from vancouver to san ramon

Many Lessons Remain Unlearned

2011-02-28T14:10:00.000-08:00

Well, as several of you (thanks) have reminded me, many days have passed since I last posted anything. I am not sure why but think it might have something to do with a reticence to assume there is any interest in following an ongoing narrative of what might, at first blush, seem a celebration of the mundane. However, I have discovered the recounting of events helps me gain a deeper understanding of the impact of trying to live in a foreign country without the help of anything but a rudimentary capacity to communicate. For instance, I am learning that language is jut one of many tools that help to build relations; gestures, pantomimes and well timed nods are vastly under rated. Difficult for a rather verbose guy like me.
Anyway, I will tell you in this post about the first of two incidents through which I invite you to make meaning about my rather strange life here.

The Traffic Ticket

After spending a great two days at Playa Carrillo with my buddy Davis who spent ten days here, I was feeling quite confident in my Costa Rican acculturation. After all, my Spanish is somewhat better than his and, my vast experience in dealing with the bureaucracy and cultural norms here is well documented in previous posts. Oh. how the self-deceived can fall. And usually do.
After a warmish three and a half hour drive, punctuated by the ubiquitous suicidal and homicidal driving of Tico motorists who always risk life and limb of themselves and anyone else imprudent and arrogant enough to use the highway as a form of transportation, we finally arrived in San Ramon. Driven by pride and an odd, yet persistent trait I have of demonstrating my acumen, I casually slowed down to make an illegal left turn in order to avoid the longer (7.5 minute) drive to the main intersection. After all, we locals always use the shortcut (it's kind of our way to self identify as vicenos in the barrio of Santaguita). As I was making my turn, we could hear several other motorists yelling something. The way my brain was (or wasn't) working I assumed it was part of a cultish welcome reserved for those of us who have been anointed as locals. Or maybe not.
Just as I made the turn, I was greeted, no not by the welcoming waves of my friends and neighbours, but by the commanding presence and beckoning arm of the Police who had set up a roadblock to reinforce the traffic laws. And reinforce them they did. None of my tried and true strategies had any impact on their resolve. Pathetic sniveling, whining "I am sorry, but I am a stupid Canadian who has no knowledge of the laws and had no idea a double yellow line preceded by a sign with the clear international icon signifying no left turn means no left turn. After a polite and professional examination of my license, passport and the papers from my rental vehicle, the officer, using a very cool hand held gadget printed out the ticket and informed me I had thirty days to contest the ticket.
Yeah, like that was going to happen. Unless utter imbecility is grounds for absolution, I had no chance. I was imagining the scene at the hearing. Bearing in mind, only last year, I spent two months responding to the question posed at the supermarket, "Algo mas?" which translates as "Anything else?" with "Si,si gracias, adios," and then walking away. So what kind of a defense for the indefensible could I offer? I am so Spanish challenged that when I am asked if I want anything else, I respond "Yes, yes, thank you, goodbye". In retrospect, it might have worked, but I am unsure as to whether or not my travel insurance would cover the requisite, ensuing medical examinations.
Upon an initial study of the ticket, I was pleased to let Davis know that $52 or so was not going to impoverish me, and I deserved it and blah, blah, blah. The next morning, I could not resist sharing my cute little misadventure with my friend Alfredo and his daughter Kattia. When I offhandedly apprised them of the amount of the fine, Kattia looked at me rather sceptically and asked if I was sure. She then told me that the government had recently enacted the harshest fines for traffic infractions in Latin America in an attempt to curb the carnage caused by the aforementioned Ticos, some of whom act out their machismo while behind the wheel, sort of a 21st Century dance of the toreadors.
What's in a comma or a decimal point, you might well ask. Ohh, about $500 or so, give or take a few dollars. Upon closer inspection and forty-two checks on the currency exchange program... well, let's just say the penalty was a bit steeper than I originally thought.
After Davis and I finally discovered I had to pay the fine, a fine set of adventures in itself, I, who had meticulously had the exact amount at the ready, was a bit bemused to learn (ah, it is all about the learning and, in this case, the earning), that a 30% sales tax was added to each traffic fine. I resisted the impulse to try to explain I wasn't really interested in buying anything and haplessly handed over the equivalent of at least a month's salary for the average Costa Rican professional.
At least, I played my role in keeping the roads safe!

My next posting will outline the thrilling journey I recently completed in getting my malfunctioning clothes washer repaired.
Algo mas?

