This is the end.
But not really.
I bet you are curious.
Did I experience local customs and develop fantastic Spanish speaking skills? Yep.
Did I explore the country, coast to coast, mountains to oceans? Yes.
Did I cultivate love in Costa Rica? Oh Yes!
My experience here has been amazing, and yet it has also been regular life. Ups and downs, happys and sads, loves and un-loves.
I take the 4 hour bus trip from San Jose to Liberia and spend the night there. I will visit with my original couchsurfing friend once again and off-load some of my American stuff. I travel with my favorite person.
This time feels exciting but normal. Another event in the day-in-the-life of me.
Absorbing all.
Hugs and Besos!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Time Flies When...
...you are in the perfect place at the perfect time.
I want to spend less time online and more time living.
Summary-style:
I stayed at the communal-style hostel for one week in Uvita. I took bus trips, motorcycle rides and hitchhiked with a Tico family (funny enough it was the mother who wanted to pick me up) to make a couple of day trips to the next town, Dominical. Played basketball with a couple Ticos, whom I beat in the game 21 without too much aggressive fouling that I learned from playing with Donald. Explored the local spots including the watering hole with small waterfall and rope swing. Watched pre-teen boys doing double front flips off the rope before I took my turn and pencil-dropped into the water...to find out it was less than 5 feet deep! My jarred legs and scraped knee were not very happy but all is well. Note to self, ask HOW deep. Met a wonderful friend, Robert, who is biking around the world (http://robsbikeride.com/). Left Uvita at 5:15am after unexpectedly changing my bus plan so this hug is for you Rob!!!
Made my way up to the mountain village of San Gerardo de Dota. Spent 3 nights hiking around the area, going bird watching and spending time with my favorite person. Spotted the famed Quetzal bird and even got some pictures with my awesome-zoom camera.
Currently I am hopping through the capitol city, San Jose, to get to Tortuguero in order to spend time in the marsh. Looking forward to canoeing, kayaking, hiking, Caribbean food once again, small town atmosphere.
Time is really flying. I find myself planning several days ahead instead of just one day at a time in order to do what I need while here. My brain, though initially resistant, is thinking about MN and life upon return. Traveling is a great way to reinvent onself and I am curious to see which points stick and which ones float away.
I look forward to connecting with loving friends and family when I return. Though I am not coming with tangible gifts or souvenirs I hope to transport you with some of my stories.
And with that, I bid you adieu.
I want to spend less time online and more time living.
Summary-style:
I stayed at the communal-style hostel for one week in Uvita. I took bus trips, motorcycle rides and hitchhiked with a Tico family (funny enough it was the mother who wanted to pick me up) to make a couple of day trips to the next town, Dominical. Played basketball with a couple Ticos, whom I beat in the game 21 without too much aggressive fouling that I learned from playing with Donald. Explored the local spots including the watering hole with small waterfall and rope swing. Watched pre-teen boys doing double front flips off the rope before I took my turn and pencil-dropped into the water...to find out it was less than 5 feet deep! My jarred legs and scraped knee were not very happy but all is well. Note to self, ask HOW deep. Met a wonderful friend, Robert, who is biking around the world (http://robsbikeride.com/). Left Uvita at 5:15am after unexpectedly changing my bus plan so this hug is for you Rob!!!
Made my way up to the mountain village of San Gerardo de Dota. Spent 3 nights hiking around the area, going bird watching and spending time with my favorite person. Spotted the famed Quetzal bird and even got some pictures with my awesome-zoom camera.
Currently I am hopping through the capitol city, San Jose, to get to Tortuguero in order to spend time in the marsh. Looking forward to canoeing, kayaking, hiking, Caribbean food once again, small town atmosphere.
Time is really flying. I find myself planning several days ahead instead of just one day at a time in order to do what I need while here. My brain, though initially resistant, is thinking about MN and life upon return. Traveling is a great way to reinvent onself and I am curious to see which points stick and which ones float away.
I look forward to connecting with loving friends and family when I return. Though I am not coming with tangible gifts or souvenirs I hope to transport you with some of my stories.
