We're Coming Home

                                                    Hasta Luego Costa Rica!!

Discount Diccionario

You get what you pay for. And I think I paid about a buck. I saw this cute little diccionario in Pali, the local super market in Sa'mara. Pali looks like a prison. Barbed wire topped 15ft high chain-link fences surround it. There's even a watchtower. You just never know when some ambitious tomato is going to try to roll out of there when no one is looking. The first problem (for a tomato) would be hitting the floor and still being able to roll. I guess a tomato would have to land on its side to roll, too. Very precise landing and on a soft spot so as not to spoil rolling ability and cause a big mess. But wait....tomatoes escape from the grocery store all the time in grocery bags! Ahaha! It's those bad tomatoes that try to roll in after hours that they are trying to keep out. So, the diccionario...(I should look up how to say "I am swerving off the subject again"). The bottom line is, the diccionario is going into the trash tonight. I'm not even going to leave it in my hotel room so someone else can have it. It would absolutely not benefit anyone except someone like me with funny-head (my brain perks up and jiggles at strange things - ah, this is my bumper sticker: I LAUGH FOR ANYTHING or maybe I BRAKE FOR UNCONTROLLABLE LAUGHTER). Let me brake here and give you an example of what you cannot find in this diccionario: The word "wait". Waiter, yes. Wait, no. "Weft" and "wrongdoer", yes. "Wait", no. The word "leave" (as in I don't want to leave Samara). I just have to say "No quiero leave Samara" because the word is just not there. "Run". Come on. "Run" is not in here! But, if I'm using "ruffian" or "riffraff" in a sentence, I'm covered. "Pen"? No. "Penis", "peckish" and "pendular", yes. Oooooooh, now here's a great ice breaker: Hola, tienes un hambriento pene puedo usar?  Ah, gracias! Pendulo, man! Whoa that translates really weirdly in babelfish. The word for "peckish" translates as "hungry". Basically, hey do you have a peckish penis I can borrow? Pendular, man! Okay, weird sentence. VERY weird. And the word "weird" IS in this thing called a diccionario, and should be on the front cover. Hey, I wonder about "very".  Let's look it up! Nope, "very" is not in this little piece of barco diccionario. Well, we all know that one anyway. Ex: Meret es muy loco. So, "very" is not there, but we do have "vertebral" and "videocassette", again not usually used in conversation. No one uses video cassettes anymore and when they did, they didn't call them video cassettes. And anyway, the word in spanish is "videocasete".  "Vertebral". Let's use that in a sentence. Well, how about in yoga class: "Oh, you're so vertebral!" Don't make me translate that into spanish. Oh, okay. More of Meret's bad spanish. "Tu eres muy vertebral". "Ten". The word for "ten" is not in. 1-9, yes. 10, no. So, if you want to tell someone they are a "10", you woul have to say, "Tu eres un nuevos mas uno". Or something. Weird. I mean, "Misterioso"! Also, If your birthday is in May or August, forget it. You will have to say "Mi cumpleanos es en el mes despues abril" Or you can just suddenly remember that you know how to say May in spanish because of Cinco de Mayo!  I mentioned a hotel earlier in the post. Did you notice and wonder why??. Yes, we are in a hotel in Allajuela, Costa Rica. We unfortunately missed our 6:20am flight (no, it was not our fault). So we checked into a Holiday Inn at 6:30am this morning! Had breakfast at Denny's, where we managed to order the Meatlover's Scramble with no meat. That waitress must of thought we were so bizarre. Anyway, Denny's. Big mistake. Costa mucho dinaro y la comida NO fue rica ? Bad. Like my spanish.  But, tonight, we went to a restaurant called Jalapenos Central. Top of the list in Trip Advisor for Allajuela. We got a $6 taxi ride to this place run by a Columbian from New York City who makes GREAT mexican food. His name is Norm. He saw me looking puzzled-ly at my drink and he came over to our table to explain. It was called Cas or Caz. Tastes like a combo of mango, lime and kiwi. He said this fruit is so hard it has to be smashed open. Then blended up and sweetened. He hates it. But, I thought ooooh,  yummy-summer-drink. Great guy. He's been there 8 years and loves it. Oh, and two of his waitresses will just break into song when they feel like it. Steve and I give this restaurant dos pulgares arriba! I got those words out of my diccionario just before I put it on the next train to the dumpster.

