johnomadic

In Transit

The fountain in San Jose where two of the walking streets meet.

The flap and I made it to San Jose yesterday, but not in time to catch a bus to Grenada.  The plan is to head up to Grenada and spend the night there.  There are elections in contention in Nicaragua, and in the capital, Managua, there have been some violent clashes between supporters of the incumbent president and the possible new one.  So we'll head up to Granada, which is not so far north as Managua, get a feel there for how things might be farther north... then decide whether to steer towards the beach or check out Managua.  As for me, I really want to go to Managua.

I like travelling with the flap... we maybe have a meal or something, then break off and do our own thing, or whatever.  Last night he went out on his own... whoever the Costa Rican equivalent of Montezuma is has been having his revenge on me, so I stayed in and I think slept it off.  Good thing, because I'm about to be on a bus for seven hours.

Alajuela

That's where I really ended up these past few days, in Alajuela, just outside of San Jose.  I like to say it out loud:  Alajuela, Alajuela, Alajuela.

I took a bus from San Isidro to San Jose.  I would have taken another bus from San Jose to Alajuela, but the bus terminals were far apart and I didn't feel much like walking.  A taxi it was... and though I should have taken a taxi from one bus terminal to the next, I took it all the way to Alajuela... too expensive, I should know better.

Still, somehow I managed to have a conversation in Spanish with the driver.  I understood about eighty percent of what he said, which was quite strange.  I was sitting there thinking, why is it that I can understand him so well?  Maybe he was being easy on me, with simple words.

Volcanic rock is cut and used as pavers here.  In this shot, the steps on the right are volcanic rock.

I was to meet Kristen and Mary there, but arrived a few hours before them.  So I dropped my stuff at the hotel, and went off to wander.  I like the town... the streets are more narrow than in San Isidro, and it gives it a nice intimate feel.  The main park in town has no traffic, when strolling by at night you mostly hear conversations.

Heavy rain fell not long after I started wandering, and I took refuge in a church for a couple hours.  I had plenty of time to take multiple pictures so that, I dunno, maybe I would get one that wasn't blurry... but I didn't, so this is what you get!  When I think of folks coming into Catholic churches and signing the cross and all, I think of older people doing so.  But not here, mostly it was people younger than me coming to pray.

The next day was coffee plantation tour day...

First, you pick the beans off of the bush...

Soak them for a bit in water, which makes the outer shell a little weaker and helps to sort out the bad ones.  Then run the beans through a machine that removes the outer shell...

While the beans dry in the sun before roasting (the different strengths of coffee, from a mild morning blend to a dark roast, is determined purely by the amount of time you roast the beans), you might look at some flowers:

or some interesting tree bark:

or maybe have a look at trees from two sides of the earth at once:

The next day we went to Poas National Park, where there is a volcano crater, and it was essentially a bust.  Cold blowing rain, not much to do but drink coffee at the snack bar and watch the instructional video a couple times.  We did try though, and were there not clouds in the background in this shot, you would see a very impressive volcano crater filled by an acidic lake behind the girls:

I did get some earth activity in though... I was awake for and felt this:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7736933.stm
My first earthquake!

Looks like I'll be with the flap in Nicaragua tomorrow, after a brief consideration of Panama.  Maybe a night in Granada, and it sounds like there's going to be some beach involved.  I have no idea what kind of internet access I'm going to see over the next few days, but I'll try.  Until then...

Small Things

One of the days that I was out in the garden, I followed one of the trails on the property to where two little streams meet in a grotto.  I just sat there on a rock for a while, watching everything around me.  Here are a few things that I saw:

Lichen on a tree near a waterfall.

Flowers.

Some tiny mushrooms.

This little guy could fit comfortable on my pinky fingernail.

Ferocious Beasts

I am really impressed with the pets out in the garden.  They are never tied up, caged or restricted in any way... they roam around the valley as they please.  Yet they will come with you on a hike, or stop by at the volunteer house for some lovin'.  They are alert to the cloud forest... always listening, sniffing, watching.

This is Chacho, still wet from the rain.  I love this dog... smart, bouncy and playful, knows how to shift from rough-housing to being pet.  He belongs to Andy and Michelle, who have a place just up the road, and who had their first baby on Tuesday.

This is Wu Li, sitting on top of her food crate.  FEED ME!  She is very much like Max, a cat I used to have, because she acts like a dog.  On my tour of the property that first day, Wu Li tagged along the whole time, through the rain and all.