And with that, I bid you adieu.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Carate, Costa Rica
I spent the past 3 days and 2 nights camping with my favorite travel buddy, Rory. Camping is one of those things I wanted to do out here but do not have the necessary equipment or confidence to go alone. Being an economical traveler rather than a luxury vacationer I refused to pay for a guide or rent equipment and go with a group. Rory had all the basic, necessary equipment: small tent with rain flap, shovel, hatchet, small propane stove with a cooking pot and wilderness experience and confidence. Add that to my car-camping knowledge from growing up (basic fire starting and maintenance skills, cooking, gathering firewood) and the 2 most-used utensils I travel with (spork-knifoon from Sarah and switchblade knife from Dad) to establish a potentially successful experience.
It started with us taking a collective taxi from Puerto Jimenez to Carate. This was a 2.5 hour ride of bouncing up and down in the back of a tarp-covered truck filled with locals, boxes of food and beer, and budget travelers with their large packs and surfboards. The benches, with their thin padding filled up quickly. Stops were made along the way to pick up locals needing to hop on for part of the distance. They handed over their bags of rice or young child to the passenger closest to the back and then crawled over the barred-up door to find a small standing space. The jostling was intense but as a first experience rather delightful in my eyes.
We arrived at our destination by 4pm and took a path out from the trees that led straight toward the ocean. Rory scoped out the location and found a neat little camping space up on the ledge covered by trees. We set up his little yellow tent and did our own thing. I wandered back into the forest, intrigued by the coconut trees extending high up - too high to climb or knock one down with a length of bamboo - and within a couple hours found 6 coconuts on the ground that were not yet ravaged by monkeys. Add that to the 4 cuadrado (square) fruit I scavenged from deep in the thicket of meshed trees and vines and we had ourselves fresh tropical fruit to last the duration of our trip. I used my firewood gathering skills from childhood to haul armloads of dry driftwood back to the campsite. I definitely earned the sweat and dirt that still stains my clothing. And, even better than that, the sense of satisfaction, self-sufficiency, and strength that goes with finding and creating those things which sustain our basic human needs.
There was only a sliver of a moon and as dark settled in I felt very small and afraid of the dark in the wide open space. On one side of me the powerful ocean churned out waves continuously while on the others there were rainforest noises impossible for me to identify and, therefore, feel easy about. Occasionally I saw a shadow on the beach that turned out to be somethings random, such as a horse-drawn cart being driven by a Tico. Rory recognized my fear and from that simple understanding helped me feel more relaxed.
We watched the fire burn until midnight and found easy entertainment and tranquility in each others company. Staring up through the vent in the tent I saw the palms and leaf silhouttes waving high above us. We hid our bags under the rain flap and hoped the monkeys would not steal our stuff in an effort to locate food.
My first night was restless and so I was up early. Rorys stove was not working so we got a morning fire going and enjoyed oatmeal that I doctored up with mango, cuadrado (similar tasting to a banana) and bits of coconut. Coconut was my glory of the trip! After chopping the husk off and peeling it I cracked open the tops to drink the water, dice the meat and pulverize a small bit of it into a thick milk. I invented a mortar and pestle using the shell, small bowls and cups for holding coffee and soup broth.
The sun on the beach was intense so I was burnt by 8am before I even took the time to apply sunscreen. I took the opportunity to nap for a couple hours mid-day and then it was back to fire-building and exploring. Wandering down the beach before dusk we found a shaded inlet where a river ran through. We used river water for drinking after purifying with a pump and Rory fashioned a bathtub of sorts by damning up the space using rocks and natural materials.
After finishing up in this space we made our way back to the campsite, 20 minutes away. We talked and played like big kids, skipping, sprint racing and yelling obscenities into the open space.
No longer afraid of the wild I was free to be in my body. I did yoga on a log half-covered by ocean waves and moved from the water to the fire on my own terms. As I sat on this secluded beach nestled right up to the Costa Rican rainforest I let go of emotional and physical restrictions. There was some skinny dipping. And joy. And a sense of freedom.
On our last morning I awoke at 6am and took a stroll down the beach. I watched trees that held a dozen scarlet macaws squawking and playing around. I sat still to observe the 30 pelicans in their morning routine on the water. I wandered without a goal or expectation.
When I returned to the campsite at 830am I had coffee from a coconut, some tropical oatmeal in the shade. Anticipating a full day of blazing sun, we packed a small backpack with water, a snack of peanuts and raisins, a camera and a towel. We made our way to our shaded river and spent hours there. I relaxed on the rocks and watched the trees for natural entertainment: monkeys, birds, lizards, gorgeous greenery and flowers. Rory entertained himself doing man jobs.