Marco the Magnificent and my rambling surf saga

I think he looks bored. Do you think he looks bored? Look at the under-enthused one thumb sort of up! Remember 18? What were YOU wanting to do when you were 18. Probably not hang around with someone who is (although kinda cute and youthful) old enough to at leeeeast be your mother. Even maybe grandmother (they marry early here).  Whoa, I just imagined one of my grandmothers surfing. No, she had the spunk for sure. But, I don't think she ever wore a bathing suit or even a pair of pants. My grandmother wore a corset, stockings, dress and Nancy Drew-type high heels (black, thick heeled with ties) every day. I remember she wore hairnets and dyed here hair and her pillow always had this blue/grey tint to it. But, she played a mean game of gin rummy. And she moved fast around the house in those heels.  No messing around. Oh, and then there was her driving. They called her Gallopin' Gertie, really! She rode the wave-y streets of Cordell Oklahoma in her 1948 green bubble car Buick. That was before seatbelts and I can remember sitting next to her going over the bumps hitting my head on the roof of the car  (The only changes in altitude in western Okla are the bumps in the roads). So, Marco....not impressed that I am learning to surf at the age of %&! No...and I'm pretty sure his mind is s-o-m-e-w-h-e-r-e else doing
s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g else, and often. Give him a little slack. He teaches year round, at least 7 hours/day, 7 days/week,  365 days/year unless it rains. Lucky for him it gets dark at 6pm year round here. So they close up at 5pm every day. His hours are tide dependent. I had lessons at 7am and sometimes at 4:30pm depending on the tide. His father is a fisherman and although Marco loves the sea, he did not want to be a fisherman like his father. His mother is a school teacher. Age 55 (see, I'm about his mother's age).  Anyway, he was not easy on me. He did, however, protect me from breaking myself which I'm grateful for. He shouted at me and looked perturbed a lot. I think I was a pain in the ass because I wouldn't give up, but I was also a wimp. Frustrating combination of qualities for a teacher - the tenacious wimp. I often got little mini lectures about how surfing was not easy, and just because I was determined to do it, didn't mean it was going to happen fast. Dead-on right. I think he thought that I thought I would just be able to do it (spot-on again). After graduating from the white-wave kindergarten with flying colors, leccion three was to "paddle out" into the big boy waves. The first paddle out was on rough ocean (see Rollin and Tumblin). I had the fear-o-god after that. The second time we paddled out was a week later and again the ocean was not in the mood and quite a rough. I was getting thrashed about, my surfboard would get yanked out of my hands. I was feeling terror at the oncoming waves. Marco had instructed me in two ways to get through the breaking waves. One way was for the smaller waves. You kind of do a pushup on the board so the crashing water runs between you and your board. For the bigger waves, he taught me to do a turtle roll which I thought was surely going to break my nose the first time I tried it. Right before the wave breaks on you, you grab the sides of the board and roll over so the surfboard in on top of you as the wave is breaking. If you do it too late, the wave tries to separate you from your board and laughs while your puny little arms fight back. Timing is critical in this sport. No doubt about it. Also, learning which waves are big enough to do the turtle roll is one of those trial and error processes. Marco says: "That wave was too small to do a turtle roll". Oh. "You don't want to waste your energy". And it is quite a maneuver. You rarely end up on your surfboard after a turtle roll. Climbing back on your surfboard all the time takes a lot of energy (as does panicking). I was panicking a lot, and I am really the non-panicking fish type when it comes to water. Height, yes, I predictably panic.(I won't be learning to skydive) But fearing water, I was not used to that. Panicking, of course, is one of the worst things you can do for your health while surfing. I had a mini lecture in the middle of the ocean about not panicking.  At one point (pre-lecture) I was screaming, "Marco, I can't do this!" at the top of my lungs and was flailing around like shark bait. I just about almost gave up totally. But, he said the waves would get better in a few days, and my stubborn side was not letting me give up. For probably ten days, I went, hoping for a calmer ocean. Psyching myself up each time to overcome my paddling out fear. And each time Marco would say, not today. Too rough. Tomorrow for sure. Finally after a series of successful but unfulfilled psych-ings, the day came. After mentally punching my hand through a few walls, shouting obscenities, chanting the nasty badass honey badger theme and flanked by Steve, Lyn and Athena, I went once again to bored, aggravated, babe-deprived Marco and the wave machine to "paddle out". Eureka! The ocean was in a much better mood. Marco - no, but at least I got a glint of a smile out of him. I was not afraid. I turtle rolled beautifully, kept on paddling and smiled, laughed! Nasty badass Meret badger EATS waves! I caught my first wave! And didn't eat it! Yahoo! I (sort of) hugged Marco and got a high five from Choco. Sittin on top of the world tooo-day! The next day I paddled out with Steve (the big boy surfer). Another victory for me. Didn't do much, but I learned subtle things like how to turn my board around quickly without someone shouting commands at me and when/when not to do a turtle roll. So, I mostly sat on my surfboard and coasted for a long time realizing, there are a lot of waves out there and there are no signs (and no Marco) saying "This one is yours". I had no idea which wave to take. So, when I went back in to shore, Marco asks me 'how was it?" and I said oh, great, but one minor detail, I don't know which waves to take! Marco (eye roll) said, just take the waves like we did yesterday. Uh huh, but yesterday he was standing up on his surf board watching the waves and shouting orders to me. "THIS YOUR WAVE", "TURN AROUND NOW!", "PADDLE!", "PADDLE FASTER",  "DON'T STAND UP". Oh, I thought you said STAND UP! (sh**t). (another Marco eye roll). Anyway, when he was out there with me, I never knew what was coming, wave-wise. It could have been a tsunami. I was just belly-on-surfboard facing the shore getting ready to paddle-never-fast-enough, and trying to hear broken english commands over the surf. Of course, I was supposed to "look the wave", "LOOK THE WAVE!". But, I thought right now HE'S there to "LOOK THE WAVE!". He's going to yell at me anyway, so let him tell me which wave to take.  "I have to think about a million other things right now, Marco", I'm thinking in my stubborn, spoiled american girl way. I did try one wave but I stood up too soon just like he told me not too and the wave got away. He says "you have to do what I say". I say "I know, I know, I go into fight or flight when this wave is about to send me on a roller coaster" Sorry (feeling like a BAD student). So, here's Marco. Very sweet, very competent, but really disgusted with me, and longing for the babes.  Oh, and I was the ONLY woman on the beach with a one-piece bathing suit. How un-cool is that!. I do have a bikini with me, but imagine trying to retrieve the two pieces of a bikini AND trying to figure out where your surf board is (like, is it coming toward my head?) AND having a nose full of ocean AND Marco yelling "PADDLE OUT!"     S-o-r-r-y!

Epilogue: I did paddle out twice with Steve and I caught two waves all by myself and ate them for dinner!

Costa Rican Bird Pop Star

There's this one particular bird that has entertained us every day with an ever changing repertoire of songs, and if you listen without your ears, you can hear the words he is saying (Translating the meaning is another talent that I may develop sometime in the future). We can tell it's the same type of bird every time because of the crystal clear tone and... the volume knob. This bird has a volume knob.  Starts out low and then cranks it UP.  (The cell phones in Costa Rica do the same volume thing.)

Here are my faves with lyrics listed below:

Potato Creek Bomber
You Have Freckles in Your Beard
Beef Stew
Green Acres remix (see link below for original Green Acres theme song)
You're a weirdo
La Cucaracha ((great cover of an old fave)
Get Real



Lyrics

Potato Creek Bomber
Potato-creek-bomber  
Potato-creek-bomber
Potato-creek-bomber 
Potato-creek-bomber

You Have Freckles In Your Beard
You have freckles in your beard
You have freckles in your beard
You have freckles in your beard
You have freckles in your beard

Beef Stew 
Beef stew (pause)
Beef stew (pause)
Repeat

GreenAcres remix 

Instrumental

You're a Weirdo
You're a weir-do
You're a weir-do
You're a weir-do  
You're a weir-do

La Cucaracha remix
La Cucaracha
La Cucaracha
La Cucaracha
La Cucaracha  

 

Get Real
Get REAL
Get REAL
Get REAL
.....(pause) Steeeeeeve!.........
Kiss Meret
Kiss Meret
Kiss Meret 

(this is all true)

Green Acres Theme Song (first 5 notes is all you need - but go ahead and listen to it all. Sing along!)

