Thanksgiving Costa Rica Style
You know they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here? It is just like any other Thursday, except hotter. Okay, we knew the holidays would be much different, that traditions would change, that our perception of what a holiday was would likely change, we were right. For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving has been major tradition at our house, old friends and family we only see once a year, basketball games, fried turkey, same old side dishes, new dishes, dozens of pies, naps, games and then Black Friday, Tracy’s favorite holiday. That is what we did, every year. No questions asked as you can see from these past posts. (Tradition GAS Holiday Roads )Well now, at least this year, it was quite different. This year we attended a big feast and gathering at our church. There was a lot of turkey,side dishes, desserts, some games and a lot of fellow-shipping. It was certainly fun, but it wasn’t tradition. It was new, it was hot and it didn’t feel like “Thanksgiving”. It felt more like a very fun church potluck. Plus, there were no pies, other than the single serving apple pies Tra made.
some traditions can never go away! Speedy Buns Rule!!!
If you could only smell the finished product, your keyboard would be drenched in drool.
do you see any pies on this dessert table?
Furthermore, as I stated before, Costa Rica obviously does not celebrate Thanksgiving, so it was just a normal day. No festivities, lots of people at the beach, surfing, swimming, shopping etc. etc. Just like every other day. It appears that they did have their version of Black Friday in San Jose, but it was limited to a few stores. Besides it’s not really Black Friday if you aren’t freezing to death waiting to get inside the store. And 50% off of “way to expensive” is not really that great of a deal. However, I took the time to teach our friend and guard how to say Happy Thanksgiving in English, and told him to tell every Americano he sees. Within an hour he was stuffed. After two days he told me “too much Happy Thanksgiving” signaling that he could not eat another bite, as he held up yet another meal on a paper plate. It may take some time, but I will soon teach him the ways of the over indulging Americanos.
Now this looks traditional. It was very yummy as well!
Dave Olsen keeping the kids happy. There are no fiestas in Costa Rica without a Pinata.
one view of BCC with over 100 guests. Note BCC Feud playing on the screen.
another view.
Kassie patiently waiting for food.
Mom and Alli waiting to eat.
Kids table playing the feud.
So we had fun, but it wasn’t the traditional frenzied weekend that we have become accustomed to loving. It was quite relaxing, maybe a little too Pura Vida for our American souls. Perhaps over time we will change our view of Thanksgiving and become accustomed to wearing t-shirts and shorts, and spending the evening watching the sunset on the beach, as we did this year. Perhaps that will be our new tradition. One thing for sure, no matter what, next time there must be pie.
Here are some shots of our Thanksgiving late afternoon and evening at Flamingo Beach.
Jeremy waiting on one last wave
Jake and KassieKassieFlamingo
Dad and Dorian having a Thanksgiving boogie board battle.
Jeremy and Dad battling it out
Kassie
Alli searching for jewelry prospects.
Flamingo Breaker
Ben working hard on Thanksgiving for a wave with all that extra turkey weight.
Ben
Dad swimming hard
Never spent Thanksgiving in the Pacific Ocean before.
A Turtle’s Pace Part II
After paying our fees, at an open air shack filled with 5 Ticos wearing some semblance of shirts with turtles on them, making them obvious official turtle guides, we embarked on the second half of our journey. $8 for non-residents, was the fee for our “guided” tour of the beach. There were about 15 students and 10 adults, a salty group ready to stretch their legs. After money changed hands, we were issued our official green passes, and then canvas bags, which we were informed were to be used to gather trash. Cool, we pay to work. So that’s how socialism works. As we began walking towards the beach, the rain clouds moved in. No worries, as long as the turtles were there it would all be worth it. They were not.
Some major log moving going onLet's not move this one, it's too comfy.
I knew this was the only turtle we would see on this day.
We walked and walked and walked. We saw signs of turtles, drag marks, egg pieces and even a big old dead turtle. But no baby turtles and certainly no big momma turtles. After trudging for what seemed like miles in the black gritty sand, our guide finally spoke and asked us to help clean up the driftwood so the turtles would have more nesting room. So not only did we have to pay to see nothing and pick up trash, we had a good 1/2 hour of hard labor. We had resigned to our fate that we had just paid $8 per person to clean up trash, move driftwood, walk in the rain, and do things we could do every day in Guanacaste for free. Perhaps we could find turtles on the other side of the beach. I was clearly not hopeful. For after conversing with several of the turtle attendees who had attended several turtle coming outs in the past, the best time to come was very early in the morning, or at night, not 9 am. As I walked back along the surf lane allowing my feet to be washed off by the ever beating surf, I noticed a small portion of our group gathering up the beach a little. I altered course . As I walked into the small circle I heard cameras clicking, oohs and aahs, and saw some pretty big smiles. There were several baby turtles emerging from beach!
We see turtles emerging from the eggs buried in the depth of the black sands.
It was amazing to watch, first about six turtles, then 15, 20, 40, 60, 64 at final count. It was like a clown car at a circus, they just kept coming and coming directly out of the black sand. Slowly moving, covered in dirt trying to find their way. A few knew right where to go, others wandered off to the left or the right, but eventually they all seemed to at least point to surf. Maybe not directly, but at least at an angle that would get them there. The journey ahead of them was long and arduous, for they were about the size of a silver dollar, and about 1/3 the weight. Every footprint, stick or pebble presented an obstacle. A few got flipped over, some got stuck, some had to alter course completely, but all were determined to make it to their destination. It was then that I realized we were the turtles. We had a long and arduous journey, we had to alter course, we had to climb up and down the footprints left by nature, but we were determined to make it to our destination. The only difference, the baby turtles got stronger with every flip of their flippers, and we got a little weaker with every pothole.
Finding their way.
guess what I have!
At least now the journey to the surf had been worth it. We had seen what very few had ever witnessed. The sheer determination and pure beauty of God’s creation. The instinctive drive to survive no matter how hard. Events like these always affirm my belief in a creator. It seems incredulous to me to believe something so perfect as the circle of life could ever happen by accident. If you ever take a quiet moment to think about the true miracle of life, both in humans and creatures, of flora and fauna, it seems impossible to me to come to any conclusion other than the conclusion that it is planned. All of it. Each and every morsel. And nothing will affirm my faith in that more than seeing it in action with my own two eyes.
For many more pictures, video, and commentary enjoy our following two minute documentary.
P.S. On the way in I related a story about a teenager leading us on a false shortcut. On the way home we let a teenager lead us to the best Pizza place in all of Costa Rica. “The road is a little sketchy” he warned, but that pizza is good. When a road is barely passable by bicycle, covered in spider webs, and drops down 100 feet a time; that my friends is not the sign of good pizza place. This trail made the previous trail look like the Autobahn. It was steep, tiny, overgrown, full of fissures, gorges and gashes, muddy, slick and deadly. In short, it was scary. However once we turned down, there was no turning back. What we wouldn’t do for great pizza. How was the pizza? We will never know, it was closed for the season. Needless to say, those of us driving were not too happy with our teenage connoisseur. If you want directions I will give them freely, however be aware because there may be a former Gold Coast teenager roaming the roads chanting, ” the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good, the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good!”
A Turtles Pace, Part I
“Can you drive us for a school field trip to see the turtles?” ” Sure, that would be great, we’ll make a family day of it”
That’s how it began, a simple conversation between father and child. In Costa Rica nothing is ever simple. You see the turtles have seasons here, there is a season when they lay their eggs, and a season when the eggs hatch. We were hoping to catch the season of hatching. The plan, a school caravan of 5 cars heading south to Ostional to watch turtles. The reality, the drive was the adventure.
Upon loading up at the school we embarked on our journey, our minivan full sans one seat. Remember this is not the Godfrey van of Alaska, the V8 4X4 with 20 inches of clearance. Nay, this is the 4 cylinder rear wheel drive Hyundai with 2 inches of clearance. Great for running loads of kids around town, not so great for jungle treks.
Typical sight as we begin our journey
another typical sight
this one not so typical, but cute.
We knew we had to pass through Avellenas, which is a bit of a pot holed dirt road, a slow but steady road with one way bridges and pot holes big enough to swallow a Yugo. A bumpy 30 minute trip, but passable, even for the G-van. However, we did not know it would get much trickier once we got past Avellenas. The roads quickly became muddier, slippier, pot holier, and simply not fun. I was very happy that I had got the G-van washed the day prior. Things got worse when 20 minutes past Avellenas Luka, a student, informed our lead driver of a “short cut”. I thought we were already on the short cut. One swift left turn and we were driving on what would barely pass for an ATV trail back in AK. It was one of those trails where the grass grows in the middle of the dirt road, and there are grooves on either side. Onward we pressed, me dodging trenches, gorges and boulders. Tracy holding her breath and saying “this isn’t right, this isn’t right!”. She was right. Just then the 4X4 truck in front of us plowed across the river dividing the road and scurried up the muddy slope on the other side. It reminded me of a Chevy truck commercial shot in slow motion with a giant V8 dually. However, I told myself we could do it. Shoot his front tires only disappeared for a couple of seconds, and he didn’t look like he was sinking. I hit the gas hard, not intending to lay off until we were safely up the slope 80 feet away. I stayed on the gas through spray of the river that engulfed our van,through the rise of steam smoldering us and through the screaming kids and praying wife. I even stayed on it when I felt the wheels gently lift from the bottom of the riverbed just for a second there on the opposite bank.
This is the nice road.
One of the many one lane bridges
Alas, with a little spinning we made it up the other side, and I think I let a breath out that I had been holding. No big deal. However, just a 100 yards up the trail we ran into a mud bog that would cause Big Foot the monster truck to pause in his tracks. The red tail lights in front of us glared on, and I knew we had met our match. It was time to turn around. A feat which resulted in me dislocating my brand new front plate, and back bumper during my 16 point turn. Joy, for a 3 month old car. With much maneuvering we were able to turn around and found the better “road”. It was about 30% better. But at least it had bridges, though they were all single lane. And its potholes were about smaller, but could still hide a full-grown gator.
