricia, plus our professor Silvia. Silvia was funny; when she introduced me to the rest of the class, she said, "¡Tenemos un chico en nuestra clase!" We talked about reflexive and reciprocal verbs, which included verbs about relationships. As expected, our practice conversations got a little saucy at times, but it was all in good humor and kept the morning lively.
After class, a few of us took a short tour around Heredia. The central market here is a treasure trove of fresh fruits, food vendors and the like. Our tour guide Evelyn recommended a few restaurants near the school. Typical in Costa Rica are bistro/café-style restaurants called sodas that serve a traditional Tico lunch, casado – a plate of rice, beans and salad accompanying a choice of meat dish. "Casado" literally means "married" – I suppose the name refers to the "marriage" of side dishes served together on one plate.
We ended up having lunch at Café Scarlett on the east side of town. Like a lot of the casual sit-down restaurants here, it had no menu; the waitress just told us the specials of the day. I had a savory plate with chicken, rice and salad, plus a glass of juice. I don't remember what the name of the juice was – cubúa, cuvúa, cujúa? In any case, it tasted great, like a light mango juice. The best thing was the price: lunch and juice all together for 1,875 colones, or $3.75!
It feels weird to sit down and write this blog in English after spending the whole day talking in Spanish. I find myself sometimes thinking of what I want to say in Spanish before I type it in English, and I'm very much starting to get used to living Spanish 24 hours a day. I hope it's a good indication of what my conversional skills will be like in four weeks.
The placement exam consisted of a short conversation with one of the professors. We talked about where I was from, where I'd lived, where I grew up and what I did last Christmas among other things. I was first put in the Intermediate 1 class, but the professor, Vanessa, decided I was a better fit in Intermediate 2. There were four students in I-2 – me, Tara, Jana and Patricia, plus our professor Silvia. Silvia was funny; when she introduced me to the rest of the class, she said, "¡Tenemos un chico en nuestra clase!" We talked about reflexive and reciprocal verbs, which included verbs about relationships. As expected, our practice conversations got a little saucy at times, but it was all in good humor and kept the morning lively.
After class, a few of us took a short tour around Heredia. The central market here is a treasure trove of fresh fruits, food vendors and the like. Our tour guide Evelyn recommended a few restaurants near the school. Typical in Costa Rica are bistro/café-style restaurants called sodas that serve a traditional Tico lunch, casado – a plate of rice, beans and salad accompanying a choice of meat dish. "Casado" literally means "married" – I suppose the name refers to the "marriage" of side dishes served together on one plate.
We ended up having lunch at Café Scarlett on the east side of town. Like a lot of the casual sit-down restaurants here, it had no menu; the waitress just told us the specials of the day. I had a savory plate with chicken, rice and salad, plus a glass of juice. I don't remember what the name of the juice was – cubúa, cuvúa, cujúa? In any case, it tasted great, like a light mango juice. The best thing was the price: lunch and juice all together for 1,875 colones, or $3.75!
It feels weird to sit down and write this blog in English after spending the whole day talking in Spanish. I find myself sometimes thinking of what I want to say in Spanish before I type it in English, and I'm very much starting to get used to living Spanish 24 hours a day. I hope it's a good indication of what my conversional skills will be like in four weeks.
Sunday, October 19
The sun oh so rises
I woke up bright and early with the sunrise this morning. When I got out of bed I thought it was already close to 8 o'clock – rather, it was barely past 6. The sun rises much earlier here with the passing of the equinox and no DST, plus it shines more brightly and more directly.I sauntered downstairs and took my first shower in Costa Rica. Yes, we do have hot water here, but it's not centralized. Instead, the water heater is built right into the showerhead. That's right – inside the showerhead is a small electric heating element that powers up as soon as you start the water. To make sure the heater is working, you have to turn up the water until the unit buzzes. To us Yanks, a buzzing electrical appliance is usually cause for alarm, but here it's just another everyday thing that makes Latin American life so interesting.
We're nearing the end of the rainy season here. The pattern each day has been true to what I've read. It's bright and sunny in the morning, then the clouds roll in and it rains for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Typically it's only heavy for about half and hour, and light the rest of the time. Ken, Ellie and I walked around downtown for a little bit to grab a late lunch and pick up some last-minute school supplies. We didn't eat too much since it was about 3 in the afternoon and we'd be having some of Zeneida's home cooking in a few hours. Her food has been delicious! She always slices up plates of fresh guava and pineapples for breakfast. Tonight we had a tasty soup called crema de ayote. The ayote is a gourd similar to a pumpkin, so the soup was something like a pumpkin bisque.
Tomorrow I wake up bright and early to take my oral placement exam at 7:30. The school is about a ten-minute walk from here, and I'm looking forward to getting some nominal exercise since there's not a lot of open space around here to run. I can't wait to see what the class is like and what activities the school has in store.
Saturday, October 18
Settling in
I landed in San José at around 10 AM this morning. I spent the last few minutes of the flight looking out the window at the green, hilly landscape. There was even a building that had "PURA VIDA" emblazoned on its roof. ("Pura vida," meaning "pure life," is the closest thing that Costa Rica has to a national motto.) The trip through customs was really quick. I spoke to the customs inspector in Spanish and had a nice conversation about where I was from and where I was born. I had to wait a short while before my ride came, but not too long. The cab manager, Henry, was very helpful and offered to call one of my contacts at Intercultura to check the status of my ride. He said my contact would call back in a few minutes, but my pick-up arrived soon enough with my hostess Zeneida and our driver Hector. Zeneida from the very beginning was friendly and full of pura vida – and even though my itinerary says she's pushing 70, you'd never guess it.
Zeneida lives on the outskirts of downtown Heredia in a home that dons an eclectic mix of extensions. Her bedroom used to be the patio before she had it converted. My room is on the second floor connected to another flat with separate rooms she rents out to university students. It has a private bathroom and shower and a great balcony that overlooks the central valley. Since the extensions grew organically without a master plan, getting to my room involves either going through Zeneida's room and up the back stairs, or going up the front stairs through the separate flat. I have five separate keys to get through all these doors and gates! In addition (yes, there's more!) she owns a small beauty salon attached to the front of the house.
Zeneida lives on the outskirts of downtown Heredia in a home that dons an eclectic mix of extensions. Her bedroom used to be the patio before she had it converted. My room is on the second floor connected to another flat with separate rooms she rents out to university students. It has a private bathroom and shower and a great balcony that overlooks the central valley. Since the extensions grew organically without a master plan, getting to my room involves either going through Zeneida's room and up the back stairs, or going up the front stairs through the separate flat. I have five separate keys to get through all these doors and gates! In addition (yes, there's more!) she owns a small beauty salon attached to the front of the house.
Two other homestay students, Ken and Ellie, are visiting here from Portland. I thought my stay was long, but theirs is open-ended! Ellie is originally from the UK but lived in Spain for three years, so she's quite fluent and of course speaks with the Castilian distinción – having different s's compared to z's and soft c's. (It's funny to hear her code-switch into her English accent!) Her boyfriend Ken originally studied Italian and so is working to catch up with Ellie. They are muy chévere to talk to.
Downtown Heredia is a bustling shopping district that features all kinds of stores, everything from thrift shops to high-end electronics. I took a short walk around earlier this afternoon. It was fun to get a taste of what shopping is like here, though it was pretty intimidating to have people come up to me and say, "En qué puedo ayudarle?" ("How can I help you?") when I wasn't looking for anything in particular. ¿Cómo se dice, "I'm just looking"?
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