Eat, Surf, Sleep, 2012 BCC Pavones Surf Trip
I have heard the mantra over and over since we have been here. I have seen the t-shirts, bumper stickers, and signs; eat, surf, sleep. I never knew how serious it was until this last week. I was fortunate to be invited along for a men’s surfing trip to a surf spot called Pavones, on the very southern Pacific edge of Costa Rica. It is said to have the second longest left ride in the world, and even though I lean to the right, I was willing to give a ride. So me, Ben & Jeremy packed up for a post church 9 hour drive to surf. Two cars, 15 men, about 20 surfboards, probably 15 board shorts and half as many pairs of clean underwear headed south praying for great waves and good times. We were not disappointed.
The drive was long and tedious at times as the rains and darkness slowed down the last half of the drive. As we drove the tiny roads and crossed the many, very high, un-railed wooden homemade bridges it dawned on me that these guys really like to surf. And as I looked around, there was only one other guy in the group, over 40, who had just started surfing this last year. Everyone else in the group had been surfing since childhood, so either we were idiots or we were brave, time would tell.
Pavones, or turkey town, is a very small village, a couple of tiny stores, some local surf shops, and a couple of places for non-surfing, non-sleeping surfers to grab a bite. No pavement, no ATMs, no Walmart, just a spot near a beach for world class waves, and that was all we needed. We all stayed in a house that was converted to rent to loco surfer’s such as ourselves, some on beds, some in tents, couches, floors, anywhere away from the mosquitos and the rain, cuz we knew we just needed a place to keep our boards and to nap.
The first morning we were all tired, pulling in well after 10 pm excited for an early rise. There were many among us as giddy as schoolgirls before their first dance, unable to sleep. At 5 am the floor started creaking, bodies started moving and the coffee was being poured. As the sun began to rise, boards were being prepped, waxed, new fins attached, leashes made ready and the anticipation of the sun too much for us to bear. Qucikly, men starting walking the 200 yards to the beach to get a taste of a world class wave. Overcast skies, and offshore breeze, huge slow breaking waves greeted us all as we tip toed over the rocks seeking the quickest way to the shoulder.
Personally my arms turned to jelly on the swim out to the waves. It seemed like never ending strokes attempting to reach a mirage way off in the distance. Even the seasoned vets had to take a break before attempting to catch one of these endless waves. It was gratifying to watch man after man as they found they peak of the wave, stroked quickly, slid down the wave and rode on for what seemed like hours. Four hours later, stomachs grumbling, the waves subsiding just a little, we decided it was time for the eat portion of our trip.
During breakfast, exhaustion seemed to overwhelm us, or our adrenaline had abandoned us, because men were dropping where they sat, some with plates on their laps, forks in their mouths, or coffee in their hands. But as quickly as they fell they again rose looking for the next wave. Me, Lyle and Mike F. decided to try and find our boys who were surfing a secret spot. We had loose directions from Marcell, and set off on an adventure. Unable to find them, we went down a trail by some cabanas. As the trail became overgrown and jungly, we decided it was best to turn around, so we stopped and Mike ran ahead to see if there was an opening to turn around. We should’ve know by the way he bulleted back to the car that something was up. There were waves, big long waves he exclaimed, in short panting breaths. But the best part, no one, not one person was in the water. You can make it, he exclaimed, it opens right up. Open up was a very loose word usage, as we had to dodge Lyle’s car between trees, under branches and to the beach to get to the waves. But it was worth it. He was right. There were big long waves and we were the only three people on the face of the earth that day that got to surf those waves. It turned out to be the best 3 hours of surfing we would have on that trip, and possibly in our entire life. Wave, after wave, after wave of rides 100 – 200 yards long, with only each other to take turns with. No wind, no chop, just rideable wave after rideable wave. In all honesty, it has probably ruined surfing for me from that day forward, and I truly wish my skill level was better so that I could’ve rode the waves for quite a time longer. Unfortunately I have no photos for we were all in the water.
So that’s how the trip went, eat, surf, eat, sleep, surf, eat, surf, on and on and on. Our muscles were tired, our body’s were aching. Some of the waves were too big to ride, some were too crowded to ride, but every wave caught was better than any wave we could catch back home. Ben got barreled and Jeremy rode the longest waves of his life, by far. And because of this trip I now know how to eat, surf and sleep, and although it is certainly not as easy as it sounds, I can’t wait until I get to do it again.
The Eyes of Cristo Rey: Nicaragua Missions Finale.
Blisters on my hands, sand in my teeth, sweat on my brow, tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat, pain in my heart and a deep sense of appreciation to the creator of heaven and earth.
My troubles have shrunk, my fear has subsided, my love increased and my faith stretched. I am amazed that so many come to serve and amazed at how many in this tiny portion of this big world have need. I am also amazed that despite their situation, they praise, they worship and they believe. Their possessions are small and their faith is large. Each and every one we served shared a story of prayer and faith and belief that their needs would be met, and that we were their answer of prayer.
I have listened to many missionaries, I have seen countless slide presentations and videos, I have fought back the tears and I have given to the cause. But until I went, until I smelt the stink of the dump and the unwashed, until I have tasted the sandy grit between my teeth, until I walked into their “house” and saw the dirt covered, smashed thin foam single mattress for the whole family on the floor, until I had looked into the live ,glistening, often red eyes, of the dirt streaked faces on the kids, I could not fully understand the need. They became more than a story, more than a video, they are real people struggling every day to survive.
Now that I know, I pray that I can continue to go and to make a small tiny difference in the vast field of need. For I know of no humbler, awe inspiring feeling than when you are told that you are an answer to prayer.
Short slide show: The Eyes of Cristo Rey
Nicaragua Missions Day 3
Our goal was to build 4 houses in 5 days and have three days of vacation bible school. It took us two days to build 4 houses, and we had just enough gumption and money to attempt another house for another family from a different church, not expecting a house. So while a crew dispersed to bend nails at the four houses we already finished and to give each of them a care package, we dropped a crew of five of us off to work on a new casa for our new friend. After two days and four houses,we had the process down pretty good, and thanks to our leader, Oscar, we were able to not only finish the house, we finished before noon. This included modifications to our normal design and plan. It was a true team effort, an efficient team.
looking in on the newest project
Remodel, restructure and build. No down time, lots of busy hands and busy feet.
A little girl from the home build doing her school.
And her brother
Me trying to look cool sporting a Blue's Clue's dew rag. I think I pulled it off.
Dwayne jumping in with both feet, literally, to get this concrete done!