The time came when we needed to return to the campsite and pack up. We did so quietly. At ease in our surroudings and with each other. It was a beautiful experience, one that can never be replicated and so will always be appreciated.
We bounced up and down all the way back to Puerto Jimenez on the Collectivo - not as fun having your insides rattled out as the first time, but an experience of its own.
Today we are off to Uvita. In this beach town there will be space for relaxing, story-writing reflection, bicycling, surfing and cooking in our hostel. I have only 2.5 weeks left here in Costa Rica. I am reminded how much time is left every morning that I wake up. And so I breathe. Absorb the moments and try to enjoy them fully.
I am filled with love and sending a special hug to my favorite mom on this Mothers Day. May your day be wonderful!
It started with us taking a collective taxi from Puerto Jimenez to Carate. This was a 2.5 hour ride of bouncing up and down in the back of a tarp-covered truck filled with locals, boxes of food and beer, and budget travelers with their large packs and surfboards. The benches, with their thin padding filled up quickly. Stops were made along the way to pick up locals needing to hop on for part of the distance. They handed over their bags of rice or young child to the passenger closest to the back and then crawled over the barred-up door to find a small standing space. The jostling was intense but as a first experience rather delightful in my eyes.
We arrived at our destination by 4pm and took a path out from the trees that led straight toward the ocean. Rory scoped out the location and found a neat little camping space up on the ledge covered by trees. We set up his little yellow tent and did our own thing. I wandered back into the forest, intrigued by the coconut trees extending high up - too high to climb or knock one down with a length of bamboo - and within a couple hours found 6 coconuts on the ground that were not yet ravaged by monkeys. Add that to the 4 cuadrado (square) fruit I scavenged from deep in the thicket of meshed trees and vines and we had ourselves fresh tropical fruit to last the duration of our trip. I used my firewood gathering skills from childhood to haul armloads of dry driftwood back to the campsite. I definitely earned the sweat and dirt that still stains my clothing. And, even better than that, the sense of satisfaction, self-sufficiency, and strength that goes with finding and creating those things which sustain our basic human needs.
There was only a sliver of a moon and as dark settled in I felt very small and afraid of the dark in the wide open space. On one side of me the powerful ocean churned out waves continuously while on the others there were rainforest noises impossible for me to identify and, therefore, feel easy about. Occasionally I saw a shadow on the beach that turned out to be somethings random, such as a horse-drawn cart being driven by a Tico. Rory recognized my fear and from that simple understanding helped me feel more relaxed.
We watched the fire burn until midnight and found easy entertainment and tranquility in each others company. Staring up through the vent in the tent I saw the palms and leaf silhouttes waving high above us. We hid our bags under the rain flap and hoped the monkeys would not steal our stuff in an effort to locate food.
My first night was restless and so I was up early. Rorys stove was not working so we got a morning fire going and enjoyed oatmeal that I doctored up with mango, cuadrado (similar tasting to a banana) and bits of coconut. Coconut was my glory of the trip! After chopping the husk off and peeling it I cracked open the tops to drink the water, dice the meat and pulverize a small bit of it into a thick milk. I invented a mortar and pestle using the shell, small bowls and cups for holding coffee and soup broth.
The sun on the beach was intense so I was burnt by 8am before I even took the time to apply sunscreen. I took the opportunity to nap for a couple hours mid-day and then it was back to fire-building and exploring. Wandering down the beach before dusk we found a shaded inlet where a river ran through. We used river water for drinking after purifying with a pump and Rory fashioned a bathtub of sorts by damning up the space using rocks and natural materials.
After finishing up in this space we made our way back to the campsite, 20 minutes away. We talked and played like big kids, skipping, sprint racing and yelling obscenities into the open space.
No longer afraid of the wild I was free to be in my body. I did yoga on a log half-covered by ocean waves and moved from the water to the fire on my own terms. As I sat on this secluded beach nestled right up to the Costa Rican rainforest I let go of emotional and physical restrictions. There was some skinny dipping. And joy. And a sense of freedom.
On our last morning I awoke at 6am and took a stroll down the beach. I watched trees that held a dozen scarlet macaws squawking and playing around. I sat still to observe the 30 pelicans in their morning routine on the water. I wandered without a goal or expectation.
