FINAL POST

We traveled to Puerto Viejo- my first time to the Carribean coast. Our hotel, the Banana Azul (Blue Banana) was super super awesome. It was run by two gay men and was just reopening the day we arrived. I got a luxurious room with a balcony and a hammock, AND the bugs weren't that bad (in the hotel at least- our hikes were a different story). The beach, Playa Barbara (shout out to Aunt Babs!) was maybe 5 steps away. But let me tell you, this ain't your grandma's beachfront. These waves rocked my world and spin cycled me 3 times in a row. I crawled back to land and swung in a hammock. Smamacita claims that she body surfed a wave (up for debate) and almost lost her bathsuit bottoms in Davvy Jones' Locker.

For our first dinner we ate at Monita Bonita (Beautiful Feminine Monkey) Smother and Stan split a red snapper and I got sushi- not bad, not bad at all. A live Calypso band came towards the end and ran through some great Belefonte hits. On our way out we stopped to admire lobsters, huge suckers with no pinchers! We also had a chance run-in with the owner, a gringa who I think had no actual knowledge of Spanish (based upon her sad miscommunications with the waiters).

The next morning as we ate our huevos rancheros, Gekko Tours came to inform us that snorkeling visibility was poor and asked if we wanted to postpone our trip. We opted to hold off for the next day and instead did the trifecta of Animal Rescue/Chocolate Lady/Waterfall- an obvious grouping of the coolest tourist attractions.

The animal rescue introduced us to a variety of snakes- including the BUSH MASTER, the most deadly snake in Costa Rica. Of 6 reported bites, 5 have been fatal. But you can tell by those numbers that the snakes are reclusive and don't usually attack. The coolest part about the reserve was the spider monkey babies. Our guide (a nice Spaniard whose specialty is primates) constantly had at least one on her head. An interesting note, you should always pick up monkeys by the tail, or cola.

Another really epic moment happened with our guide brought out both a three toed and a toe toed sloth. The three toed is my favorite as it reminds me a lot of Cammy Cakes. See facebook for upclose/personal sloth photos. Biggest disappointment: the caymens. They're like a foot long and just sat there. Apparently the local lore is that the tails are aphrodisiacs, so people will hunt them, cut off the tail and let them go.

Hasta Luego, Costa Rica: parte uno

Twas a whirlwind week, truly la vida luja (life of luxury), ergo I didn't have time to sit on mis pompis to write about it- I was too busy!

But now, from the frigid heart of winter, Colorado Springs (Current temp 27°F) and rocking out to Jane Child, I have time to recount my travels with Smamacita y Esteban (the Spanish names for Smother and Stan).

Well, as previously posted, heaven is not located in the skies or the great unknown, but rather about 5k from the Juan Santamaría International Airport; it is better known as The Marriott.

We boot-scooted out at a brisk 8 am though, there was much country to see and we could not relax in heaven forever. We bused to La Fortuna with a group of Swedish women, they laughed a lot and had a full foldout map of Costa Rica. La Fortuna is central, a little nothern, and at the base of the Arenal Volcano. And literally AT THE BASE of the Arenal Volcano is Las Lomas del Volcan, aka our hotel. Should you chose to google this hotel, I assure you their photos do not do the pool justice, as that is where we spent the afternoon admiring our (almost) view of the peak.

We had an afternoon hike to view this active volcano (fun fact: because there is such a concentration of elements with high melting points which I can't remember right now, the volcano only spews solid rocks, NO LIQUID LAVA, so suck on that Hawaii.) Our hike was with some fun Spaniards, well most were fun, there was one odd man we named Slingblade and his ladyfriend, but they mostly kept to themselves. While the viewing of the Volcano was not the fire-show we'd hoped for, the hike was actually really fun and we saw some serious spiders (see the pictures that I'm sure Smamacita will soon post).

Afterwards we went to Tabacón Hot Springs, it was like Glenwood Hot Springs, only at least 5 independent, clear, uncrowded pools with a swim-up bar, so wait- it was nothing like Glenwood Hot Springs. We enjoyed a few Imperials on tap, Smamcita rather chose a long island and then the three of us went down the waterslide train style- no bloody noses! Dinner was this feast of the gods buffet, and I even got a little shotglass of arroz con leche for dessert. Esteban befriended a nice waiter and mercifully snagged us a separate table from the group, who we liked for the most part, except Slingblade and his ladyfriend.

