It´s the final countdown folks, after being at this farm for a month and a half I am leaving in five days to be exact. I might as well change the title of my blog while I am at it, I am getting out of Costa Rica next weekend and heading first to Nicaragua for awhile and then to Guatemala to check out the Mayan ruins. The reason for this change? A big part of it has to do with the fact that Costa Rica really isn´t that affordable, you end up paying close to American prices for food. Second is that it is now full blown tourist season and I want nothing to do with hoardes of ignorant tourists here to spend a couple weeks partying. Finally, after having researched and talked to many a person, I have realized that heading north will provide me with the adventures and further culture shock I am seeking during this journey. Point blank; Costa Rica is Americanized. Not saying I don´t love this country and it´s inhabitants, cause I really do, but I will just have to explore it more next time.
So many are probably wondering about my farm misadventures over this last month and a half and man oh man have there been plenty. After a week of spending time working my butt off at the main farm I moved up to another piece of their property with a nice couple that turned out to be from Portland as well. The other peice of property was literally a shack in the middle of the jungle and in order to get there or to get to civilization from there, you have to walk down and then up two steep hills divided by a large river. So I probably don´t need to point out that it took a bit to get used to. We had to haul up a couple goats, three horses, four chickens, two ducks, and a partridge in a pear tree. Merry Christmas by the way. Anyhow, it took a week or so to get settled in and in the swing of things up there in our temporary home we´d come to dub Camp Neverland. The nights were spent simply enough; preparing dinner, reading, playing UNO, bitching about our days. Days were spent working in the lemon orchard adjacent to the shack or repairing the broken water pipes or some other backbreaking sweat inducing job or defending ourselves from Mr. Darcy´s attacks. Mr. Darcy is the infamous male goat we had the misfortune of watching over, he just isn´t a pleasant animal. He likes to try and butt his head into you when you´re not looking and if that´s not bad enough, he smells horrendous! Male goats enjoy urinating on their own faces, no joke, it attracts the female goats, I don´t think I´ll be imitating nature anytime soon with that one.
Neverland wasn´t that bad though, there was a lot of time to explore the surrounding jungle full of rivers, waterfalls, beautiful birds, lightning fast lizards, and drunk locals. I learned a lot about my limits, living in close proximity to animals of various sizes, and especially that I hate roosters. They don´t just crow once in the morning like it is in the movies and television, no sir, they sometimes start at four in the morning and continue through out the rest of the morning sometimes as frequently as every ten seconds. Yes, I counted, I sure as hell wasn´t sleeping. They are mean to, I watched them pick on all the other birds on the farm, including an unforgettable while stoking the fire, I heard a commotion and looked up in time to see the small black rooster jump on the back of our white duck and grab ahold of the back of her neck in his beak, the alarmed duck started running around the farm flapping it´s wings with the rooster riding it the whole time! I didn´t know whether or not to interfere or stand and watch with my jaw dropped in astonishiment... I chose the latter. He finally had enough of his duck rodeo and jumped off. Welcome to the jungle baby!
Unfortunately I am running out of time for the day and need to run off and get my mandatory town trip icecream cone and catch my bus. I missed writing this blog and unfortunately didn´t have time to keep a daily journal so I don´t feel its been the most detailed account of my trip, but next time I will finish my farm stories, including my terrible week with Dengue Fever. I hope all is well friends.
Until next time...
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Okay, okay
So I don´t have time for a full entry, I´ve got to catch my bus. Everything went okay with the first weekend here and on our own, nothing died and the family came back to a clean house. I have had a lot of crazy experiences since then but I will have to wait until next time I make it into town to tell you about them. Only two more weeks of this madness. Happy Holidays everyone. Until next time...
Tremors
(From my Journal 11.13.09)
Today was a good day, a lot of hard work and a bit shaky. At about 1:30pm while I was excavating a bunch of mud and chicken crap from in front of the coop we were hit with an earthquake. At first I thought it was a heavy crash of thunder but as Liz said, ¨Did you hear that earthquake?¨ We felt a jolt that shook everything violently for a second. I remember thinking where the hell am I going to hide and was preparing to flee to the center of the field but luckily it was a short one. I´ve only felt a few in my life but the sensation of having a normally immensely sturdy object beneath you shift is a crazy one.
At dinner we were informed that the family would be leaving for the weekend, which means we are going to be in charge of the farm... What could go wrong?
Today was a good day, a lot of hard work and a bit shaky. At about 1:30pm while I was excavating a bunch of mud and chicken crap from in front of the coop we were hit with an earthquake. At first I thought it was a heavy crash of thunder but as Liz said, ¨Did you hear that earthquake?¨ We felt a jolt that shook everything violently for a second. I remember thinking where the hell am I going to hide and was preparing to flee to the center of the field but luckily it was a short one. I´ve only felt a few in my life but the sensation of having a normally immensely sturdy object beneath you shift is a crazy one.
At dinner we were informed that the family would be leaving for the weekend, which means we are going to be in charge of the farm... What could go wrong?
The Dog Says WWOOF! (San Rafeal, Costa Rica)
(From my journal 11-12-09)
It has been a bit over 24hrs since I began my WWOOF program. For those who don´t know, WWOOF (Worldwide Oppurtunities on Organic Farms) is a volunteer program where you stay on an organic farm and work in exchange for room and board, you can do it all over the world and I am now doing it in the middle of the rain forest in a non tourist mountainous area surrounded by waterfalls and lush jungle. The farm is called Barking Horse Farm, it is amazing here and I am now doing this writing in a treehouse which is my bedroom. I am surrounded by palm trees and the noises of animals, birds, and insects of all kinds, and the pouring rain. As the name implies there are a dozen or so horses here, a dozen dogs, including seven puppies, they also have goats which they milk for cheese, a plethora of chickens, a gaggle of geese, some ducks, too many cats, and three kids (baby goats.) There are also two human kids, Olivia, 15, the resident goat keeper and Sam, 12, who is the resident tree climber, frog catcher, and torturer of his sister, Liz and Steven are the owners of this fantasy property, and finally the three WWOOFers, Tina and Frances, Germans, and me, American. As you can imagine it´s a bit of a madhouse around here and always something needed to be done. I arrived yesterday just in time for the afternoon torrential downpour, so we sat around and talked while the clouds emptied their bladders. After the rain stopped I was given a tour of the property and by the time that was done it was time for evening chores, mainly consisting of feeding the animals and cleaning. I then helped Olivia with the milking and it looked a whole lot easier when she did but by the end I was getting the hang of it. Afterwards we had dinner with the family and then the girls and I went up to the treehouses for a glass of wine and to get to know one another better and then it was time for bed. Speaking of bed there is a huge tarantula named Fang that lives in the beams above my bed. Stay up there and we will have no problems.
The next day began at six as every morning does around here and we began feeding the numerous animals and then hiked twenty minutes through the jungle and across a river to where there is another small house that they own as well with another three horses, a cat, and a goat who is off right now impregnating some females at another farm. We got back in time for strawberry pancakes and yogurt and drank starfruit juice, and discussed the days projects. I had to make a run down the road with the neighbor to collect 100lbs+ of rocks and gravel to fill in some holes around the farm, after a bit of hard labor the rains started and so we stopped working and laid around in hammocks until night chores and dinner. Now I am laying in under a mosquito net with a headlamp writing this entry. A simple life, but I don´t mind it much. For now. Goodnight Fang.
It has been a bit over 24hrs since I began my WWOOF program. For those who don´t know, WWOOF (Worldwide Oppurtunities on Organic Farms) is a volunteer program where you stay on an organic farm and work in exchange for room and board, you can do it all over the world and I am now doing it in the middle of the rain forest in a non tourist mountainous area surrounded by waterfalls and lush jungle. The farm is called Barking Horse Farm, it is amazing here and I am now doing this writing in a treehouse which is my bedroom. I am surrounded by palm trees and the noises of animals, birds, and insects of all kinds, and the pouring rain. As the name implies there are a dozen or so horses here, a dozen dogs, including seven puppies, they also have goats which they milk for cheese, a plethora of chickens, a gaggle of geese, some ducks, too many cats, and three kids (baby goats.) There are also two human kids, Olivia, 15, the resident goat keeper and Sam, 12, who is the resident tree climber, frog catcher, and torturer of his sister, Liz and Steven are the owners of this fantasy property, and finally the three WWOOFers, Tina and Frances, Germans, and me, American. As you can imagine it´s a bit of a madhouse around here and always something needed to be done. I arrived yesterday just in time for the afternoon torrential downpour, so we sat around and talked while the clouds emptied their bladders. After the rain stopped I was given a tour of the property and by the time that was done it was time for evening chores, mainly consisting of feeding the animals and cleaning. I then helped Olivia with the milking and it looked a whole lot easier when she did but by the end I was getting the hang of it. Afterwards we had dinner with the family and then the girls and I went up to the treehouses for a glass of wine and to get to know one another better and then it was time for bed. Speaking of bed there is a huge tarantula named Fang that lives in the beams above my bed. Stay up there and we will have no problems.
The next day began at six as every morning does around here and we began feeding the numerous animals and then hiked twenty minutes through the jungle and across a river to where there is another small house that they own as well with another three horses, a cat, and a goat who is off right now impregnating some females at another farm. We got back in time for strawberry pancakes and yogurt and drank starfruit juice, and discussed the days projects. I had to make a run down the road with the neighbor to collect 100lbs+ of rocks and gravel to fill in some holes around the farm, after a bit of hard labor the rains started and so we stopped working and laid around in hammocks until night chores and dinner. Now I am laying in under a mosquito net with a headlamp writing this entry. A simple life, but I don´t mind it much. For now. Goodnight Fang.
The Exciting Conclusion of Tale´s of a Vagabond
Where were we....
After eating the massive amount of icecream we went home and changed before heading out to find a peso dinner. We walked around being pointed here and there before we were all fed up and decided to go into Old Havana via local bus, as we were all running out of money. We were herded onto a packed bus and rode for awhile before getting off when we recognized one of the many beautiful statues we had seen earlier in the day. We walked through stopping here and there for beers and checking out the menus, almost everyone refused to let us eat off the posted menu and said there was a special menu for us which always turned out to be five times as much. We were all understandably getting tired of people constantly trying to take our money because we were tourists. We stopped at a place with live music playing, tired of walking. The girls ordered chicken, I ordered shrimp. My food was terrible but I ate it quickly and angrily, sick of the same story every night. The girls chicken was cold and they did the smart thing and sent it back. We decided to leave and not bother with trying a different dish. I paid for my shrimp and we informed the waiter we were leaving. He gave us some bullshit about how the front table was French and they were loving their food, as if somehow the French know great food. We left there still hungry and wandered around trying to find something cheap, quanity over quality becoming what we had to settle for. We found a place with mediocre food and filled our bellies. We all returned home, but I decided to head out to a divey peso bar I´d seen earlier where beers were only 40 cents a piece and rum was 20 cents, wishing I had known about it in the beginning. I entered into a basically empty room and sat down at the bar with the cigar Rob had given me the night before. An old man was tending bar and he spoke good enough english and we began to converse. I was a bit weary at first, as I learned to be when conversing with Cubans, but quickly warmed up discovering that he was merely an old lonely man and enjoyed my company more then anynthing. His name was Pepe and he had just turned seventy, he had been in Cuba all his life aside from a bit of travelling he did when he was young and times were better, at least monetarily. We spoke about Cuban-American relations and he confided in me early on that he felt it was time for change in their government. I was happy to hear this and began to ask the questions that had been bothering me the previous few days. The answers he gave and the things he told me brought me to the verge of tears at times. As a retiree he makes less then six dollars a month, which is why he works in the bar, the much younger bartender was paying him an undisclosed abount to work from midnight to six in the morning so he could run off and do God knows what all night. He told me that Cuba is a country where people save money in order to purchase food... FOOD! I asked him about the government supplied rations and he said they were given but meagerly. He said in general that there is just not enough food to go around, in his words, ¨people are searching for food.´´ Which I saw first hand, shops with empty shelves, restaurants with only half the menu available. It was all very sad. He said he dreamt of the idea of private property and a country where the people who had more were the ones who worked harder to get ahead. I explained, as he already knew, that Obama is working on lifting the embargos and travel restrictions, which would surely bring cheaper products and Americans with deep pockets into Cuba. Chewing on the end of his glasses he only replied, ¨ We are all waiting...¨ I left the bar that night with a lump in my throat.
