YO YO! UPDATE TIME!

August 28, 2010 – 6:22 a.m.

LIZ IS HERE! Man, yesterday/last night was an ADVENTURE all its own. I woke up pretty early yesterday as usual. I began working right away. Cleaning, disinfecting the counters, starting laundry (and discovered that the outlet used to power the washing machine DOES NOT WORK!) So, around 9, Jimmy came by. Jimmy is this badass Tico guy who brings us stuff from town that is too heavy to carry ourselves. He gets us cooking oil, flower, large bags of rice, chicken feed, and so on. Anyway, he is fluent in English, and is awesome to converse with. So, he came by, asked how I was doing, and helped me out a little with some electrical stuff (to no avail!). When I told him I was going into town later, he said that it was unnecessary for me to take the bus and that he’d just drop me off on his way back. So, while he went and talked to the “boys” as he calls them (Carlos and Wilburth -- they work on the trees here sometimes and they are both significantly older than him. Haha).I got my stuff together and waited at his truck for him to come back. I have to preface this experience by describing the truck. I don’t remember the model, but it was a lifted maroon Toyota straight out of 1996, complete with all of the epic monster-truck-esque gear and mudflaps for which I do not know the proper nomenclature. It even had the weird abstract decals on the sides, a chain license plate cover, and it was a stick shift! My favorite part, however, was when we climbed in. The seats were covered in this red velvet material, the dash was red leather. Hanging from the rear view mirror was the tackiest, gaudiest, most ridiculous plastic white-and-yellow rosary I’ve ever seen. I was instantly in love. It had giant beads that ended in a massive cross with a sad looking impaled Jesus cast immortally in plastic. Those of you who know me well should be aware that I have a soft spot for catholic kitsch. Saint medallions, candles, rosaries, prayer cards, ANYTHING! Mi Corazon! No, it gets better. Jimmy climbs in the truck, and I complimented him OF COURSE on his amazing wheels. He thanked me and said he enjoyed driving his truck. I told him it was awesome that for work he gets to basically go off-roading all the time. He owns a few farms in Costa Rica, and he gets paid independently by other farm owners to do similar errands for them. Since the owners of this farm live in the states, he’s basically saved them from getting ripped off too badly and made sure that it doesn’t burn down and that the volunteers are safe. Anyway, enough background. After I climbed in and was overwhelmed by the plush seats and sad looking plastic Jesus, he turns on his car. What is playing? MADONNA. CIRCA 1980s. LIKE A VIRGIN. THAT ALBUM. I thought it was funny that they would play Madonna on the radio here. THEN, I REALIZED IT WAS AN IPOD HOOKUP. Oh my God. Best day of my life. In addition to all of these amazing things, we had really great conversation! Let me tell you, being in a car and having a conversation with someone in English for an hour, especially after not doing either of those for two and a half weeks, was amazing. He told me all of the places I need to see here, told me about his time spent in the states, talked about how knowing English had gotten him farther in Costa Rica than his degree ever did, taught me about different kinds of trees… Apparently, he has invested in our farm and will be supervising the planting of over 8000 trees here. They will grow for 15 years and then be harvested. It is a profit-based project, but it is also certified by the government to help lower the carbon footprint since it’s a special sort of reforestation. It’s pretty cool. 

So, I eventually got into town and I had a few hours to kill (like 7). I went to the internet café and sat on the balcony like I always do. I got to skype with MONIQUE! Oh lord. It was good to hear her voice. We talked for easily an hour. I eventually realized I had to find food (I didn’t want any fainting incidents). So I went to this place called crispy pollo. It’s pretty self explanatory. Believe it or not, I didn’t choose any of the fried options! I had this really great rice with chunks of shredded chicken (OH MY GOD) and black beans and tortillas. The best part of this dish: the salsa. It wasn’t spicy, no. It was CHIMI-FUCKING-CHURRI sauce. So good. I like how my favorite thing about Costa Rican food so far is actually Argentinan. Oh well. My friend Belen would appreciate that. Viva! And, my dish came with a free 16 ounce soda. So weird. I haven’t had soda in at least a month. Like the Utah native that I am, I got orange soda (or pop, rather). I definitely haven’t had that stuff in a good five years. It was majestic. The music created by the flavors was a symphony for my palate. (I’m really into music metaphors lately – ya dig?) 

Then, I walked around some more. I saw a real street walker propositioning people. She was awesome. It was reassuring that I wasn’t the only hot mess wandering the streets of San Isidro. 

I still had more time to kill, so I went and got a cup of coffee and a cake. Yeah, apparently, being in town means I eat the world. It’s okay. THIS COFFEE WAS SO DAMN GOOD. I never am picky about when I order at coffee shops – especially if it’s independently owned. I know that sounds strange, but being in the “business” for so many years, I find that baristas always know what is best. This is the rule: if you let them work their magic, disappointment will never ensue. 

This was half coffee half milk with sugar in it, I didn’t have to add anything to it. The cake I picked was really rich – it was almost a cheese like consistency while also being slightly similar to flan. I would have been able to handle it a lot better with black coffee. I downed my coffee and only ate about half of the nameless cake-thing.