The next day we got up to go horsebackriding (is that one word?) to la cataracta de La Fortuna (La Fortuna Falls). Smamacita is fairly confident our guide was con goma (hungover) because he said he was sleepy and he reminded her of Ryan when he is hungover. Our horses were named Sudden Death, Killer and Terminator... supposedly. Truly they lacked the fire within that would have necessitated the goofy helmets (a surprising show of safety in an otherwise regulationless nation).

To truly understand the waterfalls you must see Smamacita's photos (both of my cameras are malfunctioning. I know, I don't want to talk about it). The falls were spectacular, they look like what Splash Mountain seemed to be when you were 5 at Disneyland. On the way back we stopped for a presentation about the Malekus, one of the 2 remaining indigenous tribes of Costa Rica. The only thing I remember is that as a greeting they knock on each other shoulders as if knocking on a door and say Kapi Kapi.

As I write this and my eyes grow heavy, I realize so, too, must yours. So I am cutting this post at La Fortuna, and you shall have to wait for baited breath to see what excitement is yet to be told of Puerto Viejo de Talamanca...

Que Marriott mas bonito

I am now safely in the Marriott con Smother y Stan, I had forgotten life could be this wonderful. Robes in the rooms and chocolates on the pillow! This, no doubt, is la vida luja.

Party in the Rich Coast

Just a little something Tyler and I threw together between our busy schedule in Manuel Antonio...

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Ayer

Yesterday was the best day ever. Tyler and I bussed into Quepos (a little city muy cerca to Manuel Antonio. We needed to buy our bus tickets, but we figured while we were there we'd look around. We split an oreja (literally meaning ear, but in this case elephant ear, it's a breakfast pastry) and sat down outside to eat it. Directly across the street there was a phenomenon which we'd witnessed a few days earlier on our way to a mangrove tour. Normally I am too polite to mention these details but this happened TWICE, so I shall stoop to say that there was a woman doing something completely inappropriate for public life, more appropriate for bathrooms.

So after that we hopped the bus back to Maneul Antonio.

We've made a friend from Columbia named Vladymir, he was our surf teacher and is quite the fun guy. So we went and posted up outside of his surfshop at the beach. Besides, it's a lot safer to leave your belongs guarded while you play in the ocean, go figure. And play we did, we floated around for hours, Vlad came out and surfed for a while too.

So great day on the beach and then we came back and made guacamole (not traditionally a Tican food) and enjoyed our last epic sunset. Vlad had promised us a beach bonfire, but it rained once it got dark so everything was too mojado (wet).

And here's the best part of the whole day. We were playing poker with an Israli named Shajar when some crazy Kanucks walk by and ask if anyone knows how to play Euchre. Tyler and I JUMPED at the opportunity, but I fear we did not rep the USA very well, as we lost. Twice.

MANuel Antonio

Tyler and I are having the most wonderful time. Imagine uncrowded pristine beaches with soft sand and warm sun. That is where we are.

guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat!?!?!?

TYLER COMES TODAY.

Onward ho to Chirripó

I never thought I would wake up at 2:30 for any type of physical activity, but I did. And here's the sad part, it didn't work out. We woke up that early in order to summit for the sunrise, but unfortunately dense clouds and rain don't allow for sunrise viewing. Boom Boom Ugh!

My dear friend Nick "the Summit" Schwanz and I climbed Chirripó, the highest mountain in Costa Rica. It is 3,820 M, and for those of you who don't do metric, it's around 12,861 aprroximately. This was quite the elevation gain considering I was kicking it at the beach and doing a lot of nothing.

Here I am being the tallest thing in Costa Rica at about 5:12 am on the 16th.

A lot of great things happened on this hike: Nick and I climbed 16 k the first day to the base camp, 5 k to the summit at 3 am, didn't see the sunrise because it was frikken freazing, 5 k back to the Base Lodge, then the 16 k back down. We were so Into Thin Air...
Perhaps the funniest part of the whole trip is the amount of food that we packed-pasta, chocolate, peanut butter, cucumbers, bean paste, raisins, crackers, Tang, and a bunch of other essential stuff. As anyone knows when you hike Chirripó you must carry up all equipment (sleeping bags, tents, stoves) or you can wimp out and fork over $25 for a porter to run your goods up the mountain. Being what we are, conscientious and cost-effective, we carried out own gear. Besides, we paid $25 for the WHOLE experience (park entrance and lodge fee) while some schmucks are shelling out around $500 for 2 days on the mountain. Although, I will admit, I suffered devestating jealousy upon seeing their pasta dinners with wine.