Mana...

...and Sadie. These dogs belong to Drennan and Pamela... they also will follow along wherever you go. They show up at the volunteer house sometimes, friendly dogs.

Some scenes from San Isidro

This is the cathedral in the middle of town, facing the central park.  The parked is usually crowded in the evening, with people sitting on the concrete benches.  There is a small carnival set up in front of the cathedral... at night, from my little balcony, I can hear the kids screaming on the Kamikaze.

The farmer's market is every Thursday on the south side of town.  I think I'm going to be looking forward to every Thursday as if it were the weekend.  All the gringos come in from wherever they are tucked away around the valley to stock up on food for the week, and if I hang out there long enough, I'm bound to bump into someone that I've met.  It's just nice to talk to someone every now and then, without having to struggle for language.

This past Thursday, I saw Mudflap there.  His visa is about to run out, so he's going to make a border run next week to Nicaragua.  He has invited me to go.  Hmm, let's see... a nice cheap run to Nicaragua with a guy who's fluent in Spanish... sweet, I'm going!

Sunrise from my apartment this morning, pay no mind to the power lines.  Most of San Isidro is outside of this picture, down a little to the right.  The sun comes up just before six in the morning, and sets at about six in the evening.  I'm still getting used to the rhythyms around here, Ticos get up early to get some work in before the rains come in the early afternoon.

This is where I had breakfast this morning (as well as spilling coffee in my lap, brilliant), and where I've had a meal for the previous three days as well... Soda Popeye, in the central market.  I was just wandering around in the market the first time I ate there, daydreaming a little, when I heard someone say hello.  Buenas.  I looked over to see the four people who were working in the soda all smiling at me, so I figured that was the place to be.  This morning the cook gave me a large thin patacon, just so I could try it.  This is why I want to stick in one place for a while, so I can get to know people and nice little things like that happen.  That's Hilda on the right, reading the newspaper... she's the boss.

An average street downtown.  Go up the hill there a little, make a right and go a block, and there's my apartment.

I'm off to San Jose this afternoon for a couple days.  I've got two more little posts I'm about set up to publish on Sunday and Monday.  In the meantime, send me an email, hmm?  Let me know what's going on in your life.  How are you liking the posts?  Any favorites?  Any that put you to sleep?

The email is johnomadic -at- yahoo -dot- com

The Cloud Forest

That's how I'm going to refer to it from now on: the cloud forest.  The word jungle implies oppressive heat to me, but it's much cooler here than I would have guessed.  And while the word rainforest most certainly applies, it's the clouds that dominate.

They are the gatekeepers of the sun, sometimes allowing it full reign over the forest in the morning, other times restricting it's rays to only a brief glimpse of the land below.  The clouds can form in a ceiling above, making the earth seem closer, or they can mingle with the trees, creating a heavy mist.  The can also flow in the valleys between the mountains, and from above the sound of the rains that they bring can be mistaken for a rushing river.

Nestled in the midst of this, near the end of a dirt road where electricity arrived within the past few years, and where going to the little store in San Salvador is referred to as going to the pavement, is Pura Suerte.

The water that the clouds bear and release is a constant presence here.  Wet clothes hung over a railing may take days to approach being dry.  Matresses smell musty.  Cigarettes are kept in the freezer else they come too saturated to smoke.  Pages of books from the little library must be turned delicately, their fibers weakened by moisture.  The greatest luxury here is not a hammock of a hunk of chocolate... but clean, dry clothes to change into after a day's hike in the rain.

This plot of land belongs to Drennan, who bought it several years ago, while in his early twenties.  Then, it was just the building that was once used for processing sugarcane.  Since, he has added a woodshed, a handful of guest houses, a restaurant, a home for himself and his girlfriend Pamela, and last year a dorm for the student groups that come from the states in the high season.  He was pivotal in bringing electricity to the valley, and the locals respect him for improving the quality of life here.

I met Drennan the afternoon that I arrived.  The taxi driver dropped me off at his house, after an hour's drive from San Isidro with a few stops for directions, by way of a winding road where the weather could change from one valley to the next.  He gave me a lift down to the volunteer house, where he wanted to see what seeds I had brought from the states.  He was in the middle of something back at his house when I arrived, so he soon left me with this summation:  Treat this place as if it were your own.