2011

2011-01-30T06:32:00.000-08:00

After two weeks, events have settled to the point that an entry signaling this phase in our Costa Rican adventures is possible. Elizabeth and her daughter Ania arrived in San Ramon on December 31 to find the gate locked with an extra key and the house a bit of a disaster. With the help of our neighbors, Alfredo and Kattia, they were able to track down the key and enter the house. It was a mess! Having been unoccupied for 8 months, the walls, bedding, clothing and furniture in the three bedrooms were covered in mold. I thought I had left the place in safe hands, but, apparently not. They spent the better part of two weeks, scrubbing, washing and scrubbing. Not a great beginning.
When I arrived on January 15, the casa was shining. A few days later 2 Polish couples arrived: Kaz, the man who renovated Elizabeth's apartment, his wike Yolanta, and their friends Gregory and Irene. Seven people, constant activity and lots of conversation, most of which eluded me. And I thought it was difficult not understanding most of the Spanish I hear.
Last Wednesday, we drove to Samara, a Tico beach community on the southern tip of the Nicoya Peninsula. We spent two days and nights, marveling at the natural, unspoiled beauty, basking in the 32 degree temperatures, and waking up to the ferocious roars of the tiny Howler monkeys. On Friday morning, Elizabeth thought it would be a great idea to walk to the nearby beach and see the sunrise. In my wisdom, I opined that it might be better to take the car. Not really a good idea. Large 4x4, pitch dark, backing out of a narrow driveway into an even narrower gravel road with ditches deep enough to thwart even the power of the aforementioned 4x4.
After a half hour wait, a kindly young fellow on his way to work noticed my problem, attached a rope to my vehicle and freed me from my ignominious predicament.
We made it to the beach the second the sun rose.
Elizabeth and Ania arrived in Vancouver last night. I will miss them greatly. I am here until April 2, and undoubtedly will be able to share more humbling adventures with you. Enjoy the pictures of Samara.

OH, DARN

2010-04-16T13:18:00.000-07:00

Oh, well. And I was so looking forward to displaying my athletic prowess. Flying home tomorrow.

FRESH OFF THE PRESS!!

While some residents of San Ramón were anxious to host the first Pamplona style of running of the bulls in Costa Rica, others weren't so much, forcing an action of constitutionality and an order of the Ministerio de Salud to ensure public safety.

The running of the bulls was scheduled to start on Friday.

However, this morning, the ministra de Salud, María Luisa Ávila, notified the Festejos San Ramón 2010 that the bull run is off.

The ministra said her inspectors found that the bulls would be too close to the public which could result in injury.

Although the Festejos had co-ordinated the event with the Policía de Tránsito to close off the streets and had erected barricades to protect the public from the bulls, and the regulation that people could run only alongside and to the rear, but not the front of the bulls, the event will not take place.

The festival of San Fermin, or the Pamplona bull running as it's more commonly known outside Spain is a tradition that occurs in July every year, where thousands of people congregate in the square awaiting the mayor's official announcement that the fiestas have begun, a rocket is launched and the partying begins.

The Pamplona encierro is the most popular running of the bulls in Spain. .Injuries are common to the participants who may be gored or trampled.

Última lección

2010-04-14T16:27:00.000-07:00

Today was our last English language lesson until I return. Oh, sure, the class thinks it is all fun and games, but just wait until they see the exam in November!

Tough Teacher

2010-04-09T08:31:00.000-07:00

Even if a student in my English class has a broken arm, I insist on proper decorum during class. Have a question, raise that hand regardless of the discomfort. Or else, outside for a "time out".

Preparándose para correr con los toros

2010-04-03T14:35:00.001-07:00

The first thing one needs to run with the bulls is a look of authenticity. The bulls, much like toads before an earthquake, can sense when danger lurks.
I am, however, having a problem locating matador head ware!

But Before I Return Home......

2010-04-03T09:00:00.000-07:00

I am returning to Vancouver on April 17th. Today, the papers issued the following announcement:

Running Of The Bulls Pamplona Style Will Be Imitated In San Ramón

In the best tradition of Pamplona, Spain, the city of San Ramón, Alajuela, will have its own running of the bulls on April 16.

The city has been busy building organizing its own running of the bulls that will see the bulls run through some city streets instead of being confined in a bull ring.

The running of the bulls of San Ramón will start at 5pm on April 16 and for two weekends more to raise funds for a school and a colleged in the city.

Of course, many of the business owners of the La Sabana street, one of the streets that will be used in the run, are questioning the activity.

To ensure public safety, the city is erecting posts and fences to control contact between the bulls and bystanders.

The running of the bulls of San Ramón will not be like the savage fiestas of San Fermín in Spain where people run ahead of the raging bulls that has resulted in deaths, in the running of the bulls of San Ramón people will be allowed to run alongside and at the rear of the bulls, but not in front.

I am a little disappointed we will be unable to run in front of the bulls.

