FINAL CHAPTER OF COSTA RICA ADVENTURE 2013

Hens and Chicks in the school garden...

Well it's hard to believe that my month in Costa Rica has already been and gone, but this last week at home went by in a flurry of the usual delightful distractions, hence no time to write my final post of this series.

I am missing the school a lot, and the deep immersion in  Spanish, and although I have been watching Spanish TV, and reading a couple of Spanish books, it is not quite the same thing.   I read my first complete book in Spanish before I came home, a truly delightful children's book called "COCOR´I", which has been translated into many languages, written by a Tico author, and very well written .   Now I am reading a book by another Tico author by the name of Carmen Lyra, and I was drawn into it right from the first page.   In fact, my time in Costa Rica opened my eyes to the wealth of Latin American literature, and to the history of that region, and both my professors gave me some excellent reading lists.

I am not missing my noisy lodgings, nor the ants running over the kitchen table where we ate, nor my "bidet in a bottle", nor am I missing the "anarquía automovilistica", but I am missing the immersion in another culture.   When I crept into my own clean, big bed last Saturday night though,  I was literally moaning with pleasure and gratitude, and on Sunday morning  I was able to wash my hair with plenty of hot water AND plenty of water pressure, and not take for ever doing so.   Such simple pleasures, but so important to our daily well-being.   I think I have come away from my month-long experience having learned a lot of Spanish, and also having brushed up on my gratitude and appreciation for all the blessings in my life, not least of which is my good health and high energy, for without good health everything else is pretty meaningless.   Mind you, I think the exhaustion has been catching up with me this past week because I have taken a siesta every afternoon!

You will recall the various incidences of crime I mentioned in one of my blogs?   Well, I received a posting from my neighborhood association informing me of a very similar assault which took place in Bellaire.   It was 10 p.m. and a man was jumped by two guys on the corner of Newcastle and Oleander, knocked to the ground and beaten up pretty badly.   The amazing thing is that there were other people around walking their dogs no more than 50 to 100 yards away.   He had a pretty lively reaction to being attacked from behind, so the end result was that his cell phone was shattered and he had to have a few stitches at the ER, but it could have been a lot worse.   I'm telling you all this just to illustrate that "tout le monde est un pays", and these things happen everywhere.   We are fortunate that we do not have to live behind bars as most people do in San Jose.

My last week at school went very well, despite the fact that Eduardo was no longer my teacher.   I had another professor, Irán, also a wonderful teacher, and here follows his photograph.

We had some wonderful, philosophical conversations, and enjoyed each other's company.   Both my class-mates had left, so I ended up with what amounted to private lessons for the last week, which was a terrific bonus.   So now I have to consolidate all I learned, and expose myself to Spanish daily so that I do not lose what I learned.

My last week was also made really enjoyable by the arrival of my darling friend Chetana, also living in Houston.

Chetana

Last Tuesday I went out with Chetana and her new friends Andrea and Jenna, to a bar/cafe near the school and we drank wine.   What a pleasant change!  My one and only social event during the whole month!    I still arrived back home by 7 p.m. though, as I did not like being out on the streets after dark, and I needed my daily dose of carbs!

 Susan and Chetana in the school garden area

Jenna (from Washington DC), Susan, Andrea (from Switzerland) and Chetana (from Nepal and Houston) in the school garden having lunch

And here are photos of the two pets in Mamma Rita's house, Nino the dog, and the pajarito in a cage, both of whom became my friends.

 Nino

 Pajarito

I close with a close-up of the bark of a tree.   The colors are amazing, like an abstract painting.