The Mascots of Al Manglar

Excuse me...did you say you have a boa constrictor for a mascot? We went back to Al Manglar (which means In the Mangroves) for the 4th night in a row tonight. I think we like the food. I wrote more about this restaurant on Trip Advisor, if anyone is interested in coming to Samara with us when we return in January (probably a dream). I found myself telling Rosa, the chef, that we would be back in January (which was probably a lie). She had to prompt me on the italian word for January because all I could say was "the month after December". Otherwise, unbelievably, I spit out a sentence or two in italian and was somewhat understood. Anyway, we arrived to find Massimo (our waiter from Naples) out in front of Al Manglar talking to something in the muddy stream. I yelled something like "Hey are you talking to the toads?" No, he said, a crocodile. !!!!! Sure enough, yes, a maybe pre-teen sized cocodrillo was there at the bank of the creek, sticking his nose up and showing his little pearly adolescent teeth. Apparently, Rosa feeds the little rascal daily at least once. Raw fish, etc. He's her "baby". A Mascot. So, when Massimo walked up to the water, out popped croc looking for a meal. He's a growing boy! Massimo was scolding him for his enormous appetite and suggested he go distract himself with a girlfriend. Wow! I'm standing 3 feet from a crocodile who might be getting pissed off about  a) not being fed and b) being told to go get a girlfriend - which I think would piss one off if one had to go miles to find one. There seems to be only one croc per muddy stream. Our spanish teacher Leni said there is one that lives in the muddy stream under a bridge down the road from her house. Recently it rained so much here that her entire road merged with that muddy stream and its lone inhabitant swam up the road and was lounging around in her front yard. She is saying all this with only mild distress. Yikes! I guess it's like me and tornadoes. I grew up with funnels touching down and sirens blowing all the time and frantic weathermen saying "Folks, this is no joke. We have a funnel on the ground. Take shelter now!" We would be standing out in the streets looking up at the sky saying, "Naaa!" Or sometimes piling into the station wagon at 2am and going to the fallout shelter at the hospital because we were all going to blow away. Fun! I just didn't have the fear of tornadoes that I do of crocodiles. I grew up with muddy streams, too. But, all I remember inhabiting those creeks were crawdads and snapping turtles. Scary? no. So, back to Al Manglar ...we came back tonight because Rosa and Massimo promised to have lasagna. We tried two nights in a row without success, but we knew it was worth trying again for because we had it a week before, and Massimo promised they would have it. We decided to trust this Neopolitan, even though he thoroughly convinced us never to go to Naples because you cannot trust anyone there and it is impossible to reform them because it is in their genes. Hmmm. Well, we trusted him (and Rosa who is from very trust-worthy Verona-home-of-Romeo-and-Juliet) and they did produce the goods - the lasagnaaaaah. Excellent lasagna. Subtle, integrated, smooth, layered delight! We got the one with ground beef and ham (I'm pretty sure we will have to renounce our vegetarianism with that one). So, okay, rewind a bit to pre-lasagna. We sat down to wait for the deliciousness, amongst the usual array of cats and dogs that wander in, and we heard some commotion out front.  It was Rosa feeding our randy little growing boy, the croc. We had to see this. He swallowed a big piece of fish whole and then turned on his side (oh, that's ayurvedic isn't it?) and gave us a smile showing his fine, razor sharp adolescent teeth. She says he is very smart. I wonder if he is smart enough to know that when he grows up, he could make one of us his meal. It's just a little eerie the thought of befriending a crocodile. It's about trust. Can you trust someone who could swallow you some day? Maaaybe... Anyway, one piece of fish was not enough for young crockinstein. He wanted more and started to charge up the bank towards Rosa. We may have a nasty drug dealer/addict situation developing here. Again, I'm thinking, never deal drugs to someone who would bite your leg off if you were a little too slow to deliver.  Massimo again reprimanded him and suggested female distractions. Croclet slid back into the water with that "oh dad" kind of look (I thought I saw a hint of "oh dad, just you wait", too). We returned to our table eager to chomp our lasagna (and roll onto our sides with teeth glistening). On this occasion we were sitting more on the inside part of the restaurant. Usually we sat in the open-air section but there was some kind of stink going on that we couldn't handle. Turned out to be a lobster in the trash that Rosa had bought and discarded (trash day was tomorrow). So we moved inward away from the stink of the morte langosta under the beautifully crafted high thatched roof. (Think these words using a sinister voice) - We were soon to be introduced to Al Manglar Mascot #2 (insert creepy music here). Rosa motioned for us to look up at something long and brownish above us that sort of looked like a piece of the roof thatching (are you guessing yet?). The "rrrroof thatching" mmmoved. We began to make out a head. The eyes. It slowly became an "s" (as in oh shit) shape.  It was a boa constrictor with about half of its body sticking through the thatching staring down at us. Su amigo? I said to Rosa. Si, she said. He's my "pet". He eats the bats. A living ecosystem right there under the roof at Al Manglar. The bats eat the mesquitos (but not quite well enough), the snake eats the bats, and I don't think anyone eats the snake. Maybe the croc would. Or a nasty badass honey badger if they had any there. (see previous post).  Tune in next week for  "Who's chomping who" and "Crocky gets a date".