When I returned to the campsite at 830am I had coffee from a coconut, some tropical oatmeal in the shade. Anticipating a full day of blazing sun, we packed a small backpack with water, a snack of peanuts and raisins, a camera and a towel. We made our way to our shaded river and spent hours there. I relaxed on the rocks and watched the trees for natural entertainment: monkeys, birds, lizards, gorgeous greenery and flowers. Rory entertained himself doing man jobs.
The time came when we needed to return to the campsite and pack up. We did so quietly. At ease in our surroudings and with each other. It was a beautiful experience, one that can never be replicated and so will always be appreciated.
We bounced up and down all the way back to Puerto Jimenez on the Collectivo - not as fun having your insides rattled out as the first time, but an experience of its own.
Today we are off to Uvita. In this beach town there will be space for relaxing, story-writing reflection, bicycling, surfing and cooking in our hostel. I have only 2.5 weeks left here in Costa Rica. I am reminded how much time is left every morning that I wake up. And so I breathe. Absorb the moments and try to enjoy them fully.
I am filled with love and sending a special hug to my favorite mom on this Mothers Day. May your day be wonderful!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Buenos Aires, Costa Rica
I have been here for a week. That is much longer than the usual 2 or 3 nights I typically stay in places. It is a nice little town, full of locals rather than tourists and retired Americans. I want to write about all the experiences here, share delight in the small things. The Tico who sold me coconut water and let me hold his 10-month old baby, the motel owner (my new abuellito...small grandpa) who loans me his bicycle on a daily basis free of charge - and tells me with a smile that he hopes I break it so I have to buy him a new one, the farm owner who yelled Hola! to get me to stop and visit for a few minutes in pineapple land, the chef who invited me and my friend to his house since we are staying awhile - the expectation that we stand out on the road and yell his name, Chago, so he knows our arrival.
But all those tidbits are stories I do not feel like writing about so will share with you in-person if you remember to ask. They are soaked into me. And I love telling stories...a new realization for me on this trip. I write short stories frequently here, a shift from my usual diary entries. And I think there is something to it. So I claim what I now see I am... a writer :)
My writing energy was significantly depleted 2 nights ago by a case of traveler´s diarrhea. It was time, I suppose, for me to experience the TD. So if you have a TD story my ears will perk up and I swear to listen this time, because now I know! Ahhh, what to share. Maybe just the highlights, which are more like the lowlights.
It started with an old fish stick dinner. Not what I thought I ordered but I ate it anyway, cleaned my plate as usual. Within 3 hours my stomach was so hard and painful there was no way I was going to sleep for any length of time. Every couple of hours I found myself in the bathroom trying to vomit or use the toilet, to no avail. Nasty, loooooong burps escaped every time I stood up - my body trying to relieve pressure and stagnation. It was not until 6am that ¨things¨started happening. Those ¨things¨ happened frequently for 4 hours until my friend wisely questioned if I should take some medicine. So I conjured up the OTC meds I had begrudgingly purchased from Target only 5 weeks ago, and swallowed two of the pills.
The pills stopped the fluid excursions but the belly pain and stagnation returned. I laid in bed most of the day while my wonderful friend made several trips to the market for provisions of ginger ale, gatorade, watermelon. And by night time I decided it was time for this new experience of mine to be over. Yep, I started on the antibiotics. Relief!
Last night I got some sleep. Today I feel human again. Did some light yoga and am able to eat food - please, don´t mention fish to me though!
I am glad to no longer be kneeling on the bathroom floor, the space small and lacking airflow. To no longer be belching ridiculously or remaining horizontal. To be able to stand in the shower instead of lying under the cool flow of water in an attempt to feel something different.
And having a friend with me.
But all those tidbits are stories I do not feel like writing about so will share with you in-person if you remember to ask. They are soaked into me. And I love telling stories...a new realization for me on this trip. I write short stories frequently here, a shift from my usual diary entries. And I think there is something to it. So I claim what I now see I am... a writer :)
My writing energy was significantly depleted 2 nights ago by a case of traveler´s diarrhea. It was time, I suppose, for me to experience the TD. So if you have a TD story my ears will perk up and I swear to listen this time, because now I know! Ahhh, what to share. Maybe just the highlights, which are more like the lowlights.