Thank you all for sticking with me on my Costa Rican adventure.   I appreciated all comments and emails I received from you, and they certainly helped me get through the inevitable moments of loneliness.   I would do it again in a heart-beat, and in fact hope to return very soon, on two conditions, which I made clear to the school:  I want Eduardo as my teacher, and I have to live in different accommodation!   I would like to return to CR to have a vacation there and see the incredible nature, go zip-lining, and see the beautiful coastline, and our winter is the time to go:  anytime between December and May, when there is little to no rain and warm but not hot temperatures.   So that is my plan, unless I end up going to Myanmar instead, the possibility of which has just come to my attention!   The adventures "out there" are endless, and it is up to US to go out and enjoy them!   I encourage all of you to venture outside your comfort zone, even in a small way, and experience the thrill of being truly alive.   Try painting your toes purple or cobalt blue instead of pink or coral, and you'll be surprised at the frisson that gives you.

And on this note, I end with one of my all-time favorite quotations, sending you all love, blessings and many adventures.

Thank you.

Susan

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, to discover that I had not lived.   I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary.   I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”

Walden - Henry David Thoreau

 4th August, 2013
...and the saga is drawing to a close...

More beautiful tropical plants to enjoy.   I'm afraid I don't know their names though.

Last week was basically the same as the previous two weeks:  eat, sleep, study...

If you remember, I had a blissful night of uninterrupted sleep a week ago while the family was off celebrating a birthday.   Well, I paid for that night of peace on Monday.

I arrived home at 5 p.m. after my usual 25 minute walk, ready for some quiet work before the evening meal, and retired to my room.   Then the noise started.   The boyfriend of the 20-yr old (Mother of the 3-month old) was visiting and they were having a merry old time making jig-jig before her Mother returned home from work.   When their physical exertions were finished, they then started moving furniture around, scraping the floor every time.   Remember, my ceiling is their floor.   There is zero insulation.   Meanwhile, the 8-yr old nephew and 10-yr old niece were visiting, and

having a fine old quarrel while chasing each other
around the house screaming at one another.   Naturally, the TV was on full-blast the whole time.   Then the rest of the large family visited; dinner was very late, and yipty-do, we were served KFC (which I did NOT eat), and this whole circus went on until 10.30 p.m.   I must confess that I lost it at that point and I slammed two doors very, very loudly.   There was instant hush, and a lot of whispering, and then the house quietened down for the night.   I guess I had made my point, and without saying a word!   Apparently, Costa Ricans will go out of their way to avoid confrontation, so the next day it was as though nothing had happened.   The ensuing evenings and nights have been much quieter though, so it was all worth it, and there is no bad blood at all.   It was just a Clash of Civilizations!  

And then there was Tuesday.   Well, at least I am here to tell the tale.   I was walking home again after school, at the usual time, minding my own business, when just as I was a few yards from the big roundabout, six pistol shots rang out, coming from just where I had been walking.   Everyone stopped in their tracks, including me, wondering if they were gunshots or fireworks.   I asked a bystander what he thought and he said at once "una pistola".   What to do?   I was very tempted to throw myself on the sidewalk, but as you can imagine, that in itself was a hazard, as well as being full of trash.   So, true Brit that I am, I kept on walking, with heart pounding, and legs that had turned to jelly.   I have never been so close to gun-fire, and smelled it, and it would have been so easy to have been hit by a random shot.   I briefly fantasized about how it would feel to be shot, and what would happen to me in that event.   These events happen so rapidly that one can never be prepared for them for they are out of our control.

The place where the shooting took place was outside a prosperous-looking high-rise condominium, next to a very large private, walled and gated private residence.   Who knows who the intended victim was, but the police cars started arriving in full force, and so did the ambulances.   Vainly I searched on the TV that night for news of the shooting, but to no avail.