Athena gets kissed by a frog

We rented bikes today and had the best adventure. We were going to ride down the highway to Carillo beach which is about 7km from Samara. (see Gilligan's Island post earlier this month). We realized quickly that it was too hilly for the types of bikes we had and turned around. I was intent on getting in the water at that point and wanted to head down the beach on our bikes. We did. I jumped in the water (have bathing suit will travel) and we jumped on our bikes and rode to the ends of the earth. At earth's end there was a road that went off to the left and headlands to our right. We took the road. It was a pretty short bike on a dirt road that T-ed into a two lane paved road. There on the corner was a sign advertising La Selva Refugio and indicating it was only 2km away. I knew La Selva was at Carillo Beach, so magically, we were only a little over a mile away from where we were headed in the first place! We had ridden to Carillo Beach on our bikes down the beach!  We stayed a bit and swam, played with the hermit crabs in the tide pool, avoided several horses hanging out on the highway, saw cows in the river and then headed back. I want to swerve here for a few lines to describe how wonderful it was to have Lyn and Athena visit us at that time. We were just starting to feel a bit homesick and loosing our enthusiasm when these two showed up with their incredible enthusiasm and vacation spirit. Suddenly we were showing them around "our" Samara with pride and a new sense of appreciation. It sort of re-awakened us  to all the specialness of this place. The sweet people, the ocean, the local artists, our veranda, the Tico food, the birds, the iguanas. It was miraculous. We realized we had a new home-away-from-home. Samara had woven itself quietly and deeply into our hearts.
Back to our story: We headed back down the two-lane, dirt road and beach toward Samara. We wanted to take Lyn and Athena to Pablito's Bar that evening, and it was getting toward dusk. Pablitos, you may remember from an earlier post (Pablito's Bar - Here comes the Sun), is the place to really feel the local vibe of Samara. As we reached the familiar territory of Chaco's Surf School, we parked our bikes and took a dip in the ocean, then headed to Pablito's at the other end of town, past the usual horses, cows and chickens. We arrived just about dusk (6pm) and were about the only customers there. The nice man (the one that brought me the sun on a previous visit - see earlier post about Pablito's) was there and seated us in the smoking section inhabited only by the chirping geckos on the walls. The geckos were not smoking and neither were we. We had a Boca (a cup of stew that comes free with your beer) and a few beers/pepsis we ate some of their great french fries and chatted.  By the way, for some reason the french fries here in Costa Rica are GREAT! Like they were pre-McDonalds when a french fry was a potato and not ... cardboard (?). Anyway, we're chatting/enjoying hanging out and then - Frog-on-table. There he was. A frog. Not a toad, noooo. We all gasped in delight and asked the obvious whys and where-came-froms. But we were left to only speculate. He was not talking. I know now, but did not know then that prince frog had a very specific mission. He was coming a-courting. He was seeking his princedom. He had his sites set on Athena (and what prince wouldn't!).  Of course, being gurls, we had to touch the frog and coo "oh he's so cute". That was his cue. His moment! No guts, no glory! He flew straight into Athena's mouth. Smack! We're talkin frog mouth to Athena mouth. Bleck! Ick. and all. She said there was actual tongue contact (french froggie, I guess). Oh, Monsieur! Bleck! Ick! Then he ricocheted off her teeth onto her chest. This was one CHEEKY frenchy froggie. Then he was gone. Definitely a drive-by kissing. He sat under a chair for the rest of the evening. Humiliated and re-grouping, I'm sure, and later agreed to a few (hundred) photos. While we were there, we managed to see two of those famous yodeling toads that night, too. One smiled for the camera as we took another half-billion photos in the dark while the locals looked on. Another cute human critter we met that night was little boy about the size of a coke bottle with a beatle haircut who kept whizzing by our table with one of those toy cars that are almost big enough to ride on. He was adorable. We coo-ed. We did not, however, reach out and touch him in case he pulled a stunt like ricochet froggie. He seemed to belong to Pablito's and when we got up to leave, he cleared the beer bottles off our table, gave us a wave and said Ciao! We were charmed. Oh yeah, the frog may have gotten a kiss, but he never turned into a prince (unless there was some delayed reaction and there is now a prince hiding under a chair at Pablito's looking for Athena). I just don't think the whole kiss-a-frog-he-turns-into-a-prince works that way. His technique was all wrong. I believe the girl has to CHOOSE to kiss the frog. Choose. I know, we choose everything...blah, blah, blah, but I'm just really sure Athena was not being a random costa rican frog/prince magnet that night.

Nasty Badass Meret Badger

Today the ocean relented. Maybe it's the moon, but I think it is because I sacrificed my ankle bracelet to the ocean twice. I had this cute ankle bracelet the color of my toenails with a little pearly stone. I tied my best knot and it was swallowed up by Mother ocean within minutes. But, one of the local vendors found it at the beach, had seen me wearing it, and gave it to Lyn and Athena! So, for a day, I had it back. This time I had a boy scout tie a square knot. I pulled hard trying to break it or untye it, but it was not budg-able by human hands. Mother laughed and swallowed harder. Okay, okay. Mother Ocean. You can have it. You did give me Steve back the other day. Can you just have mercy on me today out there with the big boy waves? Marco said we should have a leccion at 9:30 today and we would paddle out. So. The words "paddle out" probably don't effect you much, right? I can say "paddle out" many times and you will just yawn I suppose. But, these two words "paddle out" have been something like...well, in these next sentences, I will replace the words "paddle out" with the terror-based words that my body hears (was hearing) and responds to (w-a-a-s responding to) accordingly. Here goes: La, la, la, Oh, so, Meret, today we are going to "have lunch in the river with a 12 ft long (with tail) starving crocodile". You have to be brave and strong, and by all means DO NOT PANIC when you "have lunch in the river with a 12 ft long (with tail) starving crocodile". You have to relax and keep going when you "have lunch in the river with the 12 ft long (with tail) starving crocodile". Otherwise, you will die. Do you get the picture? Can you FEEL THIS? If you can stop laughing for a moment and get serious with me here, can you experience the terror? The absurd, electrifying, deer-in-the-head-lights state of distraction that this seemingly harmless phase causes (no, no...... ha-a-a-s caused) in this body? Well. Today. With the help of Steve, Lyn, the goddess Athena and the crazy nastyass honey badger (see the link below for the honey badger), I surfed those mother fuckers (geez, am I going to edit that out. are my parents reading this? pleeeeeez, pleeeez  translate that as "Lord God I Love Life Today"...because that is the truth). I am high as a 747! Happy as those monkeys in the trees. It's just an inexpressable feeling that can only be pointed at with four letter word expletives. However, Hallelujah works pretty well too. Please do watch the video about the nastybadass honey badger. You will hear my mantra "[Meret] Badger don't care, she just EATS [waves]!"

NASTY BADASS HONEY BADGER
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4r7wHMg5Yjg

Another in a long line of little things that make me laugh...

