Me: Hello?
Spanish Speaking Gentleman: Bueno! Very Fast Spanish for about 30 seconds. 
Me: Uh… No habla Espanol.  
SSG: No habla Espanol?
Me: No, no habla Espanol. 
SSG: Rapid Spanish for another 15 seconds. 

It was clear to me that communication was unlikely. I hung up the phone. 

Zach: Who was that?
Me: Some guy. I could only catch a few words of what he said, so I told him I don’t speak Spanish.
Zach:  Actually, you told him HE didn’t speak Spanish. 

At which point I hung my head in deep, abiding shame.

As we came down out of the mountains on our way to San José from La Fortuna, the first substantial city we entered was San Ramon, the place we were to meet up with the interstate highway. As soon as we were within the city limits, we were flagged down by the transit police. Right away I had a lump in my throat, since I was driving with an expired license. Maybe they won’t care. It’s not a Costa Rican license anyway. By the way, this was one of those things on my getting-ready list that slipped through the cracks.

Señor Transit Police was middle-aged with gray hair. His English was just as bad as my Spanish, which is to say bad. He double- and triple-checked: “¿No habla español?” Of course he noticed right away that my license was expired. He seemed incredulous that I would just grimace and nod, and not try to make an excuse or beg for mercy (maybe it was just that I didn’t know the Spanish for “mercy”). He indicated that he was going to write a ticket, and still I just nodded and said “Sí, claro.” Nonplussed, he said he would go get his friend, who could speak English. I was beginning to wonder if they were going to take my family of four “downtown.”

I don’t know if Señor Transit Police numero dos could speak English, but he certainly didn’t attempt it. What he did do, was to ask for twenty thousand colones (equivalent to forty U.S. dollars) and insist that Elizabeth drive instead. Elizabeth and I started digging through our pockets. Between the two of us, we had around four dollars. I said I needed an ATM (Necesito un cajero automatico). He conferred with his partner, who said “¡Que lastima!” Various internet searches suggest that this either means “What a pity!” or “I’m in pain!” Take your pick.

The first cop came back to the window. He said he was going to help us by letting us go. I wasn’t sure I heard him right. I think what I said to him translates as “I can let’s go?!”

As I pulled cautiously away from the curb and took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, Eliabeth said, “Was that a shakedown?” The fog in my head began to clear. “Yeah, I think it was.” Welcome to San Ramon, gringos.

Yo tengo muchos hombres mucho mas gigantes…

Which translates as “I have many men much more huge than that!”

I love eavesdropping in a second language.

On the way home, my bike’s chain popped off the gears. I pulled it over to the side of the road and started trying to slip it back on. That’s when Roberto arrived on the scene!

Ticos are a friendly and helpful people, and I suppose I pretty much screamed “gringa in distress.” He immediately took charge of the repair, and I got to have my first full conversation in my (pathetic) Spanish. He succeeded in fixing the bike and then invited me to go to the discotech with him. I told him I was married with two children. He reacted with surprise… and then I think he might have suggested that I could still go out with him despite being married… I decided not to try and understand that part.

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The jungle has its ups and downs. I continue to feel like a wilty flower from 11-3 every day. Texas has nothing on this place for humidity. The first thing Graham said this morning was, “I don’t want to stay here!!!!” Dean is somewhat easier to please, but he’s also having a lot of meltdowns. I am covered in bug bites and have been warned to treat even a paper cut with neosporin, etc., so that we don’t get flesh eating bacterial infections, YIKES.

On the other hand, it’s beautiful. The flora is incredible. It feels like plants rule this place and we just try to stay out of their way. There are tons of hummingbirds and butterflies and other pretty creatures. And every day we’re seeing or doing something new. Today is Zach’s 33rd birthday; we shall celebrate with going out for homemade ice cream, dinner at the Loco Natural Restaurant, and perhaps some family bike riding.

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One more note:  This morning I had my first encounter with a scary jungle creature. I unknowingly squished a scorpion under my cutting board when I was making breakfast. EW.