The next day Mudflap took me on a tour of the property.  He has been here for nearly a year, long enough that he is now essentially directing the volunteers that show up.  He showed me the trails, and we talked while he used a machete to clear tall grasses from the trees and plants he wanted to promote the growth of.

While I think the ideal of self-sustainablility is still alive here, where you grow everything you need to live, that ideal has been supplanted by other priorities.  There is no grove of bamboo to be harvested, the horses pictured on the website have long since been sold.  Instead of the thriving farm that I imagined, there are a handful of gardens with ongoing experiments to see what grows and what doesn´t.  It seems that the main source of income is the student groups, which means that a considerable amount of effort that could be focused on growing things is instead used for groundskeeping.

That night, Drennan came by to drop off some supplies.  Mudflap, or any other volunteer who stays here, has to rely heavily on Drennan to bring food.  The gardens just don't produce enough.  He sat on the bench outside the front door and I stood nearby.

"How are you settling in?"

I shrugged.  He watched me intently with a wry smile while I searched for words for everything I had seen and thought that day.  But before I found them, he asked, "Need some space for your old life to unravel in your head?"

I nodded, "Yes, exactly."

We renegotiated the terms under which I was staying.  I wanted time to look at all these new things, and time just to sit and think.  I can only imagine what inner journeys a few years alone in the forest can lead you on, but I think Drennan has travelled them.  When speaking about personal matters, he has an almost business-like demeanor, like an old pro who no longer sees the need to waste words.

For me to live in the cloud forest for several months like I had intended, it would be an act of love and devotion.  There is so much to learn... what you can and cannot eat, all the new sounds to know and the ability to recognize what makes them, how to prepare a meal with new fruits and vegetables.  Then there are also circumstances to deal with... relying on another for basic staples, the moisture, living in isolation with one other person.  I like Mudflap a lot, but there are very few people who I would choose to live like this with.

I can see myself maybe someday offering up that kind of love for this place, it's beautiful and there's much to be done, but for now I just want to flirt.

Settling in

I've slept in the apartment for a few nights now, and it's starting to feel like home.  The last apartment I had, in Ardmore, was also on a somewhat busy street.  But here, instead of car stereos blasting, it's motocross bikes that sometimes set off the neighbor's car alarm.  Instead of the truck that thunders through like a freight train at 4:30 every morning, here it's the occasional ground shaking bus.  But no matter, I'm used to these things, and I already sleep soundly through the night.

However, somewhere in the neighborhood is a small yippy dog who likes to bark.  Sure, there are other dogs around... a doberman across the street and another large dog a few houses over.  They have deep authoritative barks, the kind that a guy can respect.  But not this little yippy dog... sadly, I think I'm going to have to kill it.  Maybe a piece of meat laced with some sort of poison?  Or perhaps throw it under a passing bus and claim a tragic mishap.  ¡Si si, accidente, no hablo español!  Yeah, I could whip up a few tears for that, for sure.

I almost have everything I need for the apartment.  Kristen and Mary, before moving on to Dominical and Quepos, helped me pick up a few things.  As we stood in one store, me with knives, forks, spoons and a cutting board, Kristen held up a kit.  Bundled together were a plastic dish drying rack, cups and I think a few other things.

"You need this", she stated.

Not feeling like I spending spree, I declined.  But I did need that.  And so it begins: Yes dear, you were right.  Damned if I can't find that store again.

Yesterday I picked up a few more things.  I went to a store with pots and pans in the window, and the woman behind the counter asked me if I needed help, I think.

"Para la cocina."  For the kitchen.

She smiled and led me up to the second floor of the store, where I picked out a frying pan, a pot and a spatula.  A row of pillows suitable for a couch was near the wall of cooking things.

I touched one and asked, "¿Tiene para dormir?"

She led me to the pillows, lined up on a shelf like books and held in place with an elastic cord.  I squeezed each and decided on one, pulled it down and held it in front of her.

"¿Y la ropa?"  And the clothes?

She asked if I needed a pillow case or sheets for the whole bed.  By morning, the sheet that Patricia gave me isn´t anywhere close to where it started the night before, so a fitted sheet would be nice.  Yes, let's go for the whole set.  Patricia's sheet now covers a window, offering a little privacy.

All set with my purchases, we headed back downstairs to the register.  The woman who helped me find things started writing up a receipt while another began putting things into a bag.  I looked at the receipt... Olla, 31,500 colones.  I pointed to where she had written Olla.