The tiny little stream in our path
Ready to cross
the roads slowly degrading
One of the nicer mud pits we traversed. Tracy was too scared to take pictures of the bad ones.
We knew we were close when we saw water that wasn't on the road.
Eventually, after a half-dozen one way bridges, hundreds of muddy water filled jaw jarring pot holes and what seemed like 10 hours we arrived at Ostional, eager to see the thousands upon thousands of turtles. The journey was long, treacherous, dangerous, muddy, painful and stressful. When I finally put the car into park, I felt the muscles in my shoulders and back release, having been fully tensed for the last two hours. I have been on many 18 hour drives that offered 1/10th the excitement and stress, and much more pavement, but the payoff was promising, little baby turtles.
To be continued………
Sail Away on the Marlin Del Ray
With the dry season now upon us, the only logical thing to do is to take to the water, which we did. BCC sponsored a sunset cruise aboard the Marlin Del Ray and the day couldn’t have been better. There were a smattering of clouds in the piercing blue sky, a slight breeze and perfect air temperature to be skimming across the slightly rippled blue sea. On board the cruise about 60 family and friends, drinks, fruit and food provided.
Our chariot awaits
Nary 20 minutes out of Tamarindo we spotted some humpback whales, a calf and her momma and we veered course to ride next to them. They put on a nice show for all of us, breaching, spewing and generally delighting all those on board before swimming off into the deep. Immediately after getting back on course we were greeted by some dolphins who playfully glided by each hull on the 60 foot catamaran. Right along side of them was a small manta ray sunning his wingtips. Soon after that we sailed upon some Leatherback turtles having an intimate moment. They seemed slightly irritated as we slid by them 10 feet away. In between all this were fish jumping, snakes swimming, and the wind and sea slapping gently against the hulls of the boat. On board, kids and adults were laughing in glee with every new sighting.
Thar she blows! Whale watchers moving over the the starboard side.
Once we reached our destination, a private beach, the anchor was dropped and everyone hit the water with snorkels, noodles or life jackets. The water was not the clearest, but it was clear enough to see the plethora of colorful fish and sea life along the reef. I don’t know what kind of fish I saw but I do know that they were neon blue, yellow, rainbow-colored, small, large, fast slow and all curious. The beach itself was empty except for those of us from the boat, so it was ripe for a walk or a little beach combing. It was a small dark beach sheltered by small cliffs on each side, making the bay it hosted nearly glass calm. No surf to speak of, but great for some swimming and snorkeling.
Jeremy and Octavia checking on the anchor.
The day finished with some food, singing and a typical Costa Rica sunset, the money shot. However, they always seem to be a little more impressive from the water. Something about being able to look back onto the beach having the same view the sun has makes it slightly more breathtaking. Cameras were smoking as their shutters flashed, and there was a slight quietness and stillness that enveloped the whole vessel as we waited for that magical moment when the sun disappeared over the edge of the world. We were not disappointed, as we never are. And as we were shuttled back to the beach in the 20 foot fiberglass, white open skiff, which got us close enough to wade back to the beach in the warm Pacific water, I realized that this was November, and we had just all been kissed by a touch of sunburn. I also realized that our reality had changed from shoveling snow, driving on icy roads and trying to keep my bald head warm, to trying to stay cool, dealing with jellyfish stings, and trying to make sure my bald head doesn’t burn. It is a change, but we are doing our best to cope.
P.S. There are so many pictures that I just put them in slideshow below for you to enjoy.
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Any reason to party?
Back in the states Halloween was a pretty big deal. In fact, if I recall correctly, the very first date Tra and I ever went on was near that very holiday, at a harvest fest type of event. I recall having to be prepared every Halloween for the slew of kids to come parading through the neighborhood. With every open door a shot of cold air would rush across our skin, and handfuls of candy would be dropped in the bags of ghouls, ghosts, goblins and ???. In Costa Rica there is no Halloween. Perhaps it is because they have a plethora of other holidays, or perhaps it is because it was created by the candy moguls in America, or perhaps it is because chocolate can be very hard to come by for the locals. Either way we didn’t expect much of anything, we were wrong.
a rock star from NOW, an American army guy, and a flapper
Ben from "Not of the World" Note the tat.
Jeremy and his first victim of the night.
Ben and Brockzilla, two rock stars from different sides of the track, not standing out at all in a packed La Paz gym.
There is a pretty large contingent of Ex-Pats in this area, and they hold on to their American / Canadian traditions very strongly, as we are quickly learning. If there is a slight reason to celebrate or party, they will gather in droves. Superbowl, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Columbus Day, doesn’t matter, if it connects them to home, they embrace it. Halloween, other than being a floating holiday is no different.
our flapper girl
Kassie and Jake harvesting some subsistence candy.
In the area we live there are three primary english schools, La Paz, Country Day, and Gold Coast Academy. All three private schools, all full of Americans, Canadians and French ( don’t ask me). All three of them held festivities on Friday night.
Livy in her award-winning costume, the one in white.
all about the candy
Our evening began right at sunset; humidity still thick in the air, the hot night air enveloping those in monkey suits, ghost sheets and more. I saw more sweat stains than at a July jalapeno chili bake in Texas. We hit La Paz first, the school had a special area for candy gathering, and it seems every english speaking kid in the country was there, adding to the humidity. As we weaved our way through the blue mat maze of on-air conditioned classrooms, we were met by princess’s, gold people, Lego’s and many more homemade costumes. There is no Wal-Mart, so creativity had to be high. Although sheer torture for the camera wielding adults caught in the never-ending snake of children, it was fun for the kids as their bags weighed down under the girth of the mixed tico candy. The school also had a small haunted house, and a gym full of games for the kiddos with prizes and awards. To top it off they had a bake sale and hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill. It was an all out event that required traffic control and parking on an empty over grown lot next to the school.
still waiting in line for some more loot.
Like, who's this creeper pretending to be Shaggy? ( a good friend, the real creeper is over his right shoulder)
Next we made our way to Country Day School, where they had a similar event going on. However, their highlight was the haunted house, and that is what we set our sights on, at least those of us brave enough to endure the close tight humid quarters. As we made our way through the draping of dark plastic we were assaulted by every creature imaginable from every angle, our feet, our heads, straight on, they were everywhere, and it appears that they were heavily dehydrated. It was a fun adventure with blue lights, water , at least we hope it was water, and much more. And talking to some of the creatures afterward, it was labor intensive, hot and draining, but they did not complain, instead they did their best to elicit screams and cries, and I am sure I heard a few, even from within our own party. Again, there were games for the kids, bake sales and some BBQ pork sandwiches. Lots of decorations, and balloons that were getting heavily assaulted by anyone under 4 foot tall.
no parking on the dance floor baby!
We finished the evening as chaperones at the Freaky Tiki, and event semi-coordinated by Alli as the event planner for her school. The event was made for the older kids as a costume dance event. Now I don’t know what qualifies as a good dance, but if it is a bloody red pool and fountain, lots of sweaty kids dancing all together, loud never-ending music, pizza and very loud never-ending music, then this was a successful dance. Again, it seems every english speaking kid from every local school was there. Apparently things have changed form when I used to go to dances. In my day you asked a girl to dance, you went out to the floor together and danced next to your buds, making funny faces and did your best to be cool. What we witnessed was just a glob of people all dancing together. I never did see two people dancing. The smallest group was six. However, I could’ve been hallucinating because between the unbearable thumping, heat, strobe light, and extra curricular lightning storm, I am not totally sure what we witnessed. But I am pretty sure there were no nefarious on goings nor any grinding going on during our watch! The dance went from 7-11 and was thumping the whole time.
a pool of blood surrounded by tombstones.
The fountain of blood, created by Mr. S. the demented.
strobe light limbo.
It was pretty much packed like this the whole night.
The freaks come out at night.
I have never been so exhausted after a Halloween night. I am convinced that we met every Ex-Pat in the area on that Friday night, even the ones without kids. And the best part, Halloween is tonight. I have no idea what to expect, but we will be prepared with some melted chocolates for our little prettys, just in case. Can’t wait to see what Thanksgiving will be like. I plan to get a nap before that one.
Just Bag It
Having never been much of a world traveler, the things I experience, the things new to me, are odd. Odd to me because they are different from my expectations. Not odd in a bad way, but odd in a way that makes me go hmmmm? Let’s take food for example. Sure the national food here is arroz con pollo or arroz con frijoles, chicken and rice or beans and rice. Like in Alaska where everyone has their own sourdough or beer batter or smoked / canned salmon recipe, here everyone has their own beans and rice or chicken and rice recipe. That’s not really too odd. I’ve watched enough food network to know that when you travel you should attempt to experience the “local” cuisine. However, what I find a little odd is how you buy your food.
Perhaps a little bit of a brand translation fail? Yummy bread though.
For instance, bagged ketchup? Yep, you can buy ketchup in a bag. Not just ketchup, but mayo mustard, beans, pretty much anything that comes in a liquid or semi-liquid form is sold in a branded six-inch sturdy foil bag, like a giant Capri Sun bag. They are in every store and nearly every aisle; Even cleaning solutions, clorox, windex, soap…. bags. Now I haven’t exhausted every resource, but I have asked a lot of people and no one has been able to tell me why. I have heard they are easier to stack, last longer, more econ friendly etc. All theories, all plausible, but odd none-the-less.
Ben showing us the Mayo and mustard bag section.
rows and rows of bagged / pouched stuff.
Pouched honey
Not sure if this is oil, lard or grease, but I know it is bagged, and Jeremy wants some.
Vanna showing us bags of cleaning "stuff". Liquid, powder, solid doesn't matter, it is bagged.