We went back to Playa Guiones today. This time it took only an hour to go the 24 km. We're getting the hang of this. We had only a few hours before we had to get back on the bus, and decided to rent surf boards from Cacho's for $5 each. That's for 2 hours.  I would pay that just to look cool carrying a surfboard down the beach!. Great deal!  It was low tide and the waves were choppy and confused. Coming in strong and from all different directions. We both strutted our cocky selves into the water. Steve was great. He actually caught some waves. It was pretty brutal trying to paddle out beyond the angry breakers, but he did it. He conquered all. The waves took revenge though, and carried him waaay, waaaaaaaaay down the beach. I, on the other hand, went in for a few ridiculous slammings and then got out to look for Steve. He was nowhere, man. I picked up my 8'6" board (don't laugh, at least it's shorter than the 9'2" I started out with) and headed down the beach looking for my surfer dude husband. It was so weird because when i started out walking, there were some kids playing in the waves maybe 50 meters behind me. As I walked quickly down the beach with growing angst about where in the world Steve was, I would turn around occasionally in case he was behind me and the kids would still be 50 meters away. Weird twilight zone feeling. The current was just hauling everyone with it as fast as I could walk. Ahaha! I'm going to sit down now. My fingers were getting numb from carrying this surfboard down the beach (but I WAS looking cool). Finally, I saw him. It's funny how you can recognize someone you know even when they are just a dot on the horizon. There he was, a dot coming out of the water way out of detail discriminating view, and I knew it was him. I exhaled. It was walking toward me, and gradually the blue and yellow triangles of its board shorts became recognizable. And then the hair and the long-legged cool-dude strolling motion that we all recognize as undeniable Steve-ness.
But, that's not what made me laugh. What made me laugh was our lunch experience. There we were sitting in Costa Rica (spanish, ?Verdad?) in a restaurant called Cafe Paris (french, n'est pas), eating Biryani (an Indian rice dish) on a hamburger bun (God bless America). This was on the menu! I could not resist. This multi-cultural lunch experience gave me yet another good reeeson to laugh my head off in front of strangers (or even just in front of my incredible and incredulous husband).
I was really glad that the ocean gave Steve back to me today. I know it was hard, and I was about to say "But, I had him first", but really, the Pacific had him long before I did.

You CAN get there from here (but it takes all day)

24 km away and it took 3.25 hours to get there. I don't think we are in Kansas any more Dorothy. That did include a total of 2.5 hours waiting for the bus to pick us up at the gasolinera. 1.5 hour waiting on the way back. 2.5 hours on the bus. The total trip time was about 11 hours. We got on the 7:45 am bus this morning for Playa Guiones via the gasolinera (where we waited 2 hours). We arrived in PG about 11 and went to talk to Oscar at the Women's Surf School. He said he was the teacher. I was expecting  a woman to be the teacher. How silly of me. He charges $60 for a 2 hour lesson. Then to Cafe Paris for some snacks. Had yuca fries with chimichirru (good tomato salsa) and refried beans. Walked down the mud "highway" to Pelada beach. talked to a guy from N. Carolina. A surfer. Walked back up the beach. asked some surfers where Tico's surf shop was. It had been recommended to us by Marco here in Samara. We found Tico's. They have lessons for $60 (but sounds negotiable to some extent).  Had lunch at Beach Dog's. Saw Cacho's Surf rentals- we were told by the waitress at Beach Dog's that he might give us the best deal. $5 rental for 2 hours. Lessons $35.  We saw the cutest red crabs all over the ground there. Bright red legs, black shells with red "eyes" on the shells. Crawling sideways everywhere. It felt good in Playa Guiones. Not as "local" though as Samara. Invaded by Americans for sure. But, nicely groomed shrubs along the dirt roads and a lighter, vacation-y feeling. A lot more English here (almost - I did speak spanish to the woman in the organic food store across from the bus stop). I like that we have to speak more spanish in Samara. However, we both want to go back to Guiones.  Not much night life which according to the waitress and cook at Beach Dogs is why there are less Columbian druggies there causing trouble. We are checking into staying at Kaya Sol or Guilded Iguana or Cafe Paris or Casa Tucan. Not sure yet. The beach is light sand, wide and beautiful. The water is light blue and georgous. Waves are about chest to head high (maybe 2 meters?).Some weird brown stuff in parts. We asked about this and were told it was algae kicked up by lots of rain and just to swim where it is not.  We saw bat rays flying up out of the water. Harmless. The bus to La gasolinera was 700 colones each ($1.40). The bus to Guiones was 800 colones each ($1.60). Pretty cheap trip. Just a little toooo long. Will take pics when we move there next week. All for now!

Quiche necklace and polka toads

Yep. Last night I dreamed I was wearing a quiche around my neck. Whoa. My brain is definitely sliding into home plate at sillyville. Cheered on, of course, by the all-night yodeling sheep chorus outside our window last night. Yodeling, yes, or obnoxious party toy. Not actually sheep though.  Some kind of Costa Rican (Bavarian immigrant) toad I think. What I don't understand is why they didn't all drown? I read that while they are singing this yodel-yodel-yodel song ALL NIGHT they like to be partly submerged in water. And on top of that it was raining. When it rains here, it rains iguanas and monkeys and that's what was happening last night! ALL night. How do you keep your mouth open singing all night in this each-drop-is-a-gallon rain and not choke?? They never choke, or drown. Ever. I know I would drown if I tried that. Others had difficulties. The nice quiet, crawling-everywhere centipedes drowned in large numbers last night and they weren't even singing.  The neighborhood Iguana, alive but obviously overcome was hanging out on our steps this morning unable to move (even after being picked up by the tail by Rodrigo) and they don't spend all night with their mouths open. But, I'll bet you anything, the Bavarian Polka-Toad Boys will continue as usual again tonight.(Steve and I like to promote local talent, so if you haven't heard BPTB's latest CD, you can hear a cut on one of my previous posts that was recorded here in our home studio.  "Symphonia de frogs" (which turned out to be toads) is the name of the post.)
So, the quiche necklace dream. When I told Sarah about my dream, she said she had been craving quiche, so either her cravings are staking a claim on my dreams or I've become a craving psychic. (Call me up. I'll tell you what you are craving - $65).  Anyway, this quiche was one of those little personal-sized quiches in a round disposable aluminum pie pan on a gold necklace chain. Uh huh. Held on by a safety pin. I had somehow buttoned my blouse (blouse. when do I ever wear a blouse. And with buttons!) over part of the quiche-ette by accident, so it was kind of hanging there sticking out sideways between the buttons. I was explaining to the waiter at the restaurant I was in that I had already purchased this quiche. They wanted to charge me for it. Whoa dreams are weird. Last time I had a really wacky dream it also involved food and a restaurant. I was in a Chinese restaurant and I told the waiter: "I'll have the Duck Lips". End of dream. Do ducks have lips?

