Ahorra

Fue un día bastante agradable.

Driving South, Driving Rain

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

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

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

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

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

My friends, Ricardo, Nathalie and Adriano have arrived.

Primera Comunión

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.