Here is Nick on the trail, it should be obvious that he is a great hiker and a wealth of pop culture knowledge.

Chirripó was an experience, a really great time. We even made new friends. The hostel we stayed at, The Mariposa, is run by the most wonderful couple from Arizona. Al principio (At the start), we were dismayed by it's close location to the trailhead as it meant that we had to walk up 3 k in the pouring rain the night before our hike. But upon return, which really is harder on the cuerpo (body), we could not have asked for a closer place to come back to. And we also made hiking budies, Brian and Jason, from Minnesota and Colorado respectively. They were our roomies at the lodge and gave us a ride into San Isidro today, truthfully lifesavers.

Possible tragedy has stuck as I may have left my very favorite waterbottle on the bus, tomorrow when I have more energy to keep my eyes open (I am still exhausted) I will conclude on whether the silver bullet is indeed lost to public transit.

San Luis

Today I hiked to the San Luis waterfall, a much bigger feat than I anticipated. I had wanted to go to Monte Verde National Park but the dingdang bus only runs at 7:30am and 2:30pm. I took off from my hostel, which is located across the street from Mundo de Insectos (Insect World- I do not plan to go, it´s apparently outdated and overpriced)

But here´s what I really need to tell you, my guide, Charley, came highly recommended from Lonely Planet. He´s born and raised here, has studied lots of snakes and plants, and is just a friendly guy. So we started walking to the San Luis waterfall, a hike that required no bus. The hike was great, crossing rivers and no joke, he made me hug a tree. Charley was constantly pulling fruit out of the trees, I must´ve eaten 4 oranges. So yadda yadda, we´re hiking and the waterfall is beautiful:

We get there, and it´s super hot and we´ve been walking for hours. Charley even more so, because he went out walking for a few hours before we embarked on our adventure. And the water here is so crisp and refreshing, not like in Tamarindo. Tama, as with most Tican water is like bathwater, a comfortable temperature that does little to relieve the itch of my millions of insect bites. But Monte Verde (Green Mountain if you didn´t know) is mountain water, so it feels great. Charley announces he´s going to swim, which seems like a great idea to me. I turn and photograph some crazy roots and when I look back Charley has stripped down to his socks and his traje de baño (bathing suit)

I guess I should really just call it a bikini, as it was obviously women´s swimwear. I hiked really fast on the way out.

Adios Tama...

I am now in Monteverde, a great little town flanked by two national parks. It is a prime hiking lugar and I am hitting the trails bright and early tomorrow (7:30 bus... yikes!) I am relieved to get out of Tamarindo in that they had no Tican food, only pizza. And they also had an overabundance of mosquitos. I have been trying various remedies, rubbing onions on the bites, letting toothpaste dry on them, eating raw, yes RAW garlic; basically looking a fool to any local who sees me fret over my small pox (I look infected I have so many little bites.) Now I have returned to a land of mountains, cooler breezes and gallo pinto.

Also, random story, when I was in La Cruz I ate breakfast in this woman´s kitchen, it´s a long story. Her name is Candy and she´s EXTREMELY religious. She will randomly shoot off praising God and it kept confusing me. She prayed over me, it was a little awkward, and she asked God to forgive and protect the sinners, the prostitutes and me. And in true church lady fashion she asked if I was traveling alone. When I said yes she wagged a ´gotcha´finger at me and goes ¨You´re never alone! God is always with you!¨

Who´s the goose?

Liberi-UGH

I recommend Liberia to precisely none of you. On my travels I arrived late enough in Liberia that I planned to spend the night there. I stayed at Hotel Guanacaste, and as I entered my room for the first time I felt I was Tom Hanks in Big (I know you all get that reference because I'm not friends with people who haven't seen Big)

In my desperation, I sought comfort from the white-devil himself: McDonalds. Luckily my wonder drug (diet coke) was in full supply. A few more words on the Costa Rican Mickey D's, it's actually must nicer than in the States. All of the furniture had a modern feel to it, the food was not as greasy or as salty and the bathrooms were immaculate. This is especially notable because almost all public restrooms might as well be squat-toilets. They are always exceedingly filthy, without toilet seats, and 9 out of 10 times don't have soap. This does not bother the Ticans but I now carry hand sanitizer.