Toes on vacation

My toes with chair and flip flops

My toes waiting for the bus

My toes on the bedspread

Menage a trois toes

My toes against the black fridge

Dress for success - Samara, Costa Rica

Some important rules illustrated in this picture:

Always have your bathing suit on unless you are asleep or wearing nothing (or almost nothing) at all.


When you go to the beach, wear a cover-up that no one else would want to steal when you leave it on the beach while you are getting walloped by waves and having a lovely time and your mind is not on your belongings on the beach.

I don't know if the keys tied to the cover-up is the best idea. But, so far so good.

Notice the hands on hips are not carrying a cell phone, I-phone, laptop, or anything else of value. Don't take them with you anywhere you go when you go out. (Unfortunately, this is no joke. There was a very sad incident here last week in other-wise sweet and peaceful Samara over a meer laptop).

Symphony de Frogs with a sidetrack of Octopus Smoothies

The frogs! The frogs! They sound like some combination of a yodeling sheep choir and some kind of party toy on a stick that you spin around and annoy your parents with. I can imitate them pretty well now doing a kind of nasal "Legle legle legle" and flapping my tongue. I told you I was easily entertained! That, combined with my viral (not virile) mind and I'm pretty close to a constant fool here. Oh, and the language barrier. Today when I ordered my fresh fruit smoothie, I asked if since they were out of fresh guanabana if they had the frozen pulp (but actually I was really saying "could you just use frozen octopus?"). I remember this one-sided half smile emerging on the face of the young girl as I spoke. Hey, the words pulp and octopus are only ONE letter different. Give me a break! Pulp is pulpa. Octopus is pulpo. Any fool could do it.
Oh, so the frogs. I can't get a picture so here is a recording that Steve made of the tree frogs (Ranas) outside our window.

http://k002.kiwi6.com/hotlink/j5isagrn35/frogs_3_compressed.mp35

Las Delicias - (this is about a week old post)

We met Lena today. She has a bakery around the corner from us. She is from Columbia and makes columbian desserts and pastries. We had donuts. The word for donut in spanish is "donut". The donuts were definitely special. Just made one hour before and warmed up for us. Filled with caramel. The caramel here is as caramel should be. Buttery, light, wonderful. Like the great caramel that Heather and Gilberto (from Columbia) make for the cafe. We each ate one. She makes them every day around 1pm. I will get pictures next time. tonight a storm came in. It is pitch black at 6pm (usually only pitch grey). Bumpy clouds, thunder, cooooool air. Rain. We'll be walking to the store in the rain, I guess. We did buy an umbrella. Earlier, we had to wait out a heavy downpour and sit in the outdoor restaurant Cocos where we had nachos and coke. The waitress there is very sweet. I said "gracias" and she said "con gusto". My skin is tender today. Some sun. Steve is pink but not in pain. My mind has sort of popped out of its frame. Things that used to matter, just don't. Freer. Yes. Now, if I can just face those waves again.

The Lone Ranger and stupid

We had a spanish lesson tonight. Our teacher is Lenina. We learned (among other much more important but less aggravating things) that the opposite for the word listo (smart) is tonto (stupid). I can't believe we innocently watched The Lone Ranger not knowing his faithful Indian companion's name meant stupid. I am retroactively boycotting that show.

Lawnmower calls?

Hark! What do I hear? Could it be the Southeastern Iowa Common Lawnmower (maybe an  a. lawnboyaceae)? Uh, no. I'm in the rainforest. It is, of course, instead the introduced though now common species a. vespa, which is a small motorscooter variety that migrated here from Italy and says "Ciao". The songs are similar, though. Rrrrrrin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin. Or sometimes with the a. lawnboyaceae, (as demonstrated by Eddie Izzard) is more like Rrrrrin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin....no. Or Rrrrin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-...I-don't-think-so.
OMG, could I be homesick?

Post #3 today. A little homesick for Cafe Paradiso Sunday Brunch

But hey! Here's what we had instead. Tortillas con queso y aguacates, arroz con mango, y manzana y pina postres. Yum!!

Pablito's Bar - Here Comes the Sun

Hola! Como esta? Estoy aprendiendo espanol! No hablo muy bien y solamente un pochito. Probably wrong. Basically (if you haven't already put this in Babel Fish or speak spanish) - Hi! How are you? I'm learning to speak spanish! I don't speak very well and only a very little. Last night at Pablito's, I asked the waiter if I could have the sun! Yo soy tonto...! (I am an idiot). I meant to say sal (salt) but I said sol (sun). He very sweetly brought me the sun. The people are muy accommodating here!! Anyway, back to Pablito's Bar...our spanish teacher Leni told us there is a saying that if you haven't been to Pablito's, you haven't really been to Samara. We thought if we were going to "be" here for a month and not really "be" here, that would be kind of stupido. Leni (and our dentist Paul) said we had to have the Olla de Carne there, which comes free with your beer. So we trekked down main street, turned at the Century 21, went on down the road, past the super mercado, past several lovely Inns, past fields of horses looking at palm trees, past chickens crossing the road (why?), past La Iguana Verde with its homemade bread, past Samara Pacific School, .... past everything...except Froggies Video store, and there was Pablito's Bar! There was an excited crowd of soccer fans in the front room as Costa Rica was playing Uraguay in the Gold Cup. Pablito's has two rooms. One up front with the TV and a back room that is totally open at the back with a slanted corriegated tin roof,  a concrete floor, dogs running in and out, an old bedstead in one corner, and silverware wrapped in plastic. We were totally into it! Great atmosphere! Character! We ordered our beers and each got a "Bocca" which is the Olla de Carne. Olla (pronounced here Oja) de Carne (pronounced "meat") is like mom's beef stew it turns out. Although we both have bad memories of trying to eat our mother's beef stew, we both agreed it was actually quite tasty!  The homemade salsa (whole chunks of pepper inferno), we were told by the locals, nearly takes their heads off. Since all I have to do is glance at any hot sauce and I sweat, but not wanting to appear wimpy, I just put a 1/2 a pinky-fingernail size piece of pepper at the very edge of my dish and told the rest of my food to avoid any contact. It seeped. I sweated. Not a new experience here. Sweating is a 24 hour/day experience ... which, oddly enough, I happen to like. The table of tourists next to us ordered Chardonnay (which made me wonder if I was having one of those meaningless and just WEIRD dreams that I have sometimes when I eat too much at night). Did I hear Chardonnay?...  