Hot dogs, and American staple and a Godfrey staple. they are good for breakfast lunch or dinner. I know what you are thinking, they do not come in bags. Well, not exactly anyway. They come in wrappers. When you grab a pack of dogs at the store, they look just like any pack you would buy back home. However, they are made from many different things here, most commonly chicken. So you need to learn a few words to grab the right kind. But when you cut the pack open, you quickly see that each and every dog is individually wrapped with a thin layer of??? It is like a Saran wrap, a very thin tinted Saran wrap. I have yet to get an answer as to why or if you are to unwrap before cooking, cook with wrapping on, eat wrapping or discard wrapping. Again, odd.
look closely and you can see lurking beneath the package the slightly pink wrappers engulfing each individual hot dog.
Is it just me or does this just not feel like spanish?
Eggs, another Godfrey staple. We could have 50 chickens laying eggs in our back yards and that probably wouldn’t be enough for our family. We buy a lot of eggs. In the markets here the eggs come in containers of 4, 6, 12 , 36. They are brown, their shells are thicker and the eggs are not all the same size or color. They are not individually stamped, they look more like someone just picked them up form one of the millions of chickens you see running around all over the place. Also, they are never not once refrigerated in the store. Not in the upscale stores with air conditioning, or the local 95 degree stores. Eggs do not go in the refrigerator. They are usually at the end of an aisle stacked 6 feet high. We try to get the bottom of the stack of course, they are slightly fresher. Another oddity, or eggstentialism if you will.
The nicest egg section this side of San Jose. Usually they sit on the floor or on a metal rack.
You can see the bread lady at the bread counter. If you get a bread or pastry and try to walk by without her bagging & tagging your bread, well then you are taking your own life in your hands.
They are serious about their bread here, rightfully so. It is good bread.
Further, there are an abundance of employees in every store. For instance in our local Auto Mercado there is a stock boy for every aisle, and they are always adjusting, dusting rearranging or doing something in the aisles. There seems to always be at least one of them in the aisle if not three or four. There are usually 3-4 security guards patrolling the store, and apparently they have been trained to keep an eye on goateed bald guys. But I find a smile and a “buenas” puts them at ease. Most every store has a meat counter where you get your meat, and three employees behind it. Oh, and you order in kilograms. That’s always fun, especially the first time you ask for 4 kilos of molida (ground beef) and the guys eyes almost bug out of his head. Often times in the vegetable or fruit section there is a guy there just to weigh your fruit and mark it for you. If you try to leave there without getting it weighed and marked, he will chase you down. There is another one in the bakery section to bag, box and mark your doughnut. Around every corner there is someone doing something, or doing nothing as the case me be. In almost every instance there are more employees than patrons in the store at any given moment. The day I took these pictures, in the nicest mercado this side of San Jose, I counted at least 25 employees and about a dozen shoppers.
It seems that Tony the Tiger is quite a bit meaner in Latin America. Perhaps it is the heat.
So not only are we learning to adjust to the new money, the new language, the new food, we also have to relearn the metric system, how to shop for food and how to purchase it properly. It is a daily adventure, and sometimes struggle. But I have learned a couple of things over the last 4 months; Squeezing your condiments onto an unwrapped hot dog, near nirvana. And you haven’t lived until you have made your kid’s PB&J by squeezing your grape Smuckers from a pouch.
Here comes that rainy day feeling again
October is apparently the rainiest month of the year in Costa Rica, and this one has not disappointed, at least not in our eyes. If one has their eyes open the signs are readily apparent, huge drainage holes in the concrete walls surrounding yards, deep concrete ditches on the sides of the roads, and houses adorned with gargantuan gutters and spouts all for this season.
Talking to those who have resided here for a time, this has been a light rainy season. Thunderstorms in the morning, clear skies in the afternoon, clear skies in the morning thunderstorms in the afternoon. But something changed this last month. The thunderstorms have given way to rainy days, cloudy days and periods of downpours. You know it can get bad when your church has a contingency plan to meet in a nearby school if the rain causes the river to rise to an uncrossable level. Which it did last Sunday.
the river runneth through the road to church
Even though I was born on Kodiak Island ie. one of the rain-forests of Alaska, and we lived there for years, it is taking us time to get used to the pure intensity and size of the local rainfall. Often times it pounds down so hard on the roof of the house, you would think it collapse under the sheer weight and force. It is a thunderous sound against the ceramic tiles, that could be almost melodic, but it echos more the constant rolling thunder. Even a quick sprint to the car, 30 feet away will leave you drenched to the point of dripping. But then, when the rain stops in the afternoon and the sun peaks through, then the evaporation and humidity, wet sticky humidity take over the day, and it leaves you begging for the rain again. At least you know you are going to get wet in the rain, the humidity is like a sneak attack; melting you from the inside out.
managed to capture a shot of lightning in the pitch black of night with my iphone.
This being our first rainy season, much like people taking pictures of moose their first year in Alaska, we are shutterbugs, shooting video and pictures of the massive amount of agua that this country can endure. However, it has not come without a price, as there have been 18 road closures, massive mud slides, flooding and the likes.
This is what it looks like from our patio in between the hundreds of lightning strikes....
...same shot seconds later, still pitch black out. It is like a disco strobe at night.
So the following video is for your enjoyment, through the sacrifice of our dryness. Much like the pictures from my days patrolling the Pacific ocean, and waves on the beach, the pictures and video do not accurately display the veracity and intensity of the experience. But it represents a typical September evening and so far a typical late October day. The good news; if it continues we will be surfing down driveway! Hang Ten.
A wet lens and water logged ears
During our trip to Orlando, one of the main things on our shopping list, besides eating at Steak and Shake, was a waterproof camera. Did we need a waterproof camera?That’s like asking if we need an iphone. And I am not taking my iphone out in the agua, that’s for sure. Although the new iphone 4S will be released soon, hmmmm.
So naturally, as with any new toy, we took it out to give it a test run. It’s nothing fancy, but it can get wet and still take pictures, so it met our criteria. Plus, it is a lot of fun to bring electronics into the ocean with you, it kind of feels naughty. In fact it took me about an hour to figure out that I didn’t have to hold it above my head and sacrifice my body and as the waves crashed around me to keep it from getting all wet. So today’s blog is just a bunch of pictures taken with our Fujifilm XP waterproof, freeze proof (important for here) portable camera. We are still learning the settings, and I am too lazy to edit the pics, so some are dark, some are light, some are blurry, some just right.
These pictures were taken during some outings over the last couple of weeks at Tamarindo, Playa Flamingo and Avellenas.
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Jags, skunks, locusts, balls and WINNING.
I recently described the area we live in as being similar to Seward Alaska, accessible by road to the big city, but somewhat remote. A very small community with lots of tourism, more restaurants than it needs, minus the big chain restaurants, and littered with tourist shops and activities. A town that partially shuts down in the off-season, and has that small town feel, where you feel like you know or at least know of almost everyone in town. That is Flamingo; except most people here are always in bathing suits or shorts, and the beaches here beg you to be bare foot, not in Extra Tuff rubber boots, even in the rain.
In all actuality, we are probably smaller, people wise than Seward, and definitely smaller family wise. You see there is a large contingent of retired or semi-retired people here, people sans kids. Therefore the schools are pretty small. The public schools, open air Bodegas, are all in spanish, not an option for english speaking kids. So the only other choice is a private school of which there are three in the area. Our kids go to Gold Coast, the school with the most seniors of any private school in the area, 8. This does not often make for a robust sports program, and often the first clue is when every able body boy in the school is on the basketball team. Dorian and Jeremy are among those. Oh, and several of those boys have never touched a basketball in their life.
The Gold Coast Jags had their first game a few nights ago in Liberia, against a school with about 800 kids. Although the game was extremely entertaining, it was not very competitive.
The Jags practice facility. It reminds me of Madison Square Garden, at least the garden part.
One of the nicest Gyms in the area, and yes those are not windows at the end, it is open air.
First of all there are some American assumptions that must be cleared up. Practice: In America, high school sports practice for pretty much any sport is 4-5 days a week, 2 hours a day, at least! Here practice is 1 day a week for 2 hours in a dark open air multi-purpose room with no fans, no air conditioning and lots of hot, heavy dead air. Shoot, I coached kids from 5 years old and up and we had practice at least 2-3 times a week.
Dorian warming up. Ironic, since it was like 90 degrees out.
Facilities: In America every school has a gym. In Costa Rica a school is lucky to have desks. However every private school I have seen has a pool, but not a gym. And the pool is more for cooling off during lunch than for competitive swimming. That’s why our kids practice at a facility several miles away in the middle of Huacas, that is dark,dirty and hot.
More warm ups.
smiling as he gets hacked for an "and one"
Mindset: In America we drove our kids to excel, we drove them to succeed in sports, at all costs, and we drove them to a lot of practices, games and meetings. It was a lot of driving. Here athletes, except for soccer, seem to have more of a surfer’s attitude. They want to win or catch the big wave, but if not, well Pura Vida, there will be another one soon. Don’t get me wrong, the kids want to win, the coaches want to win, but it’s not like their life depends on it. They compete and play hard, they get mad when they mess up, they get frustrated when others mess up and they work their butts off during the game. But when it’s done it’s done, time to get some Burger King or McDonald’s, a rare treat in these parts, and get ready for the next wave, after a brutal 2 hours of practice in the coming week.
Jeremy running the show
Jeremy getting ready to score his first point as a Jag!
up and in!
the gym, and I don't know what the heck that thing is on the wall.
Playing under the bright lights, dodging bats locusts and bugs.
Like all things here, it will take some getting used to. But I must say these are a lot of the changes that we wanted to experience. We don’t miss driving 200 miles a day ( literally) to practices, dance classes, games etc. We don’t miss having stressed out kids and angry parents screaming in the stands. And we don’t miss winning. Okay, that last one is a lie. We sure would like to win a few games this year, but first we better work on scoring some points. But on the bright side, the games are fun to watch, if not for the basketball action, then for the giant locusts flying around in the gym, or the bats feeding on the bugs by the lights, or even the skunks that wander nearby. Winning quickly becomes a secondary concern when a skunk is involved. Perhaps the Jags can figure out a way to use it to their advantage on defense.
