Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The perks of being yogurt
¿Qué es la diferencia entre un yoghurt y un gringo?
Or:
What is the difference between yogurt and a gringo?
The answer: The yogurt has its own culture
Or so goes a popular joke about gringos down here in Tico Town.
Like most jokes that describe a certain people (and are not merely, entirely hateful), its appeal stems from having a certain perceived truth. I'm not saying that us gringos don't have our own culture, we do, but it is something that is hard to pin down in specifics. From my perspective, the culture of the United States defines itself in sweeping, conceptual ideas. Independence! Individuality! Enterprise! Boldly selling things no man has needed before (and likely still doesn't)! (Okay, so I'm not funny...) After all those huge ideas that we try to embrace as a people, after all those values and ethical pursuits that have been handed down since the Revolution, that we sometimes manage to achieve and sometimes do not, it seems to get very regional.
Every time I travel people ask me for examples of typical foods in my culture. Quite frankly, I don't know. My family rarely fit into any sort of norm here and college is a terrible example (the college culture is another experiment entirely). People in Costa Rica drink (with respect to beer) primarily two things: Imperial and Pilsen. If it's a good night, someone brought along a six-pack of imported Toña from Nicaragua (a definite improvement on CR's Imperial). But that's really all. At home, I daren't even try to summarize the things that have made appearances in my home(s) alone, and no, it's not because the people there are prone to inebriation, rather, variety is the spice of life. These are just two facets of one side of a culture, but, as Costa Rican culture revolves around what goes in their stomachs, it was what occurred to me first.
So here's my question, directed at all of the (probably three) readers of this blog: What do you think is indicative of your culture? What do people eat? What do they value? How do they dress? What defines who you are and where you came from?
Obviously, there's no right answer, but I'm not even looking for things necessarily on the same track. Anyway, humor me! Go! Write something silly. Write something profound. But do me a favor and write something! I'm really curious about how people think about this when they turn the mirror back on themselves.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The other America
Sometimes, people ask me what's different about Costa Rica and I honestly have a hard time coming up with answers. It's not that Costa Rica is so very similar to the United States so much as the fact that I've spent a good deal of time in Latin America in the last year and I've begun to take things for granted. Like the million, corner fruit stands selling fresh fruit, some that I'm familiar with and some that you cannot even pronounce let alone buy in the states, that I pass daily. So, here's a list of beautiful, ugly, phenomenal, confusing, intriguing things about Costa Rica, some of which have been mentioned before, some of which haven't:
1. Toilet paper does not go in the toilet. Ever. The plumbing system can't handle it. I've wondered a couple times what it would be like in the states if we did this...
2. On that note: toilet paper in public restrooms is a toss-up; it might be there, it might not. Always come armed with your own.
3. Sitting in the park watching pigeons, people and eating paletas (popsicles) while chatting with friends is a perfectly acceptable way to spend an afternoon. For everyone. Any day of the week.
4. Food is cheap. It can also be expensive, but if you go local, you can get a very good, very filling meal for $3.00 US. Something that would be at least six in the states. You can get a couple pastries for under a dollar, a paleta for fifty cents, a juice/milk/iced tea box for about the same... on just about any corner of the street.
5. Milk comes in boxes and is stored at room temperature until opened. And oddly enough, tastes quite normal.
6. Sour cream, cream, butter, beans, tomato sauce, mayonnaise, jam, and a myriad of other sauce-type items come in bags. Some with convenient squeeze tops and lids.
7. Anyone (and everyone) who looks oriental is referred to as "chino" or Chinese. I have a friend here who is of partially Japanese descent, she was approached by a man in the park who mentioned how chinos are always good students and study a lot, especially "los chinos de Japon"...or, the chinese from Japan. Go figure.
8. They line-dry everything. My mother owns a washer and dryer, but has yet to use the dryer. I haven't asked what happens during the rainy season yet.
9. A surprising (to me) number of families here own multiple cars but the days you can drive are restricted (within San Jose). On certain days of the week, cars with license plate numbers ending in specific digits are not allowed to enter San Jose, with exceptions made for taxis. This results in a lot of car swapping between family members.
10. Houses are very open. Windows don't seal shut, doors fit their frames loosely and bichos (bugs [in CR; be careful with this word in some countries, as it can be offensive]) are a part of life (my family fumigates).