Mango Ta-a-a-ang

This cracked me up. But I'm pretty easily entertained. Just the sound of it cracked me up. Mango Ta-a-a-ng. I thought this was something unique here, but I checked and it's on Wal-Mart's website in the US.  Still, I like the sound Mango Ta-a-a-ang. And I bet we don't have Horchata Tang and Pineapple Tang and Hibiscus Tang. Wait I'll check... oh man, Walmart has that too! aaaagh! Okay. well, then I'll just go surfing then.

Shiny knees and chirping geckos

The process of me being sandblasted into a diamond has begun with my knees. They shine!! Really! Like I've waxed them or something. Shiny-shiny like. Oooooooo! Steve's are shiny, too! I guess it is sand power. Well, that's about it for that subject, but I think from this I could easily seque into how the ocean is polishing up my personality. Or really it would be better to say it is revealing all my very best personal flaws. I'm spoiled. I think I can do anything. I'm longing to be cool and have someone recognize it. The ocean just laughs and fills my nostrils with salt water and sand. I'm perpetually better-than or less-than. The ocean says "oh, pleez" and tries to take my one-piece bathing suit over my head. I'm all whine-y because I am not a hotdog surfer. The ocean says "just shut up" and wraps my leash around my thigh and drags my surfboard to shore with me in tow. I love it. What an incredible opportunity we have here. Every day, I can get the caress and the slap of the ocean.  Humble. I am becoming a tiny tiny tiny person...but with really shiny knees.

Also tiny are the lizards-likes that share our apartment. We kept hearing a bird chirping in the apartment, and then found out that it's the lizard-likes that chirp. And the lizard-likes are really geckos. They make a sound like rapid-fire audible kisses. Here, listen: http://www.naturesongs.com/gecko1.wav

While I'm at it, here are the howler monkeys:
http://www.naturesongs.com/howler1.wav

Slow.....and steady......wins.....the race

Went surf-practicing today. I am not a fast learner at this sport. I hate being a slow learner, especially at sports. But, I'm slowly learning to accept it. This place. You just can't go fast here. Nothing is fast here. Maybe the lizards are fast, but that's all.
I watched Steve surf today. I'm so impressed! So proud! I so appreciate the difficulty of what he is doing. This is tuff stuff y'all. We are renting surfboards for the next 3 weeks. Wow! What a dream come true!
I would say this place is transformative, but I just don't know. I will most likely go right back to my usual pace when i return. But, just to be down-shifted for even this long has been quietly amazing. My mind seems to be fanning out in all directions, unable to focus on anything that takes any mental effort. The picture has busted out of the frame. Sometimes it's weird. Too slow. Too heavy. But then I notice something or have some thought or moment of clarity that you can only have sitting still. Going slow. Un-doing.

Tatooed by a surfboard

Laaazy today. Just want to lay around. So, today you get pictures I haven't posted yet. I've attached one of Steve's lip after it collided with his surfboard. Picturesque. Tatooed by a surfboard. He kept on surfing even though his mouth was filling up with blood. I told him he could have been shark bait, but he stuck it out (like the guys in the movie "The Bra Boys") until his hour (rental) was up. Also attached are my toes waiting for the bus.

Gilligan's Island (see link below)

Our landlord Pierre drove us 6 km to Playa de Carillo and left us to play in the waves. As we crossed the river-ette coming into town, there was a sign saying something like "Caution, crocodiles live here". Pierre pulled over to see them. He said if you tap on the bridge, they will come over and socialize. We didn't have to tap. There was a large croc lying there mostly submerged in the water. Pierre started tapping loudly on the metal bridge rail.!! Don't they say "let [peacefully half submerged crocodiles that maybe don't know you are there], lie"? Senor Cocodillo had that classic floating log look but with one eye showing and the distinctly chilling (my first chill in Costa Rica) shape of his long snout/mouth. I'm guessing 12-15 ft from nostril to tail.  Pierre said the locals swim in this river. Whaaat?
We did some body surfing - especially Steve. He is such an ocean man! We bought some water and and un aquacate (Steve the avocado man said it looked like a good one), played in the surf for a couple of hours and then caught the bus to Samara. We're going to go looking for the spanish teacher named Leny today. Pase un buen dia, ya'll!!

The theme song for the day

Back on the horse

Steve (Godbless him) captured this picture of me looking not so bad...

I am still surfing close in (kindergarten level), and still hoping to paddle out and surf with the big boys one of these days. Marco says it's going to be rough out there for a few days, so I have to wait. I asked the ocean if she would have mercy on me. She said no. Guess I better get used to being tumbled.

Squirrel alarm clock

Animals are loud here. You know how squirrels chatter at you like they are scolding you for having the nerve to be a human being? There was one outside my window this morning at 5:30 (it is light out) chattering away at megaphonic volume (the dial goes to 11 here - see Spinal Tap) and I'm sort of half ignoring it/half not (because it is imPOSSible to not notice. Lying there at least pretending to ignore it when suddenly, I swear this squirrel with trumpet lips cranks it to 12, loses all politeness and yells "get the f*** up, NOW" (in squirrelese of course, which I no hablo muy bien). Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt on that translation. Maybe I should give HER the benefit of the doubt (if that is yet another stupid human being assumption). Maybe she just thought I had earplugs in my ears (which most sane people who want to sleep do here). But, no. I could sleep through almost anything (except techno music...and I guess costa rican trumpet lipped squirrels). I heard just fine. I just didn't realize she was talking to ME. I got up and said "Whaaa?" in my mind. She seemed to hear that and went on her way. Mission accomplished. It's very nice here at 5:30am.

That would be a nice tidy ending to this, but since Steve is also keeping track of our adventure by reading this blog, I have to tell the truth (he was there), I did drift back to sleep again actually.