Well,  I thought, that certainly validated all the warnings on the State Department website about Costa Rica, which until that point I had considered vastly exaggerated.  After all I was living in Rome when the Red Brigades were in full swing, committing acts of violence, murder and kidnapping every day (remember the capture and subsequent murder of the politician Aldo Moro?), and the picture painted of Italy by the press at that time was a dark and dangerous one.   The only thing that I saw during that whole period was a parked car outside the Palace of Justice, with a man hanging out of it, shot to death.   Other than that, life went on as usual, and that is the case here too.   Life is dangerous everywhere, and it could be a drunken driver ploughing into us rather than a bullet, but if we stopped to think that way all the time, we would never leave our houses.   And even that may not be safe if there is an earthquake!   Better to go out and grasp life by the horns and wrestle with it rather than cower in a corner afraid to do anything.   If your number is up, it's up, and there's nothing you can do about it!   I'm not advocating foolishness, but I am advocating living life to the fullest, and not letting oneself get sucked into a routine of bored and comfortable survival.   It is common knowledge that we are at our most alive when we are facing possible death.   Perhaps we all need to recalibrate our priorities on a regular basis, and to fully understand that "being" is so much more important than "having".   Apropos of which, I highly recommend Erich Fromm's small book entitled "To Have or To Be".   I don't know if that is the English or American title.

However, after that event I learned of other similar incidents.   My teacher, Eduardo, told me in class that twice he had been held up at pistol-point and robbed of his money.   He is such a laid-back and pleasant man though that he was able to barter with his assailants on both occasions, so they took his money but he kept his documents!   And talking with my two student house companions yesterday, they told me that a male friend of theirs from university had been robbed by a man with a gun, and he was foolishly carrying $250 on him at the time.    They also told me that a girlfriend of theirs was raped one evening recently.   The girl was in a bar, drinking with strangers, presumably got tipsy, and left the bar with a local, who raped her behind the bushes in the park.   ALL of these events are highlighted in the State Department website with videos and graphic warnings.   This would certainly explain why all the properties look like bunkers here.   Here's a picture of the outside of the house where I am living, wearing my uniform of blue jeans and old black sweater.   Gone are any pretensions of fashion or glamor.   My room is too dark to see to put make-up on, as is my bathroom, and wearing nice clothes would be a bad idea because then one would look prosperous, and likely be held up....

Casa Rodriguez

I return home next Saturday, so have only one more week.   Unfortunately, Eduardo will no longer be my teacher because he has been committed by the school to giving lessons to people from the World Bank, who come to the school three times a year for language and local politics, and that is right up Eduardo's alley, for he is very political.   So, who knows who my teacher will be.   And my previous class-mates left already so I shall either have new ones or be alone.   Most of the students are at the beginners' level.   I've completed all the grammar, and am at the Advanced level, stage one, so now it is just a question of speeding up the thought process so that I can choose the correct tense for the verbs, and decide in a split second if this sentence needs a direct object or an indirect object!   The logic of the language is not hard to learn, but at my age, it is the retention that is a challenge, so constant conversation is essential in order to speed up the mechanism in my brain.   I shall be very happy to spend next Saturday night in my own bed though, ojala!   And I can hardly wait to go shopping at Whole Foods!   I have started reading a book of short stories by a Costa Rican author,  Carlos Salazar Herrera, and they are absolutely charming, and very poignant.

But all in all, it has been a wonderful trip, I have learned a lot of Spanish, I have re-learned the simple things of life, and I have been even more aware than before of the importance of gratitude.   I am grateful for my life in Houston, and also grateful to Mamma Rita and to this house and culture for teaching me to be patient (not that I always succeed though), and through lack, showing me the plenty.   I certainly plan to return to this school, though hope to find another home-stay that is quieter.

I did not do any travel outside of San Juan this time, but really the weather does not make that an appealing option, added to which it is always more fun to explore with a companion.   Unfortunately I didn't make any new friends at the school because they were mostly teeny-boppers from universities all over the world who clung to each other in their little cliques, and there was only a smattering of older people, none of whom I got to know.   I am very thrilled though that to-day my darling friend Chetana is arriving from Houston, so when I go to school to-morrow at 9 a.m. I shall be able to greet her as she emerges from her 8 a.m. orientation hour.   I can hardly wait to see someone I love and to give and receive a heartfelt hug.

I will write again next weekend.   In the meantime I end this blog with a few more general photographs.