It started with an old fish stick dinner. Not what I thought I ordered but I ate it anyway, cleaned my plate as usual. Within 3 hours my stomach was so hard and painful there was no way I was going to sleep for any length of time. Every couple of hours I found myself in the bathroom trying to vomit or use the toilet, to no avail. Nasty, loooooong burps escaped every time I stood up - my body trying to relieve pressure and stagnation. It was not until 6am that ¨things¨started happening. Those ¨things¨ happened frequently for 4 hours until my friend wisely questioned if I should take some medicine. So I conjured up the OTC meds I had begrudgingly purchased from Target only 5 weeks ago, and swallowed two of the pills.
The pills stopped the fluid excursions but the belly pain and stagnation returned. I laid in bed most of the day while my wonderful friend made several trips to the market for provisions of ginger ale, gatorade, watermelon. And by night time I decided it was time for this new experience of mine to be over. Yep, I started on the antibiotics. Relief!
Last night I got some sleep. Today I feel human again. Did some light yoga and am able to eat food - please, don´t mention fish to me though!
I am glad to no longer be kneeling on the bathroom floor, the space small and lacking airflow. To no longer be belching ridiculously or remaining horizontal. To be able to stand in the shower instead of lying under the cool flow of water in an attempt to feel something different.
And having a friend with me.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Boquete, Panama
Is it worth posting when the adventures start to feel like normal life?
I spent the last few days in Boquete, Panama. It started with a bang! I found the local food joint and waited in a slow-moving line to make my choices from the buffet like layout. Not knowing what the different foods were I turned around and asked the people behind me. One thing led to another and before I knew it we were eating together and then going on a motorcycle tour around town. They took me up to the national park trail where the clouds were thick and made it impossible to see without taking my sunglasses off. It was gorgeous and a great introduction to the town. Sometimes I only see the town center where I stay and an extra couple miles where I walk. It made me think about getting a car, or hitchhiking to see more.
The days after that first one were calm. I kicked around town, observed the goings-on that were part of Semana Santa (Holy Week). My hostel was right in the center of town so the preaching and music in the main square kept me awake until 4am a couple nights in a row. But Mamallena Hostal has a great community atmosphere so I stayed a few more nights.
One of the advertised things to do in Boquete is to hike up Volcan Baru. Typically, groups leave at 10:30pm to make the 6 hour trek uphill, watch the sunrise, and then trek back in about 4 hours. I like my sleep so I coordinated a group to leave at 4:30pm instead. I wrote a story about it in my journal so am not going to do so here. In summary, we got to the outdoor shelter and laid out our sleeping bags to sleep under the stars in the 40ish degree weather. I was glad to have my emergency blanket because I made full use of it inside my mummy sleeping bag! Because of the cold I only slept 90 minutes, huddled next to my friend Anna. It was a relief when 4am rolled around and we could get up and trek the last 45 minutes to the peak. I sat up there in my sleeping bag for a couple hours while we all visited, watched the sky lighten slowly, illuminating the mountains and volcano around us. There were 8 of us, from 4 different countries, and we entertained ourselves by playing the alphabet game. I love that all people are just people.
After some meditation, photo opps, and all-around good fun we headed back down the hill. The loose rocks and lack of sleep made the trek down a little less than delightful but we made it. At the entrance we paid our $5 park fee and called a taxi to bring us back to town. But when he got there he wanted to charge $4 per person instead of the official $2pp so out of principle everyone refused. The driver jumped into his car, refusing to negotiate, and peeled outta there. Now, only 5 minutes earlier we were all struggling to make it the short distance to the taxi, but suddenly, there we were, full of energy and walking 20km back to town. Luckily, after 40 minutes of walking we got picked up by a farm truck and rode a few k´s closer to town. But, alas, he had onions to pick up so he directed us to the corner where taxis are supposed to be.
None were there. So on we walked. In the sun. Down the winding road, knees aching. On and on.
20 minutes later the same farm truck turned up, loaded with sacks of onions, and motioned us to jump in. So we did, with just enough space to stand there. He drove us further than his actual destination in order to drop us only 2 or 3 km from town. So we walked some more.
It was a lovely adventure.
And I am distinctly aware that some of you reading this have a problem with me hitchhiking. I could have chosen to not share the story but I like sharing my life with you, the ways I am cultivating love within myself and with the friends around me. This is one of those ways. Please, let your criticism go.
My time in Boquete was grounding. Being in the rainforest, doing a difficult trek that my health could not afford a mere 2 years ago. It opened me up to life and freedom and happiness.