I woke up the next day depressed and ready to get back to Costa Rica, so we headed back to the travel agency. After waiting awhile to be seen we discussed the situation and told the lady we wanted to head out the following morning so we could fly out with Leo. Unfortunately there were no seats and we would have to wait until Monday. I wasn´t very happy after this and told the girls I would just see them back at the hotel and began walking along the waterfront to clear my head. I walked for a couple hours before looping back around to the hotel. I stopped at a produce market and picked up a couple avocados at thirty cents apiece. I dropped them off at the room and wandered further down our road to find this pizza shop I read about in Lonely Planet. It´s called Pizza Celina and it´s prepared on the roof of a three story building. You have to yell up your order and after about five minutes he lowers it down in a basket and you throw your money in, roughly thirty cents. It was decent, or at least seemed to be after all the crap food I had eaten in Cuba thus far. I headed home half way satisfied and took a nap. I awoke and found the girls dressed to go out. I sat down to try out one of the avocados, which wasn´t the best I ever had, but I came to realize that I could travel around Cuba for ever and never once use the expression, ¨That was the best ____ I´ve ever had.¨ The girls really wanted me to go out with them and despite being determined to stay in I obliged. After it all it was Leonora´s last night before she was off to London. We went out to a couple places and they bought me a drink. Nothing too eventfull happened aside from a really bad Brazillian soap opera playing at one place. We decided to go out to the peso bar I was at the night before for a night cap. We talked to a couple older Cubanos who were infatuated with the girls, a couple ladies came in who were friends with them. One was a cute younger girl who was the neice of the other. Leo and Maya decided to go home shortly thereafter but I decided to stay and talk to this girl. I soon realized that the aunt was forcefully trying to sell me her neice and so I made up some excuse in Spanish and rushed out of there. Getting down the street I had another random girl literally begging me to pay her for sex. As soon as I turned the corner I started running straight home. I had some weird dreams that night.
The next day it was down to Maya and I. We went top the roof pizza place for lunch and then went souveneir shopping. We went home and napped before dinner, went out and ate, and came home to watch a movie on my Ipod. We were both broke! The rest of the weekend went the same, there was a terrible rainstorm that stayed overhead the whole time which was the tail of a hurricane in Nicaragua. By that point I was actually looking forward to going to San Jose. That week was by far the most stressful and eye-opening of my trip thus far. In summary; I think that Cuba is a beautiful country, despite it´s many faults, it is full of beautiful people (especially the women) and an interesting history. Did I enjoy my time there? Sure, at least I think so. Will I come back? Definately. Would I do it differently? In many ways. The US has it´s problems and I will be among the first to point them out, but after spending time in Cuba... Well...
After eating the massive amount of icecream we went home and changed before heading out to find a peso dinner. We walked around being pointed here and there before we were all fed up and decided to go into Old Havana via local bus, as we were all running out of money. We were herded onto a packed bus and rode for awhile before getting off when we recognized one of the many beautiful statues we had seen earlier in the day. We walked through stopping here and there for beers and checking out the menus, almost everyone refused to let us eat off the posted menu and said there was a special menu for us which always turned out to be five times as much. We were all understandably getting tired of people constantly trying to take our money because we were tourists. We stopped at a place with live music playing, tired of walking. The girls ordered chicken, I ordered shrimp. My food was terrible but I ate it quickly and angrily, sick of the same story every night. The girls chicken was cold and they did the smart thing and sent it back. We decided to leave and not bother with trying a different dish. I paid for my shrimp and we informed the waiter we were leaving. He gave us some bullshit about how the front table was French and they were loving their food, as if somehow the French know great food. We left there still hungry and wandered around trying to find something cheap, quanity over quality becoming what we had to settle for. We found a place with mediocre food and filled our bellies. We all returned home, but I decided to head out to a divey peso bar I´d seen earlier where beers were only 40 cents a piece and rum was 20 cents, wishing I had known about it in the beginning. I entered into a basically empty room and sat down at the bar with the cigar Rob had given me the night before. An old man was tending bar and he spoke good enough english and we began to converse. I was a bit weary at first, as I learned to be when conversing with Cubans, but quickly warmed up discovering that he was merely an old lonely man and enjoyed my company more then anynthing. His name was Pepe and he had just turned seventy, he had been in Cuba all his life aside from a bit of travelling he did when he was young and times were better, at least monetarily. We spoke about Cuban-American relations and he confided in me early on that he felt it was time for change in their government. I was happy to hear this and began to ask the questions that had been bothering me the previous few days. The answers he gave and the things he told me brought me to the verge of tears at times. As a retiree he makes less then six dollars a month, which is why he works in the bar, the much younger bartender was paying him an undisclosed abount to work from midnight to six in the morning so he could run off and do God knows what all night. He told me that Cuba is a country where people save money in order to purchase food... FOOD! I asked him about the government supplied rations and he said they were given but meagerly. He said in general that there is just not enough food to go around, in his words, ¨people are searching for food.´´ Which I saw first hand, shops with empty shelves, restaurants with only half the menu available. It was all very sad. He said he dreamt of the idea of private property and a country where the people who had more were the ones who worked harder to get ahead. I explained, as he already knew, that Obama is working on lifting the embargos and travel restrictions, which would surely bring cheaper products and Americans with deep pockets into Cuba. Chewing on the end of his glasses he only replied, ¨ We are all waiting...¨ I left the bar that night with a lump in my throat.
I woke up the next day depressed and ready to get back to Costa Rica, so we headed back to the travel agency. After waiting awhile to be seen we discussed the situation and told the lady we wanted to head out the following morning so we could fly out with Leo. Unfortunately there were no seats and we would have to wait until Monday. I wasn´t very happy after this and told the girls I would just see them back at the hotel and began walking along the waterfront to clear my head. I walked for a couple hours before looping back around to the hotel. I stopped at a produce market and picked up a couple avocados at thirty cents apiece. I dropped them off at the room and wandered further down our road to find this pizza shop I read about in Lonely Planet. It´s called Pizza Celina and it´s prepared on the roof of a three story building. You have to yell up your order and after about five minutes he lowers it down in a basket and you throw your money in, roughly thirty cents. It was decent, or at least seemed to be after all the crap food I had eaten in Cuba thus far. I headed home half way satisfied and took a nap. I awoke and found the girls dressed to go out. I sat down to try out one of the avocados, which wasn´t the best I ever had, but I came to realize that I could travel around Cuba for ever and never once use the expression, ¨That was the best ____ I´ve ever had.¨ The girls really wanted me to go out with them and despite being determined to stay in I obliged. After it all it was Leonora´s last night before she was off to London. We went out to a couple places and they bought me a drink. Nothing too eventfull happened aside from a really bad Brazillian soap opera playing at one place. We decided to go out to the peso bar I was at the night before for a night cap. We talked to a couple older Cubanos who were infatuated with the girls, a couple ladies came in who were friends with them. One was a cute younger girl who was the neice of the other. Leo and Maya decided to go home shortly thereafter but I decided to stay and talk to this girl. I soon realized that the aunt was forcefully trying to sell me her neice and so I made up some excuse in Spanish and rushed out of there. Getting down the street I had another random girl literally begging me to pay her for sex. As soon as I turned the corner I started running straight home. I had some weird dreams that night.
The next day it was down to Maya and I. We went top the roof pizza place for lunch and then went souveneir shopping. We went home and napped before dinner, went out and ate, and came home to watch a movie on my Ipod. We were both broke! The rest of the weekend went the same, there was a terrible rainstorm that stayed overhead the whole time which was the tail of a hurricane in Nicaragua. By that point I was actually looking forward to going to San Jose. That week was by far the most stressful and eye-opening of my trip thus far. In summary; I think that Cuba is a beautiful country, despite it´s many faults, it is full of beautiful people (especially the women) and an interesting history. Did I enjoy my time there? Sure, at least I think so. Will I come back? Definately. Would I do it differently? In many ways. The US has it´s problems and I will be among the first to point them out, but after spending time in Cuba... Well...
Monday, November 9, 2009
Tales of a Vagabond -Jaco Beach, Costa Rica y Havana, Cuba
Halloween weekend was spent in Jaco and I can tell you that I will never visit that horrific city again. Let's start from the beginning; I awoke the Friday before, in Manuel Antonio, a bit sick from the night previous, packed my stuff, and after lunch headed to the the bus station in Quepos north of town. It was terribly hot and I baked in the sun whilst waiting to board the bus. Shortly before ascending the bus steps I met some fellow travellers and quickly became friends with them. There were three Germans (Dennis, Peter, and Miriam) and two English lads (Ant and Andrew) and together we made the two hour trip. I quickly realized upon entering Jaco that the things I read were all true. Jaco is a dirty small surfing town and I had the luxury of previewing it in total as we hadnt know where to get off and the bus driver kicked us off as we approached the other side of town. We began the trek to the complete other side of town to where the hostels were located, it wasn't too much fun as it was very hot and I was carrying 50lbs on my back. We arrived to the general area and my new friends decided to stay in a cabina while I opted for a cheaper dormitory style accomodation on my own. In the ramshackle dorm were twelve beds and I shared the room with three germans and two norwegian girls, none of whom I got to know over the weekend.
After getting showered and settled in I proceeded to the cabina to meet up with the other travellers and during the one block journey I was offered drugs something like 10 times which I learned later is the norm in this town. I arrived to the other lodging drug free and we sat around chatting for awhile before heading out to see what the night had to offer. The bars were all infested with tourists all though there were some stunning Ticas here and there which I determined to be prostitutes seeing that the majority of them were with old american men who appeared to have money, it was all quite disgusting. We had met a couple of locals and also ran into Fabian, Jonathon, Maya, and April, friends from San Jose, so our party was getting quite large. I asked the locals to take us to where all the locals hangout and we were off. We arrived at a Latin music hell, complete with strobe lights, coked out Ticos, and transvestites. We left sooner then later which was probably a wise decision on our part, we were being told to watch out for theives and none of the people cared for tourists or Ticos from San Jose apparently. We went to a few other places but everything was the same story, prostitutes, drugs, and old dirty guys searching for one or the other. The night approached the end and I was walking towards my hostel accompanied by one of the local guys we'd met and we sat on a busstop to finish our beers. I saw a couple gorgeous girls walking by and one stopped and blatently told me her price at which point I told her she was beautiful but I don't pay for such things and she walked off and I imagine I was more disappointed then her. A moment later three older prostitutes came up and sat down being a bit more pushy (probably due to their lack of youth and good looks) I told them the same thing, minus the beautiful part, but jokingly said they could buy me if they would like. They laughed and asked how much, I said 10,000 colones (roughly $17,) they said it to much, Whores! The funny thing is as I was joking about prices Maya and Fabian came walking by and Maya started pulling me away saying she was rescuing me from making a bad decision. I explained the situation and the fact that the prices were for my body. C'mon Maya, your boy has better taste then that, really now. Anyhow, I went to bed alone and exhausted.
The next morning after situating myself I went to the apartment of Jonathans friend where all my San Jose friends were staying at for free. I napped for a bit and then had them drop me off in town on their way to the beach, as I desperately needed to get laundry done. Afterwards I stopped by to see what shape my recently made friends were in and found them just waking up, crazy europeans. They prepared me a delicious BBQ dinner and we went out again into a very uneventful All Hallows Eve, I would of gone home early but Andrew and Ant kept buying me beers so I obliged and ended up sitting on the beach until the sun began to tell me what time it was. I went and got a couple hours sleep on their hammock and woke up to head back to the apartment, we exchanged information with the plans of meeting up in January. I got back to the apartment and insteaded of leaving an hour later we left almost three hours later as Maya was late as usual. We headed back over the fog shrouded mountains back into San Jose. I wasn't sure where I was going to stay but Jonathon, the nephew of my host mother from before, suggested I stay with her for the night. After a quick call it was all arranged and I arrived at the house to a warm greeting, a hot meal, and an offer to do my laundry. I can't get over how warm and selfless Costa Ricans can be and I will never forget Liz's hospitality.
