Livin' like a local

SUITCASE DIARIES: week 2 Costa Rica

Day 8 - Tues March 25 - I'm so proud of myself. Yesterday, inspired by Florencia's example, I arranged, with my broken Spanish, our ride to Tamarindo with Michael via a connection he has down at the beach. Much cheaper than the shuttle van service from the Villa and, by taking a short, direct route, he got us there in just over 1 hour. In Tamarindo Michael arranged a trip to the airport for Sunday with a "legit" taxi driver. He cautioned us that a "taxi" sign on a car's roof doesn't mean the driver is legit, insured or even a licensed driver. Michael took us right to the inner courtyard of Domus Kahuna. Great service!

We enjoyed a siesta in our one bedroom apartment which we've been given for the duration of our stay.  There's a bedroom with AC, a balcony with a hammock that I've claimed as "mine", and a stove top ( which I never use during our stay :-). We've been upgraded from our bachelor suite due to scheduling complications. Originally we were going to be moved on Friday to a bachelor but I think Paulo took pity on the poor suffering gringo geezers. Either that or he wanted to keep us from infecting others - though we weren't infectious, we sure sounded like it; coughing and hacking.

I lay in the hammock, severely hearing compromised, hacking my lungs out. Separated from the cocoon that Flo and Jack provided us, a deep sense of vulnerability washes through me. I've never experienced illness in another country where I don't speak the language well, hear even worse and don't know what to do. Despite the application of my many healing techniques, things are not getting anywhere near better. I have to do something… I will have to see a medico soon. 

During our dinner at an outdoor patio a fine spray wafts into the dining area. Water for the plants? Nope, don't think so but I could be wrong. I gobble down my dish - yam stuffed with fish and a cerveza and then we walk on the beach and witness the sun setting so fast that steam should be coming off the water as it sinks into the sea.

Day 9 - Wed March 26 - We went to the very thorough, medico today. Diagnosis: throat and inner ear infection. I leave loaded down with drugs that I'd normally never take. But, here I say, "Never say never. Bring on the antibiotics, antihistamine, AND throw in that expectorant too. Let's blast this baby outta here". Best news since I got here is, since my equilibrium is good, my ears and lungs are clear I can go swimming, yea!

Our daily ritual has become: afternoon siesta and the ingestion of a pineapple, mango, banana, yogurt and fruit juice smoothy to soothe my raw throat ("Our" awesome blender is a godsend!) followed with a  beach walk around 3p.m., sunset worship and dinner out. Tonight we share a tasty grilled Mahi Mahi, veg and rice dinner. On our return "home" the delicious aqua blue waters of the little pool beckon me. Swimming underwater provides the only relief for my throbbing ears. I float under a starry sky peeking through the banana trees, thankful for this bliss!

Day 10 - Thurs March 27 - A light breeze provided us with a welcome cool night after some brutally hot days so I decided to sleep outside last night in the hammock under the stars. Crazy, throbbing drum rhythms and the shouts of ramped up revellers fill the night air from 10p.m. til 3a.m. finally driving me inside.

I arise early this morning and walk the beach, deserted (no wonder, I think all of Tamarindo was at that party) except for one lone yoga practitioner. When I feel better I'll follow her example. (This doesn't happen til my last morning here.)

Spinning their boards around in the waves, riding in while holding headstand, ducking through the pipe - the kids make surfing look like a piece of cake. I'm taking notes from a rare shady spot under a tree, psyching myself up for my own foray into the mix. Paolo has a connection with a surf shop and can rent me a board for $10 for the day. I won't have to go down with my ID and can pay by cash by giving his name, yea! He says the tides and times are promising for tomorrow. I've gotta give it a go…and if I really like it I'll go again on Saturday.

Tonight we eat at a food court at the base of our street. Fish burger with fries and a coke for Rod and guac with salsa and a cerveza for me - cheap and delicious. Rod's ear became plugged on our way from the beach; we are now "speaking" to each other in a form of sign language. I get a mocha to go from Diego's stall and vow to return tomorrow for french toast to change up the daily routine, though appreciated, menu of gallo con pinto, huevos revueltos y pan tostado offered at Domus.

