Who's the Bosque?

This week's adventure was a trip to the bosque nuboso, or cloud rainforest, at Monteverde. After a five-hour drive from the city, we arrived at our hotel at sunset and immediately took pictures. The hotel, about a mile above sea level, looked out over the surrounding mountains and offered a view of the Pacific Ocean, about 20 miles away (it's the slightly brighter sliver just above the mountains on the left side of the pic).

Friday night was spent chilling at the hotel bar until about ten; the next morning our adventures would begin early. I awoke at 6:00 am to go on a rainforest canopy tour. By zip-line. The longest line was about 600 meters long, and was suspended 80 meters above a creek bed between two giant hills. Needless to say, it was epic.

That afternoon, we visited local museums about bats and frogs. The next morning was equally epic. We hiked through the rainforest. Unfortunately, we didn't see any animals in the forest though we had found both a tree snake and a sloth at the hotel.

All in all, an awesome trip. You can find more pictures of the rainforest on my Facebook page, but maybe not because I think I broke Facebook. Or at least its photo application. Next weekend I'm off to a volcano, so expect more photos then.

Pura vida,

Eric

¿Cómo?

Just got back from my first Curso con Ticos, my only class with local students: Spanish Writing and Style. ¡Qué horror! I barely hung on to the roller coaster that was the professor's lecture as he cruised along at 500 words per minute up the steep climbs and around the sharp turns of the Spanish language. And he was only explaining the syllabus. For two hours.

At one point he was talking about the difference in writing styles of two local papers, La Nación (legit) and La Extra (sensationalist). I understood perfectly what they were. Then he asked me if I knew what they were. I stared at him dumbfounded, like an iguana, precariously situated in the middle of a narrow mountain highway, watching as a tourbus brimming with beachbound gringos barrels towards it at a speed breaking not only Costa Rican but also God's traffic laws.

Even worse, he was the only person in that classroom I could halfway understand. The other students all spoke as if they were participating in a contest to see who could stuff the most marshmallows in their mouth; I don't think I heard one of them enunciate a single consonant.

The class should be fun though. I have to find 15 errors in local newspapers, write a few essays, do a CEPA evaluation (I have no idea what that is...), participate in some in-class foros (don't know what they are either, and they're next week...), and not get discouraged.

Going to email the professor all of my questions about the class now. Thank God it's the weekend. Off to the mountains tomorrow, so I'll update with pictures Sunday night or Monday.

Pura vida,
Eric

Blame It (On the Alcohol)

Perhaps the biggest difference I've noticed so far between Americans and Ticos is their attitude toward alcohol. Americans think it's a big deal; Ticos don't. The drinking age here is 18, perhaps a reason for the difference. A couple funny observances:

1) Our guide, a well-educated curator of a local museum, was sipping straight tequila out of a small flask called a whiskera on the bus to the beach. No big.

2) In class, our sixty-something lit professor asked us if we liked beer. She told us she preferred Bacardi cause it didn't make her go to the bathroom as much. So what?

3) I learned there's an important festival here coming up on Thursday. Apparently more beer is consumed there than at any other festival besides Oktoberfest. A bunch of the host families are going with their kids. It's whatever.

Despite the alcohol culture, no one really gets trashed. It sure will be frustrating returning to the States.

Glossary of Terms

Some words you should know before continuing to read:

Tico(a) - Costa Ricans' nickname for themselves

Ticamama - Host mother

Tiquismo - A Costa Rican slang word

Pura vida - A tiquismo meaning "pure life" that represents the laid-back Costa Rican mindset. Can be used to mean "Hey", "goodbye", "ciao", "you're welcome", or really anything.

Gallo pinto - Ubiquitous rice and bean dish. Delicious.

Colones - Local currency. The rate fluctuates between 550 and 600 colones to a dollar.

Montelimar - My neighborhood in San Jose

The Beach Is Back: or Fish Jaco

After a second day of orientation, the group of my classmates from my neighborhood (which I will dub the Montelimar Neighborhood Watch Association) hastily decided to go to the beach. Which beach and how? We did not know. Luckily, one of our Ticamama's sons just happened to be going to "the beach" too and he agreed to escort us. We threw some clothes into backpacks, called a cab, and clambered on to a bus at la Coca-Cola (the main bus terminal in San Jose, so named for the once-abandoned factory it now occupies).

We wound through the mountains on narrow roads for more than two hours before we reached Jaco, the city nearest our beach on the Pacific Ocean. We later found the city to be flush with American tourists and the restaurants that cater to them (e.g. los Pizza Huts), but we were headed to tiny Playa Hermosa: still lots of Americans, but at least no Taco Bell. Our bus was traveling through to Quepos, the next city, and Playa Hermosa had no stop of its own. After we realized we had passed the beach, we had the bus driver drop us off on the highway. And we walked.

We arrived at the black sand beach a short kilometer or two later.

We needed to find a room first so we could change and put away our bags. Unfortunately, all the cabinas with $15 rooms were full; we were forced to upgrade to a condo with an ocean view.

The rest of the day and this morning were spent swimming, exploring the nearby rocks, laying in the sun, and watching the surfers. We also feasted on fish tacos, Pilsen (seemingly the cheap Tico beer of choice) and banana pancakes. I resisted all temptation to play Jack Johnson on my iPod.

The end of the trip proved to be less than exciting. The afternoon bus to San Jose had standing room only, so we paid $3 a ticket for an uncomfortable ride back to the city. But for <$50 trip to the beach for a day, ¡vale la pena!

Pura vida,

Eric

Everything Is Slightly Ridiculous: Parte Dos

First full day in San J. After a bit of university orientation we took a walking tour downtown. There were people everywhere selling telephone cards on the street, pushing through the crowds to be on time to work, and feeding the pigeons in la Plaza de la Cultura. I would have pictures for you but I left my camera at home. Something about walking around in a group of 25 gringos loudly speaking English made me uneasy carrying anything valuable about.

I do have for your viewing enjoyment, however, a couple of pictures from the airport bus yesterday.

A view of San Jose from the highway above and a lovely mural below.

Solidaridad...the Jesuits must have been here. My house is also awesome. Following the Spanish style, the house is built around a courtyard, which my room overlooks.

My room also looks out over the mountains. It's a much better view without the clouds.

Class starts on Monday, so I'll write again then!

Pura vida,

Eric

Everything Is Slightly Ridiculous

My day is currently entering its 19th hour. After a 4:00 am alarm and an hour-long drive through subzero temperatures, I arrived to the airport two hours early. The flights went well, nothing was delayed too long, and I arrived at San Jose at about 2:30 this afternoon. The flight would have gone even better if I could have ordered a margarita while listening to steel drum bands on my iPod as we passed over the Caribbean. Alas, the plane was subject to US laws, not Costa Rican.

Exiting the airport, I stepped into the sunny, 70 degree weather. Then things got crazy. A few highlights of my day:

1) Traffic. New York plus LA times ten. With motorcycles buzzing around between lanes, buses and cars constantly cutting one another off, and no one observing the speed limit, I was shocked I did not bear witness to a single death. I am terrified to go anywhere.

2) Spanish. I think I've made up more words than I've used correctly. But I managed to have an hour-long political discussion with my host mom Nina over dinner. Apparently, some people here think 9/11 was a government conspiracy targeting Latinos? Strange.

3) Toilet Paper. The pipes are too thin. It is placed in the trash can next to the toilet.

4) Burger King. Everywhere. Refer to #3.

5) Mountains.

Orientation and a tour of San Jose tomorrow. I'll post again soon with pics from my room.

Pura vida,
Eric