What are we doing in Costa Rica?

This last weekend we got a taste of what the “real” rainy season here is like. Apparently, it rains really hard, and for a long time. We got a little stir crazy. 

On Monday I took the boys to the botanical garden, which was hazardously muddy, but a lot of fun.

Even the tree here have to decorate themselves so as to out-beautify.

Overall I don’t find getting around in Puerto Viejo to be all that intimidating. I’m comfy on my bike, the roads are bumpy but flat, and it’s impossible to get lost unless someone blindfolds you and spins you around. Even then, I think you’d find your way eventually. No one stops at stop signs, but there are so few intersections that it hasn’t been an issue. And for the most part, cars don’t drive insanely fast or close to bikes. (There are exceptions to those last two, and I may or may not have muttered a word or two in Dean’s hearing that I ought not to have.) 

I do have one complaint. Lanes mean almost nothing here. People pass like it’s the national sport, and sometimes, just for kicks, they stay on the other side of the road for a loooong time. On a two-lane dirt road, that means anyone coming in the opposite direction is in for a little suspense as to whether the passer is going to get out of their way in a timely fashion. Usually they do, at least for other motorized vehicles. I have yet to witness any accidents or be plowed down by oncoming traffic (knocks furiously on wood), so I guess these drivers know what they’re doing. 

The disdain for lanes extends itself to bikers and pedestrians as well. Most cyclists stick to the right side of the road, but just enough do not to keep me on my toes. I confess, it can make me a little cranky when I have to dodge a biker riding down his/her left side of the road, or a group of three or four pedestrians taking up a full half of the road oblivious to the traffic behind them. FYI, the wrong-sided bikers tend to be Ticos, but the walkers are usually death-courting tourists. [People of North America, please stop doing this. It really isn't safe -- I guarantee that the not everyone is looking out for you. They are too busy looking for an opportunity to pass other motorists. Thank you.] 

Really this isn’t a big deal. However, I think it’s going to be thrilling to return to the States and have cars staying in their own lanes, stopping at stop signs, and being somewhat orderly. Ah, sweet order! Who knew I was so uptight? Actually, don’t answer that!

We’ve noticed something really random about the diapers we’ve bought here. 

 

See it? How about a closer look?

 

All the diapers have one tab stuck to the inside of the diaper, rather than folded over neatly as we would expect. It’s odd. Of course, it doesn’t bother Dean! But does anyone have any theories about this? It’s a mystery!

Graham spent a long time conversing with this moth the other day. It hung out on the inside of the mosquito net for hours, so I guess the admiration was mutual. 

Shake the toilet paper role before tearing off your squares. 

This message brought to you after a near-miss with a VERY intimidating ant. 

Can I be honest? I’ve spent the past week or so desperately looking forward to going home. Paradise has felt especially un-paradise-like lately.

Nothing has really changed or happened to make me feel this way. It’s just the cumulative effect of a lot of factors that have been in place the whole time. Specifically:

• The bugs. Oh my word, if I could change one thing about this summer, it would be the &$(@#!! bugs. Mosquitos, no see-ums, ants, and the occasional mystery biting bug have been competing for my attention and wrath every single day we’ve been here. We cannot escape them, as we are outside even when we’re in the house. Mosquito nets help, but I can’t realistically keep myself and both children sequestered under them all day. Insect repellents, both natural and nuclear, help somewhat, but nothing stops the ants, and their bites hurt the worst. Last night I tried to count my bites. I stopped at 40, because I couldn’t decide if I should only count the ones that still itch (40), or if I should include the older ones that aren’t actively torturing me anymore. I am taking a mega B vitamin supplement, using repellent religiously, trying a variety of natural remedies to deal with the itching, and trying not to scratch the bites into open sores. Graham is also pretty afflicted, and there is no keeping him from mad scratching. To keep him healthy, I sneakily apply salves and antibiotic creams to his bites after he falls asleep at night. Dean and Zach are faring better, though they are by no means free from itch. 
• Lack of privacy. Our open living room means that other guests, the owners, and their employees can all look right in as they pass on the nearby path. Also, there’s no sound privacy, so our children’s frequent wails are very audible to everyone around. I find myself thinking that everyone is a one-kilometer radius must think I’m a terrible mother. I have to be fully dressed to get up for some water at night. I worry that we’re infringing on other people’s vacations. No one is trying to spy or eavesdrop on us, but I can’t help being self-conscious about how exposed we are. The property as a whole feels very private from the rest of the world, but I am pretty ready for enclosed walls. Blessed, blessed doors and walls.
• Loneliness. I miss my friends and family so, so much. That means you. 
• Insane children. The kids are on top of each other all day long, and are much harder to entertain here. I miss the structure of school, having a plethora of toys, having play dates, and BABYSITTING. Oh boy do I miss having a little childcare in my life. 
• Unsafe children. It’s hard to babyproof a home that your one-year-old can literally climb out of. Dean is so adventurous. I miss being able to lock up a cabinet, outlet covers, etc. 
• Street harassment. I had read about catcalling on the streets here, but I hadn’t really experienced it, because apparently the perverts leave you alone when you have a husband or child with you. As I’ve started making some more solo trips to town, I’ve had some nasty encounters/comments that I was simply not prepared for. 
• The smallness of my world here. It’s a small town, not much to do (at least that is kid friendly), and getting to other places is difficult/expensive. I am unused to feeling stuck, and I think of my regular travel radius in Texas with awe and envy. 

We talked about relocating for the last month. It’s just not practical. We may be able to travel somewhere else for the last 10 days or so, and I am crossing my fingers for that. I’d like to see the Monteverde area. We are also going to rent a car for a couple more weekends and do some mini-trips around this coast. 

All that said, I am feeling better today. I don’t want to give the impression that this summer has been a disaster, and I feel whiney complaining about this amazing trip. The things I was bracing myself for — no car, few consumer goods/groceries available, heat, etc. — I have dealt with well. The things I’ve listed above I either didn’t anticipate or didn’t realize would affect me so much. I am trying to focus as much as possible on the things I do like. So as not to be make this post a total downer, allow me to list a few:

• The surplus of beauty. Costa Rica’s every plant, butterfly, vista, and birdsong are all trying to out-gorgeous each other. We are the lucky beneficiaries of that competition. I see dozens of beautiful things every day, from hummingbirds to ocean. I’ve stopped remarking on it because I sound so redundant. “Oh, look how gorgeous!” I mean, come on, tell us something we don’t know, Elizabeth! 
• Puerto Viejo is charming, it really is. This is a cool area of the world. I may not want to come here for three months again, but I am happy to have gotten to know it. 
• Perspective. My sufferings (and yes, that is tongue-in-cheek) here make me realize how amazingly luxurious our life in Texas is. More than that, getting to know how people live here makes me realize how lucky Americans are. The minimum wage in Costa Rica is $2/hour, and while housing is pretty cheap, food and various goods are really not. People here not only have less in the way of material goods, but also less education (schools in the area being, according to everyone we’ve talked to, pretty bad and sometimes inaccessible) and fewer job opportunities beyond the service sector. Being in a different world is enlightening, even if it’s hard.

I don’t regret that we’re here. But it’s not paradise. It’s hard, fun, interesting, different, expanding, exhausting, educational… And itchy. 

Tom and Kay’s visit wrapped up with a zipline adventure!

This is how they suit you up!

Plunge into the jungle, 150′ in the air!

Zach and Tom went first, and I mocked the helmets when I saw the photos. Then I couldn’t break on the first line and had a bit of a crash landing — boy was I glad for my helmet! In my defense, the lines were wet when Kay and I went and all of us had a hard time braking. I was not the only gringa flying too fast through the jungle that day.


One of the guides, a certifiably insane person.


The views were breathtaking, and zipping along like that felt like being a kid again. It was a really cool experience!