Back to the gilded land of the Golden Arches, they serve a McPinto for breakfast. Should I breakdown at another point in my trip and need my Western comfort, I plan on trying to corporate version of Costa Rica's national dish. Another Tican Twist, they have a pump of mayonaise right next to the *Fancy* Ketchup dispenser. (The dispense is not fancy but any true American should know that the packets of ketchup at McDonalds all claim to be fancy) Mayonaise is a staple here, in fact last night I went to Mexican with a mini-UN group (I am meaning to say we were all from different countries) and we were all perplexed by the zigzag of mayonaise running down our burritos.

In that airconditioned wonderland I plotted my escape from Liberia, which did not go without a hitch. I went to the bank to withdraw money and as my card was in the ATM the power went out. When the machine rebooted there was no sign of my card. I freaked a little, because my bus was due to leave in less than an hour for Tamarindo (I'm here not, so wonderful) I had to go inside and dig deep into my Spanish vocab because no one seemed to understand that my card was currently INSIDE of the machine. After an eternity in the waiting section (banks all have a grouping of chairs that the line waits in, it's a nice thought, no standing; there is also an express line for handicapped people, no sticker required!) they gave me my card back and I scurried off with no cash in hand, I was not risking their awful banking again.

Now I am in Tamarindo, arguably the most tourist place in Costa Rica. Beautiful beach, lots of funky restaurants and the locals get peeved when you speak Spanish, mostly because the majority of locals are not from Costa Rica. Due to the tourism there is a lot of theft, I witnessed it yesterday when some guy jumped my friend Nati and ran off with here camera. Not really a violent crime, just a grab and run. But due to this I am not bringing out my favorite camera, we all know how devestated I would be if I lost it.

Ooooooooo

Soo I want to obloog but if yoou can´t tell the o is acting really weird soo I shall write when I have a better keyboooard.

I am in La Cruz, the beach is awesoome but deserted because the waves are soo small. Toomoorrow I goo tooo Tamarindoo!

Ooo

Halloween and Hitting the Road

Halloween was the oddest night. We started off with a big birthday dinner for Juli, everyone in costume. I will put up pictures when I have internet capable of uploading, yes, this is because I am not living hostel to hostel. I share my views on the hostels on the booking website so I won't bore you with those here. Lucre and Hector surprised Juli with mariachis, not a tradition here in Costa Rica in case you were wondering. Any one who has ever had Profe Centeno should know Mananitas, and this includes me, so I was able to sing along to the Mexican birthday song to everyone's delight.

Then we went to this reggae dancehall, not really my scene. They played reggae music until the main act- an all male dancing crew came out to perform. It was like an NSync concert but there was no singing. We literally just hungout there until 3 in the morning. This was not your usual Ghostbusters/Thriller dance party. In fact, most Ticans were not in costume as Halloween is a recent import. There were pretty much no decorations and the locals (mostly guys) were way too embarassed to dress up.

Now I am about to catch a bus to Liberia which will land me at Rincon de la Vieja national park, there's a volcano! I am going to do some hikes and maybe hang out in a mud pool. This past night I stayed at a little hostel owned by 2 young (like early 20's) kids from Chicago. It's quaint, they're always burning incense and I think it's to mask the smell of the city more than anything. But I said I wasn't going to bore you with hostel details so I'll stop. BUT, I do have just one quick anecdote to tell:

There's this random kid from Toronto named Rawlins and I don't really know how to describe him. He's constantly trying to be deep and profound but it just never really comes across coherently. Last night we were changing up music on the channels and I put on the movie soundtrack channel, it was Ray Charles singing Georgia. Rawlins earnestly looks at me and goes, "Do you think he's singing about the state or the country?" And while I know most of Ray's biggest hits center on countries in Eurasia, I had a hard time fighting back a smile.

