#2838 that was strange

When I went to Costa Rica in October 2021, the main souvenirs I bought for myself were some bracelets. The bracelets were allegedly made, or blessed, by a shaman and the stones were chosen for the mystical properties they hold. The bracelets are pretty and they were pretty expensive, too. 

I bought three for myself. Choosing them was a combination of my choosing them and them sort of choosing me. I know that sounds absolutely bonkers, but it's kind of true. Each of them came with a description of their energy. One is a lucky rope bracelet. It is the most simple. It is meant to attract health and good fortune. Another bracelet has rose quartz and hematite and is meant to attract the energy of happiness. It's pretty. The rose quartz is a gorgeous pink stone. It is woven in a grey twine. I only had it on for a couple of months when I felt that I didn't need what it was giving me. The third bracelet promotes anti-aging energy. It is woven in black twine and has some cool stones in it including onyx, volcanic stone, and tiger eye. I have been wearing it on my left wrist since I got back, along with the rope bracelet.

Earlier this week, maybe yesterday, I felt that I should take off the black bracelet. I didn't take it off, but the thought persisted. Here's where shit gets weird. This morning, as I was getting ready to brush my teeth, I had the strongest, most persistent urge to remove the black bracelet. I could almost hear a voice in my head telling me to take it off. Remove it. It has to go. I immediately loosened the strings and started working the bracelet off my wrist. The whole time, my brain was yelling, "Take that off!" Was it my brain? I don't know, but I remember saying out loud, "I am! I am taking it off!" Finally, I worked the bracelet free and put it on the bathroom counter. My wrist immediately felt as if a great weight had been removed. The bracelet isn't heavy, but I felt free.

I picked the bracelet up and actually told it thank you, then put it with it's friend, the rose quartz bracelet, which still has not called for me to put it back on, by the way. 

Reading back over this story, I shake my head at the absurdity of it. I don't know that I could make it up. I'm not generally prone to that type of imagination. 

Anyway. That's all I've got today.

#2651 pura vida

Before I went to Costa Rica, I heard the phrase "pura vida". You know how when you look at anything online anymore you get more of that type of content on Facebook and other platforms, mostly in form of ads? You start looking at Costa Rica, and it won't be long before you see pura vida.

What is pura vida and what does it have to do with Costa Rica? Is it just a marketing thing that the department of tourism cooked up? Do people actually say it or is it just on t-shirts and bumper stickers and a bracelet company?

Literally translated, pura vida means "pure life".  I suppose you could say it's like the national motto. Similar to the multiple uses of the word "aloha" in Hawaii, when someone says "pura vida" to you in Costa Rica, it can mean "hello" or "good-bye" or "cheers" or "this is f-ing awesome!" or "that's how it goes". These two little words encompass pretty much everything.
 

People really do say it, too! When we first arrived, our driver greeted us with the words. Lizzie and I kind of laughed, because we had been talking about the phrase and whether we would hear it. I didn't know how to respond. Repeat the words? Say thank you? Just smile and move on? 

The right answer is to say it back. I remember that we were kind of tentative with it, but the driver heartily exclaimed, "Eso!" (kinda like "that's it! there you go!") when we said it back to him. It didn't take us long to get in the spirit, and pretty soon we were saying "pura vida" to everyone and smiling our faces off the whole time we were doing it. 

I haven't used the phrase for awhile, but while I was thinking about writing this post, and even now as I am writing, I am smiling. It's just so, well, pure!

Pura vida, friends!

#2634 some Costa Rica thoughts

Today I finished listening to a book called The Adventurer's Son by Roman Dial. A friend of mine recommended it to me when she found out I had just returned from Costa Rica. The connection is that the adventurer's son went on a wilderness adventure in Costa Rica. That truly is the extent of the connection. I certainly didn't do anything like the young man, or his father, did in the book. And I returned from Costa Rica safe and sound and happy for the experience. The adventurer's son did not return, and his father was far from happy when he went back home.

In the book, young Roman, an adventurer in his own right, goes on a trip through Mexico, down into Central America through Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua before getting to Costa Rica. Roman did not stay at fancy resort hotels, swim in the pool, and eat delicious chef-prepared food. He was literally bush-whacking through the rainforests, climbing volcanoes and having scary (in my mind) adventure travels. Once he got to Costa Rica, he went to the southern border near Panama with a plan to go through Corcovado National Park. The hitch is that a guide is required, and Roman was uninterested in having a guide and planned to do his hiking on the sly, on his own. 