Anyway…the adventure continues and we're starting to get into our groove here. Livin' like the locals takes a lot of effort when you're not feeling well. It's a learning curve…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Feeling like S***, I do…

SUITCASE DIARIES: Costa Rica - week 1

I came down with a cold a few days before we left on our trip. Laryngitis set in. Maybe it's clearing out, yeah! Nope, it was just getting started. DAMN!

DAY ONE in Costa Rica - Mon Feb 17 - Not actually in Costa Rica; spent in transit. We arrived last night, getting in to Jack and Flo's at Villas Sol (See the villas on the hillside, we were in one of them.) Playa Hermosa, Guanacaste province in Costa Rica about 10 p.m.

Flight was brutal as I was hacking and coughing. I was the person everyone dreads to be on the same flight with, let alone sit next to. The pressure on my ears got worse with each flight - Victoria to Vancouver, Vancouver to Houston, Houston to Liberia. In an effort to clear my plugged ears I blew my nose so hard that it bled like a burst pipe. Poor woman sitting beside me on the last leg must have felt like she was cursed. So I arrived coughing, with laryngitis, pretty much deaf from plugged ears; holding a tissue under my nose with one hand, the fingers of my other hand pinching the bridge of my nose and juggling my bags.

I really hope this thing clears soon (It didn't. It lasted the whole trip and my ear is still plugged as I write this.) as my energy is low even for talking - English let alone Spanish.

NOTE: I end up being sick for the whole 2 weeks of our trip.
I'm grateful for the wisdom of David K Reynolds' CONSTRUCTIVE LIVING that I'd discovered in the '80's and utilized since then.
Paraphrasing one of his principles - "Feeling like S*** (my word), I do what needs to be done".
In this case what needs to be done is to get out there and take advantage of this opportunity to live the Pura Vida even though I feel like I'd rather stay in bed all day and be tended to by my kitty therapists. Disappointed in myself that I don't have my usual enthusiasm and energy; it is a reality I have to accept. I adopt this attitude - Just get out there and appreciate what happens and I was showered with simple delights.
(NOTE - The lack of photos is due to my lack of energy to take them - apologies.)

DAY 2 - Tues Feb 18 - I slept in today and we lounged around the beach, walked the beach and collected some garbage (numerous plastic straws, plastic utensils, plastic bottles, bottle caps and plastic bags) and swam. Boy, the sun is soooo bright! Good thing I've got my sunglasses. My Vancouver Island adapted eyes can't handle the brilliance of it. (Lesson #1 - The brightness of the light should have been a clue. The sun in Costa Rica is brutally strong. In a place this far south, never say no to sunscreen no matter how much you hate it or you, like me, will be bursting blisters for days, wake up to puffy face and peel like a snake for the duration of your stay. My legs are still peeling as I write this.)

DAY 3 - Wed Feb 19 - I was able to get a good night's sleep for the first time in days. Takes a lot of energy to talk and so I'm not too social. Haven't been snorkeling but I swam in the ocean and the pool, putting my head under the water. "F*** it" I said. I discover that swimming underwater seems to equalize the pressure in my ear providing me with some temporary relief. Once again on dry land, I can't seem to clear my ear and it's driving me nuts. I think it's the congestion from my sinuses + ear wax that must have gotten lodged. I'm trying everything I know but may have to get it syringed out. (Wrong self-diagnosis. Unbeknown to me, I will later find out from the médico in Tamarindo that I have a throat and inner ear infection.)

We went zip lining. The guys taking us through the stations were a lot of fun. When asked if I was scared I said, "No. I'd like to do some tricks: wonder woman, upside down…" these were some of the ones Flo had told me about. He called me "una mujer loca" as he took me through the paces. We had a blast. The pressure in my head was pretty excruciating when I went upside down but well worth the ride.

Una mujer loca aka a flying squirrel.

