Good MORNING, Bejuco!

It isn't always cloudy in the mornings, and yesterday was one of those perfectly blue, sparkling days with Costa Ricans (Ticos, as they are called here) grouped in large family bunches along the beach, grandmas on chairs under umbrellas, babies splashing chubby legs in the water, boys surfing and boogie boarding, and clusters of women, poking through the shells, strolling, always chattering and all enjoying this week of complete shut-down for a soul like me who needs a lawyer to issue me some legitimate documentation before ICE, the electric company, will put on my electricity. Don't MESS with the institutions like ICE! If you have a $4.00 invoice, PAY UP.

Batteries on my flashlight are running low, and I bought some more yesterday, thinking they looked big and fat enough, but alas, they are Cs, and I need Ds. There's the project for today. Life is rough down here...

Filled up the hummingbird feeder, but they seem to be onto me; nary a one has set its little beak into one of those fake red flowers! I wait and I watch.

Hammock is hung, car has been watered...

and chairs are out. I have boiled the sugar water for the hummingbirds to cool for tomorrow's feeding; every lil' critter here is happy, including my dog friend, Playa, who came over to visit and began to weep and whine with joy at my presence. Life is good despite no electricity which requires a visit to a lawyer's office, documentation, and another trip to the electric company to get it re-established... In the U.S. if we don't pay our water bill one month because $12.00 isn't really worth writing a check for, we just wait until the amount is big enough; nobody turns OFF the water! Here, if you miss two payments (approximately $4.00 a month when I'm not here), they shut down your entire account, and to open it up again, you must get all sorts of documentation. Then there is the "marciamo," which is due on your car every year by Dec. 31; depending on how much your car is worth, you can pay up $1,000 or $100. It's like mandatory insurance, but nobody pays taxes and cannot afford to pay for tickets, so the country is perpetually out of money. Much to my delight, however, the main road has been repaved, taking some of the "fun" out of driving but probably saving some serious wear and tear on my friend the Galloper.

The sky is partly overcast but has moments of sunshine. The temperature is sublimely warm, so I'm worrying about nothing and just letting my soul catch up to my body.

Thinking of going up to San Vito to visit some people who have recently built a house up there where the Italians first settled (go figure), but driving the dear Galloper up the "mountain of death" may be a challenge I defer; I'm going to see how far I get with my books and see whether I need a diversion. There are loads of fireworks at the beach on New Year's Eve if I can stay up that late, but another week without electricity may force me into the car and on the road...

This is really a dull entry for which I am sorry - a waste of my time AND yours!

The kids up the road...

I went to the local school in Bejuco at the top of our dirt road today to meet the teacher(s) and scope out my teaching possibilities. The kids who were there were to die for, but most kids just don't come to school in this rural, poor part of Costa Rica. Having seen the three rooms of the school, one a "kitchen and cafeteria," I drove to Parrita and spent $40 on supplies. They have very, very little, as you will see from the photos. But who could resist this smiler? Or this yummy little girl? Broken equipment is just stacked outside or on this hall; they had no PE today because the teacher didn't show up, and one of the teachers went to a conference so 4 classes didn't come to school. They teach two sets of kids, different groups in the morning and then in the afternoon. These photos are of children in Pre-school, ages 4,5 and 6. The older children are grouped together in the same classroom, as there are only two. There is one "special" room set up with a desk, a black board and a chair, intended for one "special needs" child who was not at school today. The younger teacher told me that her biggest problem is getting the parents involved; clearly education is not a top priority for the agrarian poor in this country - or the corruption is so bad that funds allocated

here are being swiped.

This is the "cafeteria," and the kitchen has two burners; the refrigerator looks a little worse for wear, and the table along the wall was so rickety that if any child sat at it, he or she would probably fall into it when it collapsed in his/her lap!

Tomorrow I will take in my version of Concentration, modeled after the song "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes," which they know in Spanish but will learn in English. I will see who comes to school, but I have DOWN the names of the four who were there today!