The Neighbourhood

2010-03-16T09:52:00.000-07:00

Time to post a few pictures that might provide a context for where we live in San Ramon. We are about a twenty minute walk from the centre of town (two kilometers closer to the Pacific coastal port of Puntarenas where the cruise ships dock.) Although, San Ramon is only fifty kilometers Northeast of Puntarenas, the drive takes at least an hour as the highway is only one lane each way and wends its way up and down and around sharp curves. As it used by trucks bringing goods to and from the port, on steep hills, traffic can be almost at a stand still as lines of semis strain to climb and descend.

On my walk back home from the mall, I took a few photos of our barrio (Santiaguita): our neighbourhood as it looks from the highway, a large field, a tiny corner store just down the road, and Super Pro, the bicycle fabrication plant, at the bottom of our hill.

Warm Weather Wings

2010-03-09T14:23:00.000-08:00

For the past three or four days, it has been unseasonably cool in San Ramon. The temperature reached a high of only 19 degrees, and for the first time, I had to don long pants. Interestingly, adult males in Costa Rica (and, I suspect, all Latin American countries) seldom, if ever, wear shorts. Such frivolous wear is consigned to adolescents and Norte Americanos. I refuse to make allowances for old age with its transformation of appendages to matchsticks. If a Straw Man I am, so be it.
Today, the weather turned for the better; the rising thermometer a harbinger for birds of all colour.

Differences

2010-02-27T06:13:00.000-08:00

From a home buzzing with the activity and energy that accompany Elizabeth and Ania: decorating, re-decorating; combing the country to find (or not to find) an out of the way vivero with just the right plants for our expanding garden spots; miles spent searching for muebles to furnish new living spaces; searching markets and aisles for oats, flax, chai, four colours of vegetables and fruits and the ever so important corvina or tilapia.
Mostly, just hanging out together and filling our home with family.
What a six weeks. Just like that, over. All work completed, no more sounds of saws or thrice daily trips to the ferreteria or lumber yards. Just fine tuning, following to do lists to prepare for this December when work commitments will no longer preclude both Elizabeth and I being here for five months.
I have posted a few photos of what used to be the laundry room and is now the TV room, our renovated patio and Elizabeth and Rosario whistling while they work.

A Few Road Trips

2010-02-13T05:59:00.000-08:00

Over the past little while, we embarked on a few sojourns: the rehabilitation zoo in La Garita and up to the soothing gardens and agua thermales at the foot of the Arenal Volcano.

House Progress

2010-02-06T05:57:00.000-08:00

Well, the renovations are drawing to a close (for now, at least, as Elizabeth manages to construct new lists of essential items on a daily basis). New paint (I will not really miss the pinkish hue with primer highlights that greeted us every time we entered the driveway), nor the dirt flavoured concrete that characterized the side walls. San Ramon is now firmly ensconced in the dry season with temperatures climbing to 27-28 daily. Thank goodness, the place is cool at night. A few days in the south reinforced that we are not creatures comfortable with plus 30 temperatures and high humidity.
Next week, we are off to the Arenal volcano area to luxuriate in the hot springs.

Manuel Antonio

2010-02-04T09:28:00.000-08:00

On, Tuesday, we made the three hour drive south down the Pacific Coast to stay in Quepos for the night and visit Manuel Antonio National Park. It is the second most popular Park in Costa Rica and features a variety of species of monkeys, birds, sloths, iguanas and lizards and three of the best beaches in the country. The weather was stiflingly hot, about 36 degrees.

Amigo por comida

2010-01-25T15:14:00.000-08:00

A friend dropped by for some of Elizabeth's healthy and tasty salad today.