 We walked into town tonight with Flo and Jack and met some friends at The Embassy a quirky cinema in Playa Hermosa and saw THE WOLF OF WALLSTREET with Spanish subtitles (I read the movie as much as I watched it - Spanish lesson + entertainment all at the same time!).
I love local independent movie houses and this was a real treat. For $6 you get the movie, a glass of wine or a cerveza (beer); for $1 extra get a popcorn too. We enjoy both seated on primary coloured retro plastic bar stools at the multicoloured, poured resin bar til the movie is ready to begin. We saunter into the theatre, plonk down into comfy seats and they start right into the movie. No trailers, no ads; awesome!

DAY 4 - Thurs Feb 20 - We started to watch the Women's gold medal Olympic hockey game on TV at Flo and Jack's but thought it would be fun to see it at a public venue with others. Got down to Villas Sol restaurant/bar and resumed watching it on the TV there. Before 20 mins were done the coverage got switched to…skiing, skating and now…golf?!? GOLF…WTF?!? Wandered over to Condo Vac in hopes of finding it there but nope. The coverage is the shits. Don't they know this is THE EVENT for  Canadians everywhere?
I write to an American born Canadian friend, "We found out that we lost, boo. The American part of you may not be so sad about this; it's win win whatever had happened for you, eh?"
A day later we find out that we'd in fact won in an incredible overturn of events which must have been crazy exciting to see. This discovery makes it seem even more unjust for the game to have been dropped, ack!!!

As I walk the beach later in the day the troop of howler monkeys, adults and tiny youths, which were earlier settled into the trees over the lounge chairs at Condo Vac (A surprisingly a number of unwary gringos had plonked down underneath them. I can only wonder who will be the first to be inadvertently peed on.) are travelling soundlessly, effortlessly through the trees to their evening resting place. One of the females has a tiny little babe clinging to her belly; the little tail curls over her back and tips to the sky giving it away. Brilliant! Only me and one other person witness their silent passage.

Tonight Flo, Jack, Rod and I meet at Aquasport Bar Restaurant on Playa Hermosa for night of entertainment - pop songs sung in Spanish by local duo one playing guitar, the other on drum box, while we sip cerveza con limón against the backdrop of the setting sun. Ah this is the Pura Vida.

DAY 5 - Fri Feb 21 - Kayaking with Flo and Jack - we explore the bay; witness a short, tremendous flurry of fish stirring up the water all around us; pick up some garbage floating in the water and explore a small beach in front of the future site of another development. The water is warm and inviting but I have to get back for my massage on the beach with Maria. Life is tough.

Maria begins by massaging my feet with a mix of sand and oil and for the next hour I am hers. Though not a trained RMT, her treatment is a "folk" art and she is skilled with great hands. I'm thrilled that we can talk in broken English and Spanish. She looks tired, has had the cold herself and works long hours. She needs some TLC so I offer her a lomi back treatment which she readily accepts. The table is high and there is sand everywhere but somehow I slip into a rhythm, enough for her to get a feel for the modality. She looks blissful as she declares, "It is very spiritual". Success! I smile. It's as good to give treatment as to receive and I have missed giving.

Guests of Flo and Jack's join us for one of Jack's fabulous dinners. We eat on the patio. A lively and stimulating conversation is had regarding the book WE THE ARCTURIANS a book I'd bought for Flo and took to Costa Rica for her. I'd only scanned through it but in an interesting bit of synchronicity: I'd forgotten to add this last night as I was writing and then this morning I get an e-mail from Amazon, a new recommendation…CONNECTING WITH THE ARCTURIANS.

With our host Flo after a day on the beach
and a massage by Maria

DAY 6 - Sat Feb 22 - Went on a boat trip with SEA OF LIFE PAPAGAYO - our host, Michael and his crew mate Armando show us their method of fishing and we catch lots of small groupers, red snappers and one eel. It's a small boat and we share this adventure with Betty and Chris, friends of Flo and Jack's.

I was awestruck as manta rays leap out of the water and land with an audible smack like pancakes. I snorkelled in a secluded spot amongst coral and rock formations, swimming amongst schools of brightly coloured, salt water fish. We are taken to a white sand beach and explore the caves.