INTRUDER

I was innocently in my room watching an episode of South Park (the lastest one with the whales and the Japanese- very weak, I hated it) when I was suddenly dive-bombed by my own kamikaze. I swatted it out of the air and onto the bed. I was surprised to find a decently sized mantis praying back at me. If it had stayed in place for 5 seconds more I think I would have the most epic picture of us, I was going to prepare to spar with it. I think it would've been my most momentous self-timed picture ever.


The dream has not died yet, because the bug (biche in Spanish) has not died... yet. I am allowing it to sit on my wall but this shall not serve for the night. Can you imagine that thing prodding my nostrils with it's little arms. No, that mantis shall exit my room, even if it means feet first. I want to respect life, but this jerk made the first move.

Pacuare

Yesterday we went rafting and could you guess, it was awesome. Our guide was Dani and Juli's cousin, Yulian, in total guide mode, he said "Graciassss" after every command. All of the commands were in Spanish, and in the midst of the bigger rapids I had a bad tendency of confusing right/left . The rapids were mainly class 3 with some class 4 mixed in, a wonderful float. Midtrip we got this huge spread of food, most notably for me guacamole. (Aguacate/Avocados- are not that popular down here, much to my dismay.) We stopped at a big waterfall and swam around, floated a canyon, the usual fun. No sign of snakes or crocs, which I didn't mind.

Carnival Cannibal Knievel

I feel I should blog about a birthday party that took place at Turrialtico this past weekend but I fear it should make for boring banter. I'll write about it anyways:

It was some mae's (I know that you all remember mae is slang for guy or dude) 50th birthday and the theme was Calypso. Calypso is island music, like reggae but with more electric keyboards involved. An unplugged UB47 if you will...
Disclaimer: I was using my point and shoot, the quality and fuction of which is beginning to perturb me.

Out of nowhere this bus pulls up to the hotel full of teenagers, obviously not party guests. They begin to unload music equipment which I found ridiculous because we already had Raices jamming hard. But it turns out that this band of young hooligans was actually a Carnival (as in the festival) group.

I must say, the dancing didn't do much for me. Carnival dancers more or less like their seizing on the dancefloor- twitching and shaking, not really in time with the music. But I will say, their style of dress had my heart big time. Neon rainbow sports bras and glittering sequin skirts; these people were mi gente (my people)



(cultural reference to the Mi Gente clothing store that used to be at Citadel Crossing, what's up C-Springz?)



Another gold star for the Carnival group, when they danced the limbo (to my dismay they have their own limbo song, I was hoping for the Limbo Rock) I liked it much more than in the States. My whole life the limbo has been a calculating competition, an awkward line waiting to attempt walking under a stick. And I'm not good at it. But with the Carnival group everyone just danced around and the dancers helped each other limbo. Hector (drunk on wine) even left his chef post to join in the fun.



People Helping People: The True Limbo Spirit












Halloween is coming up, I am delighted with Juli and Dani's enthusiasm at costumes, they are going to be a lady bug and fallen angel respectively. I am still unknown, unfortunately I've chosen this year to be apathetic and I'm not sure why I am being such a Halloweenie. I will most likely dedicate a blog to the Holiday and exciting costumes from a few borders south.

Abeja GRANDE

I wish I had put something in this picture to quantify the size of this bee. Its body is slightly smaller than my thumb. Unfortunately I didn't have my good camera to take a better picture. But this should also show you that from a safe distance I was able to get a picture of this quality, it's not as close up as it seems. The bugs here, ay ya ya, they are HUGE.

Also related, today I found Juli with honey on her face. ALL over her face, it's apparently a skin treatment. It looked like she was sweating orange juice. Not quite a gatorade commercial orange though.

Olé Olé

There's a new guest at the hotel, Austin from Southern California. An ex-soldier looking to do some serious kayaking all throughout Turrialba. Also looking to buy drinks for the whole bar at Olé Olé.

Dani and Juli found him to be super guapo so we invited him to come out with us. Their cousin Julian is his guide, too, so I suppose part of his guided experience could be to the blocked off alley that is Olé Olé.

Having just gotten over my Tican Flu (source still unknown, me thinks foul meat) I chose to sip on a coke. The bar lends me no favors by pouring it in a cup. They hand me a conspicuous glass bottle, obviously labeled. The label more or less labeled me as una aguafiesta- a partypooper. And, by this picture, can you tell how many other people are sipping on cokes?