The grateful proud family.
scenes from the long ride home
Spring Festival 2012
This past weekend was the 2012 Spring Festival sponsored and conducted by the Beach Community Church in Brasilito Costa Rica. Last year the event was held in Tamarindo at the skate park, this year the venue was moved to the Village in Brasilito. What is a spring festival you ask? Great question. The spring festival is an event geared towards younger kids; There are jumping castles, there are games, there is candy, there are free snacks, there is a message about the real meaning of Easter, and the grand finale is an Easter egg hunt. The best part, the whole event is free!
Livy helping to hide the eggs.
Wolfy, sneaking a peek at the eggs pre-event.
Jake taking notes for later.
Raffle for missions.
Dave bringing the pre-open pep talk and prayer.
This was the events sophomore year, and although I was unable to attends last years event, it would be hard to imagine it going much better. There were approximately 100 kids, and most of them brought at least one of their adults with them. There were great games like the Sponge Bob sponge toss, the Spiderman Castle, soccer kick, frisbee toss, Jonah and the whale fishing and on and on. There were fantastic arts and crafts, face painting, balloon animal creation, and magical egg designs. It was slightly chaotic at times, hot all the time, and fun, fun,fun.
The main event, the obstacle course bouncy castle.
Mike the balloon man getting ready for business.
Bud and Brock taking a moment from their labor to pose.
Soccer kick in action.
Dorian working the frisbee toss
Daniel and Dave making the rounds.
Jake in the obstacle course
Events like this don’t just make themselves, it takes months of planning, many volunteers, 50 to be exact, and commitment. But most of all it takes blood, sweat and tears. In Costa Rica it takes mostly sweat. It takes sweat to set up bouncing castles and obstacles that weigh 500 pounds, it takes sweat to pop a dozen raw bags of popcorn, it takes sweat to transfer a dozen wooden games to the venue, and it takes sweat to hide 1200 Easter eggs, lots of sweat. In fact enough sweat that most men came prepared with several shirts for the day, and we didn’t even sweat the small stuff!
GOOAAAALLLLL!
Tracy had one of the most popular games, which led to a lot of work.
Pastor Lyle leading a group game before bringing a short Easter message.
Tired baby.
But every single drop was worth it. Every swipe of the brow, sponged off bald head and wadded up soaking wet t-shirt was all worth it. Kids that have very few activities, kids that do not attend a church, kids that perhaps do not know the true meaning of Easter, each and every one of them heard a message of love from Pastor Lyle, and received some great story books. The best part, they brought their adults with them and they heard the message as well. It was easy to gauge the event by the flashes of smiles, the screams of joy and the sweaty painted faces running through the venue, and that was just the volunteers!
Gathering around for the Easter egg hunt, or gather as is more aptly described.
I think there's one right there.
Gatherer.
Seems like a lot of big kids in the 2 year old group.
We found one!
Look Mommy a pink one!
This guy is in full concentration mode.
little princess.
It was a taxing, tiring, tremendous day. The grand finale, the 1200 egg hunt was a bit of slightly organized chaos. Due to the amount of children, we instituted a 10 egg limit. The limit, much like the local speed limit, seemed to be more of a suggestion than the law that we had intended, as we saw great liberty taken as mounds of eggs departed in mother’s purses and bags. However, we were confident that everyone left with eggs, candy, and memories, some with a little more than others.
Lauren squatting for a better scan.
I think this makes number 10!
Hey daddy, is this an egg?
Daddy doing the final count.
Booty time!
At the end of the day a seed was planted and it was watered with the sweat of our brow. We can only pray that they take hold and grow a little until next year when we can water them once again, and perhaps plant a new field.
Time for fiesta.
A combination of a block party, state fair, rodeo and outdoor Latin Deejayed dance, that about describes the local fiestas.
Each and every town has fiesta at least once a year. It is the local culture. When the bull ring starts being erected from scratch with lumber that looks as if it was found on the side of the road, you know it is coming. It takes about a week to erect it, but it is always finished on time. Once the ring is up, the party starts, and they know how to party.
Jeremy, Braden and Dorian waiting for their turn in the bouncy castle.
The ride section
That blur is Olivia, Ben and Faith.
Go ahead and stand up during the ride little girl. It adds to the excitement.
The music is ear bleeding loud. The food is heart clogging good. The vendors are in your face with their trinkets. The rides, well the rides are the rejects, the ones deemed unsafe in the states, and they are fired up and rolling. But the highlight is the bull ring. Every night there is an event in the bull ring, and every night it is a spectacle.
In Costa Rica we call this driver's ed.
These boys did not know what they were getting into when they agreed to ride with Olivia.
I can see regret on their face. Note Olivia is the only one doing the spinning.
The sounds, the smells, the scenery, they all scream party. They beg you to dance, call for you to eat and to eat badly, and summon you to cheer on the bulls. There is the obligatory beer tent, or two, or three, just in case any false courage is needed. And there always at least three different DJ’s blasting out latin, hip swinging, head bobbing dance music, with competing throbbing beats, throughout the night.
Jake and Luke spinning as hard and as fast as they can.
Kassie and Faith following the boys.
As soon as the rides opened, the kids were ready to roll. At the Villa Real festival there were four larger rides, including a mini coaster, bumper cars, a spinning puking twisting thing, and an air spinner. The great thing is there are no lines, because on one waits in line, you just push forward, walk on, get on, and ride if you dare. The rides look like they are about two levels of safety below the typical backyard fair in the states. There are no safety fences, no chains or gates’; in fact to get into the bumper cars you have to literally run through the whirling bumper cars to get to your car and join in the fun. It adds a slight level of intensity. You can also high-five your friends on the air rides as they fly by you at mach 7, or let your little kids go ahead and stand during the kiddy airplane ride, or coaster ride, as we witnessed. So even though the ride itself may not be that intense, the freedom within adds unspeakable levels of intensity.
Don't let their sweet innocent looks fool you, these two were vicious in the bumper ring.
trinkets.
The big ride in action.
The food, it is fried, it is local, it smells good and it tastes good. There is lots of rice, lots of meat on sticks and a local favorite, the double fried chicken. Yep, the fried chicken sits under a heat lamp until you order. Then, to make sure it is hot and fresh for you, they fry it again. So you get a built-in drink with your chicken. We stuck to some churros and donuts with a touch of caramello.
Meat on a stick. Not sure what kind, but it smelled good.
An up and comer.
Homemade ramp to the homemade ring.
Dorian, Ben and Livy on the fence, Braden and Jeremy inside the ring. That's about right.
But the highlight is the rickety wooden ring of which the festival surrounds. Therein lies the loudest music, therein is the loudest announcer, and there is where the crowd gathers. Some unwilling to shell out 2000 colones for a wooden bleacher seat, bring their own chairs and set up station right outside the ring, peering through the wooden planks. Others climb on top of the fence posts, and some set up camp under the bleachers. Us tourists, the non-locals, well we shell out the money so we can sit in comfort and with a view. Exactly what were we viewing?
