Costa Rica

Had a fun weekend in Monteverde, though admittedly didn´t take advantage of an entire weekend of free time, good health and blue skies. I regret not making more of an effort to hike in one of the reserves, but alas I was too busy eating cake and ice cream and more cake and more ice cream. I had a great time celebrating Sebastian´s 6th B-Day on Saturday with about ten of his 6 year old friends, most of the neighborhood families on our block and countless members of extended family - grandparents, aunts, cousins, etc. I knew it was going to be a good day, when I returned home to a Sponge Bob pinata laying in my bed - under the sheets, head on my pillow. Before the party Roy, Marlon and I did one loop (about 8 miles) of the Caminata, the fundraising annual walk organized by the school. It was a scorching day and 8 miles spent trudging up and down the rugged terrain of Monteverde inspired a perfect appetite for the pizza-eating and water balloon throwing that was to follow.

We returned home tired and hungry, but excited to see Sebas and all of his regalos (presents), most of which were battery operated cars and trucks. I found some little parachute men at the one toy store in town (which also doubles as the library and bookstore) which were a huge hit. We spent a good hour after pizza-eating, launching the men off the balcony of the house. The party lasted about four hours, replete with food, pinata bashing, and running (ad nauseum) up and down the dirt road leading to the house, yellling, pretending to fall (sometimes really falling) and doing it all over again.

As for the rest of the weekend, I spent Friday night dancing at the usual haunts, and went to a house party on Saturday, which was strangely reminsicent of the house parties of high school days. Want-to-be-bouncers lingered at the front door inspecting the caliber of party-goers and American music blasted inside a room devoid of any furniture. Some differences; the iridescdent disco ball hanging from the center of the room and the blacklights and flourescent Bob Marley posters papering the walls. Another somewhat arresting difference about this party and those I attended in high school was that a few of my students MOTHERS, who admittedly are about my age, were there drinking and dancing. It was slightly awkward talking to Mark´s mom about how Mark didn´t hand in his poetry assignment while waiting in line for a beer.

Anyways, Sunday was very lazy. Yuri´s first student and the namesake (!) of Pablito came to visit for a few days. Paul, though we called him Pablo Grande, is a really good guy and the boys were so excited to see him again. Unfortunately with Holly (the other student) and Sergio (a cousin), that made 9 people living in a house with 5 beds and one bathroom. Yuri pretty much slept on a blanket on the kitchen floor. I offered her space in my master bedroom, but she insisted that this was normal and she´s used to sleeping on the floor. I for one felt entirely not normal, retiring to my spacious room for one, while five boys crammed into a double bed. Roy suggested that we all sleep in the ¨big bed¨ (n.b. the ¨big bed¨ is not quite a full sized bed) for one night, but we decided that Pablito might get squashed during the night.

The school week has been going well...pretty uneventful. Looking forward to another weekend in MV. I´m planning to hike Cerro Amigos, a relatively short, but very steep trail to the highest point in Costa Rica. On a clear day it´s possible to see Arenal volcano from the summit. Other than that, I`m beginning to gear up for my trip to Nicaragua next Saturday. Excited to start traveling again. And then, only about three weeks left at school - unbelievable!

Hope things are well in the north. Adios por ahora.

Kat

When I emerged from my room last Saturday morning around 8am, Sebastian told me that he was very happy I did not die during the night. I couldn´t help but agree. St. Patrick´s Day 2006 will be remembered; unfortunately not by happy images swimming among pints of green beer, not reminiscent of years past spent with friends-uncharastically-¨rowdy¨for a school/work night, dancing (on bar stools) to Irish bands considered authentic by the fact that they owned, held, or at some point during the night played a fiddle. The only thing congruent with this year´s St. Patty´s and my St. Patty´s of year´s past was my ¨Everyone Loves An Irish Girl¨ t-shirt, but even that may have to be retired after what we went through together. The evening started off well enough, my t-shirt lay on my bed, ready to be donned at Bar Amigos. I monopolized dinner conversation attempting to explain the celebration of St. Patty´s to Yuri and the boys, but by the end of the discussion they gleened for the most part that it was a party with muchas cervezas (I guess that´s accurate). Unfortunately cerveza was not in store for me that evening, as I spent this St. Patrick´s Day writhing in my bed against a jungle virus that left me weak, aching, and probably 5 lbs. thinner. Spending the evening sicker than I ever remember feeling, I woke the next morning to Yuri´s muy preocupada (very worried) face offering me a cup of herbal tea. The boys were peaking, concerned but also seemingly slightly bewildered that I had survived the night, from behind my door. Note to self: In a house the size of the average two car garage with paper thin walls, a wretching stomach virus does not go unnoticed. Alas, I did avoid yet another trip to La Clinca and my appetite has since returned and I now fully understand (and am so grateful) that I will in fact live to see the Monteverde sun again tomorrow.