I awoke the next day at six in the a.m as my plane to Cuba waited. I was again fed an enormous bowl of fruit and some bread with ham and left to meet Maya over at Jonathan's house. We caught the cab to the airport and I hit the ATM to withdrawl all the money I thought I would need over the next twelve days in Cuba, for my American card would not work there for obvious reasons. I approached the counter to check in and asked me after a few other questions if I had any lighters in my check in or on my person, which I 5 in my bag for matters of preparedness, he said I had to remove them which I was very confused about because even in my lovely post 9/11 America I can have lighters in my checkin luggage and my carry on. Oh well. I removed them at which point I ran into Leonora the third member in our communist country bound party. My entorage and I headed to the gate to board all excited and a bit nervous about what was in store for us. The flight was uneventful, the food unedible, and the inflight movie unwatchable as per usual, but the scenery as we approached Cuba was absolutely stunning, beautiful blue-green waters climbing onto white sand beaches covered in palm trees.
We thought all was well and the journey was over but upon entering the airport realized that this was far from the case. We were greeted by men and women in uniform wearing face masks, whom approached us periodically to ask random questions and gave us a medical questionairre to fill out. All this because of the lovely swine flu crisis, which would definately spread quickly in Havana due to their lack of sanitation or hygiene which I would soon come to find out. After you fill out that you are sent to a booth where another person in a mask asks you to look into this camera directly in front of you either for passport photo matching purposes or some lie detection, either way it all felt very Orwellian which was seen more and more as I stayed in Cuba. After that you are buzzed through a door at which point all your stuff is xrayed again and you are thrown through another metal detector as if they do not trust the place you took off from. A guard then asks for your passport and walks off to discuss it with some other officers, you then go to another booth to drop off your survey and are asked another series of questions with the final one being "How do you feel?" Estoy bien was my answer and I was allowed to pass. I was now in baggage claim where two dogs were sniffing out everyones bags and I finally got mine off the conveyor. I searched for the guard to retrieve my passport at which point he told me to wait for a minute. We all sat around and waited for awhile before the guard, wearing a mask as well, asked me a more questions, mostly ones I've been asked already. It was all very annoying and I just wanted to get the hell out of there, but finally I answered all his questions and was allowed to proceed into the main airport where we could change money. I handed over 220 hard earned dollars and was given back 179 CUC, there is an 18% tax which I assume goes mainly into Fidel's pocket if he is actually still alive, his brothers if he is not. We haggled for a taxi into town for 20 CUC and approached Havana, the country is absolutely stunning with old half demolished cement structures here and there, all sorts of old Caddilacs, Lincolns, Bel-airs, and all sorts of other pre-embargo American cars, along with a bunch of european cars. We arrived to where we were going to stay, a casa particular, a private house where you rent rooms. The old european looking buildings were three or four stories all around which were seperated by dirty old streets with numerous children running around laughing, and plenty of people walking the narrow sidewalks. The gentleman who owned the house was a nice, jovial, older man, who spoke good english. He explained the in's and out's of Havana, the do's and don'ts, and finally how to use a key to open and lock all the doors which was, in itself, an amazingly long and amusing process. The rooms themselves were 20 CUC apiece, which is a lot but not when you consider that the government charges them 630 CUC a month in order to run this little operation. We all setup our temporary home and got showered and changed in order to begin our exploration of this new and foriegn land.
We were all pretty hungry at this point so we decided that food was to be the first thing on our agenda and we discovered quickly that it wasnt as easy to do as one would think. We ended up at a small hamburger place and were going over the menu when Maya began conversing with a local woman. She explained that there was a restaurant down the way and soon we were following her through back streets and ultimately ended up at some private residence (which is a common place to eat and is viciously taxed by the government, although I don't know the exact numbers.) I must insert a footnote here that the people are very pushy, polite, but persistent. They know that we have money and the fact that they are very poor, with a wage of 12CUC a month, try to get money out of you any which way they can. Violent crime is next to unheard of but this is something you have to watch out for. Anyhow, they tried to charge us 10CUC a person for dinner which we explained is ridiculous and talked them down to 4CUC which was still rather high but they wouldnt shut up until we accepted the meal. I was literally forced down into a chair at the table and we all sat not knowing what to expect next. The meal itself was not half bad, consisting of pork, rice, beans, and some yuca (a potato like vegetable,) although during the meal the family was constantly snorting up snot like some sick pigs. At one point during this interesting dinner the older women who spoke only spanish asked us if we were catholics, which we answered yes, assuming it was the appropriate answer and not wanting to open up lines of conversation. I guess we were wrong, she asked us how many gods we believed in, which we answered one obviously, she kind of scoffed which is when we took notice of the strange doll in one corner and a bucket with a tortoise shell, an axe, and some sort of creepy mask in it. One of the other main religions is a bit more hush hush in Cuba, having roots in Africa and being a bit like voodoo. Needless to say we finished our meals in a hurry, paid the lady and exited the house vowing to never to that again. It was the first of many rules we would make for Havana during our stay. There are many jinteros as they are called, hustlers, that you are told to ignore. They ask you, "Where are you from friend?" or, "Do you want a cigar?" If you answer the first they usually "have a friend" there or close to there and proceed to explain why they need money for this or that. If you answer yes to the second one they will usually try to sell you a fake or third rate cigar for an exorbitant price. Proceed with caution, or as we did, ignore them.
The next piece of madness began as we searched for a drink and began to explore "Chinatown." There is a guantlet of restuarants on a narrow street with waiters standing out in front of each literally jumping in front of you to show you their menus and what they have to offer, trying to persuade you with free drinks and such. It is a desperate, sad circus of sorts, that you have to basically just duck your head and powerwalk through. We stopped at a few random places at which point I got the guidebook out and found a bar that we should go to. We walked past the spectacular capital building that is modeled after the capital building in the states, and arrived at a bar that houses cheap cocktails and live cuban music, The Monserrate. We met a larger Cuban/Italian women with fake blue eyes next to us, she was crazy, but nice, and spoke no english, we dubbed her Ursela. At one point Leonora convinced her I wanted to dance and so I got up and did my best Salsa steps, which Leo seemed impressed with so maybe I will have to take up Salsa lessons before I return to Latin America. Ursela seemed to enjoy it and truth be told I had fun myself. After the band packed up they started playing trash american music and so we took that as a cue to head back home and get some rest before our beach trip the following morning.
We woke up Tuesday morning and had breakfast at the house we were staying at which was included in our room price, oh joy! It consisted of eggs, bread, juice, and a fiercely strong coffee. Afterwards he headed back towards the capital building in order to catch the bus to the beach. The bus was a comfortable, overly air conditioned, tourist bus at a reasonable price of 3 CUC for an all day pass. We got to a beach that I never got the name of, but the area was called Playa Este if anyone cares. The beach was surreal, the type I've only seen in posters, tv, and the like. White sands, magnificent waters, and a plethora of coconut trees. I was even able to fandangle one out of a tree and enjoy the delicious nectar within (that sounds kind of erotic.) We swam for a bit and I again missed my camera, as the water would have made for some great underwater shots, oh well. After swimming in the calm waves we made our way back to the sand to lay out and work on our tans that we were now acquiring after so much sun worshipping. I know rough life, sorry to rub it in... Suckers! At some point a young local man came up and asked the now tiresome question of "Where are you from?" Leo and I ignored him, but Maya answered and the guy kept talking to her, asking if she'd watch his clothes while he went in for a swim. He went off into the water and the girls decided to get out of the sun and up into the shade for awhile. The guy came back and, of course, laid down next to Maya. I remained where I was, half listening for any calls of distress or lewd comments from the Cuban. I decided that since it was Maya who got herself into this situation, that she could deal with it for awhile. After the guy left the girls began to explain to me that the entire time he was laying there he had a full blown erection! They were obviously disgusted, I was slightly amused... I imagine Maya will keep her mouth shut next time. We all laugh about it now though, so no harm no foul. We left the beach and got on the bus after a quick stop for refreshments at a little hut.
Getting home, showering, and changing, we quickly realized we hadn't since breakfast and were all getting a bit ornery. We headed out to find some dinner, all the while dodging questions from the jinteros, and bitching about Cuba. We decided to give one of the restaurants in "Chinatown" a shot (mind you, there are no Chinese in Chinatown.) After looking over the menus we decided on a place that looked okay and affordable, alright, the girls chose a place cause I just sat down and told them to figure it out, not wanting to be involved in there indecisiveness. The place was ridiculous and R. Kelly videos were playing on the TV. I ordered some pork rice dish and the ladies for some reason in a restaurant in Chinatown, decided to order pizza of all things. How was it girls? My dish was so-so, the girls complained that there pizza was too salty and not good at all, big suprise... After yet another amazing Cuban meal we headed back to the bar we were at the night before, hoping to wash the bad taste out of our mouth. On the way inside I decided I wanted to go find a Cigar at a store I thought I had seen the day prior. The shop was closed so I asked a gentleman working at an "upscale" restaurant about where to find one. He whistled and made a waving gesture and guy came out of the shadows, he told me to follow him and the other guy said it was okay. So I followed this guy through some back streets and up some stairs into an apartment, there was another guy up there who pulled out a five gallon bucket full of boxes of different nice cigars. I explained that I just wanted one cigar and they acted like it was a full box or nothing so I said thanks, but no thanks, and walked out. Sure enough I was chased down the stairs by the guy saying that I could buy one for 5 CUC, I said four, he said okay, and off I went with a fancy Cohiba in my hand. I arrived to the bar to find the girls sitting with their mojitos, enjoying some live music. I ordered myself a drink and after awhile decided it was time to try out my recently acquired tobacco. I lacked the proper tools, but looking around I saw a middle aged guy enjoying a cigar of his and approached him. He had an obviously American accent, so I bagan to talk to him and found out he was from outside of Denver, Colorado. He helped me get my cigar cut and lit and I invited him to join our table if he'd like. His name was Robb if my memory serves me correctly. We all chatted for awhile and he told us about all the places we need to go and how to eat cheap, more on that later. He took off after a couple hours, but not before giving me another cigar to enjoy whenever, nice guy. After another round the ladies and I decided it was time for us to leave as well and asked for the check. The total was 39 CUC and mind you I stayed within my 10 CUC budget for the evening. The girls apparently didn't realize that their mojitos were 3 CUC apiece and obviously had several, but apparently didn't have the money to cover all of it and I had no more then I mentioned myself. Instead of explaining the situation to the waiter and running back to the house to retrieve more cash, Maya decided that it would be a good idea to leave the 29 CUC we had a dash. Before I had time to interject the girls were already out the door, I rose from the table not sure what to do as the waiter came over and grabbed the money. He told me to hold on a minute as the check itself had disappeared, I asked if everything was okay and he said no and sent the doorguy after the girls. I explained to everyone that I did not have the check and emptied my pockets to prove this. Maya and Leo came back in escorted by the large, bald, black, doorguy. Leo's purse was emptied to see if she had the check which she didn't and Maya played innocent Swiss girl, not having any pockets, or a purse. I had though faintly remembered her doing something with it though and whispered that she'd better find it now. She began searching around saying maybe it fell somewhere, Leo sat frustrated with the situation, and I headed to the bathroom having had enough of the entire charade that I had nothing to do with. As I was washing up, the bathroom attendent, whom I befriended earlier, came in and told me that the check had been found. "Of course it did," I replied and we both shook our heads and laughed. So I told the girls to take off and grab the cash and return while I waited there as ransom. The crew seemed happy enough with this arrangement, but joked that if they didn't come back then the big chef would have his way with me (I hope it was a joke.) During the long wait I talked with some older Canadians who were pretty amused with the situation and honestly, I was pretty amused with it at this point as well. The girls returned and the first thing Maya did was come up to me and say I blame you, as if it was me who masterminded this scheme and denied any involvement. After it was all sorted out I was actually joking and chatting with the workers about the situation and everything else, everyone seems pretty thrilled with the idea of having a gringo in Cuba. We left on friendly terms with the guys and although were invited back, decided we probably should avoid the place for the rest of the trip. On the walk home I managed to get a confession out of Maya; she had in fact taken the check and threw it over the fence. Leo and I were fairly steamed about this, not so much because of what had happened, but because she tried to blame the two of us for everything. After the fact of the matter we all went to bed and woke up the next day in better moods.