The bulls came out with a rider, and went back in without one.
This guy was especially mean. You can see he was intentional, thoughtful and brutal. Note the kids peering through the fence.
A bull ring littered with drunk college spring breakers, drunk young locals and a couple of skilled vaqueros on their horses, armed with rope and lasso. There were about 25 young brave men in the ring ready to run from, at, and with the bulls. The bulls were big, the bulls were mean, and the bulls were fast. The worked quickly to get the young rider off their back so they could set their horns on the young sunburned drunks in their flip-flops. And just as I turned to tell my wife how I was rooting for the bull amongst the bravado appearing in the ring, two familiar faces appeared, Jeremy and Braden. So now there were 25 drunks and Jeremy and Braden. They too wanted to feel the horns of the bull up close. Perhaps even more intense, the wrath of mom when she found out they were in the ring.
Braden ready to catapult out, Jeremy with hands in pocket.
This college spring breaker was asking for it all night long.......
And he got a little taste.
But alas, the boys maintaining a full state of soberness stayed close to the fence, leaping up in a single bound at the inclination of an angry bull approaching. They moved swiftly and unlike several Ticos, never had to dive for cover. There were several falls, lots of fence jumping and even some dives as the bulls charged, parried and spun throughout the dirt covered rung. The false bravado was amazing, the close calls followed by high fives, hugs and another beer. As far as live entertainment goes, and for the price, it is pretty hard to beat.
SCATTER!
Prophetic?
The main attraction......
...even for the medics
On a steel horse they ride.
It was a good night, and once it was over it was to comprehend why the fiestas were the most anticipated event of the year. They had a touch of Americana, the cheap trinkets, candied apples, cotton candy and mechanical rides. They had culture with the food and the historical bull ring, as this country was founded and settled by cowboys, or vaqueros. But most of all they have a place to get together, even if just for a weekend. A reason to come out of their small home as a family and gather with friends, enjoy their culture, eat, dance, drink, and just forget about the worries of the day for a couple of nights. Forget about the heat and the hard life, and just enjoy. But most of all they gather praying together that at least one of those drunk college tourist’s back ends meets the front end of a bull. For then they will have a story to share for all time.
A little video shot with my iphone so you can soak up some of the action and sounds.
Songs, Sermons, Sushi; an Epic Gang Youth Group Event
As I have mentioned many times before, you have to be creative when trying to plan activities in this region of the world. It is even far more difficult when trying to plan for youth group events, other than the regular youth group meetings. Most often they involve a beach day of some sort. However, our friend and professional chef Mike Finch had an inspiration for a youth event that came to fruition last week, sushi night. Not just eating sushi, but learning how to make sushi and then eating the sushi.
Prep work
Veggies waiting to be eaten
sushi fillers
Ready to roll, literally.
Our guide for the evening.
Protein! That's what I am talking about.
Elizabeth's beautiful creation. Too pretty to eat, to hot to eat.
The event was a great success. We had 24 youth and several adults show up, packing out our casa. It was everything a youth event should be, gathering to sing some worship songs, a short message from Mike, and then the rice was flying.
Anton and Dorian patiently waiting for action.
Ben and Elizabeth leading us in some songs.
Olivia and Ben, didn't ask, didn't want to know.
Dave introducing Chef Mike to the soon to the sushi recruits.
Listening to Mike bring the word.
While groups of four learned how to roll sushi, the others were often playing epic games led by Braden and Brock. I didn’t get to see what they were playing, but apparently screaming the loudest was the most important aspect of sure victory, and they all wanted to win.
Ready, set, roll.
You must have deep concentration grasshopper.
The rice was flying and the soy sauce was spilling, but it was all good.
Braden was so excited he started eating his sushi a little early.
Of course the best part of the night was the sushi sampling, of which I was fortunate enough to participate in. There was salmon, artificial crab, shrimp, and fresh tuna. For the veggies we had cucumbers, carrots, red peppers, tomatoes and avocados. Of course there was also ginger, wasabi ( extra hot) and soy sauce.
Well balanced
Heavy on the protein!
Almost done
The event was a fantastic success, and despite our concern, the only person to get cut was me! I am sure this will spurn further educational cooking events for the Epic Gang of Youth of Guanacaste; Perhaps fondue! On second thought, hot oil, hot cheese, mini spears…….. I ‘ll let you know.
Ready for me.
Perfection
Bud wants to share. Brock, does not.
I think Dorian missed a step, or he was craving a burrito.
And of course there is always dessert provided by my lovely wife. chocolate, snicker, peanut butter cupcakes. It's a mouthful.
The March of Fires
Fully enveloped in the dry season now for months, the earth all around us is covered in crinkly dry leaves, yellow dry grass and dry tinder branches. This combined with 30-40 mph winds makes this whole region a giant piece of kindling wood. The Guanacaste region has been on fire for weeks, all being fanned and directed by the seasonal winds, ironically the same winds we use to cool our house during the extreme dry heat of the day. It is a nuisance. The air is constantly wafting the odor of campfire about, permeating not just our clothes, but couches, cars, and curtains. The whole house smells like one giant campground, covered in black and white bits of ash. There have been times when we couldn’t see across the road as the thick gray yellow clouds of smoke smothered the road transporting the flames to the other side. During the day it is ugly, smelly and a nuisance, but at night the beauty emerges.
The fresh salt water drowned out by the smoke.
Reminds me a little of a war zone.
At night the burning red-hot spots glow brightly, some close some a distance away marking empty fields. The distant hills have beautiful rivers of fire flowing up and down their faces, remanent of a fresh purge of lava from a young volcano. The smoke is invisible. The fire is beautiful mesmerizing me much like a youngster at a campfire. Burned out stumps, trees spotted with red glows, fields glowing, and wind gusts creating dancing, crackling sparks across the dark night sky a slowly moving glow. It causes a desire in me to greatly improve my photography skills so that I may share what I see.
I did not have a tripod, so I did the best I could to capture the glow spurned on by the wind.
A glowing stump.
Same stump with flash.
One tree dies, the other lives.
Charred remains of the hilltop.
A field near our home along side the road. Many wooden posts died this die.
In the morning it leaves behind a matted black field and hillside, wounded smoldering trees, not dead, but wounded as soldiers slowly walking across a battlefield and a blanket of white and black ash. There are no personnel fighting the fire, no helicopters, police barriers, fire trucks, news cameras, it is just a normal day. Perhaps they don’t have the man power or the budget, or perhaps they don’t care, it is part of nature, part of life, a purge, perhaps it is Pura Vida. Whatever it is, it is now a part of the yearly cycle of our life. Next year, I will have a tripod!