The thing about that part of Costa Rica, though, is that since it is so untamed in many ways. There are some bad folks who go there to hide: drug dealers, illegal miners, and folks who don't want to be found. There are also many natural dangers, including poisonous snakes, big cats, heavy rains, and unpredictable terrain. 

The first half of the book details the elder Dial's adventures in nature, becoming a father, and the adventures that he then took with his family and with his son in particular. The second half of the book is about the son's adventures, told from emails to his parents and friends. When young Roman fails to email, call, or text is parents on his "out" date - the date he planned to be out from the hike he was doing - the father gets concerned and goes to Costa Rica to rescue his son. It turns into a two year search. 

As I was thinking about the book and about my own experiences in Costa Rica, there were a couple of memories that came to mind. Let me be clear: I never felt that I was in any danger while I was in Costa Rica. I stayed at beautiful, luxurious hotels. The excursions I went on were top-notch; the tour companies certainly did not want any harm to come to us while we were on their tour. Still, Costa Rica is a country known for it's bio-diversity, and there are wild animals there that can harm you. Lizzie and I both saw poisonous snakes, for example. We were in tourist areas and didn't have fear of people, but you always have to keep your wits about you, no matter where you travel, or even in your home city. 

All that being said, here are a couple of things that made me think WTF at the time. 

On our last full day in the country, Lizzie and I decided we would walk to the nearby town of Brasilito. It was just a 15 minutes stroll down the beach from our hotel on a well-travelled horse trail. We spoke with one of the women who was a hostess at the restaurant where we always had breakfast. We mentioned to her that we planned to go to Brasilito for lunch and that we were going to walk on the horse trail. We asked her if it was safe. She told us that she lives in Brasilito and that it was a nice little fishing village. She said the trail was safe as long as we went during the day. She said, "It is safe during the day, but everything changes at night." (That quote is a micro-memory that I wrote down.) I remember that both Lizzie and I talked about that sentence later, wondering what exactly changed at night. It kind of freaked me out, to be honest.  The trail was fine and we were back well before dark. No problems. 

The other thing that happened was when we went to the sloth "sanctuary" in Guanacaste. There is always a degree of faith and trust when you go on an excursion in a foreign country. Typically, the tour company will have a marked vehicle. In Costa Rica, the tour companies may have their name on the door of the vehicle and there will usually be a big yellow TURISMO sign somewhere on the vehicle as well. 

When we got picked up at the hotel for the sloth tour, the man who came to get us was driving what was probably his personal vehicle. There was no identifying stickers or anything. Also, the guy, Leo, wasn't wearing any item of clothing that said "sloth sanctuary" or anything like that. I remember that Lizzie and I looked at each other, silently asking each other if this was going to be okay. The weird feeling continued as we drove along. Leo didn't have much to say. I asked how long it would take to get to the place, to which he replied that it would be about 15 minutes. We were on the main road, then he turned right into what looked like a little neighborhood, then left onto a dirt road going up a mountain. As the mountain got steeper, there were no more houses, just forest. Leo finally stopped at an unmarked gate and honked the horn a few times. The gate was made of some type of fabric that you couldn't see through. A person peered out from between the gates and opened it. Leo drove on through, and up the road a little way to a small clearing where he parked the car. There were no buildings, no signs, and no other people. Leo told us there would be four other people on the sloth tour and that his co-worker had gone to get them and they would be there soon. In the meantime, he lead us to an area with a tarp over it where he said a man would be giving us a pottery demonstration. 

Within about ten minutes or so, the other people did arrive. The pottery demonstration was cool, we learned about the sanctuary and we saw a couple of sloths. Everything was fine, and we developed an appreciation for what Leo was working to accomplish there. On the ride back, we engaged in a very good conversation with him, and pointed out that he could have told us about what he was doing on the drive there. I know that both Lizzie and I would have felt a lot better about the whole situation if we knew what we were getting into to begin with. 

Between the hostess's comment about everything being different at night and the mystery and silence of Leo on the way to the sloth place, it was the stuff of a scary novel. 

The adventurer's son didn't do anything wrong. It seems like the very nature of the adventuring he was doing, and that his dad does, comes with inherent risks and dangers.  

Just be careful out there. 

#2625 "It's a flower, for God's sake!" (8/30)

It's time for a Costa Rica micro-memory!

Every day for breakfast in Costa Rica, we had fresh fruit. We always had watermelon and pineapple. There were other fruits, too, but watermelon and pineapple were served every day, both at the Kioro and at the Westin.  The pineapple was exceptionally good, sweet and ripe and delicious every time. 

The fact that we had pineapple every day was one of my micro-memories, and as I was reading through my list, this other pineapple-related memory came up, so I'll share it.