When I got back, I noticed that a dog had come bounding through the entrance to our community, running all the way to someone's pool where he immediately sat down and pondered life as he knows it. I raced to take his picture, and here was his response.Have I just taken ALL the joy out of his pool visit?

Back in the saddle

Yesterday's walk on the beach brought me to this exquisite combo of wood detritus; now, if it doesn't look like a couple in bed, I don't know what else to show you! See the woman's hair? Need I point out more? I love this image, and then there were the two people motorcycling through the waves - something I could not figure out; sometimes living things are much too unpredictable and confusing for me, which is probably why I love to paint sturdy stuff, a coconut, a pineapple or a pair of running shoes...

Today was mostly gray after a gorgeously sparkly morning for awhile after I ran, but then maybe that was just the way I FELT about the prospect of the day. When I saw the sunset in a warm golden glow that counted to my mind as pink, all I could think was, "Pink at night, sailors' delight." Tomorrow should be a smash hit!

I'm not just sitting here, doing nothing, you know. I am at the very least painting: this is Three Friends and Agua de Pipa.

And yesterday's work is Just One Bite...

Back to Basics...

So, I get down here and discover that my electricity has been turned off, my car doesn't start, and I have nothing for supper, the worst of ALL possibilities! My neighbor drove me the 20 some miles to Parrita where I went dashing into the ICE office at five minutes to 5:00, thoroughly expecting them to say, "Sorry, we're closing," but they were opened until 6 and promised to have the electricity back on tomorrow after I paid an outrageous sum of money for electricity that was used during June when I was in Malaysia; I figure it was from the broken hot water heater that ran for goodness knows how long before I realized I was burning up my laundry room! The heater is bust, and I'm not replacing it until after Christmas, if then. Who needs hot showers in a climate and an environment like this? Ask my prima!

This is what I love about being down here - no guilt! I don't feel I have to organize or clean up or DO! Instead, I run early, go to bed early and take photos with my zoom lens that really WORKS! I could never get close enough to these little birds, but with a 13X zoomer that sister Lisa urged me to get, look what I can photograph! Now, if only my hummingbirds would stay still enough for me to photograph them! And it seems the waves are much crisper and clearer in the photos than they were on my little camera from Kathmandu, which was MUCH more expensive than this little Fuji that Lisa and I bought in NY at this WONDERFUL place run by hassidic jews who are the most helpful, well informed folks ever; it has a name like H and B or something not terribly telling, and the place was mobbed on a summer Sunday in July - the best.

Here are some flowers from the communal garden back by the pool, and the white ones are a form of ginger; they smell rich and sweet like a gardenia or jasmine, but then there is a little whiff of ginger as well; I can catch the scent every time I go inside or outside because I have the flowers on a little table at the front door.

San Jose is going to perform Carmen at the National Theater, a gorgeous old building, and I'm going to risk driving up to the big, bad city to see/hear it. What a TREAT in July to go hear Carmen in a spanish-speaking country!

Frogs, Toads and the last day...

I have a new guest who seems to think the top corner of my front porch is THE place to hang out, and he's made himself as yellow as he possibly can in order to camoflage himself. It's rather sweet to have another friend living here with me. These are the kinds of invisible frogs that the guides show you under big leaves when you pay your $30 for an hour's tour to learn about lizards and to see spider webs and maybe a frog or two; forgive my cynicism.

Then, there was this poor little feller, flat out on the the little road that winds around our little community here. I wished I could help him, but he looked like a goner; I think he must participate - or have participated - in the great chorus that is the dark here. We have almost exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of dark everyday, which is a good thing for those of us who love to get up at the crack of dawn (5:15) and exercise, drink coffee and be productive and then hit the sack to read by 8:30. Life is so simple when it is warm and you don't even need hot water!