11. My host father was completely flabbergasted that all the homes where I live have some form of heat. It took him a while to get his head around the fact that it was very difficult to live without it.
12. PNW rain tolerant stoicism does not exist. Everyone uses an umbrella. Of course, here if you didn't, you'd never be dry.
13. Long-distance buses (usually) only sell tickets for the number of seats they have. After Nicaragua, this is still very impressive to me.
14. Still, buses in Central America are rather like Saga tables: there is always room for one more.
15. The educational emphasis in the university seems to be about sixty years behind our own on some levels. There is still a huge emphasis on memorization of facts and mundane details, rather than working at a broad conceptual level which, in some cases, I find admirable, in others, rather grating.
16. Again with respect to expectations for higher education: Thinking for yourself is encouraged but within the confines of what your professor expects. There is little room for intelligent debate and differences of opinion with regard to a topic (at least in my classes). Granted, these last two observations of attitude are complex and not easily summarized in a few lines.
17. There are (for the most part) no dorms. Most students pack their own lunches and generally young people live with their families until they are married.
18. Globe-trotting is not an innately Latino thing to do. They tend to be home-bodies in the best sense of the term. Family is the most important thing, right? And family is at home, so why leave?
19. Racism exists here. And it's largely taken for granted. If someone says they don't like blacks it's often treated with no more social stigma than my saying that I don't like chocolate (granted, there's some shock when you're a woman and people learn you don't like chocolate). At the same time, the majority of Ticos are not racist.
20. Most urban Costa Ricans have a lot of European ancestry and follow European and North American fashion trends. Ergo, I don't really stick out that much.
21. Taxis are plentiful, cheap and, for the most part, reliable.
22. San Jose is not as ugly as many people say. I actually rather like it.
23. One thing I've learned about my own country from being here, it's very hard to provide general answers about the culture and attitude of people from the states. My first response is almost always, "Well, it depends on where you're at..."
24. Costa Ricans are American. Nicaraguans are American. Peruvians are American. Mexicans are American. Brazilians are American. I am from the United States. But I am also American.
25. Electricy and water is expensive and precious. Costa Ricans are much more aware of this than we are.
26. Costa Ricans are proud to be Ticos. But if you ask the average university student if they like living here... they often say no.
27. Rice goes with everything. Except pasta. Sometimes.
28. You don't go barefoot. Ever. The one exception to this rule is the beach. As far as I have observed, this is the only exception.
29. Punctuality is relative.
30. Most of the country is Catholic, many people are devout, many people are completely indifferent. Being devoutly Catholic in Latin America seems to be completely different from being devoutly Catholic in the states, on many levels.
31. Costa Rican radio stations play a very random mix of music. A little Reggaeton, some country, some Phil Collins, Foreignor is always a good choice... you never know what you'll get. I passed the colegio the other day and the entire gym (and street outside) was rocking out to James Brown. It made me happy.
32. To make a sweeping generality: Everyone outside the US is more informed about politics inside it than those who are actually inside.
33. There are two things that Costa Ricans let their relaxed, pura vida attitude dissolve for: futbol and driving. Those are serious business.
34. For the most part, the Costa Rican people are friendly, relaxed and always willing to lend a hand. I really can't say that I've ever met a rude Costa Rican (even the cat-call slinging construction worker will stop and give you good directions if you ask).
35. You can buy jello in plastic tubes at futbol games.
36. Taco Bell, Burger King, McDonald's, and Pizza Hut are prevalent and easy to find. Starbucks is all but nonexistent. Not that I go looking for these anyway.
37. Lasagna here is most commonly made with a white sauce and chicken. So strange.
38. As an exchange student, the majority of your life revolves around food. When you get to eat, what you get/are forced to eat, whether it will offend your family if you say you'd like more or less, whether you get to dish up your own plate, whether you're allowed to cook for yourself, etcetera, etcetera... they are things I will never take for granted again.
39. Professors are always late. You're not late if the professor hasn't walked in the door. You will wait at least half an hour for class to start at least once in the semester.
40. Pre-frosh are an inconvenient truth no matter what country you're in.
41. Books are hard to track down here. Bookstores are mostly small and somewhat expensive. Unfortunately, literature classes can't get away with copying quite as much of their material apparently.