Zach’s Uncle Tom and Aunt Kay are here this week and it’s great! Yesterday we went down the coast to Manzanillo beach. Beautiful, of course.




Tom has had a huge influence on Zach, and this opportunity for the boys to get to know him and Kay is really precious. We’re so glad they were willing to make the trip!

We’re back to sweating and itching in our jungle home after a whirlwind trip through the center of the country! I’m happy to report that there were no more brushes with death, though we wildly underestimated how long the driving would be on each leg of the trip, so Graham and Dean would probably argue that they were perilously close to being bored to death quite a lot.





We arrived at the Arenal Lodge in the late afternoon on Saturday, played on the playground, introduced Graham to foosball, and had a delicious dinner. On Sunday we were able to upgrade to one of their “chalet” rooms — it was incredible! The chalets are up on a hill with a gorgeous view of the volcano and surrounding valley and lake. We took a nature walk, played in the butterfly garden, and spent some time in the nearby town of La Fortuna. A pizza for dinner in our room, Star Wars Episode 3, and an awe-inspiring thunderstorm completed our day.









We didn’t see any lava (too cloudy at night), but the volcano did make some impressive sounds. We were suitably impressed.


On Monday morning, we set out for Santa Cruz, a little town in the hills between San Jose and the Atlantic coast. “Surely,” we said to each other, “driving through San Jose would be faster!” Oh, to be so naive and starry-eyed again! Six hours of driving, and much doubt in my heart that we would ever reach our destination, brought us to the Guayabo Lodge, a remote little jewel of a bed and breakfast.


Its beauty could not be adequately captured by photographs, but here are a few anyway.

The boys especially enjoyed making friends with the resident baby animals, and Graham played his first game of ping pong against an eight-year-old Dutch girl.






Click below for more photos.

Arenal & Guayabo Lodge

Wow, this has been quite a day. There have been some twists and turns, both literally and figuratively, in our journey.

The not-so-good side:

The journey took about 2 hours longer than we expected and we almost died. I know I have been known to speak… hyperbolically… in the past, but I swear I’m not now. As we were winding our way through one of the narrow mountain roads, an 18-wheeler driven by a complete imbecile nearly ran us off the road. We were in a stand-off for a couple of tense minutes as we were blocked in by a ravine (gorge? valley?) on one side and this dude to our left, front, and back. Some heroic driving by Zach (backing up on the windy road, pulling within an inch of doom to the shoulder, etc) finally freed us. I was leaning towards him in the hopes that shifting my weight towards his side would save all our lives. Seriously. Near collapse of Elizabeth’s nerves afterwards, not relieved until consuming half a bottle of wine with dinner. My precious children need to live. I don’t even know how to express how scary that was.

Arrived 2 hours later than anticipated at our hotel to find our reservation did not go through. We’ll be in very cramped quarters tonight in the standard room, which was all they had left. Also, no power at the hotel until about 7 pm, which was inconvenient but not, you know, life threatening or anything.

The plus side:

We got our rental car this morning with no major issues. Our Daihatsu Terios is compact, adorable, and has 4-wheel drive. The children were great on our drive. We saw a monkey crossing the road as we were leaving the Caribbean side! (Mommy: Graham, why was that monkey crossing the road? Graham: Because he wanted to go to the other side!)

Our hotel is AWESOME, even with a small room. The Arenal Lodge has a kids’ playroom, a very decent restaurant, a butterfly garden, excellent volcano views, and a playground! Apparently we can switch rooms tomorrow, and we’re hoping to get one with a view and enough beds for all of us. The nearest town, La Fortuna, looks really neat, and we’re excited to explore tomorrow.

This part of the country, with its rolling hills, lush greenery and COOL weather, is amazing. It is so beautiful and lush. Oh, and no bugs so far! We’re pretty excited about the break from heat, humidity, and mosquitos.

And, of course, we’re alive. And incredibly grateful for that. Life is very, very good. We are grateful.