I think this may be the final version of The Beast for this visit; I will wait until July when I return and can putter with it. Paintings always look different after time and distance; actually, that's when I realize what a joke it is that I even TRY to paint, but I do seem to have a drive to do it, and it is pretty harmless, even if not quite as productive as quilting. It's certainly WAY less expensive!

Today I walked the opposite direction on the beach, crossing the brackish inlet where the water was up to my waist, rushing madly with contradictory currents pulling and tugging; then, I remembered that there are crocodiles in this inlet, so I really hauled ass! I walked along the beach on the other side where there were no houses, roads or paths. At one point, I noticed a man lounging up in the debris of logs and other things washed up on the high shore. I looked closer and realized he was naked, so I walked more quickly; he very politely waited for me to pass before he moseyed on down to the water for a little dip. I surmise there are more people living on the beach than I care to know about.

Finally, this is for all my Yoga friends, especially sister Lisa who is a whiz at it. I'm not sure what pose this would be considered, but it certainly looks like it would work your core and your quads, if not that high hamstring, about which I've been meaning to ask a neighbor here who has a little chiropractice right outside his house behind a straw-like screen. As I pass, I always smell the aromatic oils he must use on his patients. He's a surfer, his wife is a runner, so I figure they must know what they or doing. Either that or they are too young to have had any serious injuries!

The Beast

I am beginning a painting of my rickety but raucous Galloper, the car that has seen me up and down, in and out of ditches, roads, creeks AND the riteve. My friend Bill calls it "The Beast" and would like to drive it while I am back in Philadelphia; I am fearful because while he drives, I am responsible for any accidents or tickets or problems, and that makes me rethink leaving it with him.

I reworked this boat from a dreary day last summer during the rainy season, making the sand less pink, but still the boat is wrong, I know. I still kind of like it.

My friend Eva gave me a huge bottle of miel, as she had promised taking me to the spot where I could get it; I was so delighted when she pulled this large bottle of golden bliss from under her desk at the bank. She speaks no English, and my Spanish is limited, but we do seem to get along and read each other! In her honor and in honor of all the delicious, sweet joy of Costa Rica, I painted this one; I had already bought another bottle of honey, so I've put both in the painting, but hers is center stage. Hibiscus flowers are in the middle.

I ran out of canvasses right around the time I had to leave my car for two days with the mechanic who got it through the riteve by fixing it up so that it could pass. One morning I pulled out my water colors and tried to create a still life of sorts, but I was out of fruits or delicious things to paint, so I pulled three eggs out of the fridge, the frying pan and a bowl. There was a knife somewhere too, but it didn't seem to make it into this little sketch. I know the frying pan looks as though it's bleeding; I'll fix that...

Trying to prepare for my proposal for SVA's conference in the fall and hope to do something on my trip to Bangladesh but cannot seem to get it into 200 words; because the conference is around Denis Dutton's notion of the "Art Instinct," I listened to a 15 minute lecture of his on TedTalks. Who knew? Now I do, but I've got to work his notion into my reading of one banned Bangladesh author and two who write in English and don't even live in Bangladesh. Maybe there is an instinct to have an audience! I'm not happy with that and think more along the lines of the art of language so that I can look at texts and signage in Dhaka and wherever else my 10 days take me.

Car Passed Riteve and Beers

The Galloper beast was denied inspection yesterday but was returned to me this morning, overhauled and passing, for a mere $800. I cannot tell if this is a viable vehicle, but I do love driving the heap! I took this photo of my neighbor's alemandas and hope that the vines I have planted around my carport are the same; they have been there for almost a year and nary a flower has blossomed! Here's hoping for later in the summer!

The colibri have returned in full force, twittering and zipping around the feeder morning and night.

Because not much has happened while I've been waiting for the Galloper to come on home, I am going to address the local beer issue. Imperial is the local, practically national beer. The logo is excellent, and I've been drinking Imperial Silver, which the ex-pats around here call Tico Corona - light and lovely.