Rollin and tumblin

Day 3- surf school. I'm trying to be upbeat here but I feel like such a wimp. Marco did warn me that it was rough today. It started out pretty well. I got the hang of paddling out, cutting through the waves that are coming at me, sitting on my board, turning my board around. Once I actually stood up but then fell in just as the wave hit spin cycle (see link below). Lord. But in the words of an old county western song (see link #2 below) - "I'm just an old chunk of coal, but [if I keep getting tumbled in the surf like I did today], I'm going to be a diamond some day!" At least I will be round, because I will not have any corners left on my body! I mean, I'm surprised my legs are still attached. And Marco said it was only a 1 meter wave! Certainly it was more than that...
To experience this more graphically, watch the nice video that a little boy made below (you don't have to watch it all to get the point.) That is ME in there.

Washing machine spin cycle
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2JBCLxCpp4

I'm just an old chunk of coal- John Anderson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kdc64btFrII

Hiyo silver...away! And sugar wings

No more silver in my mouth. Whiteness, only whiteness, my back choppers are like nice little snowy white porcelain sinks. I was under the drill for really not that long. No novicaine (how do you spell that?). That took some faith. We americans take novocaine (wrong sp again) for granted (don't we?). I did, anyway. But, not wanting to be a wimp, I said "it is easy and simple. I will transcend-dental medication "-  (I stole that one from a comic strip years ago and I've been waiting to use it forever). It wasn't really easy and simple. I was a bit tense. I didn't realize how tense I was until the end when every muscle in my body suddenly relaxed like releasing a giant airfilled (and untied) balloon. Only I didn't go flying around the dental office spewing air and making that weird noise like an unleashed balloon would. That's a pretty slapstick-y image. Wheeee!

Going for my third surf lesson today at 11am. I'll be out there with the big boys today. Just a little tiny tiny (not so tiny) bit of fearishness about that. Like, what if I can't do it...What will I tell myself. And you! We'll see if I graduate to 2nd grade today. Steve is here now having another apple turnover type thing (like the one that gave me pregnant eyelids yesterday), only today it has little wings of caramelized sugar sticking out of the top. I hope it is symbolic of his experience in the dental chair today. He has to sit there with his mouth open for 5 hours in Nicoya (which means another hour ride on a funkybus.) Hope the time flies with sugar wings! Ciao for now.

Rastahairianism and other things to expect

Observations in Samara Costa Rica in June

Rain is fat. The air is almost as fat as the rain. I feel fat. Nothing ever dries. Money goes limp. Never assume you are being understood. Time is slippery, appointments are slippery, expectations are slippery. Skin, however, is not slippery. The ocean has its own time. Coffee with milk and an ice cube is a pretty good friend. Internet is suprisingly good. People with hair like me should convert to Rastafarian. Go with the frizz. Pastries are GOOD here, however, the one in the picture should not have been eaten on a day like today. Concrete in stomach. I will never eat again for the next few hours. Necesito una siesta ahora! My eyelids are pregnant. I have to go to an appointment now (ha-ha-ha- haaaaaa) at el dentist. I'm having my fillings replaced with diamonds. No rubies - then it would be Ruby Toothday (well, okay, it's Friday). No pearls. My jyotish says I should wear pearls. Steve is alive and well (see picture). I'm encouraging him to write to you but he is sooo busy.

Senor Iguana

This guy posed real nice for me today. He even did some pushups for me. I was impressed.

I'm going to the dentist myself today. Steve is asleep. He got a muscle relaxer from the farmacia here because he somehow hurt his back yesterday. Still has a swollen lip from a collision with his surfboard yesterday also. His dental work continues tomorrow in Nicoya.

Second day of surf school

Okay, I graduated kindergarten. Today, I learned to go sideways on the surfboard. Niiiiiiice! I liiiiiike! Saturday I get to go out beyond the white waves to the green waves. Steve is looking great! He is using a shorter board every day. He did take a bit of a crack from his surfboard though today. He's got a fat lip. Yeowch! Steve is somewhere in this picture, but I was not able to catch him standing up yet. I'll keep trying. There is a picture of Chaco (of Chaco's surf school), who is a bit famous. I'm taking lessons there. I'll get a picture of Marco, my teacher, on Saturday when i go back for lesson 3.

Arriba!

We found pina coladas and darts at a place called Arriba (which means upstairs). I don't think rum and darts are a good fit. A stray dart nearly made it off the balcony and onto a street of innocent bystanders. Our spanish really needs help. Today at lunch we ordered burritos. I said Quisiera un burrito. The nice woman said si! Then brought us a plate of pot-roast-like beef, shredded cabbage, beans and rice with a plantain on the side. We all three had a good laugh when I asked about the burrito. Need a T-cher please!

Waiting for high tide - sitting by the pool

The best time to surf is around high tide. Have to wait until 9am tomorrow for that. No dentist appointments today. So we are sitting by the pool at Bambula listening to the same two songs play over and over on some CD player somewhere out there in the "jungle" of overgrown house plants (beautiful). Salsa music sometimes sounds all the same to me, but even I could tell there were really only two songs playing for about an hour and a half. I think I can sing them both now. Our landlord Pierre came by and told us where to buy the best wine in town. He buys Italian red wine and keeps it in his fridge because it is too hot here to keep it out. By the way, Steve is doing well. He has a partial temporary set of teeth. I'm trying not to snicker. His REAL new teeth will be way more "him". He has no pain. Perpetually bathing-suited, Meret and Steve.

Iguana pushups

I didn't capture this on film, but I'll try tomorrow. I'm sitting on my porch watching an iguana on the fence doing his morning pushups. He stops now and then to eat a leaf or two. I want to join his spa.

Meret surfing...in the mirror

It was just like this. I had my first lesson today and my teacher Marco says I'm ready for Hawaii! I was so cool! Look how cool I am! (it is fun to lie...). But, no really, I did ride some baby waves in a baby sort of way. But, tomorrow he will teach me to go sideways. Wooooooo! I will report tomorrow (or not if I'm too humiliated).

View from Bambula

This is the view from our balcony at Bambula in Samara. Niiiice! In the background you can see the rooftop of the dentist's office where they are working Steve over. Spitting distance...

Monkeys in the trees

Yes. There are monkeys in the trees. Howler monkeys (they are called Congas here). Little guys with king kong size voices. And the Ranas (frogs) are tiny too and have REALLY BIG voices, especially right as you are falling asleep. The chorus begins. Doesn't affect my sleep. I've been sleeping about 12 out of 24 hours I think. Morning nap. Afternoon nap. Falling asleep at 8:00 - well one night I did.