Random Observation

When the omnipresent television is on in a public place in Costa Rica, one of three shows will be playing: a soap opera in Spanish, a soccer game, or The Dog Whisperer. Guaranteed.

Border Run - Take 2

We decided to go to Granada, Nicaragua for our second border trip before we knew how much longer the bus ride was.  How much longer you ask?  Much, much longer.  Also, it was a different bus route than the bus we had taken to San Juan del Sur.  A bus route that left much, much earlier from San Jose.  *Sigh*  Did I mention already that we are not morning people?

Since the alarm was already set ridiculously early, we decided to go ahead and wake up an hour beforehand. I hope our neighbors appreciate the rare pre-dawn siting of an Athy!
New improved travel bag includes: scarf, in case bus A/C is cranked; water supply, in case it's not; almonds, to stave off hunger in quasi-hostage situation that bus ride resembles; fully loaded Kindle, to take advantage of blessed time to read; own supply of toilet paper, rendering me invincible!

We stayed at a great place called Casa del Agua (http://www.casadelaguagranada.com/).  It is very close to the central park and is run by a cheery Irishman named Gerry.  He was very generous and forthcoming with restaurant and sightseeing advice.  From 5 pm on, he could be found at the closest pub!

Awesome husband in charge of keys and water!

Courtyard pool!

Granada gave us more of a taste of what Nicaragua is really like.  Even though it is still a big tourist spot, it is nothing like San Juan del Sur.  For starters, we got ripped off by our cab driver first thing after staggering off the bus.  The ride to the hotel was supposed to cost around $3.00 and we were charged $8.  We were too exhausted, overheated and disoriented to argue about it, so we just paid it.  For another thing, there are numerous street children, something we have never seen in Costa Rica. 

More scenes from around the city:

Restaurants we went too were El Camello (curry!!), The Garden Cafe (lovely and cool courtyard setting)  and Monna Lisa (excellent authentic Italian pizza).

Run for the Border - Take One

Every good trip starts with the alarm going off way too early and this one was no exception.  The deal is that a tourist Visa is only good for 90 days in Costa Rica, after which you must leave the country for some period of time and hope to get a new Visa upon re-entry.  In fact, we had to purchase bus tickets out of the country before we even left the US, as we had to show them before we could fly to Costa Rica without round trip airline tickets.  So finally, the appointed time was upon us!

We were actually looking forward to the trip because Dale had planned for us to go to the beach resort town of San Juan del Sur, which is also one of the closest and easiest destination points out of Costa Rica's Central Valley.  However, we were still inexperienced at traveling in Central America and all three of us still have lingering trauma from our initial move here, so there was definitely some anxiety.  Remember the rule here is that the only consistency is inconsistency!

We arranged for our landlords son, Carlos, to come and stay at our house to take care of all our pets and keep an eye on things.  He loves all the animals and obviously is comfortable with the house, so he was an great choice.  Our friend Trixie kindly agreed to give us a ride to the bus stop, which we weren't even exactly sure on the location of.   It turned out to be not in Grecia at all but where the road to Grecia meets with the main highway.  She dropped us off a desolate spot on the side of the road and we waited for a blue bus to come, which eventually it did.  As Dale confirmed with the driver that the bus was indeed going to Nicaragua, it was discovered that the driver did not have Jack's ticket information in his manifest.  However, he let us on anyway, after much confused discussion, and we were on our way.

The bus seats were fairly comfortable and there was air-conditioning, thank goodness, although it was perhaps a bit too strong (think a movie theater in the summer).  My sense of confusion and displacement was kicking in strongly.  I still struggle with tolerating the high degree of uncertainty that goes with life here.  The most horrific moment was when I finally staggered back to use the restroom.  First of all, I had totally forgotten that when one travels in Central American, you MUST BRING YOUR OWN TOILET PAPER!  I simply could not figure out how to do the lock on the door either.  Mind you, we are hurtling up twisting mountains curves at this point and I am constantly being thrown back and forth.  I finally was able to brace myself in a way that I could hold the door closed, hold on to wall and try to use the toilet, all the while very suspicious liquids are sloshing back and forth on the floor and in the sink.   Grand, just grand.  I lurched back to my seat, sending a hard look at Dale, and realized that I would rather forgo food and drink than face that bathroom again.