 I shall miss the profusion of tropical fruits and beautiful papayas such as these

 Another beautiful, and ubiquitous flowering tropical plant

These are photographs of two watercolors in the lobby of the school, depicting typical Costa Rican country buildings, and note also the wooden cart with wooden wheels, used to-day and usually covered in very colorful painted images.   Note also the towering high hills in the background, for they are visible on all sides from the town of San José.   San José and the other main towns of the country in effect sit on a high mesa, or plateau, that runs down the middle of the country and drops off precipitously to sea level at the two coasts.   It makes for some very scenic landscapes.

Que dios los acompañe!

Part II of July 28th, 2013

A summary of last week's events.
This gorgeous flower to the right, an iris, a lily?   I am not sure, but I have never seen one in this brilliant shade of orange.   Nicely offset by my turquoise toes!   There are several of these growing in the little park (parque chiquitico!) between home and the school.

I walked to and from school several times last week, braving the big roundabout fearlessly!   The trick is to cross with total bravura while giving a hard sideways stare at oncoming traffic, preferably with a Tico pout on my mouth.   It's worked so far anyway!   However, I was going to start off this bit of the blog with a quote from T.S. Eliot (The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock):

"I grow old, I grow old.   I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled"...The reason for this somber thought is that TWICE last week a very handsome young Tico man gave me his seat on the bus!!   Talk about a moment of truth!

My demeanor is that of a very chaste Muslim woman:  I walk the streets with my eyes glued to the ground, and I wash my feet at any chance I get.   It is too dangerous to lift your eyes from the street.

I had noticed on various occasions a group of men laughing raucously outside this building boasting the sign above, but never stopped to look.   When I passed one day and there was no one there, I stopped to read the sign:
"Welcome men and women, to the Institute of Masculinity and Sexuality".   I was so mesmerized reading the sign and wondering what on earth went on in there that I inadvertently stepped into the following sidewalk hazard...

I didn't come to any harm, because I am light on my feet, but it proved my point that distractions are dangerous.   I mean, this is a land of male chauvinists!   Are they going to this institute to learn how NOT to be so chauvinistic?   Mamma Rita is telling me all the time what chauvinists the Tico men are.

In fact it seems that men here love babies, and procreating them, but are not too keen to marry.   The grand-daughter in this house has a 3-month old baby by a young student and he comes by to visit his child once a week, but there is no talk of marriage.   And Mamma Rita's niece, who lives in the duplex part of the house, has an 8-year old son by a man who never married her.   This leads me to believe that there must be a lot of illegitimate children in Costa Rica.

There is a supermarket relatively close to our house, on the main street where I catch the bus, here below

 You'll notice that its name is MAS POR MENOS, which translates to "More For Less".   I thought that sounded familiar, and one time when I was inside with mamma Rita I saw a policeman there, fully armed, and with a US flag on his arm.   I enquired about this and was told that the store belongs to US citizens.   Then the penny dropped:  this is WALMART in Latin America.   They just changed the name of the store to the slogan that they use in the USA.   I wondered why everything was so cheap and unhealthy in the store...We bought some bread there that looked like regular French bread, but when I ate a piece of it toasted for breakfast the other day, the whole thing crumbled to dust in my mouth.   It's as though the bread had been made with air and very little else.   There is a nice little supermarket near to the school though that I go to and usually they are playing classical music, which I love.   They also have good quality goods for sale.   There was a man there on Friday with a display of wines, doing a tasting, so I got chatting to him (in Spanish, of course!) and it turns out he was from Georgia (the country), and the wines on display were all from Georgia, being touted as the oldest wines in the world.   I tried the white and it had a very strong, full-bodied taste which took me aback at first, but then I really liked it.   All the bottles cost over $20 though, so I didn't buy any, and I wished him luck because that is expensive in this country.   Unfortunately, there are no vineyards at all in Costa Rica, but plenty of wines in the store from Chile and Argentina.

 Another sidewalk hazard

      ...and another

and they're all on my daily commute.   I explored a few other places too on my walk home, just malls and shops, all filled with plentiful cheap goods, many of which are made in China, and the sort of things one would find in any developing, rather poor country.   