We set off Wednesday morning in search of all the wonderful places Robb had told us about. They were all in Havana Vieja (Old Havana,) which was a bit of a walk away so first we decided to get the cheap eating figured out first. So here is the deal, there are two currencies, the Cuban Convertible (CUC) and the Cuban Peso (CUP.) 1 CUC= 24 CUP. You go to a bank of sorts and you can trade x amount of CUC for the respective amount of CUP and in turn you can go to peso street vendors where all the Cubanos eat and buy food for dirt cheap. For instance, we bought decent size ham sandwiches for 10 CUP, the equivolent of 50 cents US, that's cheap and cheerful as Leonora would say. Not saying the sandwiches or any of the other peso food was good, but you soon learn in Cuba that you eat in order to fill your stomach, not to actually enjoy the food itself. After our cheap meal we headed though Havana Viejo, which contained some awe inspiring buildings and plazas that seemed more reminiscent of a European town. We ended up at Plaza de Catedral(?) which, as the name suggests, is home to an enormous cathedral. I stepped inside and stood dumbfounded by the magnitude of it all, I unfortunately didn't do any research on it and am to lazy at the time of this writing to do so, but it's real, real, old... The entire Old Havana area is immaculately maintained, it is where all the tourism is after all, and is the polar opposite of the area we were staying in, full of buildings in disarray and filthy, foul smelling, streets. After we had our fill of culture we decided to start heading back, during the walked I spotted a place called Cafe O'Reillys that I had to check out. It was merely an Irish pub in esthetics but it was enough to send me thinking about one of my watering holes back home, Moon and Sixpence. We finally got back to the Central Park area and hailed a cab to take us to a more contemporary area west of there to change our flight plans. I mentioned earliar that we were going to stay for 12 days, but Cuba proved to be much more expensive then anticipated and Maya and I wanted to take off on Friday, which is when Leo's flight was. We arrived at the airlines sattelite office and were sent to another place as our tickets had been booked through a travel agency. We arrived at this place to be sent to another place, and another, and after walking around for awhile we ended back at the original correct place to find it closed. We were all very frustrated and tired from all the walking we had done that day and I decided the best remedy was to get some icecream from this place I had read about in Lonely Planet that was only a few blocks from where we were at. The place is called Coppelia's and is described in the book as a cultural phenomenon that had to be experienced firsthand. We arrived to a park like area with pathways on each of the four sides leading to a central area with tents and some large blue structure. Not really knowing exactly how it worked we stood in the line at the path closest to us, we were the only tourists in line and in fact in the whole area which is the kind of place I prefer travelling to. After what seemed like twenty to thirty minutes we were in front of this thirty person and were being ushered down the pathway and, still not knowing what was going on, just follow the people in front of us. We were seated under a red and white striped canopy and a waitress came to take our order. I said give us what the table next to us was having and shortly there after we each were given two bowls containing five scoops of coconut flavored icecream apiece; that is thirty scoops of icecream sitting at our table in the heat of the day, so we had to work fast. I had no problems and wolfed down my ten scoops with childlike delight. The bill was only 30 CUP, thats $1.20 American. We left severely bloated, yet satisfied.
Tune in next time to see the conclusion of Tales of a Vagabond or Cuban Missle Crisis...
Until next time....
After getting showered and settled in I proceeded to the cabina to meet up with the other travellers and during the one block journey I was offered drugs something like 10 times which I learned later is the norm in this town. I arrived to the other lodging drug free and we sat around chatting for awhile before heading out to see what the night had to offer. The bars were all infested with tourists all though there were some stunning Ticas here and there which I determined to be prostitutes seeing that the majority of them were with old american men who appeared to have money, it was all quite disgusting. We had met a couple of locals and also ran into Fabian, Jonathon, Maya, and April, friends from San Jose, so our party was getting quite large. I asked the locals to take us to where all the locals hangout and we were off. We arrived at a Latin music hell, complete with strobe lights, coked out Ticos, and transvestites. We left sooner then later which was probably a wise decision on our part, we were being told to watch out for theives and none of the people cared for tourists or Ticos from San Jose apparently. We went to a few other places but everything was the same story, prostitutes, drugs, and old dirty guys searching for one or the other. The night approached the end and I was walking towards my hostel accompanied by one of the local guys we'd met and we sat on a busstop to finish our beers. I saw a couple gorgeous girls walking by and one stopped and blatently told me her price at which point I told her she was beautiful but I don't pay for such things and she walked off and I imagine I was more disappointed then her. A moment later three older prostitutes came up and sat down being a bit more pushy (probably due to their lack of youth and good looks) I told them the same thing, minus the beautiful part, but jokingly said they could buy me if they would like. They laughed and asked how much, I said 10,000 colones (roughly $17,) they said it to much, Whores! The funny thing is as I was joking about prices Maya and Fabian came walking by and Maya started pulling me away saying she was rescuing me from making a bad decision. I explained the situation and the fact that the prices were for my body. C'mon Maya, your boy has better taste then that, really now. Anyhow, I went to bed alone and exhausted.
The next morning after situating myself I went to the apartment of Jonathans friend where all my San Jose friends were staying at for free. I napped for a bit and then had them drop me off in town on their way to the beach, as I desperately needed to get laundry done. Afterwards I stopped by to see what shape my recently made friends were in and found them just waking up, crazy europeans. They prepared me a delicious BBQ dinner and we went out again into a very uneventful All Hallows Eve, I would of gone home early but Andrew and Ant kept buying me beers so I obliged and ended up sitting on the beach until the sun began to tell me what time it was. I went and got a couple hours sleep on their hammock and woke up to head back to the apartment, we exchanged information with the plans of meeting up in January. I got back to the apartment and insteaded of leaving an hour later we left almost three hours later as Maya was late as usual. We headed back over the fog shrouded mountains back into San Jose. I wasn't sure where I was going to stay but Jonathon, the nephew of my host mother from before, suggested I stay with her for the night. After a quick call it was all arranged and I arrived at the house to a warm greeting, a hot meal, and an offer to do my laundry. I can't get over how warm and selfless Costa Ricans can be and I will never forget Liz's hospitality.
I awoke the next day at six in the a.m as my plane to Cuba waited. I was again fed an enormous bowl of fruit and some bread with ham and left to meet Maya over at Jonathan's house. We caught the cab to the airport and I hit the ATM to withdrawl all the money I thought I would need over the next twelve days in Cuba, for my American card would not work there for obvious reasons. I approached the counter to check in and asked me after a few other questions if I had any lighters in my check in or on my person, which I 5 in my bag for matters of preparedness, he said I had to remove them which I was very confused about because even in my lovely post 9/11 America I can have lighters in my checkin luggage and my carry on. Oh well. I removed them at which point I ran into Leonora the third member in our communist country bound party. My entorage and I headed to the gate to board all excited and a bit nervous about what was in store for us. The flight was uneventful, the food unedible, and the inflight movie unwatchable as per usual, but the scenery as we approached Cuba was absolutely stunning, beautiful blue-green waters climbing onto white sand beaches covered in palm trees.
We thought all was well and the journey was over but upon entering the airport realized that this was far from the case. We were greeted by men and women in uniform wearing face masks, whom approached us periodically to ask random questions and gave us a medical questionairre to fill out. All this because of the lovely swine flu crisis, which would definately spread quickly in Havana due to their lack of sanitation or hygiene which I would soon come to find out. After you fill out that you are sent to a booth where another person in a mask asks you to look into this camera directly in front of you either for passport photo matching purposes or some lie detection, either way it all felt very Orwellian which was seen more and more as I stayed in Cuba. After that you are buzzed through a door at which point all your stuff is xrayed again and you are thrown through another metal detector as if they do not trust the place you took off from. A guard then asks for your passport and walks off to discuss it with some other officers, you then go to another booth to drop off your survey and are asked another series of questions with the final one being "How do you feel?" Estoy bien was my answer and I was allowed to pass. I was now in baggage claim where two dogs were sniffing out everyones bags and I finally got mine off the conveyor. I searched for the guard to retrieve my passport at which point he told me to wait for a minute. We all sat around and waited for awhile before the guard, wearing a mask as well, asked me a more questions, mostly ones I've been asked already. It was all very annoying and I just wanted to get the hell out of there, but finally I answered all his questions and was allowed to proceed into the main airport where we could change money. I handed over 220 hard earned dollars and was given back 179 CUC, there is an 18% tax which I assume goes mainly into Fidel's pocket if he is actually still alive, his brothers if he is not. We haggled for a taxi into town for 20 CUC and approached Havana, the country is absolutely stunning with old half demolished cement structures here and there, all sorts of old Caddilacs, Lincolns, Bel-airs, and all sorts of other pre-embargo American cars, along with a bunch of european cars. We arrived to where we were going to stay, a casa particular, a private house where you rent rooms. The old european looking buildings were three or four stories all around which were seperated by dirty old streets with numerous children running around laughing, and plenty of people walking the narrow sidewalks. The gentleman who owned the house was a nice, jovial, older man, who spoke good english. He explained the in's and out's of Havana, the do's and don'ts, and finally how to use a key to open and lock all the doors which was, in itself, an amazingly long and amusing process. The rooms themselves were 20 CUC apiece, which is a lot but not when you consider that the government charges them 630 CUC a month in order to run this little operation. We all setup our temporary home and got showered and changed in order to begin our exploration of this new and foriegn land.
We were all pretty hungry at this point so we decided that food was to be the first thing on our agenda and we discovered quickly that it wasnt as easy to do as one would think. We ended up at a small hamburger place and were going over the menu when Maya began conversing with a local woman. She explained that there was a restaurant down the way and soon we were following her through back streets and ultimately ended up at some private residence (which is a common place to eat and is viciously taxed by the government, although I don't know the exact numbers.) I must insert a footnote here that the people are very pushy, polite, but persistent. They know that we have money and the fact that they are very poor, with a wage of 12CUC a month, try to get money out of you any which way they can. Violent crime is next to unheard of but this is something you have to watch out for. Anyhow, they tried to charge us 10CUC a person for dinner which we explained is ridiculous and talked them down to 4CUC which was still rather high but they wouldnt shut up until we accepted the meal. I was literally forced down into a chair at the table and we all sat not knowing what to expect next. The meal itself was not half bad, consisting of pork, rice, beans, and some yuca (a potato like vegetable,) although during the meal the family was constantly snorting up snot like some sick pigs. At one point during this interesting dinner the older women who spoke only spanish asked us if we were catholics, which we answered yes, assuming it was the appropriate answer and not wanting to open up lines of conversation. I guess we were wrong, she asked us how many gods we believed in, which we answered one obviously, she kind of scoffed which is when we took notice of the strange doll in one corner and a bucket with a tortoise shell, an axe, and some sort of creepy mask in it. One of the other main religions is a bit more hush hush in Cuba, having roots in Africa and being a bit like voodoo. Needless to say we finished our meals in a hurry, paid the lady and exited the house vowing to never to that again. It was the first of many rules we would make for Havana during our stay. There are many jinteros as they are called, hustlers, that you are told to ignore. They ask you, "Where are you from friend?" or, "Do you want a cigar?" If you answer the first they usually "have a friend" there or close to there and proceed to explain why they need money for this or that. If you answer yes to the second one they will usually try to sell you a fake or third rate cigar for an exorbitant price. Proceed with caution, or as we did, ignore them.
The next piece of madness began as we searched for a drink and began to explore "Chinatown." There is a guantlet of restuarants on a narrow street with waiters standing out in front of each literally jumping in front of you to show you their menus and what they have to offer, trying to persuade you with free drinks and such. It is a desperate, sad circus of sorts, that you have to basically just duck your head and powerwalk through. We stopped at a few random places at which point I got the guidebook out and found a bar that we should go to. We walked past the spectacular capital building that is modeled after the capital building in the states, and arrived at a bar that houses cheap cocktails and live cuban music, The Monserrate. We met a larger Cuban/Italian women with fake blue eyes next to us, she was crazy, but nice, and spoke no english, we dubbed her Ursela. At one point Leonora convinced her I wanted to dance and so I got up and did my best Salsa steps, which Leo seemed impressed with so maybe I will have to take up Salsa lessons before I return to Latin America. Ursela seemed to enjoy it and truth be told I had fun myself. After the band packed up they started playing trash american music and so we took that as a cue to head back home and get some rest before our beach trip the following morning.