So, that incident set me back a little bit, but my grave discomfort was preceeded by a fantastic weekend in Montezuma; a hippie, artist beach town on the southern tip of the Nicoya peninsula. In Montezuma, I ate seafood paella on the beach and spent the evenings visiting vendors and artists in the streets, listening to predominantly reggae music bellowing from nearby bars and restaurants. Montezuma is such a neat little town - about the length of an average DC block, it is littered with little shops and outdoor cafes. It´s easy to find restauants with seating in the sand, and it´s hard to find a spot to eat breakfast that isn´t surrounded by either palm trees or some sort of thatched roof. Upon arrival to this salty seaside town, Jordie and I quickly discovered Ylang Ylang, a fairly new, upscale hotel/restaurant that offered a tropical beverage happy hour on their very beautiful patio. Having just deboarded the bus from my almost 7 hour journey, with what I now fondly refer to as my very windblown, but ¨NOT wind-blown-sexy¨ hair, we didn´t exactly fit in with the rest of the bar clientel, but it didn´t preclude us from spending a few hours drinking Green Turtles, Costa Rican Dreams, and Love Shacks into the early evening. We then wandered back to our $5-night hostel(n.b. our two hour happy hour session cost more than our accomodation for the two nights we stayed in Montezuma.) We spent the next day hiking in the reserve ending on Playa Blanca; a white sand, rip-tide roaring beach at the opposite end of the reserve. We couldn´t swim much because of the strong current and the sharp rocks close to the water´s edge. That evening, we hiked up to the waterfall in town. During our 30-45 minute steep ascent to the top of the falls, I repeatedly assured Jordie that I would jump from the top of the middle falls into the pool below with him, but upon hearing the water as we approached (sight unseen), I promptly renegged my promise. Jordie claimed he had seen several Ticos jump into the pool below the other day and a few tourists, and it SEEMED safe... I did stand at the waterfall´s edge for close to fifteen minutes, counting ¨uno, dos, tres¨ and then promptly retreating back to safety. It got to the point that the locals swimming in the nearby watering hole starting counting with me and then laughing uproariously when ¨tres¨ came again and I was still standing on top of the rocks. I think the fifteen minutes I spent contemplating my jump had my heart racing harder than the demanding hike to the top of the falls. We ate dinner on the beach again that night and found some fellow travelers to play cards with before bed.

Monteverde proved, once again, to offer a happy homecoming. We´ve officially entered the dry season and the sun is shining most mornings and oppressively searing by midday. I´ve decided, bregrudgingly, not to do the Camita (60 mile hike from MV to Arenal), because my accident prone, curiously-fragile-as-of-late body might not make it. Instead I´m excited to attend Sebastian´s 6th birthday party on Saturday. We even pitched a tent in the front yard last night in anticipation of the party - obviously.

This past Sunday upon feeling human and functioning again, I decided to go to Los Juntos, a tiny, mostly Tico town about 45 minutes south of MV. I met a few friends here from Los Juntos and thought it would be nice and relaxing to spend an afternoon with them. We had plans to go to the hot springs and eat lunch with their grandmother, who they boasted was a fabulous Italian cook. I´m happy our lasagna-agenda fell through because my stomach was not yet ready for that challenge. Anyways, Los Juntos was such a pleasant change of pace, minus the blatant stares I received upon deboarding the van...not so many tourists in Los Juntos. I asked my friend if I was the only gringa in the entire town, and he responded pensively and candidly, ¨no, there was a white woman that once taught in the elementary school...at least she was there this fall¨. So, it was somewhat of a novelty for everyone. Roy and his mom took me to meet their entire family; aunts, uncles, cousins - all of whom lived within 3-4 minutes walking distance from their house. We went to a local soccer match and then to a pool for some cooling off. It´s amazing how much hotter it is off the mountain, only less than an hour away from MV. After an early dinner, we went outside to sit on the sidewalk and wait for the 5pm bus to take me back to MV. 5pm rolled around and 5:15pm, 5:30pm...then everyone started making phone calls simultaneously. Of course Roy´s mom knew the bus driver, and also knew the mechanic that serviced the bus that morning, and knew the woman that owned the soda (diner) across from the station, and Roy and his sister had friends also taking the bus...so a frenzy of calls were made to find out where the bus was and why it was late. After lots of heated discussion of which I understood little, everyone hung up their phones and shaking their heads retreated back to the house, saying only, ¨No bus today - you sleep here¨. Hmmmmmm...not so ideal, when I needed to be at work the following day at 8am and the next bus out of town was at 10am. We decided it was best that I take a ¨local car¨early the next morning. The car left at 5am and I needed to be at the statue in the center of town to get my ride by 4:30am. I should have known something was amiss when while sleepily stumbling to the statue in the dark, I was told that my dress was not ideal for the ride. Ends up that this ¨car¨ that was to transport me the 45 minutes back to MV, was more of a flatbed truck with a cage fixed on the back. We crammed about 15 people all standing, mostly day workers (all men) and myself, and a chicken and small litter of puppies onto the truck and headed back to the mountains. And so I arrived in MV, slightly disoriented, totally relieved ...I only wish I could have heard what bystanders must have thought as they watched the cargo truck from Los Juntos arrive that Monday morning, a random gringa chick in a brown dress aboard, clinging to the bars on the side of the truck holding a puppy.