I have settled into the routine at my house, and the sleeping situation is improving, mostly thanks to the ear-plugs I brought with me.   Last night I had a real gift though:  everyone was out of the house for the night except Mamma Rita and me!   Usually the room above me sounds as though the disbanded Costa Rican army is up there, but last night there was perfect silence and peace.   What a difference a good night's sleep can make.

And here's Mamma Rita decorating a cake she had made to take to a big birthday party.   I won't comment on the ingredients...

Here's a picture of the plumbing in my bathroom.   I'm getting the hang of it finally.   It's the kind of set up whereby you turn on a shower normally as we would back in the US, and the water gushes out plentifully, but very cold, so then you have to crank it back and back until it warms up, so by the time it is nice and toasty, basically there is just a trickle coming out of the shower head.   It makes hair-washing a lengthy procedure.

NB only cold water at the sink, and the bin for tp, and the cocacola bottle for washing.   I sure don't intend being the person who blocks up the drains here...Who needs  anything more anyway...!   My bedroom is so small I can't really photograph it so you'll have to just imagine an 8ft square room painted bright blue with a 3ft bed in it and there you have it!

And here I am in the classroom with Eduardo having another fabulous lesson.   We have now moved on to the advanced grammar book.   After this its literature and articles.   I am enjoying my lessons so very much, and learning an awful lot.   I must confess to being pretty exhausted though after a minimum of 6 hours of classes a day, and often 7 when there is an additional conversation class.  Rolando has moved on from our class, which is just as well, and now we have Alex, (same as the previous week), and Jessie, a great young woman from Bahamas.   She fits into the class very well and teaches Spanish back home.  She is very lively, and we have "bonded".

I went to just one of the dance classes last week, and it was great fun and EXTREMELY vigorous!   I kept up though, but a few of the young kids didn't.   The local CR dance is very fast and very athletic, and a lot of fun to watch.   Yes, I said "watch"...!

So this week we'll be wandering the maze of the subjunctive verb form and its more complex uses, always a challenge in any language.   But to my delight I learned that there is a rule for learning the past and present subjunctive, and that makes things a lot less haphazard.   So, "ojala" this week will bring new challenges and new achievements.   "Ojala" is a fascinating linguistic term.   It means "God willing", and comes DIRECTLY from the Arabic "Insha'allah".   Now THAT is a really close connection between the two languages.   I think that is one of the reasons I am enjoying these classes so much, because I am recognizing the influence of Arabic on Spanish, and Eduardo, being a philologist, knows and loves words too.

I close this episode with a quote which I find peculiarly appropriate to my present situation:

INSIGHT

from the

Dalai Lama

“The development of a kind heart (a feeling of closeness for all human beings) does not involve the religiosity we normally associate with conventional religious practice.   It is not only for people who believe in religion, but is for everyone regardless of race, religion, or political affiliation.   It is for anyone who considers him or herself, above all, a member of the human family and who sees things from this larger and longer perspective.”

Sunday, 28th July, 2013 - 5th Posting   

No idea what this plant is, but it is fascinating!   It grows in the school gardens, and demonstrates nature at her most ingenious.   Each little hemisphere forms a basin which catches any water that there is, whether rain or dew, then out of that little mini-pool grows a tiny flower at random intervals.

Well, another week gone by in a flash, and it's hard for me to believe that I am already halfway through my sojourn in Costa Rica.   I'm going to work my way backwards to-day, because I have had such a lovely day to-day.   This morning I walked to a local produce market with Mamma Rita.   I had not walked in this direction before, and it was like a whole new world.   The market is held every Sunday, and covers a huge area.   All the stands are run by the people who actually grow the produce, so there are no middle men, hence really good prices.   I absolutely loved the experience!   It reminded me of Italy, of Thailand, of India, Egypt, of any of the lively street markets that I have enjoyed visiting during my varied travels around the world.   The intense vibrancy of the sounds of people advertising their wares, the press of people, children, dogs, the smells of cooking, and the overwhelming visual seduction of the multi-colored fruits and vegetables made this excursion a multi-sensory experience.   Here are a few pictures to give an idea.

