Playing with Ticos

I sit here in a small air conditioned - aka, a fan being on - room to train myself on grabbing a bit more of traditional responsibility.  You know, letting you know I am alive and well.  But my mind is floating, filled with Spanish, English, poetry and thoughts about where I am going next.  Both physically and emotionally.  And I am enjoying a coconut flavored sucker.  So here I am.

The past week here has been beautiful.  Hanging out at the hostel, visiting with the comers and goers.  I reclaimed my love of cooking after eating out for 5 days...by cooking beans and rice and chicken - the same thing I was eating out :)  But the difference is in being able to share it with my friends.  Over good conversation.  In Spanish.  Or using lengthy statements to properly capture the semantic meaning.

Sundays are my favorite.  The day when Ticos (Costa Ricans) take their families and a picnic basket and spend time outside.  At the park or the waterfall, or the place I went yesterday - the watering hole.  This place had a small waterfall with cold river water running through.  I walked there with my Argentinian friend just before noon.  Hanging from a large tree was a frazzled rope that has probably been there for ages.  My friend helped me ask the locals who were relaxing on the rocks where the safe place to land in the water hole was.  I did not want to go based on only a verbal description but luckily a 12 year old boy meandered down from the roadside to use it.  He went, Andres went, and then I felt brave about the space to land in.  So I grabbed the long stick set on the rocky cliff edge to pull the rope toward me, scrambled up the inclined rock to get some altitude and stood there.  Weighing my body and arm strength by pulling on it to see if I could hold myself just using my hands.  More people arrived and were chuckling.  The only white female - a Gringa...wearing a Betsey Johnson swimsuit...to try this activity amongst the local men and boys.  So I leaned back, counted to 3, felt my weight, counted to 3 again, and held on for the ride.  It swung wide, far far into the center of the watering hole - way high up - and once there had to simply release.  I crashed into the water, not gracefully, with a loud slap and earned myself a red hip from my landing.  But it was exhilarating!  So up I went, scaled the rock wall and returned.  I developed more grace, ease, distance, and twirling across the dozen times I went.  In between I would sun on the rocks or take off into a dive from the side of the waterfall from a slow run.  Communicated with the Ticos using gestures across the pond - them challenging, me accepting.  A delightful day!

Living in the moment can be so rewarding.  As we walked back the 2 km to the hostel, Andres and I talked.  I was looking for another word in Spanish for love other than Amor because it is unusual to say something like I love my food.  He gave me an idea what to say, noted that I am in love with myself, thus overflowing and causing me to love everything I get into.  Wisely said, when you are in conflict inside, everything is in conflict in your life.  Nothing is fun or happy or clear. 

So here I am.  Merging love with life.  Being seen.  Being silly.  Being zesty.  It is nice to see me.  This is the space where it starts.  I feel a need to learn a handicraft - to be able to gift others.  3 friends each made me a piece of jewelry.  A hemp bracelet tied tight on my left wrist with a beautiful bead and hematite stone from Kenya - grounding and lovely.  A copper ring wrapped around my right middle finger - strong and true.  A hand tied butterfly anklet residing on my right side - signifying change and emanating love.  I am glad to be here, cultivating love in Costa Rica where we are easy like the radio music on Sunday evening.

Tomorrow I go to San Jose.