I waited by the MUSOC bus station for awhile. I wrote. I perfected my article on how much I hate Deepak Chopra. I’m posting it here, it’s going to be good. It will be a nice sample of my “academic” writing. Hahaha. Yes, I write critiques on modern figures just for fun. I am that much of a nerd. So, as I was standing outside, this taxi driver came and harassed me. See, they always start out nice. But they just want your money. They prey on sad and lost looking tourists (they all didn’t ambush me this time -- just the one. This means I am becoming more savvy in appearing not as lost as I actually am). He tried to convince me to take a taxi, I told him I really didn’t need one, that we might even be staying in the city tonight. He was irritating me so much that I decided to walk from the MUSOC to the secondary meeting place – the other bus depot next to the CoopeAgri market. I waited there for awhile, time passed and I knew Liz should have been there by that time. I don’t have a cell phone here, so I was launched back to the dinosaur ages of strings connecting tin cans, yelling across wide ravines, howling fog horns, and delivering post via carrier pigeon. Well, I did have a phone card, but I didn’t have Liz’s number. I only have three numbers memorized. Farah’s, Amber’s, and My mom’s. And maybe Kelly’s. or so I THOUGHT. I tried calling Farah because I knew she would be with Monique (they were going to LA together that day), and Monique would surely have Liz’s number. No answer. Left a message. Then, all of a sudden, in my moment of desperation, 10 digits started flashing in my head. I have no idea how it happened. It is inexplicable the way the mind can function in times of need. I was dumbfounded. I was sure it was either a random amalgam of numbers, or maybe an ex boyfriend or something. I didn’t know. What the hell, I thought. I called it. LIZ’S VOICE WAS ON THE OTHER LINE! OH MY GOD! She told me she was at the other bus station. I immediately told her to stay where she was and I basically sprinted there down five or six blocks. IT WAS SO GOOD TO SEE HER. Gah. So, we chatted, went grocery (booze) shopping, and then decided to get drinks. I haven’t been out ONCE since I’ve been here, so since we had to take a cab back to the farm anyway, we figured that we might as well get wasted. We found this little Italian place (yes, Italian food in Costa Rica, don’t judge me) and went and sat down. It was really quaint and the booths were so comfortable. It was extremely strange for me just being in civilization again and doing something as mundane as ordering off a menu. We started off with “shots” of tequila. These beasts were HUGE. They were at least 2.5 ounces each. God. Then, we ordered personal pizzas. HAVING CHEESE AFTER THREE WEEKS OF NO DAIRY IS BOTH GREAT AND TERRIBLE. It was so delicious, SO DELICIOUS, but it wreaked havoc on my digestive system. I’m sure poor Liz regretted sharing a bed with me later. Ha. Then, we had two more beers each through the course of the meal (IMPERIAL!) and were both crying messes by the time the pizza was gone. It was really good to talk like that though. So, we paid drunkenly, I thanked the guys who worked there. As a side note, every time I’ve been to a restaurant here, it hasn’t felt like I’ve been at one. People are so hospitable here -- it feels like I’m in someone’s home rather than in a public place paying for a meal.

Since we missed the final bus from town, we had to take a taxi back. By this time, we were both kind of tipsy. Explaining the location to any taxi driver without the language barrier is incredibly difficult. The dirt roads don’t have any street names, and they all look exactly alike. Especially in the dark. Especially in the dark while you’re inebriated. Needless to say, the taxi driver and I became fast friends. I prefaced our cab ride by telling him that my Spanish was “muy muy malo” and we that we lived super far away up a dirt road. Basically, “your mission, should you choose to accept it…” He took on the challenge. When I explained to him how far the farm was, he had to call another cab driver on his radio in order to find out exactly how to get there. Somehow being completely drunk, I busted out my Spanish the whole way home. The cab driver and I talked extensively about many things, especially considering my extremely limited knowledge of the language here. I think Liz was impressed too, considering I’ve never taken a Spanish class in my life. 100% self taught, baby! The cab driver told me all the foods I have to try and everywhere Liz and I need to visit. He asked us about the animals on the farm, and I told him how I party with the chickens every day, but it’s a shame because we can’t eat them. I cracked him up a few times. I would not have been able to have that conversation sober. Eventually, several wrong turns and $40 later, I got us back to the farm. Thank God.

August 31st 2010, 5:37 a.m.