42. More people, in my experience, walk around town plugged into their iPods and phones here than at home.
43. "Cold," like "punctual," is a relative term.
44. "Ahorita" means: immediately, right now, now, shortly, in just a few minutes, here in a bit, in a while...etcetera. It's one of those words in Spanish that I just love to hate...
45. Just like in the states, if you're not careful, you'll be caught on camera and broadcast live on tv at a sports game. Like I just did this afternoon... luckily I wasn't picking my nose.
I think this is quite long enough to be going on with. Pura vida!
1. Toilet paper does not go in the toilet. Ever. The plumbing system can't handle it. I've wondered a couple times what it would be like in the states if we did this...
2. On that note: toilet paper in public restrooms is a toss-up; it might be there, it might not. Always come armed with your own.
3. Sitting in the park watching pigeons, people and eating paletas (popsicles) while chatting with friends is a perfectly acceptable way to spend an afternoon. For everyone. Any day of the week.
4. Food is cheap. It can also be expensive, but if you go local, you can get a very good, very filling meal for $3.00 US. Something that would be at least six in the states. You can get a couple pastries for under a dollar, a paleta for fifty cents, a juice/milk/iced tea box for about the same... on just about any corner of the street.
5. Milk comes in boxes and is stored at room temperature until opened. And oddly enough, tastes quite normal.
6. Sour cream, cream, butter, beans, tomato sauce, mayonnaise, jam, and a myriad of other sauce-type items come in bags. Some with convenient squeeze tops and lids.
7. Anyone (and everyone) who looks oriental is referred to as "chino" or Chinese. I have a friend here who is of partially Japanese descent, she was approached by a man in the park who mentioned how chinos are always good students and study a lot, especially "los chinos de Japon"...or, the chinese from Japan. Go figure.
8. They line-dry everything. My mother owns a washer and dryer, but has yet to use the dryer. I haven't asked what happens during the rainy season yet.
9. A surprising (to me) number of families here own multiple cars but the days you can drive are restricted (within San Jose). On certain days of the week, cars with license plate numbers ending in specific digits are not allowed to enter San Jose, with exceptions made for taxis. This results in a lot of car swapping between family members.
10. Houses are very open. Windows don't seal shut, doors fit their frames loosely and bichos (bugs [in CR; be careful with this word in some countries, as it can be offensive]) are a part of life (my family fumigates).
11. My host father was completely flabbergasted that all the homes where I live have some form of heat. It took him a while to get his head around the fact that it was very difficult to live without it.
12. PNW rain tolerant stoicism does not exist. Everyone uses an umbrella. Of course, here if you didn't, you'd never be dry.
13. Long-distance buses (usually) only sell tickets for the number of seats they have. After Nicaragua, this is still very impressive to me.
14. Still, buses in Central America are rather like Saga tables: there is always room for one more.
15. The educational emphasis in the university seems to be about sixty years behind our own on some levels. There is still a huge emphasis on memorization of facts and mundane details, rather than working at a broad conceptual level which, in some cases, I find admirable, in others, rather grating.
16. Again with respect to expectations for higher education: Thinking for yourself is encouraged but within the confines of what your professor expects. There is little room for intelligent debate and differences of opinion with regard to a topic (at least in my classes). Granted, these last two observations of attitude are complex and not easily summarized in a few lines.
17. There are (for the most part) no dorms. Most students pack their own lunches and generally young people live with their families until they are married.
18. Globe-trotting is not an innately Latino thing to do. They tend to be home-bodies in the best sense of the term. Family is the most important thing, right? And family is at home, so why leave?
19. Racism exists here. And it's largely taken for granted. If someone says they don't like blacks it's often treated with no more social stigma than my saying that I don't like chocolate (granted, there's some shock when you're a woman and people learn you don't like chocolate). At the same time, the majority of Ticos are not racist.
20. Most urban Costa Ricans have a lot of European ancestry and follow European and North American fashion trends. Ergo, I don't really stick out that much.
21. Taxis are plentiful, cheap and, for the most part, reliable.
22. San Jose is not as ugly as many people say. I actually rather like it.
23. One thing I've learned about my own country from being here, it's very hard to provide general answers about the culture and attitude of people from the states. My first response is almost always, "Well, it depends on where you're at..."