Last night I was in the lobby of the hostal transferring pictures from my camera. One of the reception workers walked in with a lady who is a relocation specialist in Panama. She commented on my hair, liking the short cut. Earlier that day I had the thought that it needs a trim and so I mentioned this to her. She flippantly said if she had scissors she could totally do it. I looked her dead on, asked her if that was true, she said Yes. I jumped up, asked the receptionist for a pair of scissors and was rewarded by her retrieving a pair from the desk. Think 5th grade scissors, plastic handle, small.
Out we went, into the night, and found a place under the streetlight to do a little trim. A lot of time was spent on the left side. My cowlick in back now stands on end. Its asymmetrical and unconventional. But I can´t really tell because there are not a lot of mirrors here.
It feels good.
Spontaneity.
Living.
Cultivating love all over the place.
I spent the last few days in Boquete, Panama. It started with a bang! I found the local food joint and waited in a slow-moving line to make my choices from the buffet like layout. Not knowing what the different foods were I turned around and asked the people behind me. One thing led to another and before I knew it we were eating together and then going on a motorcycle tour around town. They took me up to the national park trail where the clouds were thick and made it impossible to see without taking my sunglasses off. It was gorgeous and a great introduction to the town. Sometimes I only see the town center where I stay and an extra couple miles where I walk. It made me think about getting a car, or hitchhiking to see more.
The days after that first one were calm. I kicked around town, observed the goings-on that were part of Semana Santa (Holy Week). My hostel was right in the center of town so the preaching and music in the main square kept me awake until 4am a couple nights in a row. But Mamallena Hostal has a great community atmosphere so I stayed a few more nights.
One of the advertised things to do in Boquete is to hike up Volcan Baru. Typically, groups leave at 10:30pm to make the 6 hour trek uphill, watch the sunrise, and then trek back in about 4 hours. I like my sleep so I coordinated a group to leave at 4:30pm instead. I wrote a story about it in my journal so am not going to do so here. In summary, we got to the outdoor shelter and laid out our sleeping bags to sleep under the stars in the 40ish degree weather. I was glad to have my emergency blanket because I made full use of it inside my mummy sleeping bag! Because of the cold I only slept 90 minutes, huddled next to my friend Anna. It was a relief when 4am rolled around and we could get up and trek the last 45 minutes to the peak. I sat up there in my sleeping bag for a couple hours while we all visited, watched the sky lighten slowly, illuminating the mountains and volcano around us. There were 8 of us, from 4 different countries, and we entertained ourselves by playing the alphabet game. I love that all people are just people.
After some meditation, photo opps, and all-around good fun we headed back down the hill. The loose rocks and lack of sleep made the trek down a little less than delightful but we made it. At the entrance we paid our $5 park fee and called a taxi to bring us back to town. But when he got there he wanted to charge $4 per person instead of the official $2pp so out of principle everyone refused. The driver jumped into his car, refusing to negotiate, and peeled outta there. Now, only 5 minutes earlier we were all struggling to make it the short distance to the taxi, but suddenly, there we were, full of energy and walking 20km back to town. Luckily, after 40 minutes of walking we got picked up by a farm truck and rode a few k´s closer to town. But, alas, he had onions to pick up so he directed us to the corner where taxis are supposed to be.
None were there. So on we walked. In the sun. Down the winding road, knees aching. On and on.
20 minutes later the same farm truck turned up, loaded with sacks of onions, and motioned us to jump in. So we did, with just enough space to stand there. He drove us further than his actual destination in order to drop us only 2 or 3 km from town. So we walked some more.
It was a lovely adventure.
And I am distinctly aware that some of you reading this have a problem with me hitchhiking. I could have chosen to not share the story but I like sharing my life with you, the ways I am cultivating love within myself and with the friends around me. This is one of those ways. Please, let your criticism go.
My time in Boquete was grounding. Being in the rainforest, doing a difficult trek that my health could not afford a mere 2 years ago. It opened me up to life and freedom and happiness.
Last night I was in the lobby of the hostal transferring pictures from my camera. One of the reception workers walked in with a lady who is a relocation specialist in Panama. She commented on my hair, liking the short cut. Earlier that day I had the thought that it needs a trim and so I mentioned this to her. She flippantly said if she had scissors she could totally do it. I looked her dead on, asked her if that was true, she said Yes. I jumped up, asked the receptionist for a pair of scissors and was rewarded by her retrieving a pair from the desk. Think 5th grade scissors, plastic handle, small.