Photo Update of Renovations

2010-01-24T10:43:00.000-08:00

Panama

2010-01-24T04:29:00.000-08:00

We just returned from a four day trip to Panama City. Upon arrival (six hours later than scheduled due to problems with the plane), we took a "taxi" from the airport to the Hotel on the canal. The forty minute drive provided us with all the adventure we needed. Our driver knew the city well enough to take side routes through the poorer areas at breakneck speed, all the time advising us to avoid this barrio, do not go through here at night, only interrupting his steady patter to honk impatiently at any driver ahead who had the audacity to stop at a red light or stop sign. The speed at which he drove was, more or less, the equivalent to that which was coursing through his system.
We arrived late in the evening, checked in and went to our room which overlooked the canal, literally a stone's throw away from our balcony. The views and sights were wonderful.
On our second day, we took a tour, (3 tourists, one guide and a driver) to an Embera village that was located in a National Park about a ninety minute drive followed by a forty minute boat journey up the Chagres river. The day was remarkable, as we caught a glimpse into the life of the Embera Indians, The tribe is around 15,000, inhabiting the Darien rainforest of Panama. The culture of the tribe was, in the past, defined by their relationship with the river basin far up river in the deep forest.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the peoples is their contribution to the making of modern day pharmaceuticals. With incredible botanical knowledge from living in the rainforest, their expertise has been unrivaled. We had the good fortune to be guided by the healer of the community to his medicinal garden located deeper in the forest from the village. He explained the medicinal properties of the various plants and flowers which are used to treat everything from prostate cancers, STD's, skin disorders, stomach ulcers.
Considered master artisans, the members of the tribe make beautiful baskets and woodcarvings. The Embera people also use woodcarving for everyday life such as making canoes, weapons, paddles, furniture, and so on. However, they now also carve tagua, which is called “vegetable ivory”. From this material, the Indians have made some of the most imaginative art you will ever see, inspired by the animals and plants found within the rainforest.
Taking the tagua, they sand it down and then use various types of lacquer or varnish to create sheen. The tagua is ivory colored with dark brown or gray skin. In addition, the Embera Indians can use natural extracts taken from the earth and plants to create vibrant colors, which are then used to dye the baskets.
There are four communities on the Chagres, each headed by a chief and council. They meet regularly to discuss common issues and concerns and do not adjourn without reaching consensus. The village has a school that the children attend until grade seven, after which they have to travel to attend secondary school. When living outside the village, they are always accompanied by a parent or elder whose role is to guard against the unhealthy excesses of outside life. Undoubtedly, this collision of cultures will pose tremendous challenges for a people striving to maintain its autonomy and uniqueness. The reliance on tourism as an economic asset brings with it all the threats inherent in the transformation of a culture into a commodity, a people whose struggle to maintain its independence is scaffolded by dependence.
The next post will provide an overview of Panama City as we travelled through its original site, walked through the old city and were dwarfed by the skyscrapers which now dominate its landscape as part of its insatiable quest for economic growth.

Renovations Update

2010-01-17T10:56:00.000-08:00

A few more pictures as the downstairs has been painted and is almost finished. Elizabeth and I are off to Panama City for four days tomorrow morning so should have some interesting stories and pictures to share. Today, we drove up to La Fortuna in search of plants alongside the highway. A successful trip!

More Photos

2010-01-09T08:48:00.000-08:00

We have posted a few more photos to provide a peek into our place: the newly decorated second bedroom, the bathroom and new shower in the casita, the steps leading to the upstairs study/bedroom and a glimpse of the view from the upstairs lounge.

Update on Casita Reno's

2010-01-06T08:47:00.000-08:00

As you know, the last five weeks have involved extensive development of the adjoining building behind the main house. Before work began, the casita was basically a concrete block, steel edifice with very rough concrete on the walls and most of the floors. It was not wired properly but did have plumbing and water. For the most part, it was a garbage and dust collector . The plan is to have, on the ground floor, a second bathroom and shower, move the laundry from the main house and construct a kitchen/bbq area adjoining the back patio. The upstairs will consist of a lounge room with view and another bedroom/study. Well. the work is almost complete and things look great. Over the next little while, I will post some pictures of the progress.

Zarcero and Beyond

2010-01-06T05:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, we took a drive into the mountains to Zarcero, a small, picturesque town noted for its organic vegetables, fruit and specialty cheese- Queso Palmito. However, Zarcero’s most popular attraction is its surreal topiary gardens. We were confronted by artist-landscaper Evangelisto Blanco’s latest inventions inspired, he says, from Celestial visions. Here we had opportunity to step through the looking glass to come upon shrubs and trees manifest as dancing animals, stylized creatures and other unique abstractions. Quite the sight.
We then took a drive further up the hills along winding roads and passed through horse and cattle country, surrounded on all sides by the greenery that is characteristic of CR.

Elizabeth Settles In

2010-01-04T10:28:00.000-08:00

It always takes a while to decompress once one arrives here. Inevitably, the slow pace and tranquil nature bring about a relative calmness, a welcome escape from the hurly-burly life of everyday work.

Elizabeth Arrives Home

2010-01-03T07:49:00.000-08:00

Elizabeth arrived safe and sound at 8:00 pm on January 1. Many thanks to mi hermano David for picking her up at 4:00 am and waiting at the airport with her to ensure that her two 33 kilo bags were cleared for take off.
It is impossible to imagine the number of pillows, pictures, sheets, gifts and everything else under the sun she is able to bring with her to improve the ambiance of our home here in San Ramon. I will try to keep a running photo account of the changes she is making while here. Most of all, her presence enriches.