24. Costa Ricans are American. Nicaraguans are American. Peruvians are American. Mexicans are American. Brazilians are American. I am from the United States. But I am also American.
25. Electricy and water is expensive and precious. Costa Ricans are much more aware of this than we are.
26. Costa Ricans are proud to be Ticos. But if you ask the average university student if they like living here... they often say no.
27. Rice goes with everything. Except pasta. Sometimes.
28. You don't go barefoot. Ever. The one exception to this rule is the beach. As far as I have observed, this is the only exception.
29. Punctuality is relative.
30. Most of the country is Catholic, many people are devout, many people are completely indifferent. Being devoutly Catholic in Latin America seems to be completely different from being devoutly Catholic in the states, on many levels.
31. Costa Rican radio stations play a very random mix of music. A little Reggaeton, some country, some Phil Collins, Foreignor is always a good choice... you never know what you'll get. I passed the colegio the other day and the entire gym (and street outside) was rocking out to James Brown. It made me happy.
32. To make a sweeping generality: Everyone outside the US is more informed about politics inside it than those who are actually inside.
33. There are two things that Costa Ricans let their relaxed, pura vida attitude dissolve for: futbol and driving. Those are serious business.
34. For the most part, the Costa Rican people are friendly, relaxed and always willing to lend a hand. I really can't say that I've ever met a rude Costa Rican (even the cat-call slinging construction worker will stop and give you good directions if you ask).
35. You can buy jello in plastic tubes at futbol games.
36. Taco Bell, Burger King, McDonald's, and Pizza Hut are prevalent and easy to find. Starbucks is all but nonexistent. Not that I go looking for these anyway.
37. Lasagna here is most commonly made with a white sauce and chicken. So strange.
38. As an exchange student, the majority of your life revolves around food. When you get to eat, what you get/are forced to eat, whether it will offend your family if you say you'd like more or less, whether you get to dish up your own plate, whether you're allowed to cook for yourself, etcetera, etcetera... they are things I will never take for granted again.
39. Professors are always late. You're not late if the professor hasn't walked in the door. You will wait at least half an hour for class to start at least once in the semester.
40. Pre-frosh are an inconvenient truth no matter what country you're in.
41. Books are hard to track down here. Bookstores are mostly small and somewhat expensive. Unfortunately, literature classes can't get away with copying quite as much of their material apparently.
42. More people, in my experience, walk around town plugged into their iPods and phones here than at home.
43. "Cold," like "punctual," is a relative term.
44. "Ahorita" means: immediately, right now, now, shortly, in just a few minutes, here in a bit, in a while...etcetera. It's one of those words in Spanish that I just love to hate...
45. Just like in the states, if you're not careful, you'll be caught on camera and broadcast live on tv at a sports game. Like I just did this afternoon... luckily I wasn't picking my nose.
I think this is quite long enough to be going on with. Pura vida!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
For the record...
...I've been working on the photo thing. Technology hates me. Technology people, we do okay. Technology itself, not so much.
That is all.
That is all.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
It's Hard to Remember
I am officially, and unofficially, for that matter, enjoying the first day of the last half of my stay in Costa Rica.
I come home in 68 days.
And I'm excited about coming home. Really excited. One of the most difficult things about this trip, has been allowing myself to feel okay about that.
When you study abroad or leave the country for some other reason, there is a set of external expectations that go along with that fact. Whether you're going on a five day vacation to Cancun, a two week mission trip to Malawi or a five month study trip to God-knows-where, everyone who is not going has their own ideas about what you will and should get out of your experience. The most prominent among them is: "You will have such an amazing time! I'm so happy that you get to experience this amazing opportunity!" And that, for me, has been the hardest part of this trip.
The thing is, everyone who leaves their own life-norm for something new, has their own preconceived notions about what their experience will be. They have their own fears, their own hopes, their own baggage from past events that they bring to the situation. And then, you have a bad day. Gasp! Something went wrong, badly, differently, more boringly, or in some other way, did not measure up to your standards. And suddenly, for a moment, you're not having fun. Mention it to someone outside your experience and there is a unanimous chorus, like little birds suddenly seeing their mother come in with a worm, "Don't worry! It's worth it! It's such an amazing opportunity! You'll get over it! Think of how many other people would love to be doing what you're doing! Don't forget, it's such an amazing opportunity!" And then you're unhappy because things don't fit what you wanted and also unhappy because for some reason, you let things happen such that you're not getting the amazing experience that everyone says you should be having.