Hours and hours went by.  We had some understanding that we were to stop for lunch, but that didn't seem to be happening.  Finally, we came to the Costa Rican border, where we had to go briefly through an immigration checkpoint and then give our passports to the border agent.  At least there was a bathroom there!  Then back into the bus and on to the Nicaraguan check point, which required us to take all our luggage off the bus to be inspected. Once we set foot off the bus, we were besieged by native Nicaraguans selling food, drinks, shoes, watches, etc.  I just numbly repeated "No, gracias."  over and over again.  Finally, we were reunited with our passports and climbed back onto the bus.

Our destination was Rivas, which was the first stop once inside Nicaragua.   From there, we took a cab to San Juan del Sur.   The countryside was dry and brown, worn out from the months of the dry season.  We past many homes that looked like little more than a metal sheds hardly fit for any human.  Claro TV had an impressive presence.  The bright red satellite dishes were everywhere, standing out against the bleak landscape.

We checked in to our hotel, which was between a bed and breakfast and a hostel, called Casa Ariki (http://www.casaariki.com/).  Then, finally it was time to get something to eat!  We had received multiple recommendations for a place called El Timon (http://www.eltimonsanjuandelsur.com/en.html).  We were all feeling the fatigue and strain of a long travel day, so it was nice to have a place to just head to.  The restaurant was located right on the beach, with the high tide waves literally coming up underneath the deck floor.  We all had a good meal and a nice walk on the beach afterward.

https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1030903230059377466&pli=1#editor/target=post;postID=2819337125662875438;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=1;src=link

Even though we had a very late lunch, I wasn't about to miss out on dinner.  The owners at our motelrecommended two restaurants that were owned by an Italian chef.  We decided to try Pizzeria San Juan La Playa, which had a wooden burning oven for cooking pizzas in.  A few slices of pizza and a beer where just what was needed to erase the traumas of the day.

The next morning I was completely focused on checking out the town's American owned coffee shop and bookstore.  I had not seen a bookstore since leaving the The States.  Even better it was named El Gato Negro!  While the food was good (mainly we were just relieved to get American style food and coffee) the staff was quite unfriendly to us.  Despite the attempt to re-create a Starbucks type atmosphere, we did not feel welcome.  I couldn't resist buying a couple of books, even at the inflated prices.  Otherwise we didn't linger.  In addition to the lack of hospitality, we were about twice as old as the average person there.  The place was thick with North America kids apparently having a surfing vacation.  Humpf!

The afternoon was spent swimming in the San Juan del Sur bay, which was safe from undertows and sneaker waves.  Amazing fun for someone who grew up only knowing the Pacific Ocean from the Oregon coast!

But we still needed to see the real ocean, so we took a taxi to Playa Madera, which is the site of international surfing competitions.  It was an absolutely beautiful beach and we took a long walk on it, beach combing and watching the sun go down.  There wasn't much there in the way of restaurants (again, we were the old people) so we decided to head back into the town and go to the Italian guy's other restaurant and get some pasta.  This time we got to meet the owner himself!  His main advice to us concerned the superiority of Nicaragua over Costa Rica.  Anyway, our meals were amazing.  It seemed appropriate to top it all off with a trip to the town's new gelato shop, operated by yet another Italian expat (Superfrutto Gelateria).

The cabdriver that had driven us from Rivas showed up at our motel right on time to take us back to Rivas to catch the bus.  Nice!  While we waited for the bus to arrive, I walked to the nearby gas station to use the restroom and found it clean and well stocked with paper products!  Miraculous!  The trip home was getting off to a much better start.

Shortly, we reached the Costa Rican border for what was the actual point of this whole trip and the trickiest part:  getting our new tourist Visas.  It was a reverse of the trip in, with a short stop at the Nicaraguan border, followed by a stop at the Costa Rican border.  Now the time consuming part was the Costa Rican border.  They are quite a it pickier about who they let in!  We waited for over 2 hours in line, winding our way like cattle through orange barricades.  It was hot, humid and boring but no major injuries were sustained.

He's about had it at this point.

Approach with caution...

When it was finally our turn at the counter, the agent was more than ready for lunch and we were the last people in his line.  He barely glanced at us or our paperwork, not even asking for proof of our exit trip in 90 more days.  Our passports were stamped and with a wave of his hand, we were in! 