Our guide on the sloth tour in Guanacaste was Juan Carlos. He was a joyful, gregarious fellow who is passionate about his work at this sloth sanctuary and the re-forestation work that is being done there. Juan Carlos knows a lot about the flora and the fauna in the area and was eager to pass on his knowledge to us. He is also a bit theatrical, which made the tour even that much more fun.

As we were walking along the path, he pointed out a pineapple plant. Have you ever seen a pineapple plant? Here's a pic I took of a pineapple plant in Hawaii.

Juan Carlos stopped by the pineapple plant to tell us about it. He told us that the pineapple plant is a bromeliad.  Bromeliads do not produce fruit. They produce flowers.  The pineapple fruit is formed by dozens of flowers fusing together to form the pineapple, so therefore, the pineapple really a flower. He then kind of yelled, "It's a flower, for God's sake!"

Here's an interesting little article I found on the internet about the pineapple.

Whether it is a fruit or a flower, pineapple is dang tasty. 

#2621 something quick and something slow (4/30)

I did have a fun idea for the post today, but I had obligations tonight, and now it is my bedtime. I’ll hold on to my fun idea for another time, maybe next Thursday since it involves three things, or maybe Tuesday, since it involves travel.

Until tomorrow, then, I’ll leave you with this photo of a sloth I saw in Costa Rica.

#2619 travel Tuesday: Costa Rica micro-memory (2/30)

When Lizzie and I were in Costa Rica, there were at least a dozen little things that were fun and memorable that we couldn’t take a photo of but didn’t want to forget. We’d often say to each other, “I’m taking a picture in my mind,” and that evolved into what I called micro-memories. I noted these wee moments in the Notes app on my phone. We’d read through them on occasion and added to the list as things came up. I think it will be fun to share some throughout the month and hopefully expand on what made the “thing” something I want to remember.

The very first micro-memory that I wrote was on our first full day in-country. It reads: 

Howler monkey call when we first started exploring grounds at Kioro - Lizzie’s expression was priceless.

We had just check in at the Arenal Kioto Hotel. Our room wasn’t ready yet, so we decided to walk through the property to get familiar with our surroundings. Almost immediately, we heard a howler monkey call. Have you ever heard a howler monkey? The noise is kind of like a cross between a large dog’s bark and a monster’s growl. Fun fact: the howler monkey call is second loudest animal sound in Central America. (The blue whale is the loudest). Here is a YouTube video so you can hear for yourself.

Imagine yourself walking out into a beautiful, lush, tropical garden. There are blooming flowers everywhere, scenting the air with sweetness. Plants that only grow in pots in our houses are growing wild all around. Tall trees sway in the warm breeze. You hear that barking/growling sound. You can’t see the animal that is making the noise, but from the sound you’d think it was a big, ferocious monster, wouldn’t you?

Lizzie stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the sound. She looked over at me, her eyes wide, and asked, “What the fuck is that?” I have heard howler monkeys before, in Belize, so I knew what it was. 

Because Lizzie and I are fans of bringing things full circle, it’s not surprising that on our last day in Costa Rica, we heard a howler monkey call. We were in Guanacaste at the Westin, hanging out in the pool for a little while before we had to get on a plane. The monkey howl was nearby and loud. There was a man and two women sitting by the pool that morning. The man immediately got up and started walking toward the sound. Lizzie and I were in the pool, and we quickly got out to follow the sound, also. Remarkably, the monkey was in a tree right by our building and we could easily see it. Neither of us had our phone/camera (because we had been in the pool), so we had to take a picture in our mind of the wild creature we had heard throughout Costa Rica. 

The last micro-memory I wrote was this:

Lizzie’s face whenever we heard a howler monkey.

We heard a howler monkey close to the pool area this morning and actually saw it in the tree near our building!

It was kinda like the howler monkeys were greeting us at Arenal and bidding us farewell at Guanacaste. At least that’s how I like to think of it.

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#2617 memories of Costa Rica: Arenal

Lizzie and I spent three nights at a lovely hotel at the base of the Arenal volcano. I’ll talk more about the hotel in an upcoming post, because tonight I just want to talk about Arenal. It dominates the landscape. You can see it for miles. It is magnificent.

Every room at the Arenal Kioro hotel has a view of the volcano. We were in room 302, and I’m pretty sure we had absolutely the best full-on view. Of course I didn’t see the views from any other room, but I know that our view was spectacular. 

This is one of the first photos taken from the room. The cone, or the top of Arenal, is shrouded in clouds. Lizzie had been told we might not see the top of the volcano while we were there. It is the rainy/green season, and we did expect a lot of rain.

