La Marta; or Our Town

I just got back from what may have been my last trip to the rainforest...I'd like to think I'll come back and revisit, but who knows? We wound through the mountains southeast of San José for two to three hours before reaching La Marta Wildlife Refuge. The protected area was built around the remains of a coffee plantation/factory which was decomposed and mossed over enough after 100 years or so that everyone thought at first it was an ancient Mayan ruin. We did some hiking, built a campfire, visited with local environmental activists: the usual.

I would, however, like to take this opportunity to salute all the small mountain towns across the Costa Rican countryside. Though I've really liked my experience in San José, every time I leave the city I wish more and more that I could have studied in one of the countless pristine rural villages of Costa Rica. They are surrounded by the perfect setting: rainforests, rivers and mountains. And toucans. Pejivalle, the town near La Marta, was one of those towns. It had the typical scattering of well-kept homes (compared to the nasty barrios in San José, anyway) and an architecturally new-age church overlooking the town plaza (often a field where local clubs play soccer on Sunday afternoons). The people are friendly, the vibe is relaxed and the ambience is breathtaking. Here's to all the Pejivalles, Bijaguas, Tucurriques, Orosis, Barvas and Tierra Blancas of Ticolandia!

Pura vida,
Eric

Volcán Irazú

I hopped on board the 8:00 am bus this morning for a quick day-trip up to the crater at Parque Nacional Volcán Irazú. This is what I found when I arrived.

I'm not quite sure what to call the weather. It was too wet for fog, too soft for rain and too hard for mist. Whatever it was, it was cold, damp and obscuring my view of the crater. However, it created kind of a surreal environment when combined with the volcanic soot on the ground and the 40 degree temperatures (F); it was like taking a bus from San José to another planet.

I did not let the "fog" ruin my trip, though: I managed both to finish my souvenir shopping at the gift store and to snap a photo of a wild coati, a kind of tropical opposum/racoon/lemur hybrid beast.

Pura vida,

Eric

Pura Vida

The ubiquitous Costa Rican phrase "pura vida", I'm beginning to think, can pretty much adopt any meaning you want it to depending on intonation. Here are the meanings I've heard it take so far:

• Hello
• Goodbye
• How are you?
• I'm fine thanks!
• Thank you
• You're welcome
• Are you alright?
• Great! or Awesome!
• Enjoy! Have a good time!
• Later!

Pura vida,

Eric

Cumpleaños

I celebrated my 20th birthday here yesterday! So. Much. Fun. My host mom bought a cake while I fried up some porkchops for dinner and smothered them in KC barbeque sauce. It was a great 'family' gathering and a chance to share a bit of U.S. culture with everyone.

I was joined by (from left to right) my host sister Natalí; Liza, another student from Sweden teaching English in a local school; Uriel, a Tico student living with us; my host dad Cesar; doña Angélica y don Nestor, two retired Chileans who joined us for Easter dinner (all their family still lives in Chile); and my host mom Nina, who I promise is looking uncharacteristically sullen in this photo.

Thanks to all of them for a great party!

A Man, A Plan, A Canal, Panama II: oroT led sacoBocas del Toro

Bocas del Toro, a set of islands of the northwest coast of Panama and setting for a recent season of "Survivor", was our beach destination for Holy Week. We arrived to the shore at 5:30 am, took a quick boat ride to the town bearing the name of the islands and desperately searched for a hostel. Unfortunately, this place was like Bethlehem during the census: no place to stay. We managed to secure a triple room for five people at a fairly nice hostel the first night, but spent the next couple nights at a hole-in-the-wall place with hammocks and periodic running water. Luckily, the company was great and it only cost $5 per night. We befriended a couple of Catalonians and a Panamanian and managed to explain in Spanish the rules for the card games B.S. and King's Cup (aka Circle of Death). Needless to say, it was difficult.

The trip itself was nothing special, just a basic beach trip. Some pretty places and some not-quite-as-pretty-but-I-don't-care-because-it's-still-the-beach places. The area was kind of cool because it had a bunch of buildings jutting into the harbor supported by stilts. Here's an example.

As far as beaches, we visited Playa de las Estrellas, which featured an abundance of starfish; Zapatilla, an isolated and environmentally-protected island outlined by pristine white sand beaches; and Red Frog Beach, overrun by both tourists and strong waves. We also saw dolphins in the bay and boated through a giant mangrove "forest".

The day before Easter, we woke early with the Catalonians, who guided us back to the mainland and to our bus to San José. I returned sunburnt and exhausted, happy to return to Costa Rica. I'll leave you with some random facts/observations about the country of Panama:

-Panama uses the dollar as its currency. The only difference is that it also mints its own coins, called balboas. After three months using colones in Costa Rica, it felt weird using dollars again. I actually felt more comfortable using colones again once we returned across the border.