Christmas Eve in Palmares

2009-12-27T11:20:00.000-08:00

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a Christmas Eve fiesta at the home of Lorene and Alonso to join in a celebration with their family and friends. And a great celebration it was. My neighbours and I decided to take a taxi($8.00) for the twenty-five minute drive to Palmares. Palmares, usually a sleepy place, comes alive for a week in mid-January when it hosts one of the largest Fiestas in Costa Rica. It is estimated that close to one million people (about 1/4 of the population of the country) visit the city for the celebrations of Costa Rica's cowboy heritage: rodeos, disco tents, fairgrounds, everything a celebration should have.
But, on Christmas Eve, it was quiet and peaceful. We arrived about 7:00 and ate, drank (moderately, of course) and danced (I did tap my foot, almost in rhythm, several times). A great time for all!
Elizabeth arrives on January 1 (finally) so I imagine future posts will be appropriate for the Home and Gardens Network.

Finca por Chicharrones

2009-12-21T05:30:00.000-08:00

A most interesting sojourn yesterday. I was invited by the family of Vicente, a neighbour to visit his wife's parents' farm in Guanacaste. Along with them, their daughter Jennifer and Santos, a young fellow who is working on the house across the street, we set off at 6:00 am for the two hour drive northwest. We arrived at the farm, located in a small village called Arizona. Warm greetings ensued from gracious hosts, children, chickens, cattle and a tethered pig. Soon after, Alonso and Lenora along with their two boys and Lenora's mother arrived to complete the gathering. After a filling breakfast of gallo pinto, huevos and tortillas, we toured the farm while Santos and Vicente's father-in-law began the preparation of the main meal: the tethered pig.
After a few hours, the pig became pork, all of which was expertly cut into ribs, loins... Water boiled outside, savory pieces deep fried and presto, chicharrones, a Costa Rican specialty. Along with salads, bread, yucca and rice, a mouth watering, somewhat artery hardening, meal.
It was amazing to be a part of a family experience in a setting I would probably never encounter without good neighbours. I feigned complete understanding of deep and meaningful conversations, drank a few beer, demonstrated the innate soccer skills of Canadians and even had the energy to photograph a high wire monkey act on the drive home.

Lecciones de Inglés Para los Vecinos

2009-12-03T04:54:00.000-08:00

Being in a location where it is vital to learn a new language is transformational. One must be patient, open and willing to err, over and over again, with strangers and neighbours. It is impossibile for me, in San Ramon, to rely upon glib responses, verbal adroitness and word play to define myself to others. Which tends to beg the question, without language who are we, or, for me, without the complex layers of spoken language how do I reveal who I am?
Actions and human connections become even more critical in this defining process: taking the time to acknowledge, helping the next door neighbour carry ceramic tiles, sweeping the road in front of the house..... Still, the imperative to engage in some sort of higher order dialogue is irresistible; so practice, fall, get up, practice....
Last night, I hosted the second in an ongoing series of English classes for any of the neighbours who could or cared to drop in. Lesson plans become somewhat superfluous as the level of the learners and the class varies from session to session. The common element is a desire to learn or improve language facility in a non-threatening, social environment.
As is always the case, the teacher learns at least as much as the students: for me, a real life refresher course in individual learning rates and styles and the importance of using each class as an opportunity to design more effective plans for next week. How teachers do this day after day floors me. At least for an hour or so a week, I get to chum around with others facing similar learning challenges.

A Work in Progress

2009-12-01T14:21:00.000-08:00

Quite the day (again). Ricardo left yesterday for a week in Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean Coast while I remained to oversee the beginning of the construction Elizabeth and I have planned for the second edifice on our lot. On the advice of Rosario, our house keeper, I hired Romaine, who has already completed several jobs for me (new shower heater, aluminum windows, shelving), and his partner Bryan. A great recommendation. We spent the morning at a variety of Ferreterias and supply shops. Bryan has several "ins" so we were able to get some excellent descuentes. Following the buying of materials, the men spent the rest of the day framing a downstairs room for a ceiling. Delivery trucks were arriving regularly bringing wood, plastico, soil for cement, electrical wiring and everything else necessary to complete phase one: a first floor kitchen/barbecue area and an upstairs lounge with sliding glass windows to see the mountain view. New flooring, walls.... Costs here are amazingly inexpensive compared to Vancouver (like most places in the world). The materials ran about $800 while the cost of labor is almost embarrassingly low.
The last delivery was a gallon of paint. Both Romaine and Bryan considered the cost prohibitive, so off went the truck with the paint: we will visit the store tomorrow to negotiate a fairer price. Just shows the importance of working with locals who know the market and insist on fair value. Despite the advice of those who warn about the dangers of being taken advantage of as Norte Americanos, we choose to place our trust in our neighbours and keep a positive perspective on the people who live and work here. So far so good!

Ahorra

2009-11-30T12:40:00.001-08:00

Fue un día bastante agradable.