We woke up Tuesday morning and had breakfast at the house we were staying at which was included in our room price, oh joy! It consisted of eggs, bread, juice, and a fiercely strong coffee. Afterwards he headed back towards the capital building in order to catch the bus to the beach. The bus was a comfortable, overly air conditioned, tourist bus at a reasonable price of 3 CUC for an all day pass. We got to a beach that I never got the name of, but the area was called Playa Este if anyone cares. The beach was surreal, the type I've only seen in posters, tv, and the like. White sands, magnificent waters, and a plethora of coconut trees. I was even able to fandangle one out of a tree and enjoy the delicious nectar within (that sounds kind of erotic.) We swam for a bit and I again missed my camera, as the water would have made for some great underwater shots, oh well. After swimming in the calm waves we made our way back to the sand to lay out and work on our tans that we were now acquiring after so much sun worshipping. I know rough life, sorry to rub it in... Suckers! At some point a young local man came up and asked the now tiresome question of "Where are you from?" Leo and I ignored him, but Maya answered and the guy kept talking to her, asking if she'd watch his clothes while he went in for a swim. He went off into the water and the girls decided to get out of the sun and up into the shade for awhile. The guy came back and, of course, laid down next to Maya. I remained where I was, half listening for any calls of distress or lewd comments from the Cuban. I decided that since it was Maya who got herself into this situation, that she could deal with it for awhile. After the guy left the girls began to explain to me that the entire time he was laying there he had a full blown erection! They were obviously disgusted, I was slightly amused... I imagine Maya will keep her mouth shut next time. We all laugh about it now though, so no harm no foul. We left the beach and got on the bus after a quick stop for refreshments at a little hut.
Getting home, showering, and changing, we quickly realized we hadn't since breakfast and were all getting a bit ornery. We headed out to find some dinner, all the while dodging questions from the jinteros, and bitching about Cuba. We decided to give one of the restaurants in "Chinatown" a shot (mind you, there are no Chinese in Chinatown.) After looking over the menus we decided on a place that looked okay and affordable, alright, the girls chose a place cause I just sat down and told them to figure it out, not wanting to be involved in there indecisiveness. The place was ridiculous and R. Kelly videos were playing on the TV. I ordered some pork rice dish and the ladies for some reason in a restaurant in Chinatown, decided to order pizza of all things. How was it girls? My dish was so-so, the girls complained that there pizza was too salty and not good at all, big suprise... After yet another amazing Cuban meal we headed back to the bar we were at the night before, hoping to wash the bad taste out of our mouth. On the way inside I decided I wanted to go find a Cigar at a store I thought I had seen the day prior. The shop was closed so I asked a gentleman working at an "upscale" restaurant about where to find one. He whistled and made a waving gesture and guy came out of the shadows, he told me to follow him and the other guy said it was okay. So I followed this guy through some back streets and up some stairs into an apartment, there was another guy up there who pulled out a five gallon bucket full of boxes of different nice cigars. I explained that I just wanted one cigar and they acted like it was a full box or nothing so I said thanks, but no thanks, and walked out. Sure enough I was chased down the stairs by the guy saying that I could buy one for 5 CUC, I said four, he said okay, and off I went with a fancy Cohiba in my hand. I arrived to the bar to find the girls sitting with their mojitos, enjoying some live music. I ordered myself a drink and after awhile decided it was time to try out my recently acquired tobacco. I lacked the proper tools, but looking around I saw a middle aged guy enjoying a cigar of his and approached him. He had an obviously American accent, so I bagan to talk to him and found out he was from outside of Denver, Colorado. He helped me get my cigar cut and lit and I invited him to join our table if he'd like. His name was Robb if my memory serves me correctly. We all chatted for awhile and he told us about all the places we need to go and how to eat cheap, more on that later. He took off after a couple hours, but not before giving me another cigar to enjoy whenever, nice guy. After another round the ladies and I decided it was time for us to leave as well and asked for the check. The total was 39 CUC and mind you I stayed within my 10 CUC budget for the evening. The girls apparently didn't realize that their mojitos were 3 CUC apiece and obviously had several, but apparently didn't have the money to cover all of it and I had no more then I mentioned myself. Instead of explaining the situation to the waiter and running back to the house to retrieve more cash, Maya decided that it would be a good idea to leave the 29 CUC we had a dash. Before I had time to interject the girls were already out the door, I rose from the table not sure what to do as the waiter came over and grabbed the money. He told me to hold on a minute as the check itself had disappeared, I asked if everything was okay and he said no and sent the doorguy after the girls. I explained to everyone that I did not have the check and emptied my pockets to prove this. Maya and Leo came back in escorted by the large, bald, black, doorguy. Leo's purse was emptied to see if she had the check which she didn't and Maya played innocent Swiss girl, not having any pockets, or a purse. I had though faintly remembered her doing something with it though and whispered that she'd better find it now. She began searching around saying maybe it fell somewhere, Leo sat frustrated with the situation, and I headed to the bathroom having had enough of the entire charade that I had nothing to do with. As I was washing up, the bathroom attendent, whom I befriended earlier, came in and told me that the check had been found. "Of course it did," I replied and we both shook our heads and laughed. So I told the girls to take off and grab the cash and return while I waited there as ransom. The crew seemed happy enough with this arrangement, but joked that if they didn't come back then the big chef would have his way with me (I hope it was a joke.) During the long wait I talked with some older Canadians who were pretty amused with the situation and honestly, I was pretty amused with it at this point as well. The girls returned and the first thing Maya did was come up to me and say I blame you, as if it was me who masterminded this scheme and denied any involvement. After it was all sorted out I was actually joking and chatting with the workers about the situation and everything else, everyone seems pretty thrilled with the idea of having a gringo in Cuba. We left on friendly terms with the guys and although were invited back, decided we probably should avoid the place for the rest of the trip. On the walk home I managed to get a confession out of Maya; she had in fact taken the check and threw it over the fence. Leo and I were fairly steamed about this, not so much because of what had happened, but because she tried to blame the two of us for everything. After the fact of the matter we all went to bed and woke up the next day in better moods.
We set off Wednesday morning in search of all the wonderful places Robb had told us about. They were all in Havana Vieja (Old Havana,) which was a bit of a walk away so first we decided to get the cheap eating figured out first. So here is the deal, there are two currencies, the Cuban Convertible (CUC) and the Cuban Peso (CUP.) 1 CUC= 24 CUP. You go to a bank of sorts and you can trade x amount of CUC for the respective amount of CUP and in turn you can go to peso street vendors where all the Cubanos eat and buy food for dirt cheap. For instance, we bought decent size ham sandwiches for 10 CUP, the equivolent of 50 cents US, that's cheap and cheerful as Leonora would say. Not saying the sandwiches or any of the other peso food was good, but you soon learn in Cuba that you eat in order to fill your stomach, not to actually enjoy the food itself. After our cheap meal we headed though Havana Viejo, which contained some awe inspiring buildings and plazas that seemed more reminiscent of a European town. We ended up at Plaza de Catedral(?) which, as the name suggests, is home to an enormous cathedral. I stepped inside and stood dumbfounded by the magnitude of it all, I unfortunately didn't do any research on it and am to lazy at the time of this writing to do so, but it's real, real, old... The entire Old Havana area is immaculately maintained, it is where all the tourism is after all, and is the polar opposite of the area we were staying in, full of buildings in disarray and filthy, foul smelling, streets. After we had our fill of culture we decided to start heading back, during the walked I spotted a place called Cafe O'Reillys that I had to check out. It was merely an Irish pub in esthetics but it was enough to send me thinking about one of my watering holes back home, Moon and Sixpence. We finally got back to the Central Park area and hailed a cab to take us to a more contemporary area west of there to change our flight plans. I mentioned earliar that we were going to stay for 12 days, but Cuba proved to be much more expensive then anticipated and Maya and I wanted to take off on Friday, which is when Leo's flight was. We arrived at the airlines sattelite office and were sent to another place as our tickets had been booked through a travel agency. We arrived at this place to be sent to another place, and another, and after walking around for awhile we ended back at the original correct place to find it closed. We were all very frustrated and tired from all the walking we had done that day and I decided the best remedy was to get some icecream from this place I had read about in Lonely Planet that was only a few blocks from where we were at. The place is called Coppelia's and is described in the book as a cultural phenomenon that had to be experienced firsthand. We arrived to a park like area with pathways on each of the four sides leading to a central area with tents and some large blue structure. Not really knowing exactly how it worked we stood in the line at the path closest to us, we were the only tourists in line and in fact in the whole area which is the kind of place I prefer travelling to. After what seemed like twenty to thirty minutes we were in front of this thirty person and were being ushered down the pathway and, still not knowing what was going on, just follow the people in front of us. We were seated under a red and white striped canopy and a waitress came to take our order. I said give us what the table next to us was having and shortly there after we each were given two bowls containing five scoops of coconut flavored icecream apiece; that is thirty scoops of icecream sitting at our table in the heat of the day, so we had to work fast. I had no problems and wolfed down my ten scoops with childlike delight. The bill was only 30 CUP, thats $1.20 American. We left severely bloated, yet satisfied.
Tune in next time to see the conclusion of Tales of a Vagabond or Cuban Missle Crisis...
Until next time....
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Storm Chasing (Manuel Antonio)
So I mentioned something about surfing last time, when in fact there was no surfing only falling. Its much harder then it looks, I got up once and proceeded to fall over... Oh well, next time.
Yesterday a couple gringos came in, Andy and Dan, a couple ER doctors from Philly, yes they do enjoy the show Its Always Sunny in Philidelphia. They were nice guys, we sat around drinking whiskey for awhile and all headed down to the ocean for a night swim. The rain was pretty intense, but it was warm so we didnt care, there was lightning and thunder to the point of blinding and deafening us and it was amazing. We got back and some of the girls started attacking us with towels. A bigger polish girl got Dan in a headlock as he screamed I am doctor you cant do this to me. It was a riot... I guess you had to be there. They had to take off today, but we might see them Saturday in San Jose for Halloween.
Yesterday in the late afternoon I stumbled upon a trail near our hostel and ran back to my room to gear up. With about an hour of sun left I headed in not knowing what I would find. It was a fairly touristy trail, with a guide rope and cinder block stairs at some points, which was actually a good thing as the hill was very steep and the terrain very slippery. I walked up and up and up for what seemed a very long time, the humidity makes hiking quite the challenge. At one point during my climb I heard a loud sound from some animal that made me question if I should actually be in the jungle by myself, but after hearing it repeated in response to the first sound around me in various pitches and patterns that it was just some monkeys claiming their territory. I finally got to the top and found a bench overlooking rolling jungle and sat and ¨meditated¨for awhile. I am really happy to have had that chance to clear my head, I realized that it has been awhile since I have been completely alone which is not commonplace for me. Back home I spend a fair amount of time with solely my thoughts for company and I love it. Dont get me wrong these new friends of mine are great, but some time a man has to be alone. So anyways I think I will go pack a lunch in an hour and go hike back up to my viewpoint.
I think tomorrow is it for Manuel Antonio, sadly. I might be headed up north to Jaco for some sort of halloween shindig, who knows... I am finding out more and more that Costa Rica is a Twilight Zone of sorts, time ceases to exist and nothing is quite what it seems or what you would expect. Until next time...
Yesterday a couple gringos came in, Andy and Dan, a couple ER doctors from Philly, yes they do enjoy the show Its Always Sunny in Philidelphia. They were nice guys, we sat around drinking whiskey for awhile and all headed down to the ocean for a night swim. The rain was pretty intense, but it was warm so we didnt care, there was lightning and thunder to the point of blinding and deafening us and it was amazing. We got back and some of the girls started attacking us with towels. A bigger polish girl got Dan in a headlock as he screamed I am doctor you cant do this to me. It was a riot... I guess you had to be there. They had to take off today, but we might see them Saturday in San Jose for Halloween.
Yesterday in the late afternoon I stumbled upon a trail near our hostel and ran back to my room to gear up. With about an hour of sun left I headed in not knowing what I would find. It was a fairly touristy trail, with a guide rope and cinder block stairs at some points, which was actually a good thing as the hill was very steep and the terrain very slippery. I walked up and up and up for what seemed a very long time, the humidity makes hiking quite the challenge. At one point during my climb I heard a loud sound from some animal that made me question if I should actually be in the jungle by myself, but after hearing it repeated in response to the first sound around me in various pitches and patterns that it was just some monkeys claiming their territory. I finally got to the top and found a bench overlooking rolling jungle and sat and ¨meditated¨for awhile. I am really happy to have had that chance to clear my head, I realized that it has been awhile since I have been completely alone which is not commonplace for me. Back home I spend a fair amount of time with solely my thoughts for company and I love it. Dont get me wrong these new friends of mine are great, but some time a man has to be alone. So anyways I think I will go pack a lunch in an hour and go hike back up to my viewpoint.