A mountain of mamonchinos, which I had never tasted before to-day.   They are delicious.   The outer skin is cut in the middle and a large white fleshy fruit is exposed that looks rather like an egg.   It has a large pit in the center which is spat out after savoring the succulent sweet white flesh around it.   The sellers are very generous in allowing one to taste their wares before buying, or not!

                 

 Note the sign in the background advertising HORMONE-FREE CHICKENS

This dear old girl was kinda selling lottery tickets, but really was holding out a little pot for donations.   However,  she was making a valiant offering in return:  she was singing popular songs in a loud and really good, strong voice.

          Sweet oranges and sweet lemons

 Mamma Rita, the star of the Sunday Market

 What a magnificent splash of color those watermelons (sandias) make.   Now I understand why the mountains in Northern New Mexico are called the Sandia Mountains.   They are this very color when the sun is setting.

Mamma Rita pushing a wagon around for our wares, which we picked up at the entrance of the market. We paid a woman $1, had the use of the wagon while we walked around choosing our wares, and then got our $1 back when we returned the wagon.   We had walked to the market, but we took a taxi home.   They are ubiquitous and cheap, fortunately, because we had many, many bags, all bursting at the seams with delicious and fragrant fruits and vegetables.   We paid $2 for the most incredible pineapple I have ever seen!

This poor old fellow was selling lottery tickets (as were many others), but he kept falling asleep, and then because of his weight he kept toppling forward, catching himself just in time.

I love the way the small heads of garlic have been tied together, rather like the boned petticoats worn under crinoline skirts.

The sun came out while we were there, so we got very hot indeed, but refreshed ourselves drinking a couple of fresh coconuts, offered to us by a vendor.   We must have looked like a couple of hot and sweaty old women!   We ate the soft and tender flesh of the coconut when we returned home with our bounty.

Apart from the school, which I love, I think this was my favorite experience in Costa Rica so far.   It was just so life-affirming, simple and strong in its declaration of the joy of good, fresh and simple foods, the comfort of the kindness of strangers, and a great advertisement for a simple life.   The developed world has lost so much of its appreciation for the simple life.

This afternoon we had a massive thunderstorm and torrential rain, so it was a good time to creep back to my room and have a little siesta!   Which of course explains why I am so late in getting my blog written.

Yesterday, Saturday 27th

In the afternoon I went on the "City Tour", by private mini-bus,  provided by the school as part of my "tuition".   There were 13 of us on the bus, several from other Spanish-speaking countries.   The tour-guide, Katya, was excellent,  and gave her talks in Spanish and English, so I was able to follow both and it was a great exercise for me.   Unfortunately, it was raining most of the time, so I did not take many pictures.

She gave some general information about the country:  its size is approximately 20,000 square miles, and the national University of Costa Rica is located in San José.   We drove around its perimeter, and it is huge, covering approximately 70 acres.   It has other campuses all over the country, and also makes its tuition available on-line for those who are working or are unable to afford any fees at all.   Education is very important in this country, and attending school is mandatory, otherwise the parents of the children go to gaol!   The first 10 years of a child's education are mandatory and free, and attending university costs $1,000 per semester.   They graduate a lot of doctors and medical technicians, dentists,  pharmacists, and lawyers, to the point of saturation, so it is difficult to find a job.   There is one lawyer per 100 people in this country!

Tourism is the main industry now, and they are protecting their coastline from those who would develop it.   The Chinese have been trying to get permission to drill off-shore for oil and build a refinery but CR is not going for that.   Agriculture constitutes 23% of the economy, followed by industry at about 17%.

The National Museum, which we visited, used to be the HQ of the Costa Rican army, until it was disbanded in 1949, after their Civil War in 1948.   The Communist Party was abolished at the same time.   At this time they re-wrote their constitution for the Second Republic of Costa Rica, including many other social reforms as well as the abolition of the army.