And it took me a long time on this trip to realize that I was thinking that way and to figure out how to stop. I finally realized that I don't have to let others define what this trip should be for me. I don't have to become passionately in love with Costa Rica and want to live here the rest of my life. I do love Costa Rica. It's awesome here and I'm so glad I had this opportunity. But I'm also blessed with a lot of things in the states worth coming back for. And here, I'm going to let you in on a little secret, shh, don't tell anyone... it's okay! I'm allowed to love my family, friends and my home. As long as I don't let that stop me from living my life and exploring all the options, I'm doing just fine.
It's an unfortunate thing that we let big things, like study-abroad, take all the cake. We act as though we only have to live our life to the fullest when we're doing something amazing when, in fact, if we play our cards right, every day of life should be amazing, even if it's only amazing in it's normality (a thing which anyone who has gotten out a bit, now and again, has learned to appreciate as its own type of beauty). I shouldn't live my life in Costa Rica any differently than I do at home and neither should I be more inclined to let someone else define it for me.
Well, this was supposed to be a reflection on the last half of the semester and all the things I've learned, most specifically, with respect to Costa Rica. But it's not. It does however, address many of the things I've learned on this trip. There's just no telling where your thoughts and idly typing fingers will go sometimes, I guess.
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
We're alive for the first time
It's hard to remember were alive for the last time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
To live before you die
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
That our lives are such a short time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
When it takes such a long time-- Lives, Modest Mouse
Finding Nemo
Well, I'm back.*
Crawled home to Heredia yesterday afternoon, after about nine hours on a bus that was alternately hot and sweaty and cold and foggy. I guess that's what happens when you travel from sea-level tropical beaches up through mountain ranges and back down into a large valley in the same day. Costa Rica is kind of like Washington. You can hit pretty much anything within a five hour drive (though the deserts are a bit scarce, here).
Break was good but incredibly hot. Up until this point, my hottest traveling experience was southern Spain in July. I'm not sure the temperature down on Osa actually beat out Sevilla but the humidity sure did. The finalized trip entailed a taxi out of Heredia at 4:25 am to a bus out of San Jose at 5:00am to a taxi out of Palmar Norte at 1:00pm to a riverboat out of Sierpe at 2:00pm after which my friend, Anne, and I finally arrived in Drake Bay where we found our hotel and met up with our four other friends at about 3:00 in the afternoon. It was a long day.
Drake Bay is a one-gravel-road town that follows various beautiful beaches along the northern part of the Osa Peninsula. Well, actually, I lie. Drake Bay is the body of water that the town of Agujitas sits on. But everyone just calls it all Drake Bay. We spent a couple days there being beach bums, I spent one being a hammock bum as I managed to let myself get fatigued and dehydrated (it's this thing I do for spring break...) and one day we hired a boat out to Isla del Caña. The trip out to the island was probably the best part of the whole trip.
It was a forty-five minute ride out, during which, we saw dolphins, flying fish and sea turtles. Flying fish are now on my top ten list of ridiculously awesome creatures. I'd never been impressed with them before, but it's a very intriguing thing to be cruising along in a motorboat and have a fish keep pace with you, in the air, about a six feet away. I mean, really...a little bit confused about what sort of animal it wants to be, but cool nonetheless.
After we got close to the island and over top of the reef, Nemo (no really, that was the name of our boat captain/guide, I couldn't make something like that up) dropped us in the water to do some snorkeling. I didn't see a lot, the water was deep enough and I am blind enough that much of it stayed a very lovely blue blur. I did see some fun tropical fish and others saw parrot fish, jellyfish (sea jellies, for you biopolitically correct nerds out there), and we spotted a couple white-tipped reef sharks. It was pretty cool.