Driving South, Driving Rain

2009-11-26T04:23:00.001-08:00

For the past few days, Ricardo and I enjoyed (for the most part) a road trip. What should have been a five hour drive to Frank and Irma's quinta in San Isidro De El General somehow stretched into eight hours, some of which was spent swimming in the warm surf of Playa Hermosa on the Pacific, some spent exploring a glorious secluded National Park nestled in the woods with a magnificent beach, but most spent trying to find a quinta hidden at the end of a rutted road during a torrential rainfall. I had visited San Isidro during my early days last year. I traveled by bus and as a passenger in the car of my friend Keith. We visited Frank and Irma's as guests at their Fiesta and, for some reason, detailed directions did not register in my befuddled brain due, I am sure, to the language differences. The place was very easy to find when I did not have to know or care how to locate it. This time it proved just a little more difficult to locate.
San Isidro is located in a valley, only approached by severe, winding, narrow sloped roads. By choosing the coastal route, we avoided driving through San Jose and chancing on our luck on the Highway of Death. However, we managed to miss the turn off at Dominical by 30 kilometers. As we backtracked, we were pulled over at an intersection by a roadblock and approached officiously by a police officer who looked like he just came out of casting for the movie, "If You Mess with Me, I Can Make Your Life Difficult." He signaled for me to pull over. Mistaking his universal gesture for the more common, "Come on over and have a friendly chat," gesture, I pulled up beside him and broke the ice by asking, "Perdon, Senor. Dondé está San Isidro, por favor?" As seems to happen so often to me, he rolled his eyes and pointed to a directional sign just in front of us. Mmm, an arrow pointing to the left beside a series of letters which spelled San Isidro. Logically assuming that I was too limited to be engaged in any nefarious activity, he fixed his stern gaze upon me and waved dismissively hoping to erase us from his consciousness.
After an hour and a half of driving up mud roads and making several phone calls using a variety of cell phones borrowed from bemused, but helpful locals, we finally made it just as darkness was descending. We were greeted, shown our guest quarters, complete with fridge, full bathroom and shower and treated to a great meal prepared by Sadie, her daughter and son who are employed by Frank and Irma to manage the farm. Being gracious guests, we brought along some libations which helped the conversation flow late into the evening (10:00pm). On Tuesday, we played the part of dude ranchers, milking the cows, feeding a calf by bottle and taking the freshly picked coffee to the road scales for weighing and recompense.
All in all a great diversion: I slept in the comfortable double bed in the guest casita both nights, while Dick tried to sleep in the hammock on the porch the first night and a single bed in the main house the second night. After two days of country life I was refreshed and ready for the five hour drive back to San Ramon; however, for some reason, Ricardo seemed a bit enervated.

The Road Most Travelled

2009-11-19T05:17:00.000-08:00

Another eventful few days (it does not take too much for a day to become eventful here in San Ramon). Monday saw the departure of Natalie and Adriano who jetted their way to Montreal to begin the final countdown to their new life in Townsville, Australia. With many adventures ahead of them, I hope they had an opportunity to recharge their batteries. It was a pleasure hosting and getting to know them as they were great company who added humour, mouth watering meals and unforgettabe companionship to Casa Canadiense.
Yesterday marked a watershed (or, more aptly, a water control event). Johnny, Ricardo and Alfredo put on their boots, rolled up their sleeves and constructed our new cement driveway. Work began at 7:00 and was finished by 3:30. During this time, existng concrete was demolished, forms were laid and cement mixed and poured. The result: a brand spanking new, properly graded driveway which eliminates any semblance of an open drainage ditch and guarantees that surface water will wend its way down the curves and run into the culvert rather than the carport and provides just the right angles for a smooth entrance and exit. Another amazing example of neighbourhood cooperation and ingenuity.
In the evening, Ricardo and I walked downtown where we sat ourselves in front of a TV, had a few beers, a huge meal and watched with the locals the inevitable exit of Costa Rica from World Cup qualification at the hands of the Uruguayans. Oh, well, there is always 2014.

Grandes noticias para el Club de Basura

2009-11-11T03:25:00.000-08:00

Those of you (Dave, Scott and Steve) who understand the importance surrounding the twice weekly pick up off garbage in our neighborhood will appreciate the significance of this posting. Since our road has been paved, the Basurero arrive on our street at 5 am each Wednesday and Saturday. Garbage cans are not part of the Basura culture so bags of refuse must be left on the street for collection as speed is an integral aspect of the morning rounds. As there are dogs roaming the streets, this early pick up poses some serious logistical problems. Dare one leave the bags overnight, risking strewn coffee grounds, fruit rinds and the like as a consequence of canine foraging, or does one, like most have opted in to do, awaken early to greet the truck with bags in arms aplenty? A genuine neighbourhood conundrum. With the artistic imagination of Ricardo, this seemingly unresolvable dilemma has been solved: By using the Mutlti-Versatile Zap Line and Hook Hung on the Carport Gate Bar Technique®, the garbage is placed on the hook at a mathematically determined height (taking into account the maximum vertical drop due to weight and atmospheric conditions) the evening before without fear of it becoming food for Lobo and Rover.
I awoke early this morning (4:45 am) to ensure that the invention had been calibrated precisely with the correct physics to hold the weight of the bag weight overnight to receive the Basurer Municipilidad seal and nod of approval.
With bated breath, I counted the minutes, then seconds; the truck descended the hill, paused in front of the house; the Basurero jumped like an Olympic gymnast off the back of the truck, lifted the bags off the hook, and, in response to my anxious query, "¿Está Bien", nodded, "Si, Senor". An extra hours sleep each Wednesday and Saturday.
We have World Copyrighted for Free Use this technological advance in the sincere hope that it will improve the sleep patterns of each of our vicenos.