I think tomorrow is it for Manuel Antonio, sadly. I might be headed up north to Jaco for some sort of halloween shindig, who knows... I am finding out more and more that Costa Rica is a Twilight Zone of sorts, time ceases to exist and nothing is quite what it seems or what you would expect. Until next time...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Another Day in Paradise (Manuel Antonio)
An underwater camera is great until you lose it underwater....
I arrived in Manuel Antonio on Saturday with intentions of being here only until Sunday, it is now Tuesday (I think) and I plan on being here until Friday (or Saturday.) This place is a slice of heaven if I may be cliche for a moment, there are geckos running around my room, iguanas above the showers, and monkeys in the trees in our courtyard. The people who own Hostel Costa Linda, are two crazy Germans who know how to have fun. If I wasn't off to Cuba next week who knows how long I would remain here. Anyhow off to my adventures thus far..
Soooo, Saturday was spent at the beach, after we got off the bus at 9:45 and checked in to our hostel. After dinner we all went into Quepos, a small town North of here, and went to this huge salsa and meringue discotec, it was a lot of fun and I would of posted some priceless photos if I still had my camera, more on that in a bit. Sunday morning we all got a late start and hit the beach again after a nice greasy lunch and burned up for a bit before half of are crew had to head back to San Jose (suckers!) The remaining few stayed on the beach and had some pina coladas in their honor. Sunday night after sitting around the hostel with some other tourists a few of us decided to go to the beach for some moonlight swimming, I decided to bring my camera and in a stupid mistake lost it in a wave because I didnt have it around my wrist, I ran back to the hostel to grab my headlamp for a rescue mission, in the process breaking my sandals and busting my foot, great night, I didn't retrieve my camera obviously and needless to say I was a little bummed about it yesterday. It didnt help that I had the beginnings of a cold that fully blossomed this morning. I was woken up by the girls because we were supposed to be heading to the national park this morning for a hike, I told them it wasnt happening for me because my head felt like a cement block and I was exhausted so Marina brought me some water and some cold medicine and I proceeded to sleep the day away in a miserable sweat. I woke up an hour or so ago feeling a bit disoriented but less congested and dizzy than this morning, thank god!
My time is running short on this prepay internet crap so I must be going folks. I will tell you about my surfing experience sooner then later. It's a lot harder than it looks. Until next time...
I arrived in Manuel Antonio on Saturday with intentions of being here only until Sunday, it is now Tuesday (I think) and I plan on being here until Friday (or Saturday.) This place is a slice of heaven if I may be cliche for a moment, there are geckos running around my room, iguanas above the showers, and monkeys in the trees in our courtyard. The people who own Hostel Costa Linda, are two crazy Germans who know how to have fun. If I wasn't off to Cuba next week who knows how long I would remain here. Anyhow off to my adventures thus far..
Soooo, Saturday was spent at the beach, after we got off the bus at 9:45 and checked in to our hostel. After dinner we all went into Quepos, a small town North of here, and went to this huge salsa and meringue discotec, it was a lot of fun and I would of posted some priceless photos if I still had my camera, more on that in a bit. Sunday morning we all got a late start and hit the beach again after a nice greasy lunch and burned up for a bit before half of are crew had to head back to San Jose (suckers!) The remaining few stayed on the beach and had some pina coladas in their honor. Sunday night after sitting around the hostel with some other tourists a few of us decided to go to the beach for some moonlight swimming, I decided to bring my camera and in a stupid mistake lost it in a wave because I didnt have it around my wrist, I ran back to the hostel to grab my headlamp for a rescue mission, in the process breaking my sandals and busting my foot, great night, I didn't retrieve my camera obviously and needless to say I was a little bummed about it yesterday. It didnt help that I had the beginnings of a cold that fully blossomed this morning. I was woken up by the girls because we were supposed to be heading to the national park this morning for a hike, I told them it wasnt happening for me because my head felt like a cement block and I was exhausted so Marina brought me some water and some cold medicine and I proceeded to sleep the day away in a miserable sweat. I woke up an hour or so ago feeling a bit disoriented but less congested and dizzy than this morning, thank god!
My time is running short on this prepay internet crap so I must be going folks. I will tell you about my surfing experience sooner then later. It's a lot harder than it looks. Until next time...
Friday, October 23, 2009
Shhhhh! Don´t Tell America...
So once again my plans have changed, I am now done with school. I cant take it, I need to travel. So tomorrow I am off to spend the weekend in Manuel Antonio National Park on the Pacific side, sunsets galore. I plan on hiking through the jungle and exiting on to a secluded beach somewhere to work on this pastey complexion and at night I will head to a town up north from there and entertain myself at some salsa bars. Rough life, aye? On Tuesday I head up north to Nicaragua for the rest of the week with my friend Leonora to hang out on the beach in San Juan Del Sur for a day or two and then over to the center of Lake Nicaragua to an island called Isla Ometepe, which houses two symetrical volcanoes threatening to erupt at any time or so they say. The next trip is top secret on the 2nd of November.... Well I will tell you, just don´t inform the US government... I am headed to Cuba for two weeks of adventure and old Caddillacs. No seriously, this place looks as if it has been frozen in time, 1950 Caddillacs roam the streets of Havana. Keep posted for pics in my facebook, they will be outlandish I promise.
As of my last post there has been no real excitement, I went and saw Inglorious Bastards (Bastardos sin Gloria) and had the luxury of trying to interpret the German and French dialogue through Spanish subtitles which I was relatively successful with. The movie was great and it only cost four bucks. Love this country. Well folks dont have much to add, I definately will be having some adventures in the weeks to come so stay posted. Hope all is well. Until next time...
As of my last post there has been no real excitement, I went and saw Inglorious Bastards (Bastardos sin Gloria) and had the luxury of trying to interpret the German and French dialogue through Spanish subtitles which I was relatively successful with. The movie was great and it only cost four bucks. Love this country. Well folks dont have much to add, I definately will be having some adventures in the weeks to come so stay posted. Hope all is well. Until next time...
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Dreams of Meteorites
Where to begin? This last weekend was absolutely amazing, we went to Puerto Viejo as I said and partied like frat boys... Not really, but we had a lot of fun. After a four hour bus ride we arrived and it was very hot and humid there. The town itself is a very sleepy one, reggae music drifting from a lot of the bars and houses and the vibe mirrored the music. We rushed to our hotels and were all pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful courtyard surrounded by our rooms. We left to find food, cervesa, and dancing which is all very abundant there. We had pizza, of all things, and listened to live reggae which was both very good. After that we went to a bar directly on the beach called Jhonnys Place or something something similar and danced in the ocean more a less, a very surreal experience for all of us. We finished the night with some locals sitting and chatting. I am impressed with how much easier it is to speak and understand Spanish after a few imperials.
The next day we had breakfast at this amazing little spot called Bread and Chocolate, a very American breakfast but good none the less. (Oh, this may be a good time to point out that this town is overrun with tourist, not an ideal situation for me but it was kind of nice to run into some other gringos.) After breakfast it was off to the beach for some swimming and sun worshipping, we rented some bikes for like three dollars and rode a ways to the south. The sun was brutal and we were sweating our asses off but the grins on our faces spoke louder then words. We hung out on the beach for quite a few hours and none of us got to burned and then we all ran back home to shower and get ready for another night of dancing. See the theme here, Pura Vida. Johnnys was packed and they were playing top 40 mainstream stuff but I didn't care, the energy, the people, my friends, I couldn't ask for anything more. Why would anyone? That night was a long night to say the least, but the details are only available in hear say and photos.
The last day, or more appropriately the last morning, was bitter sweet. None of us wanted to go back to the city and so we laid on the beach until shortly before we needed to catch the bus and drank Pipas(?), which is coconut water out of yellow coconuts, delicious stuff really. We boarded the bus all very exhausted and I for one slept the entire way home.
Yesterday I was still very tired from the weekend and after school I came home and slept, woke up ate dinner, watched a bit of TV, slept through the night. During the night I had many a crazy dream, the only one I remember well at this point involved a bunch of my friends from Portland and I sitting on a hill watching a huge meteorite fall from the sky and land in the distance with a tremendous flash. Don't know what it meant but it was very beautiful and emotional for some reason. Until next time....
The next day we had breakfast at this amazing little spot called Bread and Chocolate, a very American breakfast but good none the less. (Oh, this may be a good time to point out that this town is overrun with tourist, not an ideal situation for me but it was kind of nice to run into some other gringos.) After breakfast it was off to the beach for some swimming and sun worshipping, we rented some bikes for like three dollars and rode a ways to the south. The sun was brutal and we were sweating our asses off but the grins on our faces spoke louder then words. We hung out on the beach for quite a few hours and none of us got to burned and then we all ran back home to shower and get ready for another night of dancing. See the theme here, Pura Vida. Johnnys was packed and they were playing top 40 mainstream stuff but I didn't care, the energy, the people, my friends, I couldn't ask for anything more. Why would anyone? That night was a long night to say the least, but the details are only available in hear say and photos.
The last day, or more appropriately the last morning, was bitter sweet. None of us wanted to go back to the city and so we laid on the beach until shortly before we needed to catch the bus and drank Pipas(?), which is coconut water out of yellow coconuts, delicious stuff really. We boarded the bus all very exhausted and I for one slept the entire way home.
Yesterday I was still very tired from the weekend and after school I came home and slept, woke up ate dinner, watched a bit of TV, slept through the night. During the night I had many a crazy dream, the only one I remember well at this point involved a bunch of my friends from Portland and I sitting on a hill watching a huge meteorite fall from the sky and land in the distance with a tremendous flash. Don't know what it meant but it was very beautiful and emotional for some reason. Until next time....
Thursday, October 15, 2009
America...F%#& Yeah!
Last night was amazing! Went to my new watering hole, Caccios, and watched the USA vs Costa Rica futbol game. I was rooting for Costa Rica, believe it or not, because last nights game determined whether or not they would make it into the World Cup. The bar was crazy packed and Bram and I were the only two foreigners and we were sticking out like sore thumbs, which seems to work out in our advantage for many reasons. I had a journalist come and talk to me and I had my picture taken while holding a Costa Rican jersey. I am hoping that tomorrow I can find the article, it would be great to have that as a souvenir. Unfortunately Costa Rica lost, but it didn't put a damper on the festivities. We made some new friends, as we always do at Caccios, and shared drinks and stories until the wee hours of the night. Not such a good time this morning when I had to be up at 7 o clock.
I made the decision to cancel the sea turtle project and instead opted for two additional weeks of Spanish school. I like it a there lot and would like to learn as much Spanish as possible, if I had more money I would stay for a long time. After those two weeks I will travel around with Maya I think, but this trip has already been random and unexpected so who knows whatll happen.
This weekend several other students and I are headed to Puerto Viejo, a sleepy little town on the beach in the south Caribbean. I cant wait for the hot sun and cool breezes. We are arriving in the middle of Carnival, so that should be quite the spectacle... and who knows maybe I will find myself a nice Tica and never return to the states.
Short blog today as I am very tired and ready for a siesta. Until next time.......
I made the decision to cancel the sea turtle project and instead opted for two additional weeks of Spanish school. I like it a there lot and would like to learn as much Spanish as possible, if I had more money I would stay for a long time. After those two weeks I will travel around with Maya I think, but this trip has already been random and unexpected so who knows whatll happen.
This weekend several other students and I are headed to Puerto Viejo, a sleepy little town on the beach in the south Caribbean. I cant wait for the hot sun and cool breezes. We are arriving in the middle of Carnival, so that should be quite the spectacle... and who knows maybe I will find myself a nice Tica and never return to the states.
Short blog today as I am very tired and ready for a siesta. Until next time.......
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Where to Begin...
It has been a few days since my last post, I have been keeping very busy. Lets see... Wednesday night I went out with Maya, her host brother Jonathan, and a friend of his, Raquel. We went to a place called Lubnan, which has amazing Lebanese food, during which I got involved an argument with Raquel, which I have had with four Ticos since, about the number of continents. Let me explain, we have all learned that there are seven continents; North America, South America, Asia, Europe, Africa, Austrailia, and Antartica, right? Don't tell Ticos that! They believe that there is only one America, they ask what continent is Central America apart of? It is a matter of great pride for them and after arguing some valid points for a while I give up and say we will agree to disagree and move on. After the restaurant we went to a bar connected to the restaurant and we had some drinks while listening to a dj play some electronic music which I found rather unpalatable, everyone else thought it was amazing. To each their own.