After snorkeling, we headed up to the island where Nemo dropped us off to eat lunch and do some hiking. It was a culinarily creative week as we were living out of communal hostel kitchens and trying to save money and spend it on more interesting things. Anne and I discovered the joys of Lissano (delicious Costa Rican sauce) beans in a bag on bread with tuna. Sounds terrible, yes, but you'll eat anything if you're hungry enough and this actually wasn't that bad. The rest of the crew ended up with good ol' pb&j (which, as noted prior, is not as cheap and easy as our US instincts tell us) and we cut up a pineapple and split it six ways. All in all, it was a strange but tasty picnic.
Afer lunch, we hiked up to the top of the island where there were supposedly, at one time, huge, granite spheres left from pre-Columbian inhabitants. Now there are only a few very small spheres, measuring about a foot and a half in diameter as the rest were apparently removed by some wealthy man who possessed a lot of machinery and a very large boat some years back. It was, suffice to say, a sort of anticlimactic hike during which, I got bitten or stung by some anonymous Costa Rican creepycrawly that seems to have done no lasting damage. After that we headed back down to catch our boat ride back to our temporary home in Drake Bay.
After three days in Drake, we headed to Puerto Jimenez. It is a slightly larger town with a few more tourists and expats and it was hot enough that we spent a lot of our remaining time expending as little energy as possible; this included finally taking a look at my homework. Our second day there, though, we hired a guide to take us out to Corcovado National Park. The national park is home to some of the last primary growth rainforest north of Panama. I was so excited to see this! Unfortunately, I got ripped off. Our guide decided that the highlight of any trip into the park would be getting face to face with a real-live, nearly extinct, taipir. So that's what he set out to make happen. And it did. He found us a taipir and it was cool, but it wasn't what I really wanted to see. We walked between six and seven hours (a total of 18 km according to our guide, but I'm not sure I believe him) along a trail in the park that ran north along the western coast of the peninsula. As a result, we never got into any deep jungle and I never got to see any terrain that was vastly different from what I've seen before. Pero, asi es la vida, that's life. I guess I'll just have to go back, right?
Anyway, we got up at 3:30 Saturday morning to make a big breakfast of all the little bits of food we had left over from the week and caught the bus out of Port Jim at 5:00am. After nine sweltering/chilly hours on the bus we made it back to San Jose and then Heredia. It was a good week. In retrospect, I ended up sacrificing seeing what I really wanted to see (the mountains of Monteverde) for some more social interaction (a group of six instead of what would have probably been a week by myself) and it was worth it. I'm just not an endless heat and beach sort of person. Sand drives me up the wall but I can stare at mist-covered mountains for hours on end and never get bored. Thats my next trip, hopefully, outside of the excursion ISEP has coming up in a couple weeks, though it will probably also be my last considering what time I have left.
But I have rambled on quite long enough for one post. My mid-term reflections will have to go in another. I'll write just as much, but perhaps this way, it will be easier to pick and choose what is of interest. Hope everyone is doing well and that you all have an amazing Easter weekend. Pura vida!
*A gold star to anyone who recognizes that particular quote. Though, the longer you've known me, the easier that task becomes.
Crawled home to Heredia yesterday afternoon, after about nine hours on a bus that was alternately hot and sweaty and cold and foggy. I guess that's what happens when you travel from sea-level tropical beaches up through mountain ranges and back down into a large valley in the same day. Costa Rica is kind of like Washington. You can hit pretty much anything within a five hour drive (though the deserts are a bit scarce, here).
Break was good but incredibly hot. Up until this point, my hottest traveling experience was southern Spain in July. I'm not sure the temperature down on Osa actually beat out Sevilla but the humidity sure did. The finalized trip entailed a taxi out of Heredia at 4:25 am to a bus out of San Jose at 5:00am to a taxi out of Palmar Norte at 1:00pm to a riverboat out of Sierpe at 2:00pm after which my friend, Anne, and I finally arrived in Drake Bay where we found our hotel and met up with our four other friends at about 3:00 in the afternoon. It was a long day.
Drake Bay is a one-gravel-road town that follows various beautiful beaches along the northern part of the Osa Peninsula. Well, actually, I lie. Drake Bay is the body of water that the town of Agujitas sits on. But everyone just calls it all Drake Bay. We spent a couple days there being beach bums, I spent one being a hammock bum as I managed to let myself get fatigued and dehydrated (it's this thing I do for spring break...) and one day we hired a boat out to Isla del Caña. The trip out to the island was probably the best part of the whole trip.