You Can Go Home Again; Just bring some extra socks.
It is hard to pass up a chance to go home again. A chance to see what is new and what has changed, who is new and who is still there. To visit with all your old friends and get a chance to say goodbye all over again. So when the chance came for me to make an impromptu trip back to Alaska, I jumped on it, even though I had relinquished all my cold weather gear prior to my departure.
Now if one was to schedule a rare trip to Alaska, generally they would be looking at June, July or August. Also, generally they would avoid January and February, as they tend to be the coldest, darkest, most miserable months of the year. Naturally, my trip was scheduled in February. Not only is it cold and dark, it is also covered in snow and the roads are often like ice rinks speckled with chicken playing moose. Given the fact that I had not driven on ice for well over a year, and that my driving habits had quickly degraded to the level of a local Tico, I was slightly concerned, especially when I found that I would be driving a studless two-wheel drive Camry. I was right to be concerned.
Dorian showing off our morning dusting that continued throughout the day.
The view of the morning snowstorm on my way to get some coffee.
One of several accidents that I saw during my trip.
First and foremost, just prior to my arrival, the state had been mired in a deep freeze averaging temperatures well below zero for a month. For bald men, this is a problem. However, the day we arrived the temperatures started to rise to well above zero. I theorize that as soon as Dorian and I stepped off the plane, Alaska sucked the tan and warmth off of our skin and released it directly into the atmosphere. Instantly 30-40 temperatures.
Ice wall along Turnagain arm, one of the ones the ice climbers climb.
Sunrise, around 10:30 I think.
more sunrise taken while driving (I told you I drive like a Tico)
If you look closely you can see the wind whipping off the top of the mountain. It definitely made it a wee bit chilly.
Yes this is better than -30, however if you have not lived in a state like AK, then you do not realize what comes with warm days and freezing nights, and that is the aforementioned speed skating roads. Literally roads of ice, covered in a thin layer of water to aid in the release of any possible remaining friction. In fact this time it was so bad, schools were closed and roads were closed. Four-wheel drives were ditched in attempts to climb the hills home and every available piece of unfrozen dirt was spread to give back some of that lost friction. A normal Alaskan winter, and a perfect day for a 3 hour drive to Soldotna.
Mid day Turnagain Arm.
Whats up Doc? Not the temperature.
If this guy thinks its cold, then its cold. Yes McDonald's free product placement.
Common sight in Soldotna.
All in all the driving came back to me pretty quickly, especially with the front wheel drive. I did however get the obligatory rock chip on the windshield, something that I have not seen since I left.
There were a lot of things I observed about myself while in Alaska.
1. I drink a lot more coffee, I mean 2 to 3 times as much as I do in Costa Rica.
2. I take a lot hotter showers. Long, very hot, to the point of the pointless shower sweats.
3. My feet are always cold.
4. My skin is always dry and flaking off my body as if it wanted to remain in AK.
Eli, Mackenzie, Chloe and Jojean.
Jojean at church with Asia and ? I don't know this little girl but she quickly friended us, and then informed me that I was not invited to her house.
All that being said, it was well worth it to see family and friends. It was great to visit and share, even though I was sharing the same things over and over again. It was great driving through my favorite coffee stands, going to Fred Meyer’s and most of all it was awesome to spend time with Jo. She has gotten so big and had some many stories to share. She has become quite the dresser as well. I was glad to see her healthy and having a lot of friends. I was also very thankful to find that our friends were helping to take care of her, our whole church in fact. She is covered in love in our absence.
Jo and Dorian Facetiming with mom.
Ipad facetime in action. Well worth every penny for the memories it created.
I didn’t get to see everyone I wanted to see, I didn’t get to eat with everyone I wanted to eat with, I didn’t get to spend as much time with those I wanted to spend time with, but it was still worth it. I got to spend a lot of time with some awesome friends and family, and I especially enjoyed the hospitality of the Brown’s and Davis’s as they opened up their homes to me and Dorian. It was much better than any 5 star hotel I could ever find on Priceline.
Noah welcoming me to his house. He plays ball better than any Labrador Retriever I have ever met.
Chloe insisted I stay the night, as she lugged my luggage all the way upstairs.
My favorite part of the trip, my time with my little princess Jo.
She still melts my heart. Which is good since I was a little chilly in AK.
I got to enjoy the beauty of Alaska again, despite the miserable roads and the bitter cold ( anything below 50 is bitter cold). It felt natural to be amongst the camo and Carhart laden people. To see the bunny boots, parkas hats and gloves, to defrost my windows in the morning and truly appreciate that first piping hot cup of coffee. It was normal to slow down a little as I came upon a trio of moose anticipating the quick road cross, and even the inevitable rock to the windshield was just like old times. And other than my feet freezing the whole time I was there, it was like slipping on an old pair of socks, I just wish that they had been thick wool.
It is good to go home again, if not for the land, for the people. Although next time, I hope I see more of the green land, more of the golden sun, and more of the hearty people.
Weekend at Arenal
Living in Anchorage, when we wanted to get away for the weekend we would load up the minivan, point her south and head down to the Kenai Peninsula. In two and a half hours we could be in Kenai, an hour further we would be in Homer. It didn’t matter much which one, just as long as we were out of town.
Traveling view of Lake Arenal.
Well the same thing applies here in Costa Rica. With mom and grandma visiting we figured it was a great time to head to Arenal, one of the local active volcanos in Costa Rica. We loaded up the 12 seater with 11 bodies, and a bundle of bags and took off in hopes of catching a glimpse of the molten red lava spewing into the night sky.
Now Costa Rica is know for its diversiveness, and we live in the dry region famous for great beaches. We were headed towards the rain forest and jungles. The drive is about 4 hours and I like to divide it into three sections. The first section I would call the highway, from here to Liberia and a little beyond. The roads are well traveled, pretty straight and blast through small town after small town. The second section takes you into the hills where the winds await. There are sparse trees, wind farms, and a giant lake littered with wind surfers and their neon colored kites speckling the white capped lake. From inside the car, it looks cold, very cold. It reminds me of a lonesome bay in Alaska on cold blustery summer day. In reality, it is about 80 degrees out, and the wind, 20-25 mph, is a welcomed coolant.
Watching fish.
Once pass the sparse hills we enter the jungle, clouds appear, fog is present and the edge of the road disappears into the vivd green dripping jungle. There are a myriad of one lane bridges, rivers and eroding, albeit paved, roads along the way. The temperature is significantly cooler and the air becomes heavy with moisture. It is af you are driving into Jurrassic Park.
Contrary to what you may think, we are not making that bridge sag.
