Monday, January 15, 2007

Western, urban centres saintmalo santmalo!

Reprinted without permission, an oddly poetic a bit of spam I received yesterday.

Western, urban centres saintmalo santmalo.
Crpes krampouezh wheat, dessert pastries.
Britain displaced saxon what became england settled this, present?
Linkcite articlein, last modified january text?
Townsedit, original britannica press reference saozneg identity brezhoneg office.
La baule belle gulf wilder exposed attracts airports.
Registered trademark wikimedia foundation inc, nonprofit celebossru.
Welshmen, paol brieg samzun whoever.
To the hylapex, web, hylafax.
Western, urban centres saintmalo santmalo.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Table Manners

I had lunch at a Thai place in the food court at the mall the other day. It was busy in there. I took my tray to a big table just in front of the Thai counter and sat down to eat. A moment later, a Chinese guy sat down next to me with his big metal bowl of noodle soup, and a few minutes after that, another Chinese guy and the woman who had served me at the Thai place also sat down with their lunches. They were all food court employees - the two guys were evidently from the Chinese place two stalls down.

I'm pretty good with chopsticks, but if you use them Western-style, they are not very efficient for picking up food that's way down there on your plate, and then brought all the way up to your mouth. It's hard to do this without dropping things, and it's definitely hard to eat in a hurry this way. So I kind of admired the way these three employees got right into it Asian-style: face down into the bowl, using the chopticks to essentially shovel the noodles into their mouths. They were going at it at top speed, chattering away in Chinese as they slurped.

Listening to them yammer and slurp, I though, why not? When in Rome, right? I bent my head over my styrofoam plate, grasped the side of it, lifted it a few inches off the tray, and began shovelling. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the Chinese guys. He had just a bare twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth. I carried on scarfing my noodles. The three carried on yakking.

Suddenly, a bit of peanut went down the wrong way and I started to sputter and choke. Tears came to my eyes. I guzzled some water. I was snorting and coughing. My Chinese tablemates seemed to fall silent. Finally, I got control of myself. I cleared my throat and put the plate down. As I did so, the Chinese guy caught my eye.

"You shouldn't eat so fast," he said. "You chould choke."

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Body count: birds


Find the hummingbird!
The diversity of bird species in Costa Rica is extraordinary. These are a few that I spotted.

Brown pelican
Frigatebird
Cattle egret
Green heron
Tri-colour heron
Little blue heron
Great egret
White ibis
Whistling duck
Turkey vulture
Black vulture
King vulture
Osprey
White hawk
Blackhawk
Caracara
Jacana
Whimbrel
Willet
Spotted sandpiper
Ground dove
Inca dove
White-tipped dove
Scarlet macaw
Smooth-billed ani
Groove-billed ani
Crested owl
Common pauraque
Orange-bellied trogon
Amazon kingfisher
Green kingfisher
Chestnut toucan
Lineated woodpecker
Streak-headed woodcreeper
Cinnamon becard
White-winged becard
Orange-collared manakin
Tropical kingbird
Boat-billed flycatcher
Streaked flycatcher
Social flycatcher
Great kiskadee
Yellowish flycatcher
Tody flycatcher
Mangrove swallow
Brown jay
House wren
Clay-coloured robin
Long-billed gnatwren
Bananaquit
Tennessee warbler
Mangrove warbler
Great-tailed grackle
Baltimore oriole
Redwinged blackbird
Blue-grey tanager
Cherrie tanager
Scarlet-rumped tanager
Summer tanager
Striped headed sparrow
Green hermit hummingbird
Violet sabrewing hummingbird
Green violetear hummingbird
Mangrove hummingbird
Rufous-tailed hummingbird

Body count: critters


This is a silky anteater, a rare wee fellow about the size of a softball. They live in the mangrove branches and rarely touch the ground.
Critters spotted in Costa Rica:
agouti
coati
iguana
jesus lizard
raccoon
variegated squirrel
tamandua anteater
silky anteater
squirrel monkey
capuchin monkey
spider monkey
howler monkey
two-toed sloth
three-toed sloth
tiger crab
tarantula
gecko
ghost bat
leaf-cutter ant

Alas, the tapir and kinkajou did elude us.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Costa Rica Diary, Part 3, Dec 16 2006


Three cheers for AC! I write to you now from a café in luscious downtown Quepos; that is, the dusty bit of street between the market and the bank. I now have a fully-functioning keyboard, even better.