Life in the fast lane
With a tourist Visa, we are only allowed to be in Costa Rica for 3 months at a time before we have to make a trip outside of the country. So last week we took a 5 day trip to Orlando. We did not visit Disney, Universal or Seaworld, instead we shopped, ate and shopped. We ate at every restaurant that we don’t have here, which is everything except McDonald’s and Burger King, and we shopped at every store we don’t have here which is….. every store. Our days consisted of getting up, eating, getting good coffee, shopping, eating, shopping, eating, stopping at Wal-Mart or Target ( I consider this more gathering than shopping), sleeping,repeat. We did this for 5 days, with one afternoon to go watch Captain America in a real movie theater with really bad movie popcorn. Sure miss that little luxury, but don’t miss the cost.
Living here you quickly learn to appreciate the simple lifestyle, with the difficult process, but you miss the luxuries that we as Americans have grown up with. Fast food, fast shopping and entertainment around every corner. We don’t have those luxuries here. Fast food is 45 minutes away, and fast food at a local soda is usually a real meal with rice and beans. Entertainment is scarce. There are no local movie theaters, and the ones in Liberia are often in Spanish. There is a hopping bar scene, but that is more depressing than entertainment, at least in my eyes. Our entertainment usually involves group get togethers and more often than not, a beach. So in that aspect life is simple, and it is fantastic.
However, it does not mean we do not miss this stuff. When it is put right in front of you, it is hard to resist. Convenience is everywhere and always.
One thing that we are missing, that we don’t miss; Sirens. I heard 5 times more sirens in the 5 days we spent in Kissimmee than I have heard in 3 months in CR. In fact I can only think of two times that I have heard sirens since I have been here. Over spending; sure things here are often quite more expensive than back in the states, but there are far fewer things to spend $$ on. Once you get set and established, you can live quite effectively on a minimal budget. The initial setup is spendy, and the luxuries will cost you, but you don’t really have the plethora of places to spend your money that you do back in the good ole USA.Traffic; Sure driving here can be tricky and even treacherous, but there is no traffic. Almost all traffic slow downs are caused by a herd of cows being herded by three vaqueros on horses. You pretty much just pick your way through them, go around the tourists taking pictures, and keep going on your way. Besides, if you are late, no big deal. It’s Costa Rica, Pura Vida, plain and simple. Schedules are loose, times are more zones than minutes, Monday can mean any Monday, and closing / opening times are often displayed with an “ish” after the time.
It takes quite a while to get used to, as we have not, but it is much easier to appreciate after a trip back to the Mother Land. Well I best be going, the kids got out of school an hour ago, and I was supposed to pick them up and I still have to get me an iced coffee along the way. I gotta have something to do in case I get stuck behind some cows.
Pretty much the definition of Pura Vida.
A September Christmas to Remember
You know how kids are when Christmas draws near? They are always smiling, antsy with anticipation, giddy with glee, and doing the dinosaur clap with their hands anxiously waiting for that new Xbox,doll or smart phone. It doesn’t matter the present, its theirs and its unknown and its exciting. They exude joy and it overflows into all those around. They are beaming, happy and impatiently patient. It is almost shame they have to open the presents, for if we could just leave them sitting there for all time then perhaps they would always be this fun and pleasant. The anticipation is better than the event.
Now picture in your mind the same actions, only by an adult. The smiling , the running around, the jumping up and down perhaps a cheerleader kick thrown in for good measure and don’t forget the t-rex small arms clap and a smile so big it can’t help but make you warm inside, which on a 95 degree day is not always a good thing. Well that was Tracy this afternoon. Why was she so excited? Because today her stuff arrived. That stuff she packed away and shipped back in May, it arrived today. And when the phone call came she got her celebration on.
Francisco beginning the unpacking on a 95 degree day
Now none of the stuff that came was new, it was all old, packed and shipped from our Alaskan home. So why so excited? Because, it is parts of home, parts of who we are and parts of who we were. It is the small suff that makes use feel at home, that eases those slight tensions of something new. They are parts that ground us and make the adjustment much easier. They come with memories and emotions and they have been missing in action for almost 5 months. No longer. And within hours pictures were hung stencils applied, kitchens stocked and bikes road.
never been so happy to see some old totes n coolers
doing my due diligence to make sure everything, especially the Mac, came intact.
Me, well I don’t get excited over stuff. I am far and above that. FYI, my Mac and coffee maker are not “stuff” they are essential items of survival. Therefore when I pulled my groin doing a double split jump in celebration, it was to celebrate my spouse’s happiness and not “stuff”. None-the-less we are grateful for another victory!
ever see someone so happy to see some mixing bowls?
Small Victories
As we near our 3 month anniversary as ex-pats here in Costa Rica, the overwhelming theme has become small victories. For new comers to this country, victories are as rare as an iceberg off the coast of Flamingo Beach. What are victories? Well to me victories are things that you can check of your list. The list you made before moving, the all important things that must be done so that you can succeed in your move. For instance, my list contains items such as getting our stuff here, opening a local bank account, buying a car, getting our residency started etc. Definitely not a daunting list by any means. In fact, I bet you if I had just transferred somewhere in the states, I could have finished the list in a morning. However, from the aforementioned list we have accomplished one thing and one thing only.
The obvious pick is that we got our stuff here. Of course, Tracy prepared, packed and planned all of this in May. Our stuff was shipped in May. It was due to arrive here in June. We had thought ahead, we had prepared and we were ready to reap. Instead, nearly 5 months later our stuff is ” on its way”. Supposedly it is here in the country while customs goes through the loads of school books, bikes, clothing, cooking utensils, computers and other necessary items. How long does customs take? It depends on how you ask and what you have. We are praying we see it before our six month anniversary.
So the next logical choice is the bank account right? Just bring some money in, fill out a couple forms,show an ID and passport and voila you have an account. Negative. I mean before I left the states I opened a new account with an online bank all over my computer in less than 10 minutes. But, I should have known better the first time I went into the bank and the teller said ” it is impossible for you to open an account with what you have.” He handed me a list of seven items, including a bill saying that I live here, a corporation, a letter from my accountant, some blood and a child. Eight trips to the bank, a dozen trips to my attorney, and still no account. I am told I am getting close though.
Residency, well that takes a year on average, so we haven’t attempted to scratch that itch yet. So our newest victory is our car. We finally got it. Again, eight trips to the dealer, four trips to my attorney’s office, dozens of phone calls, and five rental cars later we have a car. A car that was paid for two months ago, ordered a month before that, promised to be delivered to me the first week of August, then the next Monday, then the next Monday over and over again. It was a great way to learn that Lunes is Spanish for Monday. Finally I was absolutely positively no doubt about it going to have the keys in my hands this past Monday, over six weeks later. Needless to say, I got the keys on Wednesday, and very happy to have them.
If anything it certainly makes you appreciate things much more. It is hard to learn to get rid of the constant angst that wells up in your gut as you feel helpless to get things done. You don’t know the procedures, you don’t know which piece of advice is the best and you don’t know where to go. You may not know the language, you may not even know what you really want, but you have to get something done, you have to get something off that list. Perhaps I am learning to live in God’s timing and not in Glenn’s timing.
So now without further adieu I take out my giant ballpoint pen cross “get a car” off that list, and it feels great! Something is done, something critically important. Now if I could just figure out how to get insurance. Oh well, at least I have a way to get between my insurance agent’s and attorney’s office the minimal eight times it will take to figure it out.
The new ride styling in the new driveway.
Jake and Kassie taking a second from the pool to pose. The new van holds 12 persons, and not much else.
Thank you Lord for this victory, and we look forward to many more in your time.
Shell Shocked
Since we live in an area known for its beautiful beaches, we tend to spend a lot of time on them. As you have seen in previous posts, each beach has its own personality, some for surfing, some for swimming, some for tanning and almost all for shell hunting. One of our favorite activities since we have been married beach combing on a beach, any beach. Funny thing, the kids have really gotten into this pastime as well. They view it as a treasure hunt. And if you are not surfing or swimming, it is a great way to get some sun and have some fun. In fact, we have cases of shells and beach glass that I have paid to move to at least three different houses. What do we do with them? Good question.
Jake and Kassie doing what they love to do, look for treasure. I prefer non-living.
Jeremy looking for his piece of the pie
A gaggle of gatherers!
A typical find, nothing outstanding.
Barefoot in the warm moist sand, waves crashing against the beach, a slight breeze and the smell of the ocean as you leave a trail of slowly drying foot impressions behind you; You never know what you might see. By accident, last time we were here we found a very small beach, a lonely beach, with giant shells. We have been back several times since. However, surprisingly our most recent best finds came this past week at a beach we have been to a multitude of times, a popular beach known for surfing, Grande.
one short beach sweep
it's like berry picking in the tropics! Except we can't eat em.
a good start
As me and the boys attempted to surf ( and I truly mean attempt) Tra and the girls decided to go for a walk. The tide was very low, hence the lousy surfing, giving a huge runway of beach to comb. As they walked they heard a clinking and decided to investigate. What they found was a small gully in the beach, right where two crests of waves were meeting to etch out the gully. In the gully, hundreds of hermit crabs leaving their current shell for an upgrade. They would crawl out of their shell, and then test out a new bigger shell, if it fit well they would stay, too big too small they would return to their old shell and try again. Amongst them, a treasure trove of shells, shells like we have never seen. All unbroken, all unique and all beautiful.
a non-typical as we would say back home.
Boone N Crockett
Kassie's classic
Looks like it'll cost me a bundle to move this new batch!
and more.......
...and even more. They never end!
The ladies, they loaded up, but the day’s winner for sure was Kassie. As she walked along the shoreline, she was shin deep into the Pacific as kids tend to do, when she kicked up a nice little shell. She bent over and pulled out a gem, probably the best one we have seen since we have been here. An unbroken hand sized shell, a rarity for sure. So when you come to visit, and you see the silhouettes in the sun of people walking slowly on the beach, bent over at the waist and appearing to be looking for a lost wedding ring in the sand ( not saying it did or did not happen) be advised that they are simply shell hunting. And if you join them and happen to see a crab wearing a 14 carat gold belt, go ahead and grab him for me. I’m sure we’ve got a new condo for him here that will fit perfectly in return for the belt.