It was a forty-five minute ride out, during which, we saw dolphins, flying fish and sea turtles. Flying fish are now on my top ten list of ridiculously awesome creatures. I'd never been impressed with them before, but it's a very intriguing thing to be cruising along in a motorboat and have a fish keep pace with you, in the air, about a six feet away. I mean, really...a little bit confused about what sort of animal it wants to be, but cool nonetheless.
After we got close to the island and over top of the reef, Nemo (no really, that was the name of our boat captain/guide, I couldn't make something like that up) dropped us in the water to do some snorkeling. I didn't see a lot, the water was deep enough and I am blind enough that much of it stayed a very lovely blue blur. I did see some fun tropical fish and others saw parrot fish, jellyfish (sea jellies, for you biopolitically correct nerds out there), and we spotted a couple white-tipped reef sharks. It was pretty cool.
After snorkeling, we headed up to the island where Nemo dropped us off to eat lunch and do some hiking. It was a culinarily creative week as we were living out of communal hostel kitchens and trying to save money and spend it on more interesting things. Anne and I discovered the joys of Lissano (delicious Costa Rican sauce) beans in a bag on bread with tuna. Sounds terrible, yes, but you'll eat anything if you're hungry enough and this actually wasn't that bad. The rest of the crew ended up with good ol' pb&j (which, as noted prior, is not as cheap and easy as our US instincts tell us) and we cut up a pineapple and split it six ways. All in all, it was a strange but tasty picnic.
Afer lunch, we hiked up to the top of the island where there were supposedly, at one time, huge, granite spheres left from pre-Columbian inhabitants. Now there are only a few very small spheres, measuring about a foot and a half in diameter as the rest were apparently removed by some wealthy man who possessed a lot of machinery and a very large boat some years back. It was, suffice to say, a sort of anticlimactic hike during which, I got bitten or stung by some anonymous Costa Rican creepycrawly that seems to have done no lasting damage. After that we headed back down to catch our boat ride back to our temporary home in Drake Bay.
After three days in Drake, we headed to Puerto Jimenez. It is a slightly larger town with a few more tourists and expats and it was hot enough that we spent a lot of our remaining time expending as little energy as possible; this included finally taking a look at my homework. Our second day there, though, we hired a guide to take us out to Corcovado National Park. The national park is home to some of the last primary growth rainforest north of Panama. I was so excited to see this! Unfortunately, I got ripped off. Our guide decided that the highlight of any trip into the park would be getting face to face with a real-live, nearly extinct, taipir. So that's what he set out to make happen. And it did. He found us a taipir and it was cool, but it wasn't what I really wanted to see. We walked between six and seven hours (a total of 18 km according to our guide, but I'm not sure I believe him) along a trail in the park that ran north along the western coast of the peninsula. As a result, we never got into any deep jungle and I never got to see any terrain that was vastly different from what I've seen before. Pero, asi es la vida, that's life. I guess I'll just have to go back, right?
Anyway, we got up at 3:30 Saturday morning to make a big breakfast of all the little bits of food we had left over from the week and caught the bus out of Port Jim at 5:00am. After nine sweltering/chilly hours on the bus we made it back to San Jose and then Heredia. It was a good week. In retrospect, I ended up sacrificing seeing what I really wanted to see (the mountains of Monteverde) for some more social interaction (a group of six instead of what would have probably been a week by myself) and it was worth it. I'm just not an endless heat and beach sort of person. Sand drives me up the wall but I can stare at mist-covered mountains for hours on end and never get bored. Thats my next trip, hopefully, outside of the excursion ISEP has coming up in a couple weeks, though it will probably also be my last considering what time I have left.
But I have rambled on quite long enough for one post. My mid-term reflections will have to go in another. I'll write just as much, but perhaps this way, it will be easier to pick and choose what is of interest. Hope everyone is doing well and that you all have an amazing Easter weekend. Pura vida!
*A gold star to anyone who recognizes that particular quote. Though, the longer you've known me, the easier that task becomes.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Life as we know it
I have no idea what I'm going to say here.
Consider yourself forewarned.