Austin bought everyone drinks all night, which is really a shame because none of us were really drinking. I was on the health-rebound, Juli was driving and Dani was busy blowing off some vampiro (a mooch, he's always bumming beers and cigarettes- that's actually him and Dani is the above picture.) I should mention now that everyone smokes and I am seen as very rara (odd) because I don't.

Whenever we go to the Olé Olé I somehow attract a steady stream of Tican suitors. They always ask if I have a boyfriend and usually look pleased when I say no. I usually follow this with an 'and I'm not looking for one' statement. Last night a raft guide named Randy assured me this was a perfect match for him because he already has an ex-wife and a 4 year old, so he's not looking for a relationship either. Awesome!

Rebound!

Feeling better, pounding fluids, trying to scrounge a Halloween costume. Special thanks to Smother and Smarlynn for the advice, it is paying off.

I be illin'

Illness has struck, I feel awful, I fear the Swine Flu.

Updates to come when I feel mejor.

PS- Ukraine has got talent!

Someone alert the Hoff, this is awesome

These are a a few of my favorite things...

Because nothing notable has happened in these past few days (except that I finally heard Loba- the Spanish version of Shakira's She Wolf playing on my walk today) I shall mention a few notes about how my favorite things translate into Tican culture.

1. Sandwiches- Those of you who know me best know that I love few things more than a good sandwich. Obviously Zanottos tops the list, but there's no denying Subway's $5 footlong- that's a deal. Sandwiches are not as prevalent here, and when they are it's more like a chicken sandwich, cold cuts are not de moda (in style). Funny thing, sub sandwiches are called Sándwich Lápiz- pencil sandwich because of their length. There are Subways in San José, I plan to try one.
   
2. Chewing gum, chiclé. I love gum, pink gum, and I usually chew 2 pieces at a time because I like to blow big bubbles. But here's the thing, the pink gum down here isn't even pink! It's powdery white with a odd twist to the flavor. And what's more, one piece quickly to reduces to about the size of a pea.
3. Harry Potter, Harry Potter as the Ticans say. Everyone loves it here, we bond over discussing the Deathly Hallows, Las Reliquias de la Muerte. A good spanish blog about Potter is called Blogwarts.
   
   

Mother's Favorite Word

"Perezoso"- adj. Lazy

... or so I thought. It turns out a better translation is sloth, as in one of the Seven Deadlies. Because, Perezoso also means sloth (those goofy 3 toed animals that are always smiling) in Spanish.

I was out walking today when I ran into Freddy, a friendly guy I'd met at the big family reunion. He's a guide in the area, and as with more guides than other locals, he says Pura Vida all of the time. He was doing yard work for his mom but ditched it (pun intended) when he saw me walking by. And thus, we began our hunt for the sloth.

Here is Freddy with Labios de Amor

-the lips of love, one of the millions of flowers that grow here year round. He promised to help me find a sloth, while at the same time discussing all of the tours he can take me on- a real salesman, this Freddy. It was cool though, we gathered some macadamia that hadn't been eaten by the ardillas (squirrels) and chewed some raw sugar straight from the cane "para caminar más"- I think he meant for more energy, though I'm not sure. Por fin, we found a perezoso, a bit anticlimactic. They don't do anything, even when Freddy beat the tree trunk and whistled, it just sat there. Boring, those perezosos.

Quick everybody look, it's doing nothing!

MUST HEAD TO NORTHERN COSTA RICA!

Breaking news: Vegetarian spider found!
Not so breaking news: I am an arachnophobe.
Interesting news: It is supposedly named for Rudyard Kipling, which would be cool if only he hadn't been dumb enough to write The White Man's Burden.

Important Amendments

I was refilling my waterbottle when I realized how lame my last post was, its just that I wrote it while trying to also listen to the NPR Pop Culture podcast- it had this interview with Jane Lynch- love her. Followed by a sub-par Ashley Judd interview at Harvard about how brilliant she is-yawn, don't listen to it. But the point is, I couldn't concentrate because I was absorbing popular culture.

(Jane Lynch)

But I'm here now and ready to write.

1) Jan. Jan is a "gringa viejita"- little old white woman. And I have no idea how she is part of this sewing class, and neither do Dani or Lucre, and it seemed almost as if she herself didn't know. She can't really speak Spanish, and she just sat there eating brownies. The way Dani explained it (translated por mi) "I don't talk to her, because if I do, she responds in English. And she can't really understand Spanish." So really, there's just this woman completely reminiscent of Happy Gilmore's grandma sitting amount the housewives of Turrialba.