You wanna look for shells on OUR BEACH!???!!!
Our favorite Costa Rican Fish, The Dark Jackson.
There have been a lot of surprises since we have relocated. Most of them we expected, a few are shocking, and some are more difficult than anticipated. One of the most surprising has been the kids acclamation to water. Being raised in Alaska, the opportunities to swim outside the occasional visit to the local pool, are daunted by the freezing water, and most often end up being an ankle-deep wade at best. Living with a pool in your front yard, a beach 5 minutes away, and perennial 90 degree Fahrenheit air and water tends to change that a little. None more apparent than our favorite fish the Dark Jackson, whom you may know as Jake. Since leaving Alaska Jake has lived in the water. Jake would sleep in the water if he could.
Getting ready for a pairs dive
Pairs diving
Jake doing a dive he invented
showing off
more of the same
Can you see the thumbs up? Maybe he is more of ham than a fish.
He always finds the camera
In the morning, after breakfast, and sometimes before, he is in the pool. Throughout the day into the dark, he is often in the pool. After coming home from all day at the beach, he is in the pool. The kid loves the water, and has become very proficient in it. He can hold his breath longer than me, he can do better dives than any of us, he can swim like a manta ray and no one ever taught him how to swim. He never had a lesson, he was never old enough for us to really teach, he just did it.
the elusive the Dark Jackson
The ham thing must run in the family
About to be crushed by a big wave, no worries.
Perhaps it is allegoric to our life. Just maybe we need to lead them to the opportunities, or provide the tools for our children, ie. the pool, and let them swim. We can be right there to help them, in the water or on the edge jumping to their rescue when needed, but perhaps if we give them a little leeway and let them go just a little they will swim and they will excel in the way that God intended, beyond anything we could imagine. But then we would have to live with the realization that perhaps what God wants with our lives and our children’s lives is much bigger than anything we could imagine. That makes it much more difficult to let them out of the wading pool, unfortunately with us stuck right by their side. Or maybe Jake is just a natural-born swimmer.
Short video showing some of the kiddos sacrificing boogie boards and getting crushed at Playa Flamingo. I was laughing at them, not with them.
In his element
This little piggy went to the market
One of the great pluses of living in a locale that you don’t need a greenhouse to grow fruit or vegetables is the availability and cost of fruits or vegetables. Tracy could hardly stand herself knowing that she could shop at fresh markets. Unfortunately there is not one close by here, so we took the 40 minute drive to Santa Cruz to drop in on their market. We were not disappointed.
Santa Cruz town center
more of the Santa Cruz center park
some of the Caribbean feel
Unlike the markets I have seen back in the states, it is not about the blocks and blocks of stuff, but more about the prices and quality of stuff. The markets here are about the bargain shopping and the super fresh products. In Santa Cruz the market is only about a block big, but that block is full of bargains. It fits perfectly in this old feeling town with its Caribbean colored walls, block streets and beautiful park and church. We went on a Saturday, a bustling day for the city of Santa Cruz, and most of the action was in the market.
just one of the mounds of fruit, good fresh juicy fruit
hey there's some more fruit
Hmmm, not sure they're meeting the fire escape code
waiting for buyers and barking out calls
Tracy in action, doing what she does best, shopping!
It was a hot and lightly windy day, the blanket and tarps covering the vendors were rustling in the wind. As you walk through the narrow lanes between the plastic crates covered in produce, you can smell the freshness, the smell of green fresh green vegetables and fruits wafting throughout the area, interrupted by the occasional odor of fresh fish and sometimes flowers. As you walk by the tables there would be shouts of ” mamon chino cinquenta mil” or “tomatoes cinco cien”, begging you to buy from them and not from the guy next to them selling the exact same thing for a very similar price. The key, we hear, is to get to know a single provider very well, and he will treat you well. So we came prepared to shop.
this was the "flower" guy
the happy shopper holding up some spuds
Kassie with her assigned bag of goodies
Ben looking thrilled as usual
This guy was selling little chicks. Didn't ask him if they were for pets or for food, either way the kids wanted one.
By the end of the morning we had seen dozens of variety of very fresh fruits and vegetables, fresh swordfish, homemade cheeses, fresh woohoo and shrimp, pirated copies of Captain America and every other movie in the theater in espanol, lots of babies clothes, flip-flops, shoes and even a few flowers. Upon leaving we took with us 3 kilograms of swordfish and about 45 pounds of assorted fruits and veggies, all for a grand total of about $60, forty of which was for the fish. Back home we figure this would’ve cost us probably at least 3 times that. However, although we got some great deals, the best part wasn’t the bargains, but the experience. And I guarantee we will be there again soon, and very soon we will have our own personal grocer, much like our mamon chino pusher just down the road.
our haul for the day ( you can't see the two pineapples)
A boat full of monkeys and a river full of critters
The water is not pretty, it is a coffee brown, a brown akin to an old cup of coffee, you know the one; The pot that has been sitting on the burner for three hours, you pour into your favorite mug, add cream and then it doesn’t blend, it doesn’t cream, it just kind of darkens it and changes its complexion. That is what the Rio Tempisque (temp es kay) reminds me of. It is dark muddy water, perfect for hiding the multitude of critters that prey within its banks. Slowly and quietly flowing down the banks, almost undetectably so. It is a virtually unspoiled wild land teeming with crocodiles, lizards, iguanas, birds, snakes, monkeys and tour guides. For wherever there are cool things to see, there are people who will take you to see them for a price.
Rio Tempisque
Guanacaste tree hanging over the river
some kind of bird
Kassie with her new friends
This was our second time touring the Tempisque, known as the most important river in the Guanacaste Region, and one of the biggest in all of Costa Rica. It is protected and preserved, and it shows. Unlike the Kenai River back home, there are no houses on the river, there is very limited river access, and other than the half-dozen tour boats, we have nary to see a human. Well we kind of changed that nary a human thing this time. You see the first time Tra and I did the tour by ourselves, this time it was the whole family, there’s a crowd right there. But that’s not all. Pastor Lyle invited us on this tour, along with four other families, for a grand total of eight adults and 22 kids. Yep, that’s right 22 kids, and most of them were under the age of 10. Quiet no more the Tempisque be.
the back half of the boat
Iguana
big iguana
baby croc
Despite the crowd, it was a great trip. We saw crocs and snakes, white face monkeys and howler monkeys, green and black iguanas, birds of various colors and sizes, bats and even an anteater. By far the highlight of the tour, much like the last time, was the white face monkeys. You see this little critters are not bashful. In fact they are self- trained. They know when the big flat boat shows up loaded with brightly colored loud human monkeys, that bananas are not far behind. As soon as our bow hit the shore, the monkeys were on board and the screaming and laughing commenced. Cameras were smoking, batteries dying, memory cards filled and joy was seen all around the boat. The monkeys, well they just did what they do. The begged, stole, posed, grabbed, and even had an occasional fight, right on top of us. When I say on top of us I mean on our heads, shoulders, laps, seats, wherever there was a morsel of banana or apple to be had, they were there. Even if there wasn’t a morsel, but a closed fist that could contain food, they were there. It reminded me of feeding the fish in Hanauma Bay Hawaii. They come right to you knowing that they will be fed and they will not be hurt. They embrace the paparazzi in return for the reward. I truly believe it is something the kids will never forget.
white face monkeys, the stars of the show
hamming it up for some bananas
hey you look like my little brother
he doesn't look that much like me, but he does like the monkey on my shirt!
this pose cost here one banana piece
I can't seem to get this monkey off my back
He's eyeballing Ben's hat, and it would probably look better on him.
excuse me maam, do you have another banana?
mom's favorite monkey, by far!
Even the drive in and out to the boat launch was adventuresome. On the way in we saw a wild anteater. Never seen one of those before. I assume he was eating ants, and he pretty much ignored us until one of the other kids decided it would be good to go and try to pet him. He was stopped short, thank goodness. On the way out, Howler monkeys howling away, and I did my best to answer. I think that I may have offended them though because they started jumping and shaking branches and screaming really loud. Drama queens.
do you think he's hungry?
well we tried to feed one of them.
Finally, as we sauntered away from them, lo and behold right in the middle of the road a rattle snake coiled up. Danger! As we jumped out of our car and slowly approached, I waited for the distinct rattle and the quick strike, knowing from years of watching the Discovery channel that we need to stay a safe distance away.I was ready to try my snake catching skills, learned from watching Steve Irwin and Billy the Exterminator. Perfectly coiled, I was sure it was waiting for us to get close so it could strike, but alas a local friend poked it with a stick and it did not move. Dead from a fatal head wound, it was still an amazing sight at 5 feet long. And Jeremy, the only one with a knife, was quick to take the rattle as a trophy.
coiled and primed to strike!
but alas a mortal head wound turned out to be this rattler's demise
a local holding up his trophy
Our day ended with a quick trip to the food court in Liberia, a complete contrast to where we had just been. And as we waited for our food, we scrolled through the pictures on our phones and cameras and shared with each other. If we can determine the best part of the trip by the amount of pictures, then there is no doubt that the clear winners are the monkeys. Perhaps next time we will bring some chicken and see if the crocs will come on the boat like the monkeys did. I’m sure that’s what Billy the Exterminator would do.
all hands and legs accounted for
One month update
Well we are one month into our move and I thought I would provide you all with an update.
We are not close to having a local bank account.
We tried to buy a car, but we will have to wait another 2-4 weeks for it to clear customs and taxes etc.
Most of us are not yet surfers, but we are much better than when we started.
Our Spanish is slowly, muy despacio, progressing.
We have made lots of new friends and intend to keep doing so.
We still miss our home our friends and family very much.