The rest of the trip was far more enjoyable with our anxiety out of the way.  Returning back here, we realized for the first time, that our house here really felt like home.

Spot the Differences

On a bus ride home the other day, a couple of women boarded who had young special needs children that they were caring for.  A little way into the ride, one of the children started to make noises, loudly.  It was pretty obvious that they wasn't going to be much the caregiver could do control or stop the sounds the child was making.  It seemed a case of hitting the middle of the afternoon wall and the kid had just had it.  What really got my attention was the other people on the bus.  Their reaction to the disruption was non-existent.  I don't mean that they were practicing tolerance.  They simply weren't impacted by the noise.  Now just about every US Mom can tell you horror stories about being in public and having your child become disruptive.  You are almost guaranteed to receive at least some level of disapproval and judgement.  I kept my eye out for any sign of irritation in the other bus passengers but it simply wasn't there.  Another evening, we came home late from town on a rush hour bus that was standing room only.  As more and more people tried to get on at the stops, people on the bus laughed and joked about the situation and cheerfully tried to make room for each other. 

When I think about all the situations I have been in so far here, I actually can not report a single time when I saw an argument between two people, yelling in anger, obscene gestures or any kind of road rage.  All of these things would be more or less common to see in the US, depending on where you live of course, with it being more prevalent in the denser urban areas.  I have heard that domestic violence is a problem here and I have heard of car accidents but so far, I just have not witnessed any.  It's clear that life is not easy here but people do not seem to carry the barely suppressed anger and anxiety that almost taken for granted in the US.   Here people definitely have less of everything, material and monetary, but also less stress.  People aren't quite as healthy here as I had hoped in many ways, especially regarding nutrition.  Awareness of the problems with processed foods seems low, with most common items are loaded with MSG and trans fats.  High fructose corn syrup doesn't seem to be used much, maybe because it's sugar cane country, so even though sugar is in everything, it could be worse.  There aren't many organic or clean alternatives to be found either.  But emotionally, there is a lightness here that is notably difference from the US.  

Another notable difference is that I rarely see babies in strollers or carriers.  They are typically just held by their Moms.  I really get the sense that Moms and children are just allowed to be together more.  Even if mothers need to work, either it is from their home or they have close family to help take care of the kids, since multi-generational living is the norm here.  In our neighborhood, there is a protected area outside where kids can play unsupervised.  Very young children can be found playing in the dirt, watched over by siblings and cousins.  I rarely hear children crying and when they are, it is usually while they are on their way back to their Moms.  It is the original free range childhood, one that is all but extinct in US society.

I will continue to compare and contrast life here with life in the US.  One nice thing about having a blog is that I can express my observations without having to support them.  Of course it's anecdotal evidence:  it's a blog!  So I fully intend to take advantage of my tiny, virtual pulpet!

Relaxing in Paradise

  Dale and I were talking about our progress through "culture shock" in our 5 weeks here so far and I was telling him that the one thing I really have had a hard time adjusting to in Costa Rica is that I can not find the kind of detailed information about things, especially through online sources, like I was accustomed to in the US.  I am addicted to doing online research about every tiny detail of every aspect of my life.  I like to be prepared for all possible contingencies.  And in Costa Rica, information is very hard to find and any that you do get, won't necessarily hold up.  Gosh, but I have a tremendous amount of anxiety when I can't pin down exactly what's going to happen.  I also see that while there has been a need for a certain amount of to-do-list making, problem solving and purchasing to get a certain level of comfort here, I am having trouble turning that off and not just moving on to the next project to tackle.  And there's always a next project.  It doesn't help that in the corporate world, I was encouraged and rewarded for having a "sense of urgency" and being productive and efficient.  Not that there isn't a time and place for those skills but a steady diet of it only leads to burn-out.  However, I'm not quite sure what I should be doing, if not engaged in busy work all the day long.  Apparently is there isn't legitimate stress from the environment, I will create it inside my head to distract myself from....ummm....well maybe it's time to explore that.