So: back to Monteverde. It means Green Mountain, and that´s altogether apt. Monteverde is quite bustling these days, but sixty years ago it was just a green mountain among many in the cordillera of Guanacaste province. Then a couple of things happened: first, Costa Rica abolished its military, in 1948. Then, the US got involved in the Korean War and promptly established a draft. A couple of prominent American Quakers to refuse to serve and were sent off to jail, because that´s what liberty´s all about, man. In protest, 44 of their friends and family, Quakers all, left the States bound for somewhere they could worship, graze cows, make cheese and not have to get shot up in foreign countries. They wound up on the Green Mountain (somehow!) and after spending a few months in the tiny hamlet of Santa Elena, they trotted three kms over the hill and founded the village of Monteverde . They established roads, a school, a cheese factory, a farm economy, several nature preserves, and eventually, a big old tourist machine. Having lived up there quite peaceably and fruitfully for 50 years, the village they founded is now overrun with hotels, hikers, construction, dirt bikes, the works. Indeed, you´re more likely to wake up to the sound of chainsaws than roosters.

James and I spent a couple days there and I can´t tell you how beautiful it is. No matter where you walk, there is a gorgeous view (assuming it´s not a giant about-to-be-concrete-filled hole). We saw all sorts of birds and critters. But the most beautiful thing, strangely, is the weather. Monteverde and Santa Elena, although all of three kicls apart, sit in two totally separate weather systems. Down from the Pacific coast comes dryer, hot air, from the cordillera come cooler mountain breezes, and finally, sticky Caribbean air from the southeast. All of this converges on Monteverde to create the cloud forest – el bosque nuboso – where you have cloud all around: tiny floating motes that are in fact drops of moisture in the air, even when it´s sunny. It´s quite strange and lovely. And of course, it rains every three minutes. The roads are ridiculously muddy and pitted, and if the Quakers have their way, they will never be paved. (The Quaker community has actively resisted the paving of roads as one sure way to slow down tourism and construction. Yet somehow, the backhoes find their way up, up, up.)

In addition to visiting the ecological sanctuary, we took a tour of the community-owned cheese factory (they also make killer ice cream), and a really great tour of a family-run finca (farm estate) where they grow and process mainly sugar cane but also bananas, plantain, coffee and a few subsistence crops. Our guide was one of the family sons, maybe 23 years old, and it was really gratifying to see how much he cherished his life in the hills, with an obviously very close and loving family. Plus, this guy knows everything about everything, like how to find a tarantula, if you happen to want to see one, just like that. At the end of the tour, we made some Costa Rican fudge: you merely harvest the cane, haul it to the trapiche (the mill), yoke up the oxen, feed the cane in to be crushed and juiced, boil down the juice until you have thick gooey molasses, then plop it onto a board and stir the bejesus out of it until it starts to cool, when you can add nuts, coconut, fresh mint, or whatever you like. It was great. And the coffee was awesome too.

We left Monteverde on Sunday and took a private tourist minibus here to Quepos. We were the only folks on the bus, so it was quite a deluxe drive – even though the road down from Monteverde is as perilous as can be. It took us two hours of creeping down the mountains to get to a scrap of paving, a.k.a. the TransAmerican Highway. From there it was smooth sailing past the towns of Puntarenas and Jaco, and finally to Quepos. As mentioned yesterday, we have very nice accommodations here. We are in a condo/villa type hotel about 1 km outside Quepos proper, and perhaps 5 kms from Manuel Antonio National Park. We have been down into the park a few times. The beaches are fabulous, the trails well-marked, and the trees are filled with animals of all kinds. It´s worth paying 7 dollars to get in, just to avoid the hawkers and surfers on the public beaches. Marching around Manuel Antonio, we´ve seen spider monkeys, capuchin monkeys, and howler monkeys, sloths sleeping way up in the trees, cayman crocodiles, wee little agoutis that look like earless rabbits, snuffly, friendly coatis, and birds galore.