"¿Que esta?"  What is this?

I'm not sure if it's the proper way to ask, but hey, it worked... she pointed to the pot.  Sixty bucks for a cooking pot?  I think not.  I didn´t even have that much on me, which was my excuse.  I fanned out the cash that I had.

"No tengo dinero.  Hasta luego, olla."  I don´t have money.  See you later, cooking pot.

I waved goodbye to the pot, one of the women giggled.

Another thing I´ve been looking for is a bookstore.  I've crisscrossed all of downtown San Isidro I think, with no luck.  However I did notice a stand the other day, not unlike the newspaper stands in Philly, this one kept by an overweight man in need of a shower and a shave.  I suppose that's not so unlike Philly, either.

"Buenas."
"Buenas."
"¿Tiene usted diccionario de español y ingles?"

He rummaged around inside the stand, and pulled out a beast of a dictionary, hardcover and a good five inches thick.  My intention is to boost my vocabulary by translating the front page of the newspaper every day, preferably while sitting in a soda or some similar place.  No way I was going to lug that thing around, so I waved him off.

"¿Mas pequeño?"

He rummaged around a bit more, and pulled out a paperback dictionary.  Bingo!  I wanted to do a little dictionary dance right there on the sidewalk.  I bargained with him for it, and for about eight dollars I am now in possession of what may very well be the only paperback version of Merriam-Webster's Spanish-English dictionary in all of San Isidro.

Just a few more things now and I´ll be set: a pot that costs less than sixty dollars, a few bowls and plates, a radio.

Getting there!  The table moved to the main room.

My mom asks in an email: Is there a reason you didn't show us the bathroom?. Like maybe there isn't one?  There is one:

The shower... John's john lower left and the sink upper right.

The shower head.  From what I can tell, water heaters are a rarity around here.  This electric heating element heats water on demand... slower waterflow means hotter water.

I need to know about rice and beans... they have never been a part of my regular diet, so I'm pretty much clueless about them.  But they're a staple down here, so I better get on that.  So if any of you can fill me in in the comments, it would be much appreciated.  Is it two parts water, one part rice?  For how long?  I've had some rice that had something tasty added to it, it gave the rice a yellowish color... what was that?  I've seen different brands of rice... are there different types to go along with that?  Do you have to soak the beans overnight or something?  Then what?  Thanks...

And the skipper too...

The woodshed where I worked... if you look, you can see the chop saw.

Working out at Pura Suerte is not unlike being on an island.  If you think you need something, you can't just make a quick run to Home Depot and get it.  It's an hour to get to San Isidro from here, so you try to make do with what you have.  I got a lesson in making do, I was missing some tools that would have made things a bit easier.

My first project was a little something to make Mudflap's life easier.  He would literally be on his hands and knees, sifting through the soil by hand for rocks that were too large.  I decided that the man needed a sifter, and here it is:

Mudflap with his new sifter and workbench.

He can park the wheelbarrow underneath, and pour some dirt in the crate.  The crate slides back and forth on two thin wooden slats...

The legs of the frame are cut into points, you can put a little weight on the cross pieces and shimmy it into place.

And you can just pick up the crate to dump out the big rocks...

Not bad for a gringo whose only tools were a chop saw, a hacksaw and a small sledgehammer, eh?

The wood down here is a little different, and I'm not yet sure what to make of it.  The wood that I'd be using up north would have come from trees with growing seasons.  That means the wood has a pronounced grain, and it's something that you look at when judging a cut or where a nail goes.  Down here, things grow all year, so no grain to look at.

The woods do things I don't understand.  One type is so hard that it will not give to nails and I might bend 3 or 4 before one gets through (although using a small sledge for a hammer probably had something to do with that).  And another type of wood just simply would not hold a nail.  I tried to build a frame for the workbench top out of that wood, and it would literally fall apart when I picked it up.

I picked up a hammer and some proper nails when Kristen, Mary and I went to San Isidro to watch the election results, and having a hammer was a big improvement.  I was able to build a workbench for the garden:

The legs are made of bamboo, and this bench was the first time I used it for anything.  Mudflap cut it down for me only a couple days before.  You also have to clean some fuzz off of the bamboo before you use it, otherwise it burrows into your skin and is quite the annoyance for a couple days.  I think I have to get used to not having right angles when using this stuff, but I'm curious about how to work with it.  This bamboo was still somewhat fresh and wet when I was working with it, and each pound of the hammer sounded like musical notes.