Out we went, into the night, and found a place under the streetlight to do a little trim. A lot of time was spent on the left side. My cowlick in back now stands on end. Its asymmetrical and unconventional. But I can´t really tell because there are not a lot of mirrors here.
It feels good.
Spontaneity.
Living.
Cultivating love all over the place.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Bocas del Torro, Panama
Life makes me smile.
I was all prepared to go to Punta Mona, an island off Costa Rica. I woke up in the morning with a fully planned itinerary for the day - my first time this whole trip. But when I looked outside something did not mesh. Yes it was rainy. Yes the town was becoming crowded due to the Semana Santa holiday week. Yes I was sick of closing myself off in order to block out Caribbean men. But none of those were the reasons my plans changed. And I cannot tell you exactly what happened, but I knew there would be something different in store for me.
I checked with the owner of what I thought was a communal living center and as it turned out NO other person besides the housekeeper would be on the island. I couldn´t handle it. Or probably I could have but I decided not to torture myself by going on an unintentional week-long hermitage. So somehow I found myself on the 8:30 bus to the border of Costa Rica, prepared to cross into Panama.
Throughout my whole trip people have questioned how I intended to stay in small Costa Rica for an entire 2 months and it never phased me. I owned it. But somehow I needed to do something different. So there I was, on the bus, with only a general idea of the town I was going to and how long it would take. No lodging, no guide book, no Panamanian currency (U.S. dollars, by the way!).
And I felt FREE.
I struck up a conversation with another traveler and we ended riding his coattails to Bocas del Torro, an island off the coast of Panama. It was quite entertaining to go through customs, which involved crossing a bridge by foot and then waiting in the sun for hours to get stamped. Plus I had to buy a bus ticket out of Panama that is useless - they make you do it to reassure them of your intention to leave.
I eventually made it to the island and wandered the streets with my new friend for a couple hours, carrying a 50-pound pack in the hot sun, in order to find a place to stay. We ended up finding a place on the water´s edge that had great common areas open to the sea. It turned into a 3-day vacation that was rather enjoyable. All meals were eaten seaside, I took a couple opportunities to dive off the hotel dock and the juice-bar dock and swim all willy-nilly straight out into the sea. Some Panamanian boys were geared up in snorkel masks to spear and kill the highly poisonous lion fish below the docks. Never one to miss an opportunity to play with the boys I asked to watch. They happily obliged and got me a mask. My ability to hold my breath for the duration of each individual spearing was meager compared to the killer, but it was quite an experience!!!
After a few days of uber-fresh tropical fruit - papayas, mangoes, coconut water, bananas, passion fruit - card games by the water and yoga on platforms overlooking the sea, I was ready to move on. My friend and I parted ways and I made it to my current town called Boquete. It is a delicious little town nestled in the mountains. I did not like the town initially, as is common when I first arrive somewhere, and was planning in advance when to leave. Every place I checked was booked and said there would be no rooms available in town, however, some girls heard me asking and recruited me to stay in their room because there was an extra bed. Nice!
I gave myself time to let the transition sink in, and permission to not need to have a plan, and another new opportunity popped up. I met 2 locals at the local food joint because I had questions on what to order from the buffet-like layout. One thing led to another and they gave me a tour of the town by motorcycle...hilarious! So now I love the place and plan to do some rainforest hiking or mountain biking while I am here, not to mention another bike trip Sunday at 9am.
Tonight there is a parade on the street where everyone gathers to watch for hours. It´s either Christian or Catholic, I can´t tell. All I know is there are huge church-y creations that look very heavy and throngs of people who follow them with loud, somber music blasting from speakers. It reminds me of Peru and makes me nostalgic for that particular trip with Sarah.
Hello Central America, I am here!
I was all prepared to go to Punta Mona, an island off Costa Rica. I woke up in the morning with a fully planned itinerary for the day - my first time this whole trip. But when I looked outside something did not mesh. Yes it was rainy. Yes the town was becoming crowded due to the Semana Santa holiday week. Yes I was sick of closing myself off in order to block out Caribbean men. But none of those were the reasons my plans changed. And I cannot tell you exactly what happened, but I knew there would be something different in store for me.
I checked with the owner of what I thought was a communal living center and as it turned out NO other person besides the housekeeper would be on the island. I couldn´t handle it. Or probably I could have but I decided not to torture myself by going on an unintentional week-long hermitage. So somehow I found myself on the 8:30 bus to the border of Costa Rica, prepared to cross into Panama.