On the beach, on the trails, on the back of the flatbed...pura vida.

Kat

Apparently, the 8th of March is a holiday honoring all women in Costa Rica...unless Andre the Civics teacher was lying to me, or I misunderstood his Spanish (both viable options). Anyways, I´m enjoying being celebrated here today, though I haven´t received any presents yet.

My return to Monteverde has been a cozy homecoming after time away. I´ve begun my intensive Spanish classes at the language institute in town and after two straight hours of trying to speak Spanish one and one with my teacher, I feel like I´ve been hit by one of the non-fuel efficient, half broken-down Tico buses. It´s exhausting to try to fumble my way through two hours of conversation in a foreign language. At least my students and host brothers can help me with my homework. ¨Necesito ayuda¨(I need help) has become a ritual phrase to which my tico brothers have grown accustomed...they stumble into my bedroom, shaking their heads, saying ¨mas tarea otra vez¨(more homework again?)

Heading to Montezuma for some more beach this weekend and San Jose next weekend. I´m hoping to catch a soccer match in the city and catch up with a few friends I met down here that recently moved there. As much as I love this quiet town with one supermarket, one post office, one bank, and three bars (priorities!), it will be nice to be in a city again for a few days.

School is going really well. I finally feel like I´m starting to know the students and their personalities which makes working with them both easier and more enjoyable. The school is bustling with tons of volunteers. We have a few high school groups from the US working on trail maintenance and reforestation projects on the school grounds and a church group is here helping to build a new classroom. On top of that, we´re expecting a student teaching group to join us for three weeks to observe and assist in the classrooms. Besides the overcrowded computer room and longer lines at the bathrooms, this also means that I will probably have another volunteer in my homestay with me. He/she hasn´t arrived yet, but I´m just waiting for the one-man construction crew to begin adding another bedroom onto our house.

Ok, heading to class. Pura vida,

Kat

So for the past week, I've been traveling on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica and gleefully frolicking south of the border in Panama. I know that working 9-2pm may not necessitate 7 days off every month, but I think they're onto something here. Life is good - I have found the oft-repeated "Pura Vida" the locals sound as greeting and farewell...really they say "Pura Vida" to any/everthing. Food is pura vida, a sunny day is pura vida, a spilled beer is pura vida if it was at least half empty. Pure life - good life abounds here.

So, as for my debatedly much "needed", but assuredly much enjoyed vacation: A word of advice: BOCAS DEL TORO...go! It's the most amazing little island off the coast of Panama. Devoid of paved roads and actually lacking roads of any sort in a lot of places, it has lush jungle, pristine beaches, and such a deserted and undiscovered island vibe. Because many parts of the island can't be reached by car, we took water taxis around the island and often hiked through or "around" (for the coordinated ones in the group) knee high water to get into town. I don't think I've ever seen more stars at night. You'll be happy to know that I took daily naps in hammocks for all of you. Every morning I ate breakfast on a deck that extended out over the water, past the beach. If I looked to the right or left of my cereal bowl into the slats on the floor, I saw sparkling blue water. I almost applied for the vacant manager position at the hotel, but alas Biostats at BU will be as fun as eating pineapple on the beach and playing ultimate frisbee in the sand all day, right??

Anyways, I refrained from moving yet further south for an indefinite period of time and boarded the water taxi back to the mainland and crossed the border (slowly and thoughtfully) back into Costa Rica three days later, but as I've promised before, I'll be back. I spent a few days in Puerto Viejo; a small, surf-crazed, marajuana-dazed beach town in southern Costa Rica. Then headed to Cahuita, an equally burnt out, but less touristy (i.e. less hungover Americans passed out on the beach who came to visit over a year ago and never quite found there way home) beach town. The Caribbean coast has a distinctly different feel than the Pacific side, perhaps grittier or maybe it just seems dirtier and less safe. I tried to find things to love in the lazy, unshowered, and unmotivated beach-bum cloud that hovered close to every town I visited en el Caribe, but I seem to prefer the hilly walks, jungle hikes and crashing cold waves I've found on the Pacific Coast. I did have some damn good grilled Caribbean fish dinners during my Caribe travels and walked around in board shorts and unwashed hair for four days, almost passing as a surfer. Of course Monteverde, nestled in the north central/western part of the country has a mountain-heart distinct to itself and I seem to be falling in love with this green mountain town.