There are other things I'll be doing to make Mudflap's life easier... I expect I'll head back to the garden a few times in the coming months and build some more stuff.

Children of Paradise

Mary leads the way to the waterfall.

A four month long journey was born in instant messages between two college friends, one in San Francisco and one in Chicago.  It probably went something like this:

socialworkitbaby: hey
phillychicKK75: hey, what's up?
socialworkitbaby: i'm bored
phillychicKK75: me too.  time for another cross country trip?
socialworkitbaby: f that noise, we're going worldwide!

And so, Kristen, a 33-year-old second grade teacher, and Mary, a 35-year-old social worker, began to form a plan.  They would raise money from friends and family, and give of themselves as volunteers around the world.  Habitat for Humanity in Hungary, tsunami relief in Thailand, teaching English in Cambodia, and more.  I haven't yet had a chance to read up on what they've done, but if you like, you can do so here.

The final part of their journey outside the states would bring them to Pura Suerte, where they arrived four days after I did.  Initially it was just me and Mudflap, so then there were four.

When together, Kristen and Mary remind me a lot of my father's sisters.  My aunts, Kathy and Sue, have seen their fair share of the things in life that can break you, yet they still know how to find a piece of joy.  On the occasions that I see them together, be it a wedding or a Michigan game, they are both clever and silly, always laughing and never letting my dad get away with any BS.  Some strong women, my aunts.

I see some of that relationship in the friendship between Mary and Kristen, they are sisters to my eyes.  They too are at once clever and silly, with inside jokes created by four months of travelling together.

The three of us went for a hike one afternoon after the day's work was done.  Mudflap had told us of a waterfall, and we were off to find it.  At one point the trail crossed a wide stream, and after scouting a little ways up and downstream, we decided the best way to get to the other side was to take off our shoes and wade.  Part way in, it became clear that I would need my hands to brace myself from going for a swim, so I tossed my boots to the other side like horseshoes.  Kristen was next... a late release and her shoe went vertical, then sploosh into the water.  Then Mary, doubled over laughing, managed to throw just short of the far bank with both of her shoes.

Kristen waits for her shoe to float downstream.

I learned a lot of respect for the cloud forest on that hike... the effort requires to simply walk downhill into the valley, and the leg burning climb back out; the patience needed for slippery rocks; the acceptance of being wet and eventually liking the feeling of being soaked to the skin.  I think there are some who would have been inconvenienced or even annoyed at what the forest had to offer that day... but not us, because in the midst of it all we were laughing without inhibition, like children of paradise.

A new spot

Last night Andres came to get me, with a refridgerator and a stove in the bed of his pickup, Fernando's wife and three kids in the back seat.  Music blaring and Andres yelling into his mobile, we took off.  People were honking and yelling at us in Spanish, the freezer door is open!  All ignored by Andres.

We got to the apartment, Andres and I unloaded the appliances and then went to grab the bed.  We drove to someone's house, and went out back to what I think was the grandfather's apartment behind the it.  He was in there on his rocking chair about five feet away from the TV, and the bed frame was behind him.  They literally slid grandpa out of the way, still in his rocking chair.  I was horrified, be careful with Grandpa!

Then we got the mattress out of the kid's room, there were two mattresses on the top bunk bed, one of them is now in my apartment.  Later, Fernando showed up with a table and four chairs.  Patricia, his wife, kindly gave me a blanket and a few towels.

So here's the new spot.  It's on the edge of downtown San Isidro, and seems to be perfectly safe.  Mine is the one center left with the little balcony, above the electric meters (and dangit, I forgot to bring that chair inside).

Here's what it looks like inside the first gate, my door is last on the right.

I have two rooms, this is the kitchen with the little table.

And this is the main room.  Yup, that's the bed.

Other than that, I literally don't have a pot to, well, you know.  And I'm very happy.

I know I've jumped around a lot in the past days with my posts, talking about folks before I've introduced them.  And I still have yet to describe Pura Suerte and why I'm not there at the moment.  That'll be the first thing on my list when I get back from the jungle, which is where I'm going right after I post this.  In the meantime, here are some more pics from there...

Chacho, the neighbor's dog, coming in from the rain.

For those of you that don't know, I have an email list and I send out an email when I put a larger post up or make a move.  If you want to be on that list, let me know... johnomadic -at- yahoo -dot- com.