The other day we went on a canopy zipline tour in the hills around Tarrazu, which is also protected land. (Much of Costa Rica is: that´s something their government is really getting right.) So the drill is, you strap on all this gear (if you´re male, I gather it´s a bit hard on your "buddies", as the guides called them), and a helmet, and you climb up a platform at the top of a tree, where some youngster straps you to a zipline and gives you a shove. Off you go into the void, shrieking merrily and frightening the birds out of the trees, over a hundred feet or more of forest canopy, until you reach the next platform where some other youngster ropes you in and unhooks you. I´ll tell you, I got all sweaty and worked up on the bus going up into the hills and thought I might not be able to do it. But honestly, after the initial bloodcurdling terror, it was a total gas. We did 9 ziplines, 2 rappels (one was about 150 feet up!) and a Tarzan swing from one tree to the next. It was a hoot. Then we were fed a huge, delicious lunch which I ate as if I´d never seen food before.

Yesterday was largely do-nothing day, but today James and I really lucked out on a tour through a mangrove swamp. We got hooked up with an expat Canadian (from Scarborough), named Paul and Paulo, a naturalist who´s been running tours here for 16 years. There were just 5 of us out in the swamp: Paulo, his junior guy Jose, the boat driver Milo, and us. It was great: I almost ran out of ink writing down the names of all the bird species, never mind the crabs, bats, caymans, lizards, and anteaters. We spotted not one but two extremely rare silky anteaters, little golden furry guys who sleep way up in the treetops in the daytime. They look like tennis balls curled up around a branch. I got kudos for spotting another kind of anteater, also asleep in a tree. In fact, we´d seen one of these rooting around over the wall behind our villa the first night we arrived: a tamandua, also fairly rare.

We had a great time with Paul and Jose, so on Monday we are meeting them again, this time to visit a plantation where they grow vanilla, cinnamon, pepper, cacao and coffee, and go birding at dusk.

I have turned into the world´s biggest bird nerd, by the way. Birkenstocks with socks may well be in my future. And really large-framed glasses, and a shawl.

Love to all,

AO & JK, who has foresworn computers while on vacation. He´s STILL in the hammock!

Costa Rica Diary, Part 2, Dec 15 2006



Amigos y amigas!

And now, the exciting conclusion to "The Great Backpack Caper":

As you´ll recall, various promises, updates, and bulletins were flying back and forth between La Fortuna and points between, regarding the whereabouts of James´daypack. At last, we heard it would be sent from San Jose on the 1 o´clock bus. So we waited, and paced, and a small crowd grew (okay, they were really there to meet people on the bus..) and finally at 1:27 the bus rolled into town. People got down, and several got up. Mario the Bag-man and several of his mustachioed buddies yelled things at the driver, who then slapped his forehead and went around to the secret baggage compartment where he brought forth... The Bag!! But as he was under strict instructions from the bus company, he would not give it to James. Instead, he invited us to hop on the bus, which he then drove 200 metres around the corner to the depot, where a flurry of receipts issued forth. The depot man, with gusto, handed the bag to James. The bells pealed! The children sang! The rain started again! But it was okay, because James´raincoat was still in the bag. Indeed, the only missing items were his sunglasses, two chocolate bars, and a superhero comics anthology. Ergo, we deduced our thief was probably a misguided pothead who got out when things were looking hairy. Anyway, it was a day of triumph for the people of Costa Rica. Not to mention a ridiculous stroke of good luck for us.