Four hours into our expedition we arrived at our destination, Los Lagos, a hotel / resort known for its spa and hot springs. But it had much more than we anticipated, a small butterfly farm, a frog farm, a crocodile farm and it was nestled right on the shoulder of the active Arenal volcano. It was very lush, very green well kept and catered towards tourists:us. It was perfect for this party of 11. For the kids it had three fast water slides, for the adults 7 different hot springs, pools and a spa.
At least one of them found the camera lens.
Grandma kept getting in trouble for not paying attention. The best part, she never knew it.
Happy, sad, scared, nervous? Not sure, perhaps a mix.
During our two day tour we decided to take advantage of some of the must do activites. We decided on the Ecoglide canopy / zip line tour, horseback riding for some, and a hike to the La Fortuna waterfall. In between all this we would soak our weary bodies in the hot springs and sip virgin pina colados served out of pineapples, can’t get much touristier than that.
Our Tico coffee at our new favorite place to eat in La Fortuna, La Choza. If you visit, you must eat there.
The zip line was the highlight for most. It consisted of 15 different zip lines at varying lengths, heights and speeds. All fantastically fun and exhiliariting. But what really set it over the top was the Tarzan swing perilously awaiting you in the middle of of the tour. Of course I was offered up as the sacrificial Tarzan to go first. As I eased forward onto the shaky mesh metal platform hanging over what felt like the abyss, they strapped me in the never explaining what was about to occur. The guides hooked two thin, weary looking and frayed white lines into my harness. They tugged, tightened and pulled me right next to a gate overlooking a 1000 foot drop ( at least it looked that far) and told me to press up against the gate. At this point I thought they would explain what was going to happen, instead “click” the gate was open. “Wait what is going on” I stammered, “relax, just sit” and I as bent my knees to sit I began free falling to the earth below. My intestines just about flew out of my mouth as I began screaming “NO, NO, NO”. It felt as if the two puny ropes had failed and I was going to be a ball of mush on the side of a mountain. But then the lines gently grabbed hold and began rocketing me straight up to the sky, inches away from the canopy above, and I began swinging, like Tarzan, back and forth, inches away from tree trunks. It was scary, it was exhiliarting and it was fun. The best part was watching those who went after me, knowing what they were going through, but also knowing they had the advantage of knowing what was going to happen. I must acknowledge those who took the leap, Tracy, Dorian, Alli, Jeremy, Olivia, and Grandma. Yes my 83 year old grandma took the leap screaming ‘WHEEEEE!! You’re going to miss out” Much like the Geico pig. She loved it. Mom, well she got strapped in, stepped up to the gate, and then couldn’t go through with it. But she got close.
Can you see the toucan? I can.
After the two hour tour, we rushed a group to the horse riding tour while the rest of us elected to rest our weary bodies in the hot springs. I hear the horseback tour was awesome, but I did not go as I prefered not to have saddle sores for the remainder of our stay. Besides, the last time I did the tour it ended up being a little more adventurous than I bargained for. They however loved it, especially my wife who got to ride her favorite kind of horse.
Returning to the stables after a month long cow herd.
After an excellent, gigando dinner at La Choza in La Fortuna, the next morning, we headed out for our hike to the waterfall in La Fortuna. The hike was down the side of a mountian on steps made of perforated concrete which allowed the massive vegetation to grow through and around it, almost engulfing it as part of the earth. I am not sure how many steps there were, I stopped counting after one trillion, but at least they were of varying heights angles and depths to keep it interesting. The trip down was worth the view, the trip up was tenuous. Next time we are packing a lunch and our swimming trunks and enjoying the view for a while.
Is that Bear Gryls?
Although we did not get to see any lava, or even the very top of the the volcano, it was a weekend to be remembered, a great way to spend the last one before school starts up again. We got to see a lot of critters; the infamous coati begging on the side of the road,monkeys chilling and posing, toucans, iguanas, butterflies, crocodiles, frogs and even a sloth. I am extremely proud of grandma as she did each an every adventure set before her, living life to the fullest. But most of all I am proud of her for surviving three days and two nights without her facebook. That my friends was a real challenge!
This is about as much of the volcano as we ever saw.
Here is a short video compilation of our weekend for you to enjoy. Until our next adventure, I need some sleep.
so this is Christmas
Instead of sleds, snowboards, socks, jackets and hats, our gifts are surfboards, skim boards, shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. Instead of hot cocoa by the fire, we go watch the sunset on the beach testing out our new beach equipment and begging for ice-cold water. Instead of shutting all the doors and windows and watching the snow fall, we open up everything and lay by the pool dangling our feet into the water and long for the Papagou winds to flurry across our face.
Jake showing off his new guitar
Jake and Kassie showing off their new pool horse.
Me offering moral support.
It doesn’t sound like Christmas, but does it feel like Christmas? It depends. I suppose it feels like Christmas to those born and raised here. I suppose it feels like Christmas to this who have been supplanted here decades ago, but it does not “feel” like Christmas to us, at least not yet.
Dorian sporting his new board shorts on Christmas Day.
A different kind of Christmas.
Jake submarining
boys will be boys.
last one in is a roadkill iguana.
It helped to have mom and grandma here baking and cooking until their backs ached. It helped having 9 different pies and cakes, a well cooked turkey and countless traditional side dishes.It also helped being able to fly to Florida to do a little shopping before the big day. It helped having a great Christmas Eve service at Beach Community Church to ground us. But it was vastly different from any Christmas I have ever had. It wasn’t bad, it was just different. I have a sneaky suspicion the next one won’t feel so different.
Now on to the next holiday, New Year’s eve. I hear they do it big down here, but you’ll just have to tune in to see. We’ll see how different that one feels.
Grandma on Christmas Day
Watch out Grandma!
Too late.
Mom watching the sunset.
Until then, time for me to put on my new flip-flops, my new Billabong board shorts, my new tank top, grab a boogie board, check out the tide on my new tide watch and hit the beach for a little surfing. Nah, still doesn’t feel like Christmas. Oh well, I just need an iced latte with some whip cream and I’ll cope.
Daddy in action
Jeremy trying out his new skim board on a Christmas sunset.
An Event Driven Life
We live event driven lives. Lives fueled and marked by events, that come full circle as we near the end. In fact, I believe it has always been this way, just reference the Old Testament. Everything was an event, a celebration to be recognized and honored. Even our very time line is based upon a miraculous event, the Birth of Christ.
The events begin even before we are born; the baby shower. Technically you were there, but practically you had no idea what was going on, but it was all for you and your momma. An event with presents, cakes, ooohs and aaahhhs, and luckily no men around. Then there is the birth, another huge event, celebrated now-a-days throughout the universe via blogs, facebook, twitter, you name it, it is an event, and it is celebrated as if you were the very first birth on earth.