The tide is coming in sending walls of waves crashing through one cave. I walk into progressively deeper depths, let myself get sucked out towards the cave's mouth and wait with excited anticipation for the next big wave to wash me back in. Like a kid, "just one more" I shout after each exhilarating ride.  Bonus, nature provides the best neti pot ever; afterwards an endless quantity of snot pours out of me. "I'm cured!"…well maybe not everything but my sinuses are for sure!

As we motor home in high spirits we dig into skewers of chicken, rice and veggies. This private boat trip is so much better than the many overcrowded "booze cruises" that are popular down here. Disembarking is rather dramatic as rogue waves arise from nowhere, crashing over the bow, tossing the small boat around and threatening to capsize us. Michael shouts, "Get out now!" when safe moments arise. We jump into chest high water and get clear as fast as we can. His boat is swamped but they manage to get into calmer waters, bail it out and returns when the waves have subsided with the gear that we had to abandon when we jumped ship. He checks to make sure we are all unharmed and then we say our goodbyes.

The night is capped off with a walk along the beach to a local pizza place for pizza and…of course, a cerveza con limón.

DAY 7 - Sun Feb 23 - We wake up to coverage of the men's Olympic gold medal hockey game and cheer as our team wins gold. The day is for lounging in the pool, on the beach and chill in' before we head out to Tamarindo tomorrow morning.

Down at the beach a representative from Villas Sol helps me contact Michael and arrange a ride with him to Tamarindo for the next morning - yet another service that he offers and for a much more reasonable price than the shuttles that come into the resort.

Coffee and baked sweets are offered daily from 4 - 5 p.m. at Villas Sol and we go down today, as we have many days this week. I've loved watching the cheeky, sneaky, hoodlum Magpie Jays fly off with whole muffins and buns, treats they've stolen from the bread baskets at the serving area. Another, wearing his trademark black necklace, bats his long eyelashes and tosses his feather tufted head back as he brazenly devours packets of sugar looking like an addict with his beak covered in the snowy stuff.

THE HIGHLIGHT was, of course, spending time with our Ontario-based, long-time friends Flo and Jack. Such great company: awesomely delicious food provided by chef Jack (I gladly, gratefully do the dishes and clean up afterwards - a small return for such a great favour.); morning Spanish lessons; spiritual and philosophical discussions on the patio and evening cribbage for the guys. On the mornings that I feel up for it, we do yoga on the patio which gives me an opportunity to give something from my heart in return for their kindness.

PURA VIDA!

I have recently returned from Costa Rica.

It is sunny and cold out today but the warmth of the weather, the place and the people of Costa Rica has penetrated into my very core, it radiates out of my cells and warms my skin; my spirit soars as I amble along the sidewalk, my unzipped jacket flapping in the wind while those around me withdraw into their parkas clutching their scarves tight against their throats to fend off the bitter cold.

Only a few days ago I was walking the beaches – playa Grande, playa Flamingo, playa Conchal, and playa Tamarindo; after a long, steep, picturesque descent to the waters edge playing in river chilled natural Jacuzzis, formed by collections of rocks at the base of a majestic waterfall and later that same day therapeutically soaking in volcano sourced heated hot springs.

I “swam with the fishes” (just as my husband predicted I would) or, to be more precise -snorkeled with them; re-enacting scenes from FINDING NEMO, engulfed by one multicoloured glistening school as I watched another group cruising beneath us on a path to some other destination, the Geiger counter-like tick, tick, tick of the coral rocks playing in my head all the while. A brilliant yellow, black stripped, slightly larger than a minnow, lone fish dances in front of my mask returning time and time again to peek at his playful reflection or swim alongside me. Even the sting of invisible jelly fish (literally – they are totally clear globs) though a really, really creepy experience during the minute or so that it takes for me to pass through them (my mind races - could some huge prehistoric eel be taunting me before I am fatally zapped) has a mystical quality here and my sense of awe numbs their sting.

I realize my life long dream of surfing and have caught the bug. Yes, really surfing, not standing on a board just to fall off, but riding a wave, feeling its swell beneath me propel me forward and carry me into shore as Glyn, Pam and Flo cheer me on and my instructor shouts incessantly, encouragingly “again Nan-sea, come, come my friend, again. Paddle slow, paddle quickly. O.K. Nan-sea, up NOW. Good, good. Again, come, come my friend.” - surfing boot camp at its best. And, to imagine I had to come all the way to Costa Rica to enter a surf shop festooned with a stuffed toy beaver, a Canadian flag and a Calgarian owner come this way via Australia.