Overall, life has slowed way down. In fact, that is probably my personal biggest struggle. I am now working from home, and since I have worked outside of the home since I was 14, it is a very difficult transition, much more so than I anticipated. Often I go outside with my Ipad or laptop and sit just to make it feel a little more like I am not sitting at home doing “nothing”. Who knew that would be such a tough transition? If we go somewhere, it is almost always not on schedule, it is just to go do it, like beaches, surfing or shopping. If we have to run to the store, well it is a literal 1 minute run from our doorstep. There are no practices, meetings, functions, jobs or appointments in the way. At least not yet.
Another big issue is the speed at which things happen, or perhaps a better was to describe it is “not happen”. For instance, setting up a bank account. I have been working on that for over 3 weeks, and I fear I am still several weeks away. There is so much involved in every little transaction and it is all done with primitive methods, ie triplicate copy paper, the old credit card slide machine, and good ole patience. Apparently, according to the local bank, it is because the “Americans” want to account for every dollar coming out of America, I tend to believe them.
Even buying a car, a new car requires much patience. If I went into a dealer back home and told them I wanted to buy a car today, and I had the cash to pay today, they would yank my arm off trying to get at the moolah. In fact they would sell me their personal one just to make the deal. Here, three times I have tried to buy a car, money in hand and have been told over and over, I must wait until they arrive. I offered to buy the one I was looking at, although not the exact model I wanted, but sufficient. I was told no it was already sold we are just borrowing it to show people. You must wait 2-4 weeks. More are on the way, but they have to clear customs and the taxes must be paid. Again, Patience.
one of our temporary transporters
the other one of our temporary transports
Some of the changes we knew we would encounter;
The same amount of daylight every day, sun up around 5:30 sun sets around 6:30. Although we did not anticipate that we would be ready for bed by 9 pm. every night. Perhaps that why this place is so popular for retirement, early to bed and early to rise, and it makes for great pre-dinner sunsets.
The new plethora of creepy crawlies ( more to come on that later). The heat and humidity, the rainstorms and lack of conveniences. We knew what we were getting into on those aspects. And as we learn to embrace them, we will eventually learn to enjoy them, and laud them much as we did the long Alaska summer days, and hide the not so enticing, such as the short Alaska winter days.
Baby Iguana. They eat bugs so they are our friends!
Some of great surprises are the new fruits and vegetables that we love, two new coffee shops close by that serve decent sissy coffee, and our new friend Felix our gate guard. He has turned into our best Tico friend, recently presenting Tracy and I with the gifts pictured below. They are made all the more special by the misspellings. And of course, as long as the sun shines we will always have the sunsets, beaches and surfing.
our gifts from Felix, customized in his handwriting. "Glen" "Trasy" Funny thing, most of my closest friends still spell my name with one "n".
So although we do not yet feel at home, we are now getting the feel of what home will be like. But as we continue to settle, we will keep a stronghold back home through facebook, skype, facetime and U-stream. And perhaps we live in era, a time when one can physically leave home, but never ever really be gone. I will let you know again when I do another update blog at the 6 month mark. And if I am blessed, we will have a bank account and a car by then. If not,then there’s always next year. Pura Vida.
Birthdays, Beaches, Baptisms and Barbecues
As we adjust to our new surroundings, conditions and lifestyle, life keeps moving on by. We have recently celebrated our second birthday abroad, as Kassie had her 12th birthday last week. Her choice of activities, a girl’s day in Tamarindo getting their nails polished, shopping and then pizza at Angelina’s. The boys; well we hung at the house, then walked over to the coffee shop for some frozen coffees and shakes, cruised the neighborhood picking coconuts and mangos and just chilled.
Kassie showing off her new bathing suit.
manicures all around.
Livy
Alli
Having experienced two kids birthdays we have quickly surmised that as challenging as we thought shopping for a birthday in the quaint small town of Soldotna was, it is infinitely more difficult here. For beginners, there are no Wal-Marts, Freddie’s, Beemun’s or anything remotely resembling a department or toy store near by. There are plenty of food markets with tourist trinkets, but nowhere to really “shop” for special occasions. Secondly, you cannot just order from Amazon and have it delivered with “free shipping” in 2-3 days. Perhaps, if you are lucky, you can get it here with extremely expensive shipping, say 2-3X the cost of the item, in about 4-6 weeks. So it is always better to make do with what you can find locally. Hello Pura Vida hats, shirts and shorts and flip flops.
finished product
mom and the birthday girl
Theses are exactly the types of things I wanted to experience, and I wanted my kids to experience. It is easy to say you are spoiled when you live in America, but it is much more effective to live it. I pray that small things like this help us all be much more grateful for what we have and what we had. I honestly don’t think Kassie minded too much, because she smiled all day and Tracy did manage to find some unique and cool prezzies for her. And of course we were able to have cake and ice cream! Now, to be clear, we are not miserable, we are not at all suffering; we are in Costa Rica for goodness sake, it is just the slight differences and lack of conveniences that I want all of us to be acutely aware of.
Another new experience was our first beach baptism. Our church, the Beach Community Church had a baptism service on the beach at Tamarindo. Now when I say baptism on the beach, perhaps you picture a gentle swell blanketed by a warm breeze with the small church crowd, white flowing gowns and the sound of a choir in the background. Not quite. Instead it was surfable waves crashing hard on the beach, the sun glaring down, the wind whipping throughout, surfers, dreadlocks, bikinis, bathing suits and body boarders all curiously watching what this small group was doing near the mouth of the river. It was almost a little surreal, and pretty incredible. Six people were baptised and there were about 30 of us there to watch and support them; cheering on the beach as if we were watching a surfing contest. From my vantage point I could watch the gentle dunk of the newly baptized, while two dreadlocked surfers practiced long board tricks in the background.
Ready for the baptism
moving in closer to watch the dunking.
Pastor Lyle and the pre-baptisimal.
We finished the baptism with a BBQ at Pastor Lyle’s condo right up the hill. There was a lot of the normal BBQ food, hamburgers, hot dogs, steak and pork chops, but there were also some tuna steaks, mahi steaks and more, all very tasty. It was a nice way to nudge us into our new environment.
The kids spent the majority of the time in the deep blue pool while we mingled about and ate, looking for bits of shade. The food was good and the fellowship was even better, and it helped to reiterate that no matter where you live, if you can make relationships, you can make it. Oh yeh, the ocean, warm water, pools and sun, that helps too.
Post baptismal BBQ
Kids at the BBQ having water wars. Note Jeremy and Jake, they were a formidable team.
Jake and Jeremy in the heat of battle.
he put the lime in the coconut, but he had to use a machete.
One of the many benefits of living down here is the fresh fruits. Now when I say fresh fruits, I mean step outside go to the tree in your front yard and pick it off the tree fresh. This is a very new concept to us. Currently we have fresh coconuts and lime growing right outside our front door. The great part of that is that we use limes for cooking and in every glass of Pepsi light that we drink. Unfortunately, they make the Pepsi Light taste so good that we drink way more than we should.
lime tree in the background
Lime tree in our front yard
almost ready, but ready enough for Pepsi Lite.
A new treat for us is the fresh coconut. First of all, if you have never picked a coconut off a tree, there are a couple of things you should be aware of, namely bees and biting ants. Further, you want to pick them before they turn yellow. The easy part is getting them off the tree. Once down then the outer shell must be removed, or at least an access point made. This is easier said than done, at least right now it is for us. We are learning the best ways to go about it, but have definitely not yet mastered the art. One method is to throw it against an edge or rock or something several times until the outer shell cracks. Primitive, yet effective. Another method is to take a large knife,cleaver or the local way – a machete, and hack away until you reach the inner shell. The problem we run into with this is that at times we accidentally chop into the inner nut and lose some of the precious cargo. A better option is to chop off just the top area, and the drill into nut and stick a straw in to get at the juice. This seems to be the most popular method, and coconuts are often sold on the street this way. Is it worth all the trouble? You Bet! I used to not be a coconut guy, now I am a huge fan! It is extremely refreshing in the hot day sun, and considered a treat.
One of the many coconut caches right next to our casa!
If you come down to visit, we’ll pick one for you and you be the judge. At the very least you will work up a sweat getting to the nectar, and perhaps that makes it taste even better. In the video below you will see our favorite guard demonstrating his method of accessing the coconut milk, which is more like water and the newest fitness craze drink.
Always try to keep at least with the flip top ready for a straw in the fridge.
Jake enjoying one for dinner
Jake and Kassie enjoying on in the pool, and the best part; they float!
Hopefully, the longer we stay here the more new and exciting things we will see, experience and do. In the fruit category we have already done some of that as seen above, but we really stepped out and tried something way off the radar known locally as the mamon chino. When you first see it, you won’t want to touch because it looks like it has all the qualities of something that is poisonous. It is bright red, about the size of a golf ball and covered in what appear to be extra long, wavy, black tipped cactus thorns; Almost like a mini red puffer fish. However when you pick it up you find that the spikes are actually soft, that takes the first level of intimidation away.
whole mamon chino and open shell in the background
they are sold in bunches
Next, you have to figure out what to eat, and naturally it has to be inside the unique exterior. So you crack the shell open hoping for something inviting, something familiar and yummy looking. Instead you see a white gelatin mass exactly like an eyeball without the pupil. Not appetizing at all. Naturally you bring it up to your nose and you can smell that it does not smell like and eyeball, it actually smells very sweet not unlike Tang. That gives you just enough courage to pop it into your mouth, at least it did for me. You close your eyes and down the hatch, no bites just all in. Immediately you know you made the right choice. It is sweet, tangy, slightly tart, juicy and delicious. It is difficult to chew the white part off, so you just eat it like you would a Gobstopper, until you get to the pit inside. If you have ever peeled a grape and popped it into your mouth, you would get a similar effect in 1/4 the size. A great snack for the road, beach, or just to keep around the house. The are sold in bunches in the store and at the street vendors. They are very cheap, and very popular and now we know why. The classic “you can’t judge a book by its cover”. I just think it would be a lot more fun if I had to use a machete to open them, and if they had a big black dot on them so they really looked like a moose eyeball.