-Panama's Spanish is pretty close to what you learn in American Spanish class. Nothing really stood out in the accent, and, like Spain, they almost always used tú to address you (as opposed to usted and vos in Costa Rica). The only idiosyncracy I noticed there was that many Panamanians used a la orden to say "you're welcome", as opposed to the typical de nada or the Costa Rican con gusto.

-The country seemed to me very different than Costa Rica. Panama is basically a mix of Nicaragua and the U.S.: more typically Central American than Costa Rica (like Nicaragua in terms of appearance) but with many English speakers, American restaurants and the use of the dollar. After having traveled to both Nicaragua and Panama now, I realize how unique a country Costa Rica is even among its neighbors.

Only three weeks left in my program now that I'm back in San José! Upcoming post on my thoughts on returning. Until then!

Pura vida,

Eric

A Man, A Plan, A Canal, Panama I: ytiC amanaPanama City

Latin American schools don't really have a "Spring Break." Instead, they have Holy Week. From Maundy Thursday to Easter Sunday, everything is shut down in San José, some of it by law in Costa Rica (after all, Catholicism is constitutionally the state religion here). Schools are closed, buses don't run, government buildings are locked up. My host mom told me that years ago, people threw stones at anyone who had the irreverent nerve to leave their houses on Good Friday. As a result, the tradition was born that everyone leaves the city and goes to the beach. A few friends and I decided to do the same, but since our program gave us all of Holy Week off, we tacked on a trip to Panama City.

The day before Palm Sunday, a few friends and I awoke early to board a 7:30 am bus to David, just across the border in Panama. We arrived at 8:00 pm (11 1/2 hour ride plus a time zone change). We waited a couple hours, then boarded a double decker express bus to Panama City, arriving to our hostel there at 5:30 am. All in all, a 22 hour trip. I almost died.

After sleeping for an eternity, we awoke and set out to explore the city. One friend described it as Miami, except in a different country. After a stop at an artisan market to purchase the souvenirs by which to remember the Panamanian adventures we had not yet experienced, we headed to the Amador Causeway, an artificial land bridge connecting three harbor islands to the city by road. It was constructed by depositing the excess earth from the Panama Canal excavation in the sea. It was a very touristy area: mostly a cruise ship stopping point complete with Bennigan's, but still very tuanis (cool). Below is a picture of the Causeway with the Puente de las Americas in the background, until recently the only road connection between North and South America since the construction of the Canal.

The next day we traveled to what we thought would be the highlight of the trip: the (in)famous Panama Canal. It was neat to see it of course. There was a decent museum at the Miraflores Lock where one can see the ships pass through. However, it all ended up being slightly anti-climactic. Perhaps I was expecting too much. Moreover, I left my camera at the hostel. I'll post pictures I took with a friend's camera as soon as she posts them on Facebook. After the Canal, we tried to take a bus to the still-standing colonial part of the city, Casco Viejo, but instead took a bus to the destroyed colonial part of the city, Panama Viejo. The ruins were the work of Henry Morgan, the pirate who sacked the city in the late 1600s. Today it stands in a sketchy slum not too far from the modern downtown area. Those pictures are also forthcoming.

The last day in the city, we explored the aforementioned Casco Viejo. This area of town is very similar to the French Quarter in New Orleans. Old Spanish architecture, narrow streets with the overhanging balconied buildings almost blocking out the sun, and interesting smells. However, we visited three beautiful old churches, three museums, the ruins of an old convent and the Plaza de Francia, which offered the pictures of the buildings below and the skyline above. Also in Casco Viejo were the Casa Presidencial (Panama's White House) and the beautiful National Theatre.

Perhaps the niftiest part of Casco Viejo was the San José Church, a 17th Century baroque construction complete with a golden altar. The altar was saved from Henry Morgan's invasion by the church's priest. He painted the golden altar black and convinced the pirate that it was made of wood. ¡Qué dicha! Thank goodness! The altar is truly a treasure to see in person.

We left the city that evening on an 8-hour overnight bus trip to our beach destination: Bocas del Toro.

Hipermás

After two months of passing by it while walking home from Tai Chi classes, I decided today out of curiosity to stop in at Hipermás, the Costa Rican Wal-Mart subsidiary. I really don't know what I was expecting. Maybe some sort of cultural enlightenment or catharsis? Maybe proof that things here are different and Costa Rica isn't headed down the road to being the single huge mall that is the United States?

But of course, the Fates were not kind. Hipermás is exactly the same as Wal-Mart, so I did exactly what I would do back home. I walked in, felt an instant angst for the existence of the mass consumerism/corporate profit motive/environmental destruction complex, got drawn in by the electronics department, ended up buying something I didn't need (in this case a can of Pringles) and left realizing that I was no more than a pawn in the system I had just minutes before bemoaned. Huge failure. I think I'll stick to the local Perimercado grocery store for the rest of my stay (which incidentally is now less than a month).

Pura vida (or maybe not today...),
Eric