However, I ventured into the Nicaraguan beers and love Tona, which again is light and refreshing, not overly carbonated or hoppy.

BUT I stumbled across something called Rock Golden Monkey, and remembering Victory's Golden Monkey that made me fall asleep, I bought one to try. It tastes a little like cider, sweet, fruity and bubbly; it's peculiar to put it in the beer category, but it is a sugary treat. Today I drove into Jaco with my friends and bought one Tona and one GM; I already have plenty of Imperial Silver. For a "one and done" gal, I certainly am prepared!

Until 5:00, cheers!

Nicoya with Nani

I drove my Galloper over to Puntarenas yesterday, just making the 9:00 ferry to Naranjo from where we drove down to the southern rim of the peninsula on what I didn't realize was the worst, pitted, rocky, swervy, steep, dirt road EVER! We drove and drove, sister Nani patiently sitting shotgun and clinging to her seat as I inadvertently hurled her from side to side as I slammed through potholes, climbed and dropped over hills and valleys and veered right and left as I tried to steer away from any oncoming cars while trying to make time on our rushed tour of the peninsula. We were both starving and cranky, so as soon as we hit a paved road in Paquera, where the other ferry goes, we stopped to eat some lunch at a little soda/house that had several tables with table clothes that looked promising. The man of the house came out and talked to us about his fishing business, telling us he had fresh red snapper or shrimp rice. I took the "fresh" fish, and Nani opted for the shrimp rice. The fish was breaded and fried, tough and tasteless, but Nani's rice was yum, so I helped her out. She eats like a bird.

After lunch, we decided to drive as far as we could, thinking/hoping we could get up around Samara, but no such luck; we made it to Montezuma, again hitting the deep ruts, twisted turns, and pitted hills of the dirt road; however, once we arrived and scoped out all the dredlocked inhabitants, we were relieved to find Amor de Mer a few meters outside the main drag, and we got a room overlooking the sea. This was the first vista from the hotel.

I was a little grumpy and so went to lie in one of the many hammocks strung up among the trees and photographed this fellow who was mooching around in the rocks. After reading and sitting awhile, I found Nani, and we walked into town to check out the dinner options, passing on our way the tables of handmade jewelry and geegaws that hippies and surfers seem to sell to stay afloat.

This bus was plunked on the land in front of a restaurant and hotel and gives a little feel of the place. We bought a beer each and realized that it seemed to be the law of the land that one drank beer as one walked around; off came the lids, popped went my Nicaraguan latest favorite beer, and we wandered around, heading back toward the hotel. I knew when I tried to clamber over the rocks that I had drunk my beer way too fast. I slipped, crashed down into a rushing rivulet from the rushing tide, scratched up my knee but

found my way up to the big lawn of the hotel. It would have been better to have my picture here, but one of sister Nan with her open Corona speaks volumes. We settled into two uncomfortable chairs and watched this elegant heron for awhile, read, went upstairs and decided it was time for dinner. Probably I decided it was time for dinner because my druther is always before dark.

As we traipsed back down the dirt road to the town, we heard some dreadful sounds from the surrounding forests, and a family of Swedish blondes told us that it was the giant monkeys - we supposed the Howlers. The woman warned us not to get too close to them as they were likely to throw their shit at us if they got scared. We didn't have to worry as they never materialized, but I heard the howling again the next morning.

We rose at the crack of dawn, struggling to sleep through the torrential rains, cracking lightning and crashing thunder throughout the night. When we left in the morning, I snagged a quick shot of the lawn leading down to the water at the back of our hotel; this was our view from the room. It was a splendid little place, but I think it will be a long time until I return to Montezuma.

Rise n' Shine!