North to South with a Cup of Coffee

2009-11-09T17:06:00.000-08:00

It has been a busy few days; Saturday, a three hour drive Southwest to Quepos on the Pacific where I left Adriano and Natalie in a pleasant hotel (Villa Romantica) where they will spend four days enjoying Manuel Antonio National Park and playing on the Pacific beaches. On the return journey, I was pulled over by a member of the Policia Transito who pointed to his radar gun to prove, beyond a doubt, that I was exceeding the speed limit by a fair bit. Using my adept facial muscles and fractured Spanish, I managed to convince him it was a miracle that I was even able to operate a car and should be forgiven any transgression as I was, by no means, capable of any sort of crime with malice aforethought. He kindly proffered, " I will do you right, Senor", and waved me on my way while I obsequiously repeated, " Gracias, muchas gracias, Senor", barely resisting the overpowering impulse to kiss his feet.
Today, Ricardo and I visited a nearby Coffee Plantation where we were guided by a wise young woman and plied with a variety of blends. The Plantation is part of a large cooperative, certified as fair trade and based upon Green Practice. We then walked into San Ramon where we managed to locate, through the help of several locals, the only remaining large sized straw hat for Ricardo to don in order to prevent sun stroke.
At this point, the purchase seems a tad optimistic as we have been beset by tropical rains as a result of Hurricane Ida which has left 140 dead by mudslides in El Salvador.

Hola de San Ramon

2009-11-07T04:03:00.000-08:00

Mi nombre es Dick from Mission B.C.
En Costa Rica me llamo Ricardo.
I am visiting Greg here for a few weeks and am very grateful for his hospitality. I am one who needs a touch-stone when dropped into a different world but am quick to adjust and I am feeling much more comfortable sooner than I would have been without his friendly guidance. Greg shows enthusiasm and confidence in his southern home. We share a desire to learn Spanish and are coaxing each other along. Soon, I hope, we can arrange for a tutor or lessons here so that our learning becomes more efficient and idiomatically correct. We each have been studying the language now for about two years and this experience here in San Ramon is already beginning to foster improvement. We wandered around the university yesterday looking for any information regarding lessons. In that I have resolved not to be timid but to jump right into opportunities for conversation; this leads to some humbling moments. However, all advice is to blurt it out and this is the program 'para me'.
There have been some huge rain storms these last few days, attributed to a hurricane somewhere nearby I'm told. This morning, Nov.7th looks clearer and the emerging sun reminds me of the need for a new sombero. That is my purpose for today, to shop for a straw hat and harass the natives. Hasta luego, Ricardo

Tres Amigos

2009-11-07T03:29:00.000-08:00

My friends, Ricardo, Nathalie and Adriano have arrived.

Primera Comunión

2009-11-01T06:48:00.000-08:00

Quite the series of events yesterday. Seven a.m. signaled the arrival of Romaine and the window men. No, not a local band but tradespeople who replaced our front windows and installed aluminum frames. Wood does not hold up forever in this climate because of the downpours during the rainy season. Four installers, two and a half hours later, brand new, weather proof windows at a cost of $275. I am not sure what the price would be in Vancouver, but I suspect a tad more.
Ten o'clock chimed and the Cathedral in San Ramon centro was the scene of Jennifer's (along with countless others') First Communion. Standing room only as proud family members and friends gathered for what is an extremely important rite de passage here, as in most Latin American countries. The event was more festive than I recall decades ago in Vancouver. Video cameras documenting, cameras clicking, children chatting and those about to receive the Sacrament for the first time sitting as patiently as they could, often gently reminded to pay attention by an adult seated in each of their aisles.
About ninety percent of Costa Ricans are nominally Roman Catholic. Although, San Ramon has a fairly modest population of 45000, three large churches adorn the landscape; the main Cathedral and two auxiliary churches in other cantons. I was told that the ten o'clock service was the second of three on Saturday alone.
Unlike the case in many other Latin American countries, my observations and readings lead me to believe that Costa Rica is relatively secular in nature. Although the physical landscape is replete with Churches, and the Cathedral delineates the centre of a city, the dominance does not extend into the life blood of the country. Costa Rica was never conquered by the Spanish as there was only a very small indigenous population. The Spanish just kind of moved in slowly as seventeen families from Spain divided up the land and began their enterprises. There has been no internal dispute for power between the church and the political arm of the state. Without a large impoverished population, the church has evolved into occupying much more social than political space. By Latin American standards, Costa Rica is a middle class country, an economic reality which shapes the relationship between the average Tico and the Church
Yesterday's festivities had much more the energy of an awards' assembly at an elementary school than that which often characterizes the first receiving of the Sacrament. I really enjoyed it and was grateful for the invitation.
I then went to small, family gathering at the home of Jennifer's family where two more people asked if they could attend our informal English conversation group, went home and watched the evening sky emerge.

