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.
Saturday, November 1
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.
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