We left the aptly-named La Fortuna that afternoon and traveled by jeebojee to Montverde. It was good fun: the first jeep leg took only 20 minutes, then we had an hour-long boat ride across Lake Arenal. The boat pitched us onto the muddy shores at Whoknowswhere. Ten or twelve of us then crammed into a small bus for two and a half hours of bumpy, careening joy through the lush mountains of Costa Verde. The hills are like multiple rows of crocodile teeth, and the so-called roads wind through, up, down and around without any straightaway longer than twenty yards. These are not paved roads. They are roads only in the sense that they are made of rock rather than tree. Good times! James couldn´t feel his legs after the first half-hour, but the views were gorgeous.

We arrived in the dark and found our hotel, a brand new place owned by an Italian guy named Renzo, whose true joy in life is riding mountain bikes up 70 degree inclines. Of which there are plenty in Monteverde: the driveway to the hotel, for example. His hotel has orthopedic mattresses, which we certainly appreciated after our many hours of "Costa Rican massage" on the bus.

I will write more about Monteverde in due course, but not on this computer; its keys are sticky with tropical goo. We spent a couple of great days there marching up and down the mountainside, and then decamped to Quepos last Sunday. Here we have a beautiful suite with kitchenette and pool and hammock and beach and good food and cheap beer etc. All mod cons.

That should explain why you haven´t heard from me in a while! We have decided to stay here until the 20th, and will be home on the 21st. Sometime before then I hope to visit a proper internet cafe to let you in on the details of what happens when you hook Allison up to a zipline suspended in the tropical canopy 100 feet above ground. Hint: there´s shrieking.

Love to all!

A&J (who´s been eaten by a hammock)

Costa Rica Diary, Part 1, Dec 8 2006


Hola muchachos y muchachas!

Greetings from La Fortuna, Costa Rica, home of the live volcano Arenal. Costa Rica, as you may know, sits on the Pacific Rim and has a number of volcanoes in various states of undress. Arenal was thought to be a sleeper until 1968, when it blew the hell up, wiped out a village, and reinvented itself asa Major Tourist Attraction. It´s actually quite cool to see: it looks exactly like, well, a volcano. A conical mountain with smoke coming out the top. James and I took a hike up the side of it yesterday but were unable to see any lava flow. She´s been quiet for a few weeks. Even so, the hike was fun (we went with a guided group). It was slow getting out the door, so we ended up coming down the mountain in the dark. It´s thick jungle, and as soon as the sun goes down, the jungle creatures awaken and begin their nightly competition of Who´s the Loudest? We were about to hand it to the Arenal National Chorus of Frogs, but then the howler monkeys started in. Guess why they call them howler monkeys? Yikes.

We have been here a few days and are heading out this afternoon. We plan to cross over the mountains to a place called Monteverde, strapped tightly to what´s known here as a "jeebojee". No, not a large hairy beast of burden, but a jeep-boat-jeep. You take the jeep to Lake Arenal, then a boat across the lake, then a jeep again on the other side, which bounces you down the mountain to the town of Monteverde. There are no paved roads there, just Quakers, who founded the town in the 1950s. They were American Quakers, conscientious objectors to the Korean War. How they picked this spot I don´t know, but they´ve made out of it coffee plantations, a town, a fabulous nature preserve in one of the main cloud forest areas. And a cheese factory! For where go Quakers, so goes cheese, as a great man never said. Anyhoo, being Quakers and all conscientious and stuff, they are trying to prevent the tourist trade form becoming too overblown by blocking the paving of roads. Good for them, I say. However, they may have kept out the large resorts and the busloads of Wisconsonians, but instead they suffer daily invasions of more determined jeebojee passengers, who are both hardy and filthy. As we will be this afternoon!