Then comes the first birthday, a big one, not for you but for your folks. You are now a number, not a baby, you have a number, you are 1. They proclaim it proudly, “He/ she is one. Our baby is growing up way too fast.” Then every year the main event is your birthday, up until about 21. Other mini-events pop up in between, graduations, first job, driver’s licenses, first iphone or ipad, you know the important stuff. You will continue to have a number for the rest of your life. Sure once you reach 40, the number will fade a little and pop up every 10 years. But at around 21 things start shifting from birthdays to weddings. Your best friends, your college buddies, they are all over the place. Everyone is getting hitched and they want you to celebrate with them. A huge, once in a lifetime ( prayerfully) event!
After that, it is anniversaries; The first one is huge, number five a biggie, 10 amazing, and everyone above that ends in zero must be celebrated as if it is the last. After about 20 of those, the events again start to change. Birthdays, not a big deal, but the funerals start to creep in. Slowly at first, but more frequently as your birthday and anniversary numbers increase. Some funerals are painful, as the family has no hope in Jesus, no knowledge of eternal life and God’s kingdom. But some, the good ones, they are the ones who leave strong families, families that inspire, they grieve for their loss, but are happy for the eternal joy of their loved one. They are the hardest events to wrap you mind around. If they are young it is much harder, if they are old and have a lived a full life in Christ, it can be happy. Even then, it is always somewhat sad. I have already been to way too many of them, but there are likely more to come.
After that, and if the Lord blesses you to live into your later years, then you have the grandchildren event, and soon a 50 year anniversary. Then it once again turns full circle. Birthdays again become important. 80, amazing, 90 outstanding, 100, well everyone needs to be here for that one. That one is as big as number 1. Once again you become a number, you are 100. You have experienced thousands of events, births, birthdays, marriages, anniversaries, funerals and more. Your have witnessed the full circle, you have experienced it all. You are to be revered, your wisdom to be gleaned, and your spunk to be admired. And it all started before you were born, it all started when he knew you before you were formed. And in the end, at the final event, the most important one of all, the only thing that matters is that you, in return, know Him, and accept Him and the world’s most important events that fulfilled his life and spared yours, His death and resurrection as your own.
John 3:16
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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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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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
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.
Where are we and what are we doing, in 39,000 words (or 39 pictures).
A lot of questions have come in regarding where we are at and what we are doing. Well the first one is much easier to answer than the latter. We are in the Guanacaste Region of Costa Rica in a little beach town called Playa Flamingo. It is a very quiet little community with a mild tourist population. There are a couple of small hotels and resorts and a lot of local eateries. The nearest gas station is about 20 minutes away and the nearest grocery store is about a 2 minute walk from our house. It is about a 5 minute walk to the closest beach, and about a 10-15 minute walk to one of our favorite beaches. It is very sparsely populated and there are quite a few ex-pats in the area. In nearby Brasilito, there is a good population of Ticos. You can view the following map to get an idea where we are at.
As far as what we are doing, well that’s a little trickier to answer. We don’t know. We know we are supposed to be here, but we don’t know what we are supposed to be doing. We are keeping our eyes and ears open and praying for direction and I am confident we will find it. Until then there is not a lack of things to keep us busy.
Our first grocery bill for the Super Mercado.
over 200,000 colones, that's a lotta dough in any country! Note the second to last item, Alaska ice cream made by the local Dos Pinos ice cream factory.
We have had to start shopping from scratch, had a lot of work done on the house, get schools situated, church situated, contact old friends, make new friends,get a car, get driver’s license, get a bank account and watch sunsets. We are still working to get into a groove and that will take a while, but we will enjoy the journey and deal with the humongous changes that we have incurred. One way to make it slightly easier is to explore the area around and enjoy the beaches, boogie boards,food and sunsets, which we have been attempting to do, as evidenced by the following picture gallery.
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Costa Rica Pura Vida le segunda parte ( part two)
I think I got the video issues worked out, finally. Now I must pre-worn you, if you don’t like monkey’s, you probably won’t like part two. For some reason, when I was making this, I went particularly heavy on the monkeys. I like monkeys. I call my kids monkeys. So I am not apologizing for the amount of monkeys, I am just warning that you will see quite a few monkeys. There are also some sunsets, sailboats, beaches and all that stuff. I was also able to upload the whole video in its entirety onto Dailymotion, so I have included that on here as well. So sit back relax and allow yourself to be swept away to the land of beaches, sun, rain forests and monkeys, lots of monkeys.
This is part two from the previous post
This is the whole video, both parts 1 and 2 combined.
PURA VIDA
A mountain of a trip, and a mountain of pictures
Kodiak, an Island of the southwest coast of Alaska was home to me. I will always have a fond place in my heart for “the rock” as it is known by those of us who frequent it. I know people who love it and I know people who hate it, but I don’t think I have ever heard any say “meh, it’s Okay”. Some people cannot stand the thought of the rain, remoteness and the possibility of being stranded days beyond your intended stay. I have been there. There are only two ways to Kodiak, the ferry and the air. I remember once when I was commercial fishing, waiting five days, five full days to get off that Island and go home to my wife. That was a time when I hated the rock. That was long before internet and cell phones, the days before lattes, facebook posts and twitter. So we just sat, sat , sat in the airport, me, my crew and about 200 other unwashed, stinking commercial fisherman, waiting for one day of decent, not good, just decent weather.
The view from our hosts, the Mortenson's
Mort , Sonya & Olivia, some of my favorite people.
Mom & Dad reliving some old memories at Fort Abercrombie
hanging on the old cannon at Abercrombie
old bunker at Abercrombie
The woods at Abercrombie
Ben picking salmonberries
Finally found something that quieted him up for a minute
posing in the Abercrombie woods
fences mean nothing to this family
mom & dad still reminiscing
But even that could not sour me on Kodiak. It is nearly impossible to beat Kodiak when the weather is nice; those three days are awesome! I know when we last lived there we loved it. We loved the pace of life, the beauty, the fishing and hunting, and our church. Shoot, we even got a Wal-Mart. It was a good life.
hey, I wanted a turn!
who let Jeremy drive?
Ensign?
My ladies
The newest attraction, 120 ft. blades on these bad boys. That'll keep you cool on them hot summer days.
view from the top of Pillar Mountain.
More Pillar Mt.
boyz on the Mt.
This time we were just going back for a visit. You see my dad was born and raised in Kodiak, and he went on to become Commissioner of the Dept. of Public Safety. He was very involved in native issues and did quite a bit for the native community. He was the first Alaska Native Commissioner and proud to be so. He died a few years ago, and since then a few of the native corporations made a move to name a Mountain after him, one in a bay where he and mom spent there last time together. So our trip was part of the celebration of the naming of this mountain. I, unfortunately, was on the committee planning this thing out. Had I the foresight to know what that would entail, I likely would’ve excused myself.
on the road to Pasagshak
Nana talking to her friends the seals. Alli learning the ways of her crazy elders.