Having Liz back here has been absolutely incredible. I haven’t been writing as much because I’ve actually been doing stuff. Yesterday we woke up early, made breakfast, did some chores. We were reading inside for awhile until we decided, since it was unusually hot, that we’d hike down to the river. BEST choice ever. We packed my back pack full of extra bug spray, sunscreen, towels, and our sandals. We put on our bathing suits and set off. It was such a perfect day. The sun was high in the sky and wisps of little clouds danced through the serene azure blue. It was unbelievable to think that the same place was home to frequent thunderstorms. About 45 minutes later, we made it down to the water. The stream was so clear! We stripped down and put on our sandals before exploring the water. The water line was low because it hadn’t rained that day, and the water felt cool, fresh, and clean. We eventually found a spot to sit in it – on top of a really smooth moss covered rock. The current brushed right past our backs at a decent speed. It felt like being in a cool spa! The sand and sediment around was also really smooth. I grabbed handfuls of it and began to rub it on my feet and hands before washing it off. I’m such a girl. I love natural exfoliators. Liz liked the idea and so I began to hand her scoops of sand. There we were, sitting in a river in a rain forest, with mud all over us. We couldn’t stop laughing. Then, as we were plopped in the middle of our own tropical Walden pond, we saw a Tico on horseback approaching the river. The spot we were sitting was right next to where the river cuts through the trail, so it wasn’t unusual to see someone cross there. Anyway, we didn’t know him, but he waved at us anyway and smiled. We waved back. We probably looked ridiculous – two American bikini-clad girls with mud all over their faces – one of whom is extremely pale. Ha. Right as we were commenting on how clean the water was, we looked up and saw the horse take a massive shit as it was crossing the river. It’s manure dropped in the water, bobbed whimsically, and began to float down stream. Despite us being upstream from it, we both couldn’t stop laughing. The best part is, we stayed in the water for another 30 minutes or so after that.

The hike back from the river kills me every time. It’s a good feeling once I’m done, but it’s about 2 km at a straight incline. Liz owned me on speed. I like going with her because I’m forced to go at a faster pace. After we got back to the house, I downed some water and relaxed for a bit. Then, Liz said we should go work out. SHIT. So, we did. We did the routine that one of Kelly’s trainer friends taught me. We’ve been doing it every day together. It’s awesome because you can modify it as it gets easier. Needless to say, I am so damn sore today.

September 1st , 2010

I just got back from working out again. To be fair, there is nothing else to do here, so I might as well become wonder woman. Regardless… my soul has been slaughtered. Liz and I did the trail to the bus stop and back, it’s about 4 miles and I’d say that 30 or 40 percent of it is at a straight incline. Then, we worked out for another half hour doing repetitions of squats, crunches, and pushups. I am going to be so ripped by the time I leave here. My whole body is screaming right now – probably in protest – but I’m not giving in.

Yesterday afternoon Liz and I went on an exploration of the farm looking for new fruit we hadn’t tried yet. Despite the few adventures I went on by myself, I barely began to canvass the 50 acres of our sprawling land. We went a few acres east into the banana and coffee groves. It’s awesome, the coffee is shade grown because of the gigantic banana leaves, and the bananas benefit from having the coffee near too. It’s something about the nutrients that the coffee plant is able to bring up in the soil. Anyway, I hacked down a gigantic bushel of bananas with my machete and carried it on my back. I felt like such a badass. Then, we were able to cut down a few banana trees so they could begin their process of regrowth. Once a banana tree yields its bushel, it dies. Then, all you have to do is cut it down and chop the stump into sections, and new banana trees will begin to grow directly where the stumps have fallen. I’d insert some pithy phoenix metaphor here, but I’m way too beat to think straight. We also found some cacao beans, guanabana, oranges, and limes. Once we got back to the house, I volunteered to become the tester. The cacao beans tasted terrible. Obviously they shouldn’t be eaten raw. The guanabana wasn’t ripe yet, but it still tasted slightly sweet. It had the consistency of pumpkin flesh. The oranges were sour, but good. The limes were DELICIOUS. Needless to say, they complimented our citrus flavored Absolut quite nicely in our cocktails that evening. Today, Liz made egg salad from stuff we just had on the farm. She even put eggplant in it. It was also great. We are both getting really creative with our meal preparation. I usually make breakfast and she makes dinner. Whoever is hungrier makes lunch. Ha. My favorite ingredient to add to any meal (aside from garlic and onion) is our fresh thai basil. It is extremely aromatic and it makes the whole shack smell amazing anytime we’re cooking with it.

I’m glad we worked out this morning – it’s barely noon and the rain is coming. I also feel like it should be at least 5 p.m., but this distortion of time is inevitable when you wake at five every morning. I think I need a nap. As I’m writing this, my eyelids are slowly drifting closed. I can hear the sprinkling of rain hit the tin roof and slowly intensify. Each drop catalyzes a different tonality – some echo, some thunk, some sound tinny, some ring. They sound like music notes – or maybe an eccentric percussion section of some post-modern orchestra. Regardless, it’s a pleasant manner in which to fall asleep – with these little sounds hovering in the periphery of my consciousness. The rain is falling harder now – in sheets. It sounds like someone is dropping buckets of tacks or nails onto the tin – but instead of sliding down and screeching – they bounce off and make way for more. It is incredibly soothing. I can’t imagine falling asleep without these sounds. The rain-cooled air is blowing through my chicken wire window and I feel it breathing over my bare skin – easing the heat out of my reddened shoulders. Although I don’t think I’m going to be “tan” by the time I leave, I’ve already succeeded in ridding my skin of its foetid pallor. I have a lot more freckles, and my skin is still creamy – just with a slight tinge of color to it. I’m opaque! But really. It’s nap time.