Anywho, today is Thursday, April 2nd. (Starting with the obvious seemed easiest.) That means I have been in Costa Rica for two full months. Almost nine weeks. 61 days.
And I'm tired.
It's been a really long week. My two lives (North American and Central) have both been demanding slightly more of late. Next week is Semana Santa so we've been putting the finishing touches on our grand escape plan (which looks like it will work!). Yesterday was my Spanish midterm. How it went is really anyone's guess at this point. I feel like I knew the material but not how the prof wanted us to present it. Add in super hot temperatures (record-breaking, actually, according to the madre), a few unexpected rainfalls and frequent power outages and the removal of the UNA's bus service (without the completion of the bridge) along with trying to coordinate schedule planning, registration and other logistical joys with Whitworth back home...and, as I said, I'm tired.
I'm really looking forward to spring break while at the same time, I'm trying to find a mallet to beat down the part of me that keeps pleading, "Please, just let me sleep!" I don't know why it thinks I'll start listening to it now. Though, I did happen on something of a conundrum in my daydreaming yesterday on the bus to San Jose. I was contemplating going snorkeling (something I've never done but always wanted to do), when I wondered how that would actually work. I wear glasses. I've never worn contacts and as a result don't have any. And I'm completely blind without my glasses. Well, maybe not completely blind, I'd probably see a shark coming at me (assuming it came slowly enough), but I'm pretty sure most of the finer details of the beauty that is the ocean floor would be lost on me. Not to mention the massive disorientation that occurs when I wander around without my classes. Never underestimate the importance of your depth perception. Treasure it while it lasts.
So anyway, that particular adventure may have to wait for another day or perhaps I'll get really creative and figure something out. We'll see. For those of you who actually contact me in real-time, or something loosely akin to it, I'm leaving at o'dark thirty Saturday morning (the 4th, if you'd like to know) and won't be back until late the Saturday after that. And, assuming there are no crisises, I have no intention of checking in the with the rest of world between. So don't expect me to or be alarmed if it seems as though I've fallen off the face of the planet. With any luck, I'll have done just that.
Well, that's pretty much the price of peas in Paris. Pura vida!
Consider yourself forewarned.
Anywho, today is Thursday, April 2nd. (Starting with the obvious seemed easiest.) That means I have been in Costa Rica for two full months. Almost nine weeks. 61 days.
And I'm tired.
It's been a really long week. My two lives (North American and Central) have both been demanding slightly more of late. Next week is Semana Santa so we've been putting the finishing touches on our grand escape plan (which looks like it will work!). Yesterday was my Spanish midterm. How it went is really anyone's guess at this point. I feel like I knew the material but not how the prof wanted us to present it. Add in super hot temperatures (record-breaking, actually, according to the madre), a few unexpected rainfalls and frequent power outages and the removal of the UNA's bus service (without the completion of the bridge) along with trying to coordinate schedule planning, registration and other logistical joys with Whitworth back home...and, as I said, I'm tired.
I'm really looking forward to spring break while at the same time, I'm trying to find a mallet to beat down the part of me that keeps pleading, "Please, just let me sleep!" I don't know why it thinks I'll start listening to it now. Though, I did happen on something of a conundrum in my daydreaming yesterday on the bus to San Jose. I was contemplating going snorkeling (something I've never done but always wanted to do), when I wondered how that would actually work. I wear glasses. I've never worn contacts and as a result don't have any. And I'm completely blind without my glasses. Well, maybe not completely blind, I'd probably see a shark coming at me (assuming it came slowly enough), but I'm pretty sure most of the finer details of the beauty that is the ocean floor would be lost on me. Not to mention the massive disorientation that occurs when I wander around without my classes. Never underestimate the importance of your depth perception. Treasure it while it lasts.
So anyway, that particular adventure may have to wait for another day or perhaps I'll get really creative and figure something out. We'll see. For those of you who actually contact me in real-time, or something loosely akin to it, I'm leaving at o'dark thirty Saturday morning (the 4th, if you'd like to know) and won't be back until late the Saturday after that. And, assuming there are no crisises, I have no intention of checking in the with the rest of world between. So don't expect me to or be alarmed if it seems as though I've fallen off the face of the planet. With any luck, I'll have done just that.
Well, that's pretty much the price of peas in Paris. Pura vida!
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