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...