The usual work-day here is 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, and there is a mandatory ceiling to the number of hours a person can work.   The law permits a person to work only up to 12 hours per day, because the state looks out for a person's health and well-being and does not exploit its people.

Coffee is the main export here, and it is very good.   I have not had a bad cup of coffee since I arrived (apart from that weak and watery cappuccino at the beach last weekend!)   The splendid Teatro Nacional was originally built as a comfortable and civilized meeting place for the coffee growers to congregate.  Most of the funds for its construction came from a tax that was placed on each sack of coffee that was sold to Europe.    It was finished in 1897, and is modeled after the opera-houses of Europe, so lots of gilt, mirrors, Italian marbles, and magnificent examples of local hardwoods.   Several years ago there was a severe earthquake in San José, which did huge damage to it, but it has been lovingly restored.   The local people are very proud of it as part of their heritage and a symbol of their culture and standing in the world.

 Apologies for its being out of focus.   I had to be really quick!   There was a rehearsal going on for an up-coming performance of modern dance.   When the theatre was built, they forgot to build an orchestra pit!   They have solved the problem through a system of hoists and pulleys that extends the stage out over the front rows of seats.   This auditorium is also used for big state gatherings, at which time ALL the seats are covered by a temporary floor.

This is the main reception room in the theatre.

We next went to the Gold Museum, situated beneath the Plaza de las Palomas, just across from the Teatro Nacional. This is a small museum that gives the history of pre-historic Costa Rica, and shows the development of the local tribes,exhibiting many of their tools which have been excavated, and many gold figurines depicting animals, shamans and vegetation.   As of to-day, only 1% of the population consists of indigenous peoples.

This is the main entrance to the museum, and we descended several stories  to the museum itself.

At the end of the trip we were inevitably taken to an "art gallery", euphemism for "shop", and showed various replicas of the gold figurines from the Gold Museum, and several pieces of jewelry.   There are no precious stones mined here though, or even silver, but they have gold!   Also on offer at this shop was coffee, and the national liquor GAURO.   It tasted like a cross between vodka and tequila, and it tasted pretty good in my coffee!   No doubt offered to us in the hope that it would soften us so we would make a purchase!   I escaped unscathed though!

Well, by this point we had had our way with the Guaro, and as you can see, we were pretty merry.   I was with two Ecuadorians and a Cuban from the tour, and they were extremely jolly even without the booster.

I'm going to end this chapter here and just write up a short account of last week in a separate posting.

As we say here in Costa Rica PURA VIDA   "Pure Life".   This is used to greet people, to say goodbye to people, and to use as a throw-away phrase if someone is pestering you!   People think you are Costa Rican if you say it.   I used it to-day to a man who was paying me rather too much attention at the market, and we all had a good laugh after I said it!

An extra tid-bit of information:  Costa Ricans are known as "Ticos", and the locals call their country "Tiquisia".   The people here use "tico" as the suffix to a word to make something small, instead of "ito"as in "un perro chiquetico", meaning "a little dog".   The way they use it and say it is very simpatico.

Sunday 21st July,2013, Part II

This incredible plant is called "Flame of the Wood" (Llama del Bosque"), and when I first saw it in the school garden I thought it was fake!   Absolutely incredible!

A few more generalities, as they occur to me.

First of all, I want to stress how friendly and pleasant the people are, especially those with whom I have dealings, but in general, everyone is helpful and friendly.   With the exception, I have to say, of the waiters at the cafe where I went yesterday for a coffee before returning to San José.   Doña Rita said the men tend to be very arrogant!

Second, I want to say that I feel privileged and fortunate to live in the United States.   We are so incredibly fortunate when it comes to material well-being, and the infrastructure of the country, and it is good to visit countries who do NOT have such efficient systems in place.   We are lacking other things in the USA though, that are here, and in other simpler societies than ours, such as the strength of the family, and the sense of collaboration and cooperation among family and friends.   They teach children at an early age through fables to respect their families, their elders, women, the church; and they teach the importance of hard work and helping others.   Otherwise the monster will come and get you, YOU will turn into a monster and roam around in eternity dragging heavy chains etc etc etc.