We arrived in Costa Rica on Monday night following a totally uneventful flight (thanks Beth!). We then took a taxi up to our hotel, the Hotel Aranjuez, where the motto is "Bleach It Again, Sam!" I like a little cleanliness, but our room was so intensely bleachy-bleached, almost formaldehyde-y, it smelled as if they were trying to hide something sinister. Other than that, a fine spot that puts on a huge, delicious breakfast in its lovely walled garden out back. Breakfast was the highlight of our stay in San José, which is... hmmm... not a very nice place. It´s a reluctant city with not much to commend it, unless you count competitive purse-snatching. Costa Rica is not a wealthy country and San José has evidently never been visited by an architect or any sort of urban planner, so you find things just sort of piled up in an unattractive heap. Most Costa Ricans (Ticos) are friendly, but the city itself has a pervasive, low-grade criminal vibe that makes you want to leave. So, we spent one day marching about: highlights included the Museo de Oro (the Gold Museum), which is dedicated to a pre-Columbian collection of huge granite spheres, three-legged grinding tables, and beautiful wee gold bats and jaguars, and the Mercado Central (central market), where you can buy a fridge, a tennis racket, or a recently severed cow´s head, each according to his need.

On Wednesday, we took the public bus here to La Fortuna. The Lonely Planet guide book advises this is a good, if slow, way of getting from A to B, provided you take care to keep an eye at all times on your stuff, as there are thieves about. This message was reiterated by the bus station security guard: Cuidado! You must watch your bag for thief! When we boarded the bus we were given a little handout explaining that thieves roam the buses and we should hang on for dear life to our belongings. Somehow, all these admonitions translated in our stupid gringo heads to "Put your daypacks in the overhead bin and fugeddaboutit!" Aye, dios! Needless to say, perhaps two hours into the trip as we rolled up to a restaurant-layby, the fellow in the seat behind us jumped up and began gesturing and shouting in Spanish, which I slowly interpreted as "Hey, that guy just walked off the bus with your bag!" So I ran off the bus, along with a number of Tico passengers and the dirver, and tried to find the guy, but he had disappeared lickety split. With James' daypack. There was nothing to be done, so we got back on the bus and carried on. Luckily there wasn´t anything of serious value or need in the pack, just J´s reading material´, his raincoat, and a few other sueful things. The pack was brand new, so that was annoying to say the least.

But wait! There´s more to this tale: about 45 minutes later, the bus driver got a call on his cellphone from the restaurant, telling him they had found the backpack. Apparently, the thief realized he was close to being caught and ditched the bag somewhere on the restaurant property. As far as we could make out, it was intact. And it was being sent on to La Fortuna! In addition to the bus driver, the guy behind us was helping us sort it out as we had no reservation in La Fortuna and he was a local resident. Then, when we arrived, a hotel tout got ahold of us, heard the story and said ¨Stay at my place and we´ll ship the bag there". This seemed a good idea, and the room was okay, so we agreed. The bag was coming on the next bus, due to arrive yesterday morning. No, it would come on the afternoon bus. But at the end of the day, Mario (the tout) made yet another phone call and discovered that the Bag had been forwarded on to Ciudad Quesado, a town about an hour and a half from La Fortuna. It would come on the next bus. No, the one after that. Before long, all the hotel owners, kids and dogs got involved in the Search for the Bag, and once every few hours we would get an update. The Bag could not be put on that bus, or the Bag was put on the bus, but the bus broke down. The bag was put on a bus that was robbed and had to return to wherever. Then we heard the Bag had been sent back to San José, where it was being held by the bus company. Yesterday, the Nicaraguan maid of the hotel tracked us down to tell us that, thanks to God, the Bag was coming on this morning´s bus fom San José and would arrive today at 1 pm. But later, Mario told us that the bus company was now concerned that so many people had heard about the bag that they were unwilling to deliver it into the hands of anyone showing up when the bus arrived. Therefore, when it would be delivered by the driver himself to the depot, in this case an auto-parts retailer up the street, and we would present our ID and get the bag back.

So, here we sit with bated breath. Will the bag arrive? Will it be hand-delivered by Nobel Laureate President Arias? Will the town put on a parade in its honour? And the fun part is, if a bag does arrive, we don´t know if it´s actually James´ bag, or someone else´s, or if there´s anything in it... In the final analysis, even if we don´t get the bag back, we´ve learned two important lessons: first, hang on to your stuff, seriously, and two, the Ticos, on the whole, are a lovely, extremely helpful and willing bunch.

That's it for now. We spend two days in Monteverde, then we are off to the beach.

xo Allison