Indiana Godfrey and his bullwhip of death. Don' t believe me, ask Ben where his left ear is.
One of us has a little less hair than the last time we were here.
she still likes me!
Notice the famous rocket launch tower in the background
scenes from the beach
more beach scenes
even more
Part of the committee job was travel, travel to get the family to and from Kodiak. Things were falling into place a little nicely and I should have known a curve ball, nay a sinking slider was upon us. The day they were supposed to arrive, our air transportation was cancelled. coincidently, this was the day prior to the event. Ahhh Kodiak you got me again! Myself and my family, understanding how this hearty island worked, we were there a week early on the ferry, so we were good to go. It was the other 18 people with which I had to deal with. Frantically, as fast as my fingers could pound the flat screen of my iphone, I was sending emails, making phone calls, and reading emails. Finally after hours and hours of heartache, indigestion, anxiety, stress and a little fear, we were able to make arrangements to get the family to the Island with hope, just hope of getting them home ( I of course did not tell them that). But I knew once I got them there, the rest would depend on the Island.
some of the buffalo
getting an early start on fine arts
watch out Jake!
Nana, Grandma and us
Dorian doing what he loves the most
nana doing her best at Lake Rose Tead
the kids? wading
Dorian may like fishing, but he don't like wading
here comes a big one
A scene from Baywatch!
run for your lives! or at least for your socks
cleaning up Papa's grave
I don’t want it to appear that the whole time was a stressful mess, just a few days of the trip. The rest of the time we explored the rock as if it was our first time. We hit up our favorite beaches, sites and mountains. Visited spots where Tra and I had dates, ate at new places and old, visited great friends and had a genuine good time. The first day of the ceremony went well, for most of it was indoors. The second day of the ceremony, well….. it didn’t happen. It was to involve a boat trip to the mountain to place a plaque. But when the weather is blowing Northeast 45, no one is too skippy to take a boat trip anywhere, especially the skippers of the boat. None-the-less, we made a day of it, again hitting the beaches, all 30 of us.
the most popular drummer
One of the dancers
The traditional mask that was built to be burnt.
The fire to burn the mask those logs are about 8 feet long
The beach we chose that day was Pasagshak, a beautiful forty minute drive through three Kodiak wind swept bays and over the mountains. There were horses, buffalo, salmon, bald eagles, deer and more spread along the way. After several stops, we arrived at the end of the road, our beach of choice.Upon unloading the crew, and doing a little beach combing, I sat on the beach, watching my kids playing in the surf, looking for fossils, exploring the WW II bunkers, and climbing every hill in sight; I breathed in the salt air, listened to the massive surf pound the beach, and felt the wind pressing against the back of my jacket, and I was in the moment in one of God’s greatest creations. Just then, a small, but fast raindrop pelted against my nose, and caused me to look up into the sky. I didn’t have to look up much, and I saw the low dark clouds hovering in a haze of foggy rain, and I realized that I had to figure how to get all these people home. At that moment I knew, the Island had got me once again. How many days this time Kodiak? Some things never change.
leaving scenes
Jake reflecting
Jake Reflecting
Nana, Grandma and their 20 grandkids and counting, color coded of course
Labor Day Weekend Part II. The long awaited sequel to Labor Day weekend part I
The next day we again ventured out into the briny sea, this time with the whole family in tow. Early to the high tide, the fishing was not nearly as productive, but everyone managed to catch something. Unfortunately, something more often than not, was a 50 pound skate or a feisty little dogfish shark. Somehow, I don’t think the little ones minded too much, except for dad who had to wrangle each and every one of them off the circle hooks. I made a bit of an art of it after a dozen or so attempts, and a few cuts, and a few crushed fingers from those blasted skates.
A shark.....
... a skate........
.....my hot date!
To the little ones, a picture with a shark or skate was much more exciting than a stinking halibut anyway. Although before the trip was over, Alli landed a 30 lb. prize, followed by Jeremy and his 50 pounder, added to the halibut of day one, we ended up with enough meat for even our family.
I have no clue.
Shyla on the boat doing the same thing she does at home
Alli on the boat doing the same thing she does at home.
While fishing, the fog come upon us without warning and we had to rely on our old fashioned navigation, the gps. It guided us right back to spit. After a vessel and fish cleaning session, we grabbed some pizza at Starvin Marvin’s and headed back to home sweet home. That night, cuddled up and cramped, we ate some home made popcorn and played games while sitting on top of each other.
that's a rod bender there.
more bow poses
Jake chillin
kids kissin
dad drivin
Jeremy fishin
dad gaffin
Jeremy posin
Instant Foggin
That night the kids retreated to their exclusive loft, which managed to sleep each and every one of them. The downfall, the loft was right above our room, so every shift of weight, walk to the bathroom, or acrobatic bed jump, flexed the roof above our bed and sounded as if Dorian’s halibut from the day prior was flopping around on top of us.
our humble abode
our view
their loft
We finished our mini vacation to the south with some stream fishing on the way home. There wasn’t much in the way of catching, just fishing and bug fighting but opportunity for lots of pictures and hopefully some memories. The trip ended with unpacking of twice as much stuff as we packed. I still don’t get how that happens. Every trip, every time, even when we do no shopping and eat everything we packed, we come back with at least twice as much stuff. I equate that to the mystery of missing laundry socks.
Anchor River fishing
jakey working the Nemo pole
Ben fishing?
Alli in B&W
Kachemak Bay
still working that Nemo pole and mohawk
looking for fish, not catching, just looking
All things considered, the trip was a lot of fun for a mini vacation 90 minutes from home. Next time though, we won’t pack as much stuff.
Jake found a ride home
I’m real sorry.
Knowing what to say to someone who is living through a storm has always been a struggle for me. I never know what to say to someone who’s had a close one die, get badly injured, or any tragedy. I desire to be sincere in my words, but also trying to be original. So this last couple of times I have been trying to pay attention to what encourages me, or what I like to hear people say. I remember right after my dad died I would be contacting people out in the field, and there in bright gold right above my heart was my name on my bullet proof vest. It was almost like a neon sign blinking, begging for someone to ask…. you’re not related to the Godfrey that got killed are you? The first few times it caught me off guard and I fumbled around with my words, ignoring the unsuspecting sportsman, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered what they would say if I said yes. So me being me that’s what I started to do. “Yes, that was my dad” was my standard response. Then I just waited in silence. Almost instantly you could see the blood drain from their face. Now what? What do I say? I would just look at them in silence, curious what would come out of their mouth. Usually it was stammering, followed by “I’m really sorry about that”. The standard response. I would reply with “yeh, me too” and then get right back to business. This taught me a lesson regarding the words that emanate from my mouth, or the double edged sword.