Dorian revealing the white gelatin eyeball; the prize.
Hand picked limes in a hand-picked coconut
Costa Quirks – Driving Guanacaste
Every once in a while I am going to do a blog on a major difference that I notice from AK to CR. I will tag them as Costa Quirks.
You want to know something a little scary? Driving in Costa Rica. First of all the roads are smaller than home, and they have no shoulders. Secondly, there are a bunch of critters all over them, iguanas, dogs,herds of cows, frogs, crabs,possums, skunks, chickens and much more. Even though most of them won’t hurt your car, they can cause an evasive action reaction, which on a road with no shoulders can be dangerous. Even scarier than the critters are the evenings. The roads are very dark after 7 pm. Imagine driving 100 on a small windy road ( yes I know it is kilometers, it just sound s cool to say 100) street lights non-existent, weak headlights barely illumaniting the road ahead, and then like a flash a dark skinned person appears in dark clothes about 1 foot inside the white line, oblivious to you and trusting that you will not hit them. This can lead to perennial tension on the steering wheel, causing excessive stress throughout the shoulders and arms, and flat wearing the driver out.
Filadelfia traveler
bikers are everywhere
this bus tried to get off the road.
Traffic laws are things in fables and fairytales, speed limits ignored. Nobody drives the velocidad maximum, they either drive way below it or way above, never at it. Stop signs are treated like green lights and the double yellow line means you need to pass twice as fast. But you want to know is even scarier? The other people on the road, and when I mean on the road I mean on the road. The pedestrians, bike riders, scooter riders,horses, truck and bus drivers, all of them are extremely frightening, especially in the dark. Remember there are no shoulders, so where do the pedestrians walk? On the road, with black shirts and no reflective clothing, nearly impossible to see. Where do the bike riders ride? On the road with the same clothes.It’s like they want to be ninjas, never seen and never heard until they are right on you. This goes for all of the ones mentioned above, they all share the road with the car drivers.
But even scarier than that, are other drivers. Remember the traffic laws are rarely obeyed, so they drive however they feel like driving, pass whenever they want, and my favorite, stop in the middle of the road to chat with pedestrians other drivers or just to stretch a little. NO JOKE. Buses, Trucks cars all of them will stop right in the middle of the road, granted a couple of them actually turn on their hazards so there is that. Then while they sit in the road tour buses, trucks, motorcycles, bikes, all of them zoom by in the opposite lane of traffic. It is common place to see a fully loaded tour bus pass on a double yellow, up a hill on a blind corner.
Typical Tamarindo scene
It is a conundrum to me. We are in a country where the motto is Pura Vida, and the laid back life style is not only marketed but encouraged. Yet driving feels incredibly dangerous and rushed, it is an intense adventure rivaling whitewater rafting and zip lining, but more dangerous. But you want to know what the scariest of all is?………………….
this is my "forced smile I'm not stressed" look.
……… I kind of like it!
Here is a three minute video of a 45 minute drive back from Liberia.
Busy as a beach bee
I am not going to lie to you, life has been pretty hectic. Not by choice, but by necessity. You see living in Costa Rica, according to what I have learned so far, is divided into 2 styles, minimalist and normal. Now the minimalist life means no car, no house, no air conditioning, very little comfort and very little concern. There is surfing, swimming, salty shorts, bus rides and perhaps the true meaning of Pura Vida. We have not chosen this style of life. Instead we went for the Ex-Pat style, this includes a bank account, a car, and a house, all of which lead to more red tape and procedures than a visit to the oval office. For some reason everything an ex-pat has to do requires an attorney and often an accountant, and most of all patience. I have met many people since we have been here and there are many tidbits of knowledge they have bestowed on me. One that really sticks in my brain is from a couple who have been here for 16 years, ” You will have to re-learn what patience is”. That is deep, and true, and turning out to be a lengthy process.
Time is relative, according to Einstein, perhaps he was trying to become a Costa Rican. Living here you quickly learn the practical application of this theory. Monday can be next Monday or maybe two Monday’s from now. 9 am usually means before 12, usually. Learning to live with it takes a lot more patience than I ever thought I had, but perhaps that’s Pura Vida.
finding some time to realx, and pose
Ben showing us how true Pura Vida is done
There's always time for some crunches, well needed to.
Jake and Kassie doing what they do 90 percent of the time, play in the water
Even with all the business, meeting workers, bankers, accountants, attorneys, teachers, shopping and more, we have worked hard to make sure and find time to hit the beaches, one thing there is not shortage of around us. As we visit the beaches we have come to learn that they each have their own personality. Some are dark some are light, some have surf others do not, some are crowded and others have nary another soul. It is our job and mission to visit them all and to see which fits our personality, which will become our favorite and our secret spot. This past week we hit a couple of beaches that we have been to several times. They are popular beaches with people vendors etc., but they are popular for a reason, they are good beaches.
conchal at its best. a few more people than we care for.
More Conchal sites
Kassie showing off her prize shell from Conchal
a beach of crushed shells
the local fisherman
Playa Conchal is about a 4 minute drive from our house; A white beach made of crushed shells. It is a little tricky to get to, but worth the trip. It is beautiful, warm with very small breakers if any at all. We chose this for a snorkel adventure. Although visibility was not as good as expected, there were a lot of fish to see and it was nothing if not relaxing. The beach is the front lawn of Reserva Conchal, a very nice resort area nearby. It is great for jet skis, snorkeling, tanning, swimming and picnics, but not a surfing hangout so the crowd tends to be family oriented, especially with ticos on the weekends.
Conchal Sunsets
Yesterday was a surf tournament sponsored by Christian Surfers at Tamarindo, and since there were people from our church competing, we thought it would be nice to attend. Now Tamarindo is an extremely popular beach and a very touristy location. It is littered with tourists shops and surfing stores. You can learn to surf from one of the hundreds of experts stationed all over town. They are usually very dark-skinned with dreadlocks, corn rows, Bob Marly surf boards and shorts to match. They all guarantee you will stand on the board before the end of you lesson or “NO PAY”!
There are way more people there than we tend to like, but it is known as a great place to learn to surf, and a great place for those who know how to surf. The culture is truly surf town and tourist town. But when we need to shop or find some different food options, it is Tamarindo we hit, a 25 minute drive from our house. Although we had no idea what we were watching, it was fun to attend a local event and get a feel for the culture. I can’t say the competition was fierce, because I couldn’t tell what was good or bad, and the announcers all spoke Spanish, but it was interesting. The food wasn’t half bad either.
Christian Surfers HDQ
typical for this beach
If they ain't in the water, they is in the sand
I think Tra woke Dorian up for this pic on Tamarindo Beach
Jeremy with the surfing competition behind him.
sunset surfers and the watch station
a chain of surfers leaving the beach
We tend to time our beach visits with the sunset, arriving around 2-3 in the afternoon and staying until the sun goes down. I imagine, much like the moose and mountains back home, there will come a day when we won’t take a picture of every beautiful sunset. But until that day we will continue to share them on the blog with you; Perhaps you can get a sense of where we are finding our Pura Vida in the midst of the chaos.
Surfing USA
Alright, I know we aren’t in the USA, but it was Independence Day and we are still US citizens, so I figured I could take a little liberty there with the title. We were eager to see what the Fourth of July would be like in CR, whether anyone would care or even know. They know, but I am not sure they care, other than caring to party.
Playa Grande
Alli shell hunting
looking for more shells
action Jackson
For us we decided to make it a family day and do something we had never ever done on the Fourth; surf. Since we had never surfed on the fourth, and most of us had never surfed at all, what better place to go than the place known for its big waves, Playa Grande. At the surf board shop we rented the biggest fattest board they had, because we like to go old school, and because they are supposed to be easier to use for beginners.
grand rock at Grande
The rocks residents
Kassie and Jake taking a rare break from the water
Big board Benny
The beach is called grande because it is a huge beach. White sand, big waves and a little wind, pretty much all you need. The white sand seems to go on forever, the waves are never-ending, the people are few and the water as warm as a spa. So into the water we went, dad the instructor who does not know how to surf, a 9 foot surf board and eager students. I suppose like anything, when you watch the pros do it, it looks easy. Swim out, turn around, catch the wave, stand up, your surfing! Of course it never is. To my surprise the hardest part was the swimming out. Almost every kid who tried had a hard time getting the board out past the waves on their own. Conversely, only after a few spills, every kid who tried to stand up and ride a wave succeeded. Our technique was simple, practice jumping up on the beach, practice balancing on the board in the water, dad holds the board until he sees a good wave then sends them on their way. Their job, jump up when they feel comfortable. To my shock, it worked.
Tra and Kassie cheesing it
hmmmm, I don't like to get my face wet, but this looks pretty cool.
Tra catching a wave on the boogie board
I can't believe I just did that! Righteous!
Now surfing is not just about standing on a surf board, that I know. But that is all I know, so until we have some actual teachers we will call that success.
After three hours in the water shuffling kids through the board, I could feel my head start to get warm and my muscles start to get tired, so I had to take a break. In fact, if I could figure out a way to sell a DVD with a wave pool that generated 5-8 foot waves over and over in people’s living room, I would be the next millionaire in the exercise market. It is definitely a workout to just stand in the surf.
Jake praying at the Mar Bar
our new favorite hole in the wall for lunch
Starving, thirsty salty and soggy we asked around for a good quick local eat and were told about Mar Bar, somewhat hidden but the only place to get some good quick grub. The Mar Bar is exactly what I would picture as a surfers hangout. Located as part of small, low-budget hotel, with a pool; It was very small, just wide enough for a row of eight three person tables an chairs in the “dining area” about 5 feet away from the six person bar. The bar had a 1/2 wall to block the road, and the rest was open. The small kitchen plainly visible to the patrons, with a flat screen tv hanging from the wall playing surf videos from around the world. Locals were in and out, the owner knowing them all by name. It was as much as of a pass-thru as a hangout. Our food was prepared by two local Ticas, and it was fantastic. All the items were fresh and handmade, especially the fries. The fries were hand cut half moons, light crispy, not greasy at all and seasoned with salt and rosemary; amazing. The fish burrito, again light but filling, loaded with fresh ingredients, as were the BLT wraps with slices of perfectly ripened avocados and special sauce. It was all excellent, and we will be back.