2) These women are sitting there, joking and having a great time, sipping coffee and tea and I was wondering if they even sewed. Or if "sewing class" was just a cover for them to hangout. Then I went to the bathroom. Everything was sewed to match, and I regret not being able to take a picture to show you. The toilet cover, the wall hanging, random pillows sitting on the back of the toilet. Yeah, pillows on the toilet! So this was no joke, the house of a woman who can sew.

Sew What?

This afternoon Dani invited me to come to her "clase de coser"- sewing class. I mean, I'm not Martha Stewart but I thought it'd be nice to get out and maybe learn a new skill. So Lucre picks us up and we roll out to a suburban house. I walk in and I keep thinking "Where is this class?"

As it turns out, it's more of a sewing club, and by sewing club, I mean an afternoon women's hangout. There was delicious baked goods, TV show gossip and of course, discussing who has the craziest mother. Today's mom-talk was about how our mothers made us make our beds, ask my Smother how successful that training was...

¡Bomba!

I have a great new tradition to share, it's super Guanacastan. It's called "Bomba" and it only happens during traditional Costa Rican music. I witnessed this phenomenon yesterday at the huge García Family Reunion, even bigger than the one the night before. Family members would grab the mic from the DJ and yell ¡Bomba! and then say something funny- either improved or rehearsed.

This tradition started when at big Tican parties there would be a smoke bomb (hence Bomba) and someone would come over the mic pretending to be the omnipotent voice of God. This has evolved into people saying funny, amorous or mean quips in the middle of songs.

I have embraced this and have begun saying Bomba before almost everything I say. I don't think they find it as funny as I do, so this practice is soon to drop off, until I get home that is!

Bailamosssssss

Yesterday there was a big García family reunion, I did not know this was happening so it struck me like a pleasant surprise. There are a million cousins and the gathering reminded me of some other family I know...

Afterwards I went to the bars with Dani, Juli, and their infinite cousins. We started off at Olé Olé, a bar with a blocked off street outside that you could stand on. Also, here's a quick fact, there are no open container laws in Costa Rica. But if you try to leave with a glass bottle they make you pour it into a plastic cup. As with most of Latin America they keep all bottles and send them back to the factory- totally recycling, lo cual me gusta.

We ultimately made it to a disco (do NOT say discoteca, nobody says that, and apparently a teca is also a tree.) The floor was white with a big black square which designated the dance floor. It was like lava tag, not a single person would go on the black, they just kind of stood around it and semi-danced, stopping to make sure they didn't look stupid.

But then the craziest thing happened. The DJ played 15 minutes of Salsa music. At first everyone rolled their eyes, but more and more people began to pair up and dance. It was nuts, they were getting all fancy (and somewhat bravisimo). Everyone knew how to salsa, like they learned that in gym class instead of the lame linedancing we learned in 3rd grade.

And here is the craziest of crazies, after the salsa stopped, so did the dancing. And black became lava otra vez.

TaMolly Thoughts

Today is another great day. I awoke and was quickly showed by the maid (A wonderful woman, like a small Tican Alice) that she had made tamales and gallo pinto for breakfast. Dani was sick last night so we were not going to the hotel.

Now I must admit, I was sceptical of the tamale. It was wrapped in a huge banana leaf and I wasn't even sure of what was cook inside. But let me tell you, it was awesome, albeit different. There was carrot, garbanzo beans, peppers, rice and I think pork.

I was moved to remember the time Mary Etta told me about how her French nanny, Anne Marie, had made quiche with any and all leftover foods. As I dug dipper and found perhaps a pea? a lentil? I began thinking that these tamales could be the Costa Rican version of just that.

I went for a 2 hour hike, came back drenched in humid sweat and considered these things further as I ate another for lunch.

Unas Fotos

This is the view from the restaurant where I eat three delicious meals a day.
This is the family living room, this house is so awesome. It sits on a mountain overlooking Turrialba.
View from the deck. At the bottom is the "Futuro Lago"- a project Hector has started, all that he needs now is water, or better yet, a way to keep the water in the lake because it rains almost every day.
This is Dani's room where I get to stay. It is so wonderful, and just for those disbelievers, yes I make the bed every day.