Imagine our delight when the cone made a wisp of an appearance in the afternoon which we were having lunch at the pool bar.

Over the next couple of days, Arenal went through various states of cloud cover, and some awesome clear views of the steam coming out of the cone.

This photo was taken in the afternoon from the pool area. Very clear and volcanic steam plainly visible.

This was taken the same afternoon as the photo above, but from our room

The photo was taken by our guide, Francisco, at the Místico Hanging Bridges Park. Of course, that’s Arenal in the background, and I also like the Costa Rican flag making an appearance over on the right.

The next photo is one of my favorites of the volcano. I took it from the window of the restaurant at the hotel. You can see that the sky is bright blue and clear. It’s actually the day we went to Místico Hanging Bridges. The morning was very clear, and then it got cloudy over the volcano, as you can see in the photo right above.

Can you see the face? Lizzie and I could see the face pretty much every day. I’ve looked closely at all my photos but the face shows up the most in this photo. Do you see it?

Maybe if you double click on the image, you will be able to see it more clearly. I know it’s kind of a stretch, but it kept us entertained and a little enchanted. 

Bottom line, it was thrilling  to be that close to the volcano. Every time we gazed at her (or is it him?) we saw it a bit differently and always, always, with awe and reverence. 

#2615 memories of Costa Rica: I pack too much stuff

October is said to be the rainiest of the rainy months during Costa Rica's green season. Most travel blogs I read recommended not planning a visit to visit the country in October. Lizzie and I made our peace with knowing we would be wet all the time and packed lots and lots of rain gear. All of our clothes were quick-dry materials. We had waterproof rain jackets, hats, and little travel umbrellas. We had long pants because rain and forest means bugs, so we wanted to be protected from bites, too. Bug protection also included bracelets, bug spray for me, and balm for Lizzie. 

Our reality was quite different from our expectations. We were NOT wet all the time from rain. We did get sweaty because it was humid. If I were to go back, I'd take fewer long pants. I was very glad to have them the two times I went into the rainforest. The other times we were out and about, I could have worn shorts and been comfortable with my bug spray. I used my rain jacket one time, walking from the hotel room to the car. By the time we got to the car, the rain had stopped, so I ended up just carrying my jacket. I used my hat nearly every day, not so much for rain protection as for sun protection.  I used the umbrella once. 

What I learned about myself, or re-learned about myself, is that I pack a lot of stuff, mostly items that I call "detritus'. Do you know what I mean? It's the little stuff from toiletries to mini-binoculars to pens and books, and just stuff! It's necessary, but there's just so much of it! All of it gets used and is necessary, but the detritus was a packing dilemma for me. 

My most favorite thing I took was a waterproof string bag that I bought on Amazon for less than $15. I took that bag out every day, used it on every tour, and for toting our stuff to the pool, too.

On the coffee tour while squeezing sugar cane

While gazing at La Fortuna waterfall

On the hanging bridges tour

Going to find sloths

I don't have a picture of the bag at the pool, so you'll just have to trust me on this one. 

Another thing to consider when packing is souvenir purchases. I didn't buy many bulky things, but I did come back with more stuff than I took. I hope that in the future, I will remember that lesson. As a general rule, I can almost always pack less stuff than I do. I usually stay at places that have a laundry service; I don't know why I don't take advantage of that fact and pack less clothing.  Even when I go visit my mom and sister, I tend to overpack. Gotta learn to pare it down and simplify. It's a constant learning process.

#2614 memories of Costa Rica: coffee

Today is the first day in over a week that I didn’t start the day with a cup of coffee. I’m kind of feeling it - that I missed something today. It is not something I expected. I have not considered myself to be a coffee drinker, although I do frequently go to Starbucks. I guess when I think of a coffee drinker, I think of my in-laws who drink black coffee all day, or people in my office who chug black coffee throughout the day. The coffee I get at Starbucks is flavored and sweet and in the form of lattes or Frappuccinos. My coffee intake isn’t as much about the coffee itself as it is the flavors that are added. I think I can count on one hand the times I have actually had a cup of coffee out of a coffee pot. It just wasn’t done.

However, I vowed to at least try coffee while I was in Costa Rica. After all, Costa Rica is known for its coffee. The first excursion we had planned was to visit a coffee farm for goodness sake! 

At breakfast the very first morning, I had my first cup of Costa Rican coffee. I wasn’t ready for straight coffee, though, so I added milk and sugar.

Coffee may be an acquired taste, because the first sip that morning was bitter. Lizzie disagreed and said it was very good. I drank about half the cup. It got a little better as I drank it, but I couldn’t finish it. 