Top 10 Lists

Top 10 Things I Love about Costa Rica

1. Open windows bringing fresh air into the house day & night
2. Three huge pineapples for $2
3. A bus that stops in front of our house & is always on time
4. Laundry dried on the line
5.  Fresh eggs from my neighbor
6. My cats are very happy
7. Lime trees full of delicious fruit in our yard
8. Weekly farmer's market with bargain prices
9. Neighbors are necessary
10. I'm realize that I'm braver than I thought I was


Top 10 Things I Miss About the US

1. Stacks of free books from the library
2. Organic food
3. Walking safely across the street in a crosswalk
4. Being able to walk Apollo down the street without hoards of loose dogs barking in a frenzy
5. Having a car to go exploring in
6. Two day delivery from Amazon
7. Recycling centers
8. Yoga classes
9. Netflix Instant Queue
10. The feeling that I know what the hell I'm doing

Day to Day Life

One of the biggest adjustments to living in Costa Rica is the food.  I underestimated how limited the grocery store selections would be and how unfamiliar I would find so many items.  In my US life, I had evolved into a super picky consumer.  We were eating a diet around 80% organic, gluten-free and almost no canned, boxed or processed food.  I am not used to using any kind of regular soaps, detergents, shampoos or lotions as well.   I was purchasing many items from food co-ops, online sources and specialty markets.  So I wasn't just strolling down the aisles of regular US grocery stores.  It was a shock to realize just how limited my selection of everything.  Even though there are several different chains of grocery stores, they isn't much variety in what they carry.  I will need to cook more traditional Costa Rican recipes just because that's all the ingredients I can get my hands on.   I had to buy some laundry detergent with fragrance, which I haven't used for over 10 years.  My precious supply of Dr. Bronner's, which I can use for almost everything, only lasted about a week.  I would have brought a suitcase full of it if I had realized that I couldn't buy it, or any other kind of clean soap, here.  So my delimited, hyphenated  lifestyle will pretty much have to go out the window.
So far we have been starting our day with fruit, which one of the best things about Costa Rica for sure.  Eggs are also plentiful and obviously familiar.  My landlady has her own chickens in her yard and will bring me fresh eggs whenever I need them (by the kilo, not the dozen, brought loose in a tied up plastic bag and never refrigerated).  Black beans and rice, called Gallo Pinto, is the staple, along with Arroz con Pollo, which is basically a refried rice with chicken.  Strangely, I have not been able to find pinto beans or red lentils here, which are the favorites in the family.  There is no brown rice to be found either.  So far I have been able to make chili con carne and soup in the crockpot, which is my best friend in the world.  Last week we went to the big farmer's market in Grecia, called the Feria, and it was pretty amazing and a bit overwhelming.  My plan to is to try and get most everything I need for the week there: fruit and vegetables but also beans, dairy and some prepared foods like bakery items, tortillas, tacos and ceviche.  I like to have a few things in the freezer as back up meal insurance!    It is also common for vendors to come door to door selling various items.  I have been able to purchase fruits and vegetables this way, which saves me lugging groceries home. 

In traditional Tico homes, there is no hot water heater.  So dishes are washed by hand in tepid water.  For some reason, I was in the habit of more or less washing dishes with hot water and soap and then putting them in the dishwasher.  I guess I just really like really clean dishes.  I try to rinse everything right after I use it to minimize the scrubbing but I do have the feeling that things just aren't as clean as I'd like them.  Same deal with the laundry.  I did get a new automatic washing machine, which I am grateful for, but with the cold water, things don't seem to get a whole lot cleaner.  So far I can tell if my clothing has been washed because it's horribly wrinkly from drying on the clothes line.  I have the vague impression that everything is slowly getting more grimy and frumpy with every washing. ha ha. Also, there is a certain learning curve to drying laundry on the line.  I have gone out to check it and decided to leave it out a little bit longer to finish drying completely,  only to find that the humidity had risen and the clothes had started absorbing moisture from the air and were getting wetter again.

If you've read anything about Costa Rica, you may be familiar with the infamous "suicide showers".  It's some kind of set-up where electrical wirea heat the water as it comes through the shower.  The trick is to adjust the water flow to a level that will allow you to actually get hot water.  If you turn the flow of water up too quickly, it turns ice cold.  So have to choose:  strong water pressure or heat. You can not have both!  In our shower, the floor is only marginally sloped towards the drain, which is just an unfinished hole cut into the tile.  I don't mind the water pooling up a bit since my feet are always really dirty from running around barefoot all day.  Since there are no bathtubs in Tico homes, this is as close as I'm gong to get.  After I'm done with my shower, I use a squeegee to try and get all the water down the drain.