And there’s Herson*, whom we have declared the mejor guia (the best guide) of all Guanacaste barreling along serpentine dirt roads in the dark of night maneuvering traffic as only a Tico can after a day full of venturing with us off the beaten path. Sometimes he speaks with us in Spanish to help us learn the language, other times the soundtrack of our youth streams out of his radio and we excitedly chatter about our lives, times, people and places we have known and later that night when we were all but asleep his soft voice blends with Costa Rican songs on late night radio.

What a joy it is to converse in my broken Spanish on a local bus on its way to Liberia with an indigenous Nicaraguan equally adept at English. Together we are teaching each other. He is a construction worker employed here legally for the last 7 years; the working papers he shows me testify to that fact. We have common ground – my husband works in construction too I exclaim. We talk of family, work and life. He seems as excited as I to be here and he points out places of interest to us.

I feel privileged to be one of a few gringas mingling amongst the local ticos - adults, families and school uniform clad children all gathering in town to celebrate what it is to be a Costa Rican in the Guanacaste region.

My friends and I dance with a local patron in a Zapateria (shoe shop). Doesn’t everyone dance in a shoe store? What great advertising we provide - “these shoes are so damn good they make your feet dance!”! Although I myself don’t buy any, I am too tired from all the exertion, the store takes on the festive atmosphere and as we leave the young man is still dancing in the isles inviting all who enter to come join him in this joyful expression of the vitality of life.

From a second story restaurant balcony, cervesa (beer) in hand we watch a parade of sabanerrelos (cowboys and cowgirls) riding proudly “dancing” horses as trucks of little brass and drum bands play in raucous, joyful celebration. The ease with which they ride is a tribute to the art of the equestrian and their way of life. Later this day there will be bull riding, bull fighting and more displays of horsemanship. Thought no physical harm will come to the small herd of bulls that are paraded down the street as they are taunted by the melee of boys and young men seemingly eager to display their bravery, my eyes - windows to the soul, have locked onto those of one of bulls. Suddenly I am transported. The music becomes a cacophony of sound; the crowds energy is taunting, threatening and challenging; momentarily a wave of confusion, claustrophobia and irritation washes over me and I must turn away from the scene to disengage. After a while the sensation passes, my festive mood returns and when join my friends on the terrace the bulls are out of sight.

How wonderful it is to witness Pam’s pure, child-like delight as she sees close up her much sought after perisoso (sloth) carrying her babe on her back at a wildlife reserve. To our delight blue Mono Butterflies flutter around us in one enclosure. And I am in awe of the healing power of nature as this once barren grazing land, reclaimed a mere 9 years ago is now thriving, filled with towering trees (the size of which would indicate close to a hundred years of life in Canadian forests) and lush undergrowth.

On a sunset boat tour El Capitan takes us to secluded beaches and a trip around 2 small outlaying islands. I will forever have the image of our “Bow rider” Glennie silhouetted in the setting sun, sitting astride the bow, hair blowing in the wind, snapping pics of flocks of pelicans perched in stands of trees high above us. Her initial concern for the lack of life jackets aboard the boat totally erased as she engages in this NOW moment.

And on a windswept morning I stand on the terrace overlooking the bay and the sea beyond at 5 a.m. to welcome the dawning day as I listen for the haunting sound of bands of howler monkeys declaring their presence and territory for all to hear. Is it a howling wind or this mono congos’ call? The dull lionesque growl at its end identifies the latter. Green full bodied parrots swoop and dip in clusters of threes past my head and the air is filled with bird songs beyond my description as flashes of colour – reds, oranges, and yellows flicker here and there only to disappear into the foliage and flowers surrounding me.

Life has called to me “Come, sing, dance, explore, play, swim; take it all in and become drunk with the beauty that abounds.” My wild, free soul resonates with its vibration. Ahh, PURA VIDA – PURE LIFE resonates in my heart!

*hersonsegura@gmail.com