We finished the day with a local fireworks celebration near the Happy Snapper, a local eatery located across the street from the beach. There was live music which could be heard blocks away. Oddly enough, for USA independence day, the music was mostly Latin flavor and in Spanish. We chose to sit by the beach, not knowing where the fireworks would be displayed. Then in the pitch dark, at 7:30 we noticed that we had parked right next to the lighting station. No fences, yellow tape, nothing to keep you at a safe distance. We move a little ways away and made camp under some palm trees about 50 feet away. Half an hour late and the lighter man began the show. Now it may not have been the most awesome display we have ever seen, but what was awesome was that we were sitting on a beach, under palm trees, 8:00 pm in shorts and T-shirts, as the residual from the exploding rockets fell all around us and sizzled into the edge of the ocean. That was new. It was subdued, not overdone, simple but exotic, late, slow and appreciated, just like everything in Costa Rica. It was a good way to spend our first Independence Day abroad.
Alli and Playa Grande
Costa Rican Tip Ups
One of our goals during our first year here in Costa Rica is to explore. We have started to do that, hitting new communities, new beaches, new areas. One thing has been pretty consistent on most beaches and that is the Tico fishing style. Instead of the Lamiglass rods and Berkley reels of the Kenai River, they use plastic reels and wind up some 20 pound mono filament, a small hook and they are good to go. Instead of neoprene waders or lightweight waders, they wade waist to neck-deep, barefoot and in shorts.
This past weekend we spent the day at Panama Beach and met a local fisherman. He was about 18 years old, tall, dark and slender with black wavy hair. His hands had nicks and cuts and thin burn like scars, most likely from hand holding the monofilament with fish on the line. I regretfully did not get his name, but we attempted to converse for quite a while over a topic we both had interest in, fishing. It was amazing to watch him fish, and like all fisherman he loved to talk about his fishing.
Getting ready to get some bait
The first thing on his list, find some bait on the beach. I think what he used was a very small hermit crab, which he deftly removed it from its tiny shell and put it on a very small hook, one you may use to catch minnows. The hook was below a very small bell weight. He then would wade knee-deep into the water and while holding a white plastic roll in his left hand, he would toss the hook 10 feet off the beach and wait. It didn’t take long before he would be whisking a 4-6 inch sardine in. Quickly he would yank the hook out of the mouth a the sardine and then run to his yellow or black plastic roll and hurriedly run a bigger hook through the back of the sardine and race back down to the water. This time he would go much deeper, at least to his waist. Then like Roy Rogers he would swing the live sardine on the hook and weight over his head like he was going to lasso a bull and then sling it out as far as he could. By my estimates it was 25-30 feet off shore. Then it would sit. He would put the reel in the sand, put a little sand on it and go get the white reel to catch another sardine for his second line.
sardine bait catching depth
On this particular day it seemed to be good fishing, as I could see the sardines flying out of the water as they were being chased by game fish. Every once in a while I would even see the flip of a tail, or splash of the head of a game fish. Within minutes my friend was sprinting back to his reel as it was being drug down the beach; Fish on! Then the work began. I don’t know if you have ever fished with a hand line, no rod, no reel, just you the fish and the line in your hand. But it can be an extremely painful experience as monofilament burns skin rather easily as it slides through your hand.
Costa Rican tip ups
As he picked the line up he would sprint straight up the beach to set the hook. Then as he wound up the line back on the reel, he would come back down to the shoreline. From then on it was a typical fisherman’s fight. He would pull in some line, make some headway and then the fish decided to run and would snap the line through his hand and of the reel. I could tell it hurt because after every run he would glance at his hand and then quickly splash it in the ocean before starting another pull. This would go on four or five times until the fish came to shore. When it was close, he would again back up the beach. What I found interesting was that he didn’t “bonk” the fish, didn’t kill the fish or anything, he just left it and grabbed his other reel. The fish, in turn, just laid on the beach.
The first two of the day
On this day I watched him catch and land three fish. They were all about 10-15 pounds and they all put up a decent fight. The last one I caught on video and he had a tough time with that one ” grande, grande” he kept telling me. Now I wasn’t able to fully understand what kind of fish they were, but through a little research I figured out they were Jack Crevalle, not a highly prized food fish, but food none-the-less. Not food directly for him, food because he would sell the fish and use that money to buy food. He earned the money just as much from the cleaning of the fish as from the catching, because he used a butter knife to clean it. Yes a typical American butter knife to clean all three fish.
Butter knife fish cleaning
At the end of the day, fish cleaned, lines out of the water, fish washed in the water from whence they came,he slings the three Jacks over his shoulder and pushes his beat up blue bicycle off the beach. Before he gets 100 feet he already has at least one fish sold, and maybe more. As he exits the beach the little tico kids all surround him to gawk at the days catch, a hero in their eyes as he pauses to tell them how he caught the fish so quickly and about that goofy gringo that kept asking him a million times ” what kind of fish is that? ” Perhaps next time I will join him and learn the Costa Rican twitch with the Costa Rican tip ups.
This is an unedited video of his last catch of the day.
Niagra Falls in Costa Rica
Imagine your second night in your new home in your new country. You are trying to settle down, trying to get that feeling of normalcy, trying to find something to bind and encourage your family that things are going to be alright. You squish together on the inadequate furniture for a family of nine, feeling a little warm but knowing the air conditioner is doing its best to cool you down. Every channel is in Spanish, badly dubbed in Spanish or in English with spanish subtitles. Then you stumble upon a series of familiar looking shows, they sound normal, they look normal, they are American TV shows. A touch with home, something to ground you, to connect this new world with your old world. Together you find an appropriate show and relax.
What is better with some family TV than popcorn? That’s what we would do at home, as evidenced here, perfect. But since you have been unable to find regular bags of popcorn anywhere in your new world, you have to use microwave popcorn. Nine people, 8-9 bags of corn. Each bag billowing out the scent of corn that causes intense salivating for those waiting their turn for the microwave. Suddenly the finished ding of the microwave signals a new bag may be started, and the race is on. Two teens sprinting for their turn, their bag, eager to quench that nagging craving that their nose is making unbearable. As they sprint towards the kitchen, sliding on the orange terracotta tiles that layer the whole house, one decides to grab the handle of the fridge and use this to propel them to the microwave and sure victory. Alas, the plan works but the fridge is greatly dislodged from its location, it to not immune to the slick tiles. This causes dad to yell ” knock it off you knuckle heads, you’re gonna break something!” A nice little connection to the old world. “Sorry, Dad”, they echo in unison. As popcorn is being popped, one of the kids pushes the fridge somewhat back in place, at a slight angle. Minutes later the other decides that it needs straightened and pushed right up to the wall.
Now if you have never been to Costa Rica, most of the houses are built with concrete. Concrete walls, floors, decks, all of it concrete. In the concrete they run the electrical wires, water lines, sewers, all of it buried in concrete. Our kitchen is no exception. As the fridge was pushed into place, it stopped in its tracks, causing the pusher to give it a full-fledged shove right into the wall. As I sat on the couch and I heard the slight screech of fridge wheels, then the unmistakable sound of gushing water, I knew instantly what was happening. “STOP!”. I yelled out, knowing in the back of your head that once your hear the sound of the water is was way too late. I sprinted across the open space to the kitchen, using my bare feet as Goodyear tires and pulled the fridge out from the wall to see my worst fear, the whole water supply head had been shredded off the concrete wall, sheared off before the cut off valve for the supply to the fridge. Water was spraying into the kitchen just like the main hose on Fire Engine One. It wasn’t hitting the floor until it had cleared the wall by eight feet.
At home I knew right where to go. At home I knew what right to do. At home, in less than 30 seconds that water would’ve been stopped. I’m not home. Immediately, saying over and over, “no, no, no, no” I began running through the house looking for anything that looked like a shut off valve. I found the hot water tank and shut it off knowing that it wouldn’t help. I then looked for breakers to the water pump, all in Spanish, none of them worked.
By now the water was flooding from the kitchen down the two wood trimmed steps into the entry way much like Niagra Falls. I had to go outside, outside in the dark with the frogs, lizards and whatever else is out there in the dark. I had to go around and look for something that would shut the water off, surely they had something. Quickly I was provided and iPhone for light, and around the house I went. I crawled into the pitch black space for the pool, a granite tomb built into the belly of the home, a 5 star hotel for creepy crawly things, praying that something in there would work.No valves, no luck. I ran around the house two times, nothing. Then I remembered seeing something by the gate, a breaker or something, and I stumbled my way there. There I could hear a pump working overtime, and I knew I was close. In a small concreted bunker, covered in spider webs, ants and lizards I saw some familiar valves and I began turning them off, turning them all off. I knew I had found the right place.
As I made my way back into the house, the panick had subsided. I’d had time to think and I knew the house was made to withstand water, 5 minutes of water blasting into the kitchen living room, and falling beautifully into the entry way, I wasn’t sure it was meant to handle that. I saw that Tracy had rallied the troops and they had been catching as much water as they could and poured into the drains. The rest they were skillfully damming it right out the door, with brooms, towels, dust pans, mops, whatever they could find in this new world. At home, on our sheet rock and laminate floors, this would’ve been disastrous, here it was more of chance for me to vent, loudly as I ran around the house like and idiot with an iPhone as a flashlight. There was no lasting damage, other than the water spigot.
The water supply was fixed quickly the next day, done by chipping deeper into the wall with a screwdriver and using some simple PVC piping to make it all better, in fact making better than new. Oh, and the floor, I guarantee it has never been cleaner.Perhaps a wacky adventure is the best way to bond a family in a new world.