Stupid is a Universal Term/An Invitation

2009-10-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

Another day filled with the unexpected (unless you know me well and are aware of my insurmountable shortcomings with the world of objects of all variety). The other day, Rosario, our house watcher, convinced me to buy a microwave friendly, handy-dandy rice, vegetable and pasta steamer. With mounting excitement, I made the short journey to the Maxi-Bodega, a subsidiary of Wal-Mart (who else) without the bedecked greeters. Fate was on my side, as I was able to track down the last one. My heart pounding with eagerness, I made it back home, to test its usefulness. Not really a great idea, in retrospect. I scrupulously followed all of the instructions (except one, as it turned out). Measured out the correct amounts of rice (one cup), added water (one and a half cups), snapped the locks, set the microonde por nueve minutos and watched the container revolve, transfixed by the culinary wonder of it all.
When the microwave beeped its readiness, my joy was palpable, but the inevitable doubts crept in: What if it is overcooked? OMG, undercooked? Unable to quell my lack of confidence, I decided to take just a little peek. Oh, the instruction I neglected to absorb was "Under no circumstance, lift the lid before five minutes have elapsed." Gently unlocking and opening the lid, I was greeted, not with the savory aroma of perfect rice, but with an incredible searing pain which burnt through my being as the boiling steam met the exposed flesh of my hand. Charred flesh, not the result I had intended. Apparently, five seconds does not allow for the insides of the infernal contraption to cool. Who would have guessed?
As it turns out, I was quite lucky; the pain subsided, the blisters arrived and there was only minor degree damage to two of my fingers. As Elizabeth (who understands only too well my ineptitude and is puzzled as to what helpful spirits have allowed me to remain alive despite my stupidity and incompetence with all things) offered, "It could have been a lot worse. What if you had put your face nearer to have a closer view and a nice smell?"
Alfredo, my friend and neighbor brought over an aloe vera plant from his medicinal garden, and the digits are healing nicely.
Now, as a glass half full kind of person, I was able to utilize this event during last night's first lesson in English to two of the neighbours, Nadir, a twenty year old young man who is attending college and his sister Jennifer, who is in grade three. While demonstrating the simple present, past and future, I used my crumbling body in examples.
I had a broken toe (wine barrel, losing grip, foot- (not my fault; who can withstand the immutable laws of physics).
I had a severed finger (sharp knife, tomato, losing focus; how does one quell a creative, wandering mind).
I have two, very sore fingers.
I will have another injury (fate is not to be denied).

When I asked them if they wanted some slices of pineapple, they reacted in animated unison, "No gracias, Senor Gregory!" Jennifer then presented me with a lovely invitation to her First Communion this Saturday at the Cathedral. The ceremony will be followed by a lunch at their house. I am pondering whether or not to carve her a nice Maple Leaf out of local wood for a present.

Back in San Ramon

2009-10-27T11:14:00.000-07:00

It has been a while, but I arrived back in San Ramon, late Saturday evening. Upon entering our home, I was taken by how familiar everything was. The next day, I began to see the changes in our neighborhood: the paved road, a new sidewalk, advancing construction on the former shack across the street, a garden of corn and beans where there was one an untended field of long grass. No more dust and dirt filling the air and coating the driveway every time a vehicle passed. Our small plants in the back patio now filling once bare spaces with verdant growth after thriving for months.
Despite the changes, the people remain constant: since my arrival, neighbours have delivered meals (mmm, too thin, I think), invited me for walks and reinforced that my Spanish classes have not prepared me for any complex communication; I understand quite a bit more than during my last visit but still struggle to express myself. Poco a poco, patience and persistence.
I have attached a few pictures of the road, the field and Johnny, master builder who is transforming the shack across the road to a new three bedroom, two bathroom home with hot and cold water and a big backyard (yours for only 30 000 US). Trust me, an investment like that will provide more comfort and excitement than a new SUV.