Most importantly: First bug-bite appeared by my knee today. If it turns necrotic I am going to freak.

The Suite Life of Molly D

Every meal I eat is ordered off of a menu and prepared especially for me. Seriously, this is the best and most dangerous thing. Smom, hope you're ready to take my orders when I get home, because I've embraced this new way of life with fervor.

Spanish phrase of the day: Eclipse Total de Amor- no one really says it but I heard it this morning while enjoying my gallo pinto. Click the link, you won't be disappointed.

Latest greatest: Tonight I ate a tuna steak, with curry and red wine. It was phenomenal, or as the Ticans say, muy rico. Very fresh, and very under cooked, but they say it's kosher as long as the fish is semi-fresh. I've eaten and drank whatever I wanted, no problems with the good ol' g.i. track, this stomach is cast iron!

In other news, Sir Schwanz and I are going to climb Chirripó- the highest point in all of Costa Rica! Dani and I start training on Saturday. The climb is on the 12th of Noviemre, I have horrible images, maybe because I just read Into Thin Air...

Llueve Nueve

It's raining! It's raining hard. But you know what, I'm on top of a mountain surrounded by foggy rain, it's totally like Jurassic Park. Dani's at cooking classes (her first day, buena suerte) and I've been doing desk work all day. Seriously, there's even smooth jazz. I am going to start learning to cook in the kitchen because I told Hector, el patron del familia, that I don't know how to cook. So he offered lessons, I'm going to come home cocinando a Tican storm.

Perhaps my favorite food is Gallo Pinto- named after the speckled chickens we all love (shout out to Linda T.) But really it's rice and beans and it's delicious.

Word of the day: Plata- (plaa-ta) meaning literally silver, used instead of dinero here.

Obligatory Long Post

I told myself I didn't want to be one of those people. You know the ones who write posts so long that no one expect their Smother (woot, woot to my very own) actually reads the whole thing. But my plan of treating this as a Twitter Blog were thwarted by my lack of internet and few day layover in San Jose.

The flight was without a hitch, I devoured Into Thin Air, sat next to nice quiet people, and the moment I exited the airport there was Dani, Juli, and Maria. We spent the night at Juli's, she's 23 and goes to school in San Jose studying graphic design, she totally reminds me of Cousin Kadi K. Dani is the other daughter, she's great as well and my working companion at the hotel. She has also relinquished her room for me, an act of Sainthood as you should see this dream home I get to live in.

Before leaving San Jose, we hit up Roots, Juli's favorite Reggae club. They all love reggae (puro carribe en sus corazones) and they love the Rasta men. The walls were covered in Bob Marley and the signature shot is red, yellow and green- it's called Shooting the Roots. We also went to a museum on this day, but who wants to hear about that?

Today Dani and I caught a bus to Turrialba, a 2 hour charter bus that I chose to sleep 1 1/2 hours of. You might scoff, thinking I should've stayed awake to see the picturesque mountains and quaint villages, but upon seeing my fellow travelers motion sickness I maintain sleep was the right choice.

So now I am in Turrialba- etimology Torre Alba, white tower derived from the white tower of smoke coming from Volcan Turrialba! Yes, you read correctly, I am residing close to a volcano.

The Garcias have 13 dogs, 5 of which are chihuahuas (did I spell that right?) They also have 2 horses, 2 turtles (both female, I was interested in them have tortugitas) and a parakeet. Their house overlooks the volcano and the city and I will put up pictures soon that can better articulate how unworthy I am to live there.

Hold up, there is a drawback, a major drawback. The spiders here are huge. I have never seen them so big, I feel I am in freaking Jumanji!

Biggest news of the day: Tyler is officially coming in November. We are heading to Manuel Antonio. All are welcome to join, if you think you can hang with the Cacahuates Terribles.

¿Que honda MAE?

Here I am, safe and sergura in San Jose. Dani and Juliana, the two daughters of the Garcia family picked me up fro the airport.

The word of the day is this:

Mae, slang meaning most losely "Dude"

So please, be careful when greeting Mae West in Spanish...

Wise words from The Queen

"It's impossible to grow to your full potential without testing the limits of the boundaries we set within our comfort zones."

Thank-you Diane