This morning was a walking morning at about 5:30, and the sun was just coming up, as I walked along the beach and then along the path in front of the beach houses. I ran into my friend Bob who was clearing out the shrub and old palm branches on the beach; we chatted about his orchids - one of which is the same as the one I brought back from my dad's tree in Florida. It bloomed for three years, but then just fizzled out; Bob showed me where I could find more of them and said he would snip a little segment for me so that I can try them down here where the climate is probably kinder and gentler for orchids. The walk up to the inlet was peaceful, the tide out so far that the water was still, reflecting the sunrise as though it were a mirror.

Nani and I just hung around all day after hanging out the laundry and discovering that the hot water heater had blown up in my laundry room. I mopped and tried to dry it all up, turned off the hot water and learned that fixing the damn thing would cost about $300. Ah, life in CR...

That Waterfall Again

We got lost as usual, but finally we walked through the cow pasture, through the creek and made it to the subdued falls; there has been little rainfall, so the the waterfall was more like a shower. We crawled up the rocks and swam in the first pool to cool off. For the first time ever,I made it back from the waterfall before dark, at which time we cracked a beer and began to plan the trip to the Nicoya for Monday.

Sister Nani does Costa Rica

Sipping first at the Britt Coffee Plantation, Nani joined the guides on stage for a tasting demonstration of their CR coffees; here she stirs and slurps, and she did it quite well, I might add.

We drove down from Belen to Bejuco, stopping at the Tarcoles bridge to check out the crocodiles, and it must have been nap time because they were all lying still at the top of the river, alert but motionless. They looked almost innocent.

Yesterday we drove down to Manuel Antonio and took a steep, sweaty hike through the park but saw no animals to speak of other than several agoutis. As we left, it began to rain, but we drove up and up and up to Ronny's, a little restaurant overlooking the sea and the mountains and the world, where we then drank the most magnificent sangrias. Right in the midst of our savoring the splendor of our hibiscus decorated drinks, we felt the whole place begin to shake. There was a small commotion among the few people in the open dining room, and after the tremors stopped, we realized that it had been an earthquake. I think it was Nani's first, but I had so enhanced my experience with my overly fruity and sweet sangria that I didn't really notice the earthquake - 5.9 on the richter scale.

This was the view once the sun worked its way through the clouds...

The Non-Tsunami: Relief and Disappointment

The anticipation and anxiety today were palpable, televisions blaring, people congregating in the street, and all comparing the latest updates on the time/strength of the tsunami to come. The footage of the earthquake in Japan was so fierce that I was frightened of possibilities I couldn't even fathom. I remembered the first time I felt a 6.5 quake here last summer, and I was SURE the sky was falling, to quote my old friend the hen - wasn't it a hen?

Oonie told me to go to "high ground," and the thing was "scheduled" for 4:00 PM, so I drove to a high cliff about 20 minutes from here to watch and to be safe, leaving all my windows open, computer running, and other such supid things. When I got there, the ocean was calm, the sun moving into that golden time, dripping into the foliage and turning banana leaves and grass a lime green; the sky was a dark blue-gray.

I watched a woman poking around in the rocks below and wanted to shout to her, but already the passengers in oncoming traffic were shouting as they passed, "Tsunami!" or "Here is comes!" I decided to leave her alone, but then the atmosphere became festive with more cars arriving, kids and dogs romping, and one fellow who owned a little hotel said that there were about 100 people down on the beach: surfers, waters, tourists. His son, at this point riding up on his shoulders, said, "No, it was only about 90 people." Suffice it to say, the beach was packed, and I began to feel less concerned.

When it started getting on for 5:00 most of us pulled out of the lot above the cliff and drove our separate ways, but the roads were crowded with people on bikes, clusters of people chatting and cars seeming to be in a hurry, as I was. It was time for my final Costa Rican cerveza until May. I will try to get that car up over the mountains tomorrow morning. I have had every orifice filled with fluids of one sort or another: break, steering, windshield washer, coolant and oil. The REAL thrill was the having the mechanic spray the "belts" so they wouldn't squeak! Who knew?

Another adventure tomorrow.