That morning we traveled from San Jose to the La Fortuna area to our hotel at the base of the Arenal volcano. We had time to unpack our suitcases, then it was time to go on the tour of the coffee and chocolate farm. We visited North Fields farm. Our guide, Alberto, was knowledgeable and fun. He told us all about how coffee is harvested, processed, dried, and roasted. He did the same with chocolate, too, since this was a coffee and chocolate tour. 

After looking at the coffee and cacao trees, it was time for the main event: the tasting. We sampled chocolate first, which was fun and mostly delicious. After that, we moved to the coffee bar. Alberto ground some freshly roasted beans, a medium roast and a dark roast. He ground the beans right there in front of us and let us smell the freshly ground coffee. He told us about different pots for making coffee, and eventually used a traditional Costa Rican coffee maker called a chorreador.

internet photo

It is a simple contraption, as you can see. You put the coffee grounds in the filter - that white thing that’s hanging down. Hot water, not boiling, but just before that boiling point, is slowly poured over the grounds and the coffee then drips into the waiting cup. 

Alberto served us samples of the medium roast and the dark roast. There was only freshly brewed coffee in those cups. I stared down at the coffee, wondering if I would actually take a taste. There was no milk or sugar! Lizzie encouraged me to go ahead and take a sip. I started with the medium roast. It was a nutty brown color and smelled kind of nutty and slightly sweet. I took a tentative sip. So smooth! Not bitter in the least and a world away from the dark black, slick and slightly oily-looking coffee I’m used to seeing and smelling. 

The dark roast was good, a little more “cooked” tasting, if that makes sense. I had a couple of sips of it, but I preferred the medium roast by far. 

The next morning, and the next, and the next, etc., I always had coffee with my breakfast. I still prefer a coffee/milk combination, about half and half, with a packet of sugar. It was always good. By the end of the week, the first sip was no longer quite as bitter, and I was finishing the cup. 

Now that I’m back home, I have been to Starbucks a few times. The coffee drinks that I liked I find to be very sweet, probably masking the over-roasted beans. Honestly, my experiences with coffee in Costa Rica have made me re-think my Starbucks habit. I’m considering buying myself a coffee maker, and I have thought a lot about getting a chorreador. I’m still pondering, though, because I don’t want it to just be a vacation reaction. I know that I have a tendency to become a little obsessed with new things that I get interested in. Today I looked up coffee houses in SLC, and I think I’ll try out some places other than Starbucks to see if the Costa Rican coffee love carries over. 

Coffee adventures to be continued…

#2613 back from Costa Rica

 

Pura vida, friends! I am back from a week in Costa Rica, and let me just tell you, it was fantastic! The country is so beautiful and so full of life. Being there was nothing like I expected and everything I hoped it would be. I had prepared myself for being wet from constant rain. The reality was that although it did rain every day while we were in the Arenal area, the showers were mostly for a short period of time, then it was over. I hoped that my sister and I would have the opportunity to sit poolside, taking in the sun, and we absolutely were able to do that. I hoped that the excursions and transfers would be hassle-free, and they totally were. The only thing I spent any time worrying about was not walking too near or touching any trees because of snakes. (I was warned not to walk too near or touch any trees by the guides, so I wasn’t making that up!)

Lizzie wrote on her blog every day of our trip. If you want to read about our daily adventures, please check out  http://www.meetinggrace.com/ She is a fantastic writer and has posted lots of photos as well. 

Over the next several days, I’ll be reminiscing about the trip here, covering stuff like why I didn’t need to pack as much stuff as I did, food, hotel info, micro-memories, and other miscellaneous stuff. I’ll post photos too. To start with, the photo at the top of this post is me sitting pool-side at the Kioro Hotel at the base of Arenal volcano. That’s her over my shoulder, showing off all her gorgeousness. Seriously, that volcano is enormously photogenic. I’ll have to count how many photos of I have of her in various states of cloud cover. I remember rhetorically asking how many photos I actually needed of Arenal. One of our guides, Francisco, heard me and said, “Probably a thousand!” I don’t have a thousand, but there are a lot.

There is a question I’ve already been asked a few times, so I’ll just cover it right now. The question, of course, is “What was your favorite thing about Costa Rica?” Truly, I loved everything about the trip and my very most favorite thing about it was being with my sister. We had so much fun! I totally loved sharing the experiences with her. I did not get tired of being around her or ever wish that we could split up for a bit of alone time, which is pretty unusual for me because I like my space. As much as I like going places with MT, my sister is pretty much my ideal travel companion, probably because we are alike in so many ways. Plus, she’s just damn cool!