Jo with Jellybean, her birthday rabbit (still don't know if it is a boy or girl)
Our happy girl
wore out after a great birthday party
This latest experience caused me to reflect on what people have said to me when I have been going through the absolute lows of my life. I wanted to know so I would know what to say to others when it was my turn to attempt to comfort them. I must say, I really liked hearing “we’ll be praying for you” , especially from people that I knew were not just saying it, people who said it and I knew they would hit their knees, probably cry, and pray from their very soul and being. When they say they are going to pray for you, that means something, that inspires, that gives you hope and encouragement. You know they are top friends on God’s facebook, and he listens to them. I have been fortunate to know a lot of those people.
Zoolander (or Jeremy/ Jerms as we call him)
cousin Gunnar at Grandpa's funeral
Grandpa's burial site, overlooking Homer. (Not his cross)
But upon reflecting, the most memorable, the most inspiring, the one that I will likely never forget was not from a close friend of mine. It was right after I wrote the “at what cost blog” . This giant of a man, an acquaintance but not a close friend, found me when I was sitting by myself. He walked up to me grabbed my hand, looked me directly in the eyes, I could see the tears bulging and sparkling in his eyes, I could feel his hand trembling and see his chest heaving a little as he struggled to maintain his manly demeanor. He ,being a father of young kids, looked right into me and whispered one word with his voice crackling and trembling “dads”. That is all he said, that was all he had to say. I knew right then that he truly felt for me, perhaps he could not relate exactly to what I was feeling, but he definitely felt for me. So with one word, a man, and acquaintance, perhaps touched me more than any other condolence I have ever received.
Jake and Jo, brother and sister forever
Asia, Aevry, McKenzie and Jo ( probably all spelled wrong)
Love's riding in daddy's car ( he drives faster than mommy, but not over the speed limit!)
In conclusion: Only 30% of conversation is the actual words spoken. Therefore, what you say isn’t nearly as important as to how you say it, show that you really mean it, that you mean what you are saying and if you say you will pray, pray and pray earnestly. I am not saying you have to cry or well up, but just be sincere.
Extremely sick during Grandpa's funeral, and days to follow.
How about you? What has worked for you? What have you said or has someone spoken to you that comforted you? Please share so that we could all learn from your insights.
four minutes fun, 296 minutes of waterboarding?
Recitals, recitals, recitals. I have noticed that I spend a lot of time at recitals. This spring it is a little different. You see now that Alli is out with injury, just Olivia and Kassie are left holding the Godfrey flag in the world of dance. I love watching them dance, but I do have a couple of small complaints. In a two and 1/2 hour recital, why do I have to watch 2 hours and 28 minutes of everybody else’s kids dancing to see my kids 2 minute dance? It’s not that I don’t enjoy dance…. well okay maybe it is that I don’t enjoy dance. But I do enjoy watching my kids perform in anything. Maybe we could implement a take a number type of thing. You go in, take a number, and when your kid is on the stage that number comes up. You walk in sit down clap your fool head off and call it a night. Now that is a recital I would love to attend.
Another issue is the heat. I do not think it could be stuffier or hotter in that auditorium. The show is free, of great quality, and in a small town that equates to 300-400 hot bodies in the seats, and another hundred dancers heating the place up from their sweaty dancing. So there is naturally generated heat, which seems to often be accompanied by an odor for some odd reason, and not pleasant.
Not only did I get to do this Saturday for Olivia, but Sunday for Kassie as well. So that would be 4 minutes of my kids for 5 hours of dance. Post lunch, Sunday afternoon, darkness,heat and music all mix together to make a great nap time for dad.
None the less, I am very proud of all my girls. They are awesome and they have some great smiles and they did a great job dancing this weekend. It was all Alli could to do sit in the seat. In fact she danced every one of her dances while sitting in her seat, and at one point got up and danced a jig in sync with her dance crew on stage, except she was back in the doorway. I feel bad for her after the hundreds of hours she put into practice and two weeks before the big show, her knee gives out. And I feel bad for me, cuz if Alli was able to dance then I would have got to enjoy about 60 minutes of dance out of 5 hours. Poor me, at least I still have soccer and soon you will too…. on this blog.
2009 Group Dance Photo
Kodak Moment = Orlando Trip
For those of you that don’t fb with us ( and if you have to ask what fb means then it is obvious you don’t fb with us. A conundrum I know) I thought I would share with you that Dorian recently entered some of his photography in the Fine Arts competition ( I think it is called a competition) in Anchorage. There are many categories in this competition, singing, drama, instrumental prowess, bands etc. You enter, perform or display your mighty fine art and you are judged by Puala, Randy and Simon. Simon can be a bit persnickety at time, but he means well. Okay, maybe those aren’t the judges but I am sure the judges there are just as “qualified”.
Once again I digress. Dorian entered one of his pictures and he got a “superior” with an invite to nationals. Now I must confess, I was not sure what this meant when Pastor Ryan relayed this information to me. I wasn’t sure if it was like the Boy’s and Girl’s club where everyone gets a medal and everyone was the MVP and we never ever lose a game. It must be the coaching. But apparently a “superior” is much harder to come by then a B&G club medal, of which I have many, because unlike the Olympics, the coaches do get medals in the B&G club. You get judged, the points are added up and you have to reach a certain score. If you make the grade, you get an invite to nationals, which happens to be in Orlando in August.
Now, for those of you that have feasted on this blog from the beginning (Niki) you know that I have posted some of Dorian’s pics in the past. You also may have caught the fact that we once, not long ago, ventured as a family to Orlando (see the ” I know it is not 2009 Christmas Letter” tab at the top of the page) and single handedly booked every seat on AK Airlines in the process. So I would say the blog has come full circle. Now, Tracy and I are still having a friendly debate over which one of us should proudly escort out son on his trip to Orlando, and I believe I have the edge. Although I am not sure I am man enough to bare the liquid heat dripping from my shiny noggin during that time of year. None-the-less, for my son, I will suck it up and sacrifice my pleasure to join him. That’s the type of guy I am.
So I say all this to let you know that today I am posting some of Dorian’s pics for you to enjoy. He has always loved taking pictures and has a very nice camera which he can work magic with. So all the pics in today’s post were taken by Dorian, edited by Dorian, and admired by Dorian. Please enjoy.
Redoubt still steaming away
P.S. if you haven’t already you should check out some of our friends on the blogroll to the right. This week I would like to highlight “see brad run”, he is good people (read his blog of the same title!!)