All in all, vacation was a blast. Unfortunatley, lots of time spent on hot, crowded buses, but also much time with new friends who are proving to be a great group of people. Admittedly, I giggle when reading weather reports from the DC and Boston areas. I sit in the internet cafe in my tank top and tan lines and think about all of you. More than the sun though, I wish you could enjoy this town with me. Monteverde; the people, the mountains, the wind which tears up and down the hills at night, the music and dancing, it's so amazing to feel at home here. I can 't believe I've already been here a month...both my sluggish and jumbled Spanish and the fact that this means I only have two months left leave me more than a little distraught. I can't wait for my family to visit. I was talking to the teachers after school one day about how wonderful it is to share a special place with people who are special to you. I am so excited to share this country with the people I love...so as much as April 28th looms dark as my last day working here, there is a glittering lining surrounding that day because I'll be awaiting a very special cargo from the San Jose airport (book those flights Mom, Dad and Karyn!!) And I have a very special nephew to meet upon my return home. So (Tony), you're right, I've fallen in love with this life and this place, but I'm coming home...until then, however, visitors recommended. I will recieve you with open arms and show you everything close to my heart here; the trails I have found to run free from falling in ditches, the place I enjoy my favorite cup of te con leche, my slightly improved salsa skills (courtesy of spending every Friday and Sunday night stumbling and sometimes twirling to Monteverde's finest band, Taco Laco at Bar Amigos). I'll introduce you to my Costa Rican "brothers" who succeeded in worming there way into my heart almost as quickly as they felt comfortable snuggling into a warm space in my bed, the school, the reserve, the hikes, the sunset. The very post-card-scene nature of most days here.

...so much to hold dear. Ok, that's all for now. Pura vida.

To access the photos without subscribing to the site: http://www.travellerspoint.com/photos/gallery/users/CRKat/

About the photos, apparently I'm pasting huge files into my blog which is why I used up all of my space with 4 photos. Once I figure out how to reformat the photos, I'll have more up.

I had a great weekend in Samara, but have sinced returned to rainy and windy Monteverde with a terrible ear infection. I visited the local clinic today and spent over an hour with the doctor going over my medical history (from mono to jaw surgery, he took a comprehensive history and just stared in awe at me from behind his desk). Anyways, after missing most of the school day, he prescribed some ear drops and pain meds, but I´m heading back tomorrow to pick up some antibiotics. I returned home from the clinic to find the front wall of the house missing. Yuri had mentioned something about ¨la pared¨ before I left this morning, but my limited spanish coupled with my comprimised hearing left me slightly confused. I didn´t realize, la pared (the wall) of the house was being torn down today. Apparently, we´re having an addition put on the house. Thankfully, the pain meds made me sleepy and I was able to take a nap despite constant jackhammering.
A new student will be staying with us for a few weeks starting Wednesday. I actually think the addition on the house will be her bedroom. I hope...otherwise, I´ll be having nightly shared-bed-sleepovers with strangers again.
Anyways, Samara was beautiful. It´s a relatively small and quaint beach town with a good mix of tourists and locals. We found good restaurants and a memorable dance club, Tuti Fruity, at which to spend our evenings. About 20 of us rented two houses for $5/night which sounded great until the ¨landlord¨ suggested that we bring our backpacks with us where ever we go, because the house tends to get robbed almost every weekend. Though I appreciated his candidness, I wasn´t so excited about carrying all of my belongings with me to the beach, restaurants, club, etc. In the end, we left our things (minus ipods, cameras, epipens, etc) in the house and they remained undisturbed the entire weekend. I spent most of the day on the beach and ate fruit and ice cream sundaes for lunch everyday...all in all, a great weekend.
Heading to the Caribbean coast on Saturday and then to Panama on Monday. I may pass as a Tica after all of this beach time.

Hola ola (¨Hello wave¨...that´s all we´ve been saying since the beach...) Hope you too find some sun soon.

Kat

A word about viewing the photos; I think you have to ¨subscribe¨to the site to have access to the album. I haven´t loaded any new ones, but I hope to after I return from Panama. It takes about 8 minutes/photo so I have to be in a patient mood. Salud.