The next day was a little slow starting for me and after class I went and grabbed a beer with my classmates. The place very cheap, a bit over a dollar a beer, but the environment was lacking a lot. For instance the bathrooms were rather frightening, a small room with a dirty trough to do your business, my classmates said they saw several cockroaches in there as well. Despite that though it was a fun time, and we decided we should all go out that night and have some more fun, which I agreed to obviously. We all parted ways and I came home to take a nap and eat dinner here before our adventures. I called everyone to see if we were still on and Bram, the Dutchman, was the only one still down for the cause. "Guys night out could be interesting," we thought. We decided to go to San Pedro, a district right outside San Jose, to an area named La Calle de Amargura (the street of bitterness) We started out in a bar called Caccios whose slogan is "for a world without reggaton." They serve Imperial in a huge stein for just over two dollars. We sat there for awhile and enjoyed the scenery before being approached by a Tica who spoke amazing English. She is in medical school and off to an internship at Harvard next year. She was very nice and told us some tips on the area and what to do. She had to leave but gave us her phone number and said to call her sometime if we want to be shown around, could be fun. Not more then two minutes after she left the couple behind us started a conversation with us, the guy had been to Germany and was talking to Bram about it and the female had been to the states a few times and we were discussing that. She is a foreign relations major and so we had a lot to discuss obviously. At what point Bram and I were simultaneously arguing the fact of seven continents, it was rather funny in retrospect. That bar closed, so we went across the street to a place where they had some friends it turned out, so we all talked and laughed until the end of the night. The couple gave us their information and said to call them soon for another night of entertainment. We hailed a cab went on our ways.
Friday morning was rather rough and I looked forward to staying in that night, but Bram informed me that I promised we would go out again so I reluctantly agreed. Once again both girls bailed out, but we didn't care as the night before was one of the funnest nights ever. Again we went to the street of bitterness and had some drinks, but the atmosphere wasn't the same so we headed off to another place across San Jose, which Bram had been to the week prior. The name of this place is El Pueblo, its insane! Its essentially a huge mall full of different types a bars and late night eateries, and a lot of people. We went around checking out the different areas, getting a lot of attention from girls as there were no other tourists that I noticed, especially none that were 6'2 and 6'4. We went to some large discoteca, danced and admired the scenery for awhile, before we decided to leave because it was getting late, we both had early buses the next morning. Walking towards the exit we were intercepted by a couple cute girls who wanted us to come get food with them we agreed wholeheartedly. They took us to Taco Bell of all places and we chatted for awhile and then they told us that they had boyfriends they had to go see and gave us there contacts before taking off. Scandalous Ticas! We stumbled into a cab and went home.
Upon this writing I am very sore, yesterday morning after two hours of sleep I woke up and ran into San Jose to catch a van with Maya. We were late and the van was gone, but fortunately a gentleman offered to call them and after a bit he rushed us into his cab where we flew down the busy streets meeting the bus just moments before it jumped on the expressway. It was pretty epic. The tour guide jokingly gave us trouble about it before explaining to us the ins and outs of whitewater rafting. That's right, yesterday I risked life and limb on the Rio Pecuare, in Turriapal, about two ours outside the city. The place was absolutely beautiful, an insanely large river running straight through the jungle. The boat I was on was all American except for Maya and another gentleman who was a Tico. It was my first time whitewater rafting and will definitely not be my last. The rapids were insane, we were thrown left and right but never flipped (we did watch a boat of Americans behind us flip, no one was hurt so it was very funny.) We had a break for lunch in the middle of the jungle next to the river, I can't wait for my jungle treks I plan to do in the future. I saw all sorts of butterflies, an iguana, a couple small lizards (one of which was in our boat somehow and spent some time lounging on my leg), and a huge wolf spider. I love this place. After three hours, countless rapids and some much needed time spent swimming in the cool water it was over. We got a couple group photos, exchanged email, and parted ways.
The van ride was spent in and out of slumber for most of the group, myself included. I got home exhausted and a bit beat up. I was invited out by Christian, which I quickly declined. I need rest badly, so I passed out shortly after dinner and slept through the night easily. Today my body is stiff and sore, but the memories of yesterday are worth every shooting pain in my back and legs.
Until next time, for I am off to enjoy homemade sushi down the street...
The next day was a little slow starting for me and after class I went and grabbed a beer with my classmates. The place very cheap, a bit over a dollar a beer, but the environment was lacking a lot. For instance the bathrooms were rather frightening, a small room with a dirty trough to do your business, my classmates said they saw several cockroaches in there as well. Despite that though it was a fun time, and we decided we should all go out that night and have some more fun, which I agreed to obviously. We all parted ways and I came home to take a nap and eat dinner here before our adventures. I called everyone to see if we were still on and Bram, the Dutchman, was the only one still down for the cause. "Guys night out could be interesting," we thought. We decided to go to San Pedro, a district right outside San Jose, to an area named La Calle de Amargura (the street of bitterness) We started out in a bar called Caccios whose slogan is "for a world without reggaton." They serve Imperial in a huge stein for just over two dollars. We sat there for awhile and enjoyed the scenery before being approached by a Tica who spoke amazing English. She is in medical school and off to an internship at Harvard next year. She was very nice and told us some tips on the area and what to do. She had to leave but gave us her phone number and said to call her sometime if we want to be shown around, could be fun. Not more then two minutes after she left the couple behind us started a conversation with us, the guy had been to Germany and was talking to Bram about it and the female had been to the states a few times and we were discussing that. She is a foreign relations major and so we had a lot to discuss obviously. At what point Bram and I were simultaneously arguing the fact of seven continents, it was rather funny in retrospect. That bar closed, so we went across the street to a place where they had some friends it turned out, so we all talked and laughed until the end of the night. The couple gave us their information and said to call them soon for another night of entertainment. We hailed a cab went on our ways.
Friday morning was rather rough and I looked forward to staying in that night, but Bram informed me that I promised we would go out again so I reluctantly agreed. Once again both girls bailed out, but we didn't care as the night before was one of the funnest nights ever. Again we went to the street of bitterness and had some drinks, but the atmosphere wasn't the same so we headed off to another place across San Jose, which Bram had been to the week prior. The name of this place is El Pueblo, its insane! Its essentially a huge mall full of different types a bars and late night eateries, and a lot of people. We went around checking out the different areas, getting a lot of attention from girls as there were no other tourists that I noticed, especially none that were 6'2 and 6'4. We went to some large discoteca, danced and admired the scenery for awhile, before we decided to leave because it was getting late, we both had early buses the next morning. Walking towards the exit we were intercepted by a couple cute girls who wanted us to come get food with them we agreed wholeheartedly. They took us to Taco Bell of all places and we chatted for awhile and then they told us that they had boyfriends they had to go see and gave us there contacts before taking off. Scandalous Ticas! We stumbled into a cab and went home.
Upon this writing I am very sore, yesterday morning after two hours of sleep I woke up and ran into San Jose to catch a van with Maya. We were late and the van was gone, but fortunately a gentleman offered to call them and after a bit he rushed us into his cab where we flew down the busy streets meeting the bus just moments before it jumped on the expressway. It was pretty epic. The tour guide jokingly gave us trouble about it before explaining to us the ins and outs of whitewater rafting. That's right, yesterday I risked life and limb on the Rio Pecuare, in Turriapal, about two ours outside the city. The place was absolutely beautiful, an insanely large river running straight through the jungle. The boat I was on was all American except for Maya and another gentleman who was a Tico. It was my first time whitewater rafting and will definitely not be my last. The rapids were insane, we were thrown left and right but never flipped (we did watch a boat of Americans behind us flip, no one was hurt so it was very funny.) We had a break for lunch in the middle of the jungle next to the river, I can't wait for my jungle treks I plan to do in the future. I saw all sorts of butterflies, an iguana, a couple small lizards (one of which was in our boat somehow and spent some time lounging on my leg), and a huge wolf spider. I love this place. After three hours, countless rapids and some much needed time spent swimming in the cool water it was over. We got a couple group photos, exchanged email, and parted ways.
The van ride was spent in and out of slumber for most of the group, myself included. I got home exhausted and a bit beat up. I was invited out by Christian, which I quickly declined. I need rest badly, so I passed out shortly after dinner and slept through the night easily. Today my body is stiff and sore, but the memories of yesterday are worth every shooting pain in my back and legs.
Until next time, for I am off to enjoy homemade sushi down the street...
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Apartheid and a Drummer Boy
Today was the first day Maya and I navigated the bus system and San Jose entirely on our own, rather succesfully I might add. Well, despite the homeless man pissing on the sidewalk with his member in full view of anyone and everyone.... yeah, about that. Thanks for the show you dirty vagabond. We got to school and had our first conversation class before our standard classes, it was great, in fact I wish I was taking a few more weeks, maybe next year I will come for two months and become an expert.
I am beginning to form friendships with my other classmates, which seems quick to happen when you share the common trait of being foreigners in a strange place. Leonora, the girl from South Africa, and I have had a few good discussions about the politics of our countries, which is very depressing for me. I refuse to defend it, I am proud of my city, but not my country... Though listening to the gut wrenching stories from Leo make the problems in the US seem like Jerry Springer episodes. I will spare the details, doesnt need to be repeated. I knew a bit about Apartheid and events surrounding it but hearing first hand accounts is a completely different experience, very depressing. I look forward to hanging out with her tomorrow for some cervesas and conversation.
After school Maya and I went to the Museo de Oro Procolumbio (Museum of Pre Columbian Gold) It was beautiful. Along with the obvious there were exhibits on the history of Costa Rican currency, the history of stamps and letters in Costa Rica, and artifacts and history on the Pre Columbian natives. An older gentleman struck up a conversation with us and told us the following story, which I took the liberty of researching the facts for; Costa Rica declared independence as a soverign state from Spain in 1838, after which their only threat was in 1856 from an American adventurer, William Walker. He invaded from Nicaragua, which he had conquered the year prior, with a mercenary army. He had visions of turning Central America into slave states, fortunately the president, Juan Rafeal Mora, raised a volunteer army and ran them back into Nicaragua where they were met by various other armies from around Central America. It is said that William Walkers army sought refuge in a wooden fort near the border, where a poor drummer boy named Juan Santamaria volunteered to torch down the structure. He ran towards the building, torch in hand, and was shot multiple times and killed, but not before tossing the torch and succesfully burning down the fort. There is no way to know if all these events are true, but he is a national hero and every April 11th he is honored with a holiday. I found this to be a great story, but it was kind of embarrasing as well. Of course it was an arrogant American who tried to invade this lovely country. No wonder why the world looks so sourly upon us.
I am beginning to form friendships with my other classmates, which seems quick to happen when you share the common trait of being foreigners in a strange place. Leonora, the girl from South Africa, and I have had a few good discussions about the politics of our countries, which is very depressing for me. I refuse to defend it, I am proud of my city, but not my country... Though listening to the gut wrenching stories from Leo make the problems in the US seem like Jerry Springer episodes. I will spare the details, doesnt need to be repeated. I knew a bit about Apartheid and events surrounding it but hearing first hand accounts is a completely different experience, very depressing. I look forward to hanging out with her tomorrow for some cervesas and conversation.
After school Maya and I went to the Museo de Oro Procolumbio (Museum of Pre Columbian Gold) It was beautiful. Along with the obvious there were exhibits on the history of Costa Rican currency, the history of stamps and letters in Costa Rica, and artifacts and history on the Pre Columbian natives. An older gentleman struck up a conversation with us and told us the following story, which I took the liberty of researching the facts for; Costa Rica declared independence as a soverign state from Spain in 1838, after which their only threat was in 1856 from an American adventurer, William Walker. He invaded from Nicaragua, which he had conquered the year prior, with a mercenary army. He had visions of turning Central America into slave states, fortunately the president, Juan Rafeal Mora, raised a volunteer army and ran them back into Nicaragua where they were met by various other armies from around Central America. It is said that William Walkers army sought refuge in a wooden fort near the border, where a poor drummer boy named Juan Santamaria volunteered to torch down the structure. He ran towards the building, torch in hand, and was shot multiple times and killed, but not before tossing the torch and succesfully burning down the fort. There is no way to know if all these events are true, but he is a national hero and every April 11th he is honored with a holiday. I found this to be a great story, but it was kind of embarrasing as well. Of course it was an arrogant American who tried to invade this lovely country. No wonder why the world looks so sourly upon us.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Rain Storms and Floods of People
So I now have a friend in this foreign land, Maya, she is the other student I mentioned in my last post. She is a sweet girl, also 24, from Switzerland. Her english is not bad at all and we were able to hold a decent conversation with only a few words needing to be pantomimed. I am very glad to have her for some interaction before and after school, she is not in my class because her level of spanish is a bit lower than mine.