Throughout my whole trip people have questioned how I intended to stay in small Costa Rica for an entire 2 months and it never phased me. I owned it. But somehow I needed to do something different. So there I was, on the bus, with only a general idea of the town I was going to and how long it would take. No lodging, no guide book, no Panamanian currency (U.S. dollars, by the way!).
And I felt FREE.
I struck up a conversation with another traveler and we ended riding his coattails to Bocas del Torro, an island off the coast of Panama. It was quite entertaining to go through customs, which involved crossing a bridge by foot and then waiting in the sun for hours to get stamped. Plus I had to buy a bus ticket out of Panama that is useless - they make you do it to reassure them of your intention to leave.
I eventually made it to the island and wandered the streets with my new friend for a couple hours, carrying a 50-pound pack in the hot sun, in order to find a place to stay. We ended up finding a place on the water´s edge that had great common areas open to the sea. It turned into a 3-day vacation that was rather enjoyable. All meals were eaten seaside, I took a couple opportunities to dive off the hotel dock and the juice-bar dock and swim all willy-nilly straight out into the sea. Some Panamanian boys were geared up in snorkel masks to spear and kill the highly poisonous lion fish below the docks. Never one to miss an opportunity to play with the boys I asked to watch. They happily obliged and got me a mask. My ability to hold my breath for the duration of each individual spearing was meager compared to the killer, but it was quite an experience!!!
After a few days of uber-fresh tropical fruit - papayas, mangoes, coconut water, bananas, passion fruit - card games by the water and yoga on platforms overlooking the sea, I was ready to move on. My friend and I parted ways and I made it to my current town called Boquete. It is a delicious little town nestled in the mountains. I did not like the town initially, as is common when I first arrive somewhere, and was planning in advance when to leave. Every place I checked was booked and said there would be no rooms available in town, however, some girls heard me asking and recruited me to stay in their room because there was an extra bed. Nice!
I gave myself time to let the transition sink in, and permission to not need to have a plan, and another new opportunity popped up. I met 2 locals at the local food joint because I had questions on what to order from the buffet-like layout. One thing led to another and they gave me a tour of the town by motorcycle...hilarious! So now I love the place and plan to do some rainforest hiking or mountain biking while I am here, not to mention another bike trip Sunday at 9am.
Tonight there is a parade on the street where everyone gathers to watch for hours. It´s either Christian or Catholic, I can´t tell. All I know is there are huge church-y creations that look very heavy and throngs of people who follow them with loud, somber music blasting from speakers. It reminds me of Peru and makes me nostalgic for that particular trip with Sarah.
Hello Central America, I am here!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Punta Mona, Costa Rica
Tomorrow I leave for an island off the Caribbean Coast. Punta Mona. It is a place of permaculture, sustainable and communal living. I am tiring of this hot sun and looking forward to go deeper into the rainforest. Be with more organic, down to earth people. As a friend said, not down to earth friendly but down to earth with the land.
I hear that the 3 week mark is a cornerstone for travelers. Either they get into the groove of things or they want to go home. Traveling in this developing country is not much of a hardship so I do not miss any of my usual amenities. However, the change of cities and people every few days leaves me feeling ungrounded, in a spot of internal unknowing. Smiles are a bit harder to come by and I feel guilty to not enjoy every moment.
So life when traveling is still life. Changing emotions and variable degrees of self-knowledge.
A special hello and hugs to family. My thoughts will be with you Easter weekend and for Henry and Asa's baptism.
I will not have internet access for the week I am on Punta Mona. A chance to be with my thoughts instead of checking in with others.
Sending Love!
I hear that the 3 week mark is a cornerstone for travelers. Either they get into the groove of things or they want to go home. Traveling in this developing country is not much of a hardship so I do not miss any of my usual amenities. However, the change of cities and people every few days leaves me feeling ungrounded, in a spot of internal unknowing. Smiles are a bit harder to come by and I feel guilty to not enjoy every moment.
So life when traveling is still life. Changing emotions and variable degrees of self-knowledge.
A special hello and hugs to family. My thoughts will be with you Easter weekend and for Henry and Asa's baptism.
I will not have internet access for the week I am on Punta Mona. A chance to be with my thoughts instead of checking in with others.
Sending Love!
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