San Jose is quite the spectacle, a dirty bustling city, that leaves much to be desired, but a very interesting place nonetheless. The bus ride into town was a whiplash inducing rollercoaster, I thought we were sure to hit a pedestrian, car, or other bus in the process. The constant riding of the horn is a nuisance to me, but a very common practice apparently. Every two seconds was a terrible meltingpot of horns from all directions, another thing to add to my list of Get Used to it. To top it off the motorcycles as I mentioned awhile ago are insane, weaving in and out of traffic like its the movie Fast and Furious. I will have to look into the number of motorcycle related fatalities in this city, I imagine its rather high.
Obviously I survived and made it to school and I really enjoyed my class which consisted of the teacher, Tatiana, a guy my age from Holland, Bran, a beautiful woman from South Africa, Leonora, and me. The class was fun, fast, and informative, I see myself learning alot in the next two weeks. After school Maya and I had a couple hours to explore the city before Liz came and showed us the bus route back home. We walked around Avenida Central in search of food and cervesa. It had begun to rain slightly and so I bought an Umbrella for less then $2 from one of the many, many people selling items on the street. We found a cafe shortly thereafter, just in time I might add, because right then the rain began to come down like a waterfall along with earthshattering thunder and blinding lightning which was quite the show from the balcony at which we sat. I had a delicious steak sandwich and she had some tasty looking pasta dish with redsauce and shredded beef. During the walk back I noticed the sychronized umbrella dance we were forced to become a part of, opening and closing, raising and lowering, to the left to the right, all to avoid colliding with the masses. I want to quickly point out that all the ticos I have talked to have found it very strange that we dont use umbrellas in Portland. We stayed dry until I managed to divert all the water from a torrential spill off from one of the roofs onto Maya, effectively soaking her from head to toe. She found this less amusing then I did and maybe was a bit unamused by my boisterous laughter, American humour I suppose, poor girl.
Well I believe that that rant was the longest thus far, I commend all who have stuck with it. I am now off to do homework and listen to the sound of the heavy rains abuse the tin roof outside of my bedroom window. Until next time...
San Jose is quite the spectacle, a dirty bustling city, that leaves much to be desired, but a very interesting place nonetheless. The bus ride into town was a whiplash inducing rollercoaster, I thought we were sure to hit a pedestrian, car, or other bus in the process. The constant riding of the horn is a nuisance to me, but a very common practice apparently. Every two seconds was a terrible meltingpot of horns from all directions, another thing to add to my list of Get Used to it. To top it off the motorcycles as I mentioned awhile ago are insane, weaving in and out of traffic like its the movie Fast and Furious. I will have to look into the number of motorcycle related fatalities in this city, I imagine its rather high.
Obviously I survived and made it to school and I really enjoyed my class which consisted of the teacher, Tatiana, a guy my age from Holland, Bran, a beautiful woman from South Africa, Leonora, and me. The class was fun, fast, and informative, I see myself learning alot in the next two weeks. After school Maya and I had a couple hours to explore the city before Liz came and showed us the bus route back home. We walked around Avenida Central in search of food and cervesa. It had begun to rain slightly and so I bought an Umbrella for less then $2 from one of the many, many people selling items on the street. We found a cafe shortly thereafter, just in time I might add, because right then the rain began to come down like a waterfall along with earthshattering thunder and blinding lightning which was quite the show from the balcony at which we sat. I had a delicious steak sandwich and she had some tasty looking pasta dish with redsauce and shredded beef. During the walk back I noticed the sychronized umbrella dance we were forced to become a part of, opening and closing, raising and lowering, to the left to the right, all to avoid colliding with the masses. I want to quickly point out that all the ticos I have talked to have found it very strange that we dont use umbrellas in Portland. We stayed dry until I managed to divert all the water from a torrential spill off from one of the roofs onto Maya, effectively soaking her from head to toe. She found this less amusing then I did and maybe was a bit unamused by my boisterous laughter, American humour I suppose, poor girl.
Well I believe that that rant was the longest thus far, I commend all who have stuck with it. I am now off to do homework and listen to the sound of the heavy rains abuse the tin roof outside of my bedroom window. Until next time...
First Day of School -Guadalupe
Ive got my clothes freshly starched and my shoes polished, all ready to go. Not really, but I am pretty damn excited. I hope that there are other english speaking students, Im sure there will be, but I could see myself getting stuck with a bunch of Germans. Marias family is hosting a student starting today as well, hopefully I like her.
Question, Is there such a thing as eating too much fruit? Like the opposite of scuuuuuurvy or something? I will find out I suppose.
Question, Is there such a thing as eating too much fruit? Like the opposite of scuuuuuurvy or something? I will find out I suppose.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Dolor en mi Cabeza -Guadalupe
Woke up to the neighbors playing the song 'Dancing Queen' and a pain in my head, too much Imperial (Costa Ricas signature beer) last night. I partied with Brian (19) and Christian (29) my host brothers if you will. It was Christian's birthday and man did he get drunk, mucho barracho. We went to a bar in an area of town that is, according to Brian, unsafe at night, especially if you are a gringo by yourself. There were big single family homes on the next family up with guard posts in the front of huge barbwired gates, being wealthy in this town has a cost.
Yesterday we went to Maria's, Liz's sister, house for lunch and these ladies can cook. We ate roasted pork with rice and salad with pico de gallo. The portions are insane, I think they may be trying to kill me with food, for instance, the breakfast I just ate was a heaping mound of red beans and rice and scrambled eggs with bologna as big as my face. As if that wasnt enough there was also a huge bowl of fruit on the side. I thought it might be considered rude to not finish it so I did my best, at one point I had to rest as I thought I was going to throw up, which would of been a lot more rude than not finishing the meal; 'Oh yeah, the gringo was great until he threw up all over the table.'
Today I am going to pick up a calling card, I think my mom is probably worrying about me in typical mother fashion and I forgot to call my bank and tell them I was going to be in Costa Rica, dont need my account frozen because they think someone has stolen my card and fled to paradise. I am finding it strange to be the minority, something I will have to get used to in this lovely, lovely country. Until next time...
Yesterday we went to Maria's, Liz's sister, house for lunch and these ladies can cook. We ate roasted pork with rice and salad with pico de gallo. The portions are insane, I think they may be trying to kill me with food, for instance, the breakfast I just ate was a heaping mound of red beans and rice and scrambled eggs with bologna as big as my face. As if that wasnt enough there was also a huge bowl of fruit on the side. I thought it might be considered rude to not finish it so I did my best, at one point I had to rest as I thought I was going to throw up, which would of been a lot more rude than not finishing the meal; 'Oh yeah, the gringo was great until he threw up all over the table.'
Today I am going to pick up a calling card, I think my mom is probably worrying about me in typical mother fashion and I forgot to call my bank and tell them I was going to be in Costa Rica, dont need my account frozen because they think someone has stolen my card and fled to paradise. I am finding it strange to be the minority, something I will have to get used to in this lovely, lovely country. Until next time...
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Buenos Dias Costa Rica -Guadalupe
I awoke to church bells, thoroughly confused about my surroundings. It took a moment before I realized that I was in fact in Costa Rica, although it is a very surreal feeling even as I am writing this. I began my day with a cold shower, because I did not know how to operate the electric water heater thing-a-ma-jig, which Liz and her husband Luis got a kick out of. I was shown the proper sequence for a hot shower after breakfast, which consisted of strawberries, bananas, mango, watermelon, and papaya, along with some bologna on amazing fresh bread and pineapple juice. I offered to clean up after my self at which point Luis and Liz laughed and Luis said something along the lines of, that is her job, pura vida. I could get used to this real fast. I am thrilled with the amount of communication I can already have and I haven't even started school yet. All anxieties about this trip were washed away with that cold shower. I am ready for La Pura Vida.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Costa Rica! -Guadalupe (city outside of San Jose)
Alas! I am in a bed in Costa Rica, rather cozy I might add. It is a hot, sticky place, but thus far I find it absolutly fascinating. Before I continue let me add that I am still running off of an hour of sleep... Upon boarding the plane in Houston I had the pleasure of sitting next to a couple guys about my age, one from Argentina and one from Costa Rica, Richie and Leo, respectively. Talking with them managed to calm any remaining anxieties I had about my trip, the few beers I had aided in this as well I´m sure. So yada, yada, the plane ride was a party more or less and in the end Leo gave me the number to his cousins, where they will be staying. I may meet up with them after my homestay, let the randomness of travelling begin... Getting off of the plane I was hit with a wall of humidity and pouring rain, that along with the hoarde of people trying to coax me into there cab was a bit overwhelming. Thank god I opted to have the host family pick me up from the airport, although that was pretty overwhelming in itself. The women who met me at the airport spoke no english (hence, total immersion program) and when our ride pulled up it was full of people who also spoke no english. I was assaulted by rapid fire Spanish, that along with the new surroundings, and CRAZY traffic was pretty intense, but at least Ive finally arrived to my destination that I have waited for for so long. The drive to the house from the airport was maybe 20 minutes, but it seemed like time stood still as I watched the motorcycles weave in and out of traffic, the swarms of people standing inside and outside the bars, and the plethora of signs in a foreign tongue that I could and couldnt translate. I was taken back to my trip with Torin through the hispanic areas of Los Angeles for a moment before quickly realizing this was in no way like the city of angels. Liz and I were dropped off, bidding a buenos noches and hasta manana to the currently nameless passengers and entered through a tall locked gate surrounded by more metal and cement. Upon entering the house I was rather suprised, due to my impressions of Guadalupe itself, to find a lovely and immaculately cared for living space. I had a limited conversation with Liz in spanish, although I managed to recall a lot more vocabulary then I expected, and went off to my own bedroom, with my own keys, my own bed, thinking I am going to like this here Costa Rica.
Random Thoughts- Houston, Texas (George Bush Airport)
I´ve had only and hour of sleep in the past twenty-four, so I suppose all my thoughts are random at this point... I guess my thoughts are fairly random always. I am sitting at a bar two steps off the walkway drinking a Stella Artois ( which cost 5.50, while Bud costs 6.50, strange) and I didn´t have to provide identification, I´ve also spotted people sitting in the terminals with beers in hand, neither of which would fly in Oregon. Now say what you want about Texas,(believe me, I have said it all) but that is pretty amazing. With that being said, I did notice a store called Fox News Channel, so I don´t expect to be moving here in this lifetime nor any other lifetimes for that matter. Don´t mess with Texas! Over and out...
Random thoughts- Denver, Colorado (Airport)
Denver seems like a lovely city, I suppose I will have to come visit it one day. Although as a news broadcast just reminded me, pitbulls are outlawed here. Ridiculous. Thank you Micheal Vick and everyone like you. Why can´t, they fight poodles or pomeranians, I could do without these sorry excuses for dogs. Just in; I wonder if the french woman over the intercom is as pleasant to the eyes as she is to the ears? Oh yeah, Schlotzkys sucks!
Can't really believe it...
I can't really believe it, but reality is finally sinking in I suppose. For the past week I haven't had time to be excited about this journey I'm about to embark on. The stress has seemingly overwhelmed any other emotion or anxiety in my being, all the running around and last minute scrambling to clean up the apartment and what not... but now I am packed, the apartment's clean, and all I have to do is wait for my ride to the airport, AND I AM FREAKING OUT! The emotions are overwhelming, albeit good emotions, but the feeling of waiting to step into a complete unknown territory is an indescribable one. Hell, I've jumped out of an airplane TWICE this summer, I think I can do this. I'll keep you guys posted, provided I survive the plane ride. Peace, love, and all that other hippy crap.
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