The other general observation I must make, is that most of the local people that I have seen so far, on the streets, in the buses, in the stores etc.,  do not appear healthy.   A high percentage of people are overweight, even young and attractive men and women (and children).   The diet is high in starches and carbohydrates: rice and beans (every meal), potatoes, white bread, lots of processed cakes and cookies, processed meats that are full of nitrites and nitrates, and a LOT of sugar, in both processed sweet things, and in the incredible array of tropical fruits that abound here.   Sadly, the fruits are all high on the glycemic index, so eating lots of fruit, and worse, fruit juice, which is so much more concentrated, does not help keep the body fit.   The sugar turns to fat and is hard to shed.      The result seems to be that people age fast here and do not generally have high levels of energy.   They would look quite different if they were eating the Mediterranean diet.   My Prof, Eduardo, is definitely an exception to this rule.

The water is safe to drink though, and for this I am grateful.   For breakfast I have a small dish of fruit every day prepared by Doña Rita, and either a bowl of cereal (which I purchased at the supermarket) or my complete Usana meal replacement shake, which I take with me always when I travel.   At the mid-morning break I eat a Usana protein bar, often have lunch in the school cafeteria, which is usually pretty good and costs about $5, and in the evening I eat something that Doña Rita has prepared, and lately she has been making soups and salads, which have kept me REALLY happy.   I think she's noticed that I never eat the starchy things she prepares!   I have to say that all the brain work that I am doing makes me hungry all the time!   Six hours of class plus an additional hour are demanding for anyone, let alone an old bird like me!

The plumbing leaves much to be desired!   The sewage pipes are too narrow for the volume of waste, and so everywhere people are exhorted not to flush ANYTHING down the toilet, including toilet paper.   I wondered why there was a coca cola bottle next to the WC when I arrived at my new "home", but I soon caught on!   They don't have bidets as such, but a bottle of water is used for washing oneself after using the toilet, thus eliminating the need for paper at all.   It reminds me so much of India, where people carry around little brass pots for water so they can wash themselves after relieving themselves, which they do in great numbers along the side of the railway tracks in the early morning, waving at the trains as they go by.   It also reminded me of Egypt, where there is actually a plumbed in water hose by the side of the toilet.   How much more civilized than using paper!   So I have had no problem adjusting to this custom.

My first weekend outing.

Doña Rita more or less insisted that I go on an outing with her, and with Angela, another student who lives in this house, who is 23, and studying Spanish at the University of Latin America.   I did not really want to go because from her description of the outing I knew it was not my cup of tea.   And it wasn't.   We took a taxi to the bus-station in downtown San José, and bought a ticket (after showing a photocopy of my passport I was given a senior discount ($4)).

Puntarenas promenade and beach.   These photos do not do justice to the squalor of the place.   Trust me!

We arrived at Puntarenas, a resort at the end of a spit of land jutting out into the Gulf of Nicoya, on the Pacific side of the country, and as I feared, it was a total local tourist place.   The sea is very dirty at that point because of the sewage going into it, and the beach looked sad and squalid, with lots of garbage strewn about.   There were so many people walking about, loud music everywhere, food trucks selling fried things, traffic, and roadside cafes.   We went to one of the cafes for lunch and I had some shrimp cooked in a garlic sauce with French fries and a salad, and it was very good.   Then we took a taxi along to the end of the spit where the "fancy" resort was with swimming pools and lounge chairs.   We paid $4 to get into the area, and it was just as crowded as the previous stretch of coast had been, with lots of lounge chairs, nearly all taken, three pools, all filled with people, and extremely loud music blasting from loud speakers into the area.   I found us a spot in the shade somewhat behind the music, and Doña Rita took a nap, I did some Spanish studying, and Angela dragged her chair into the sun by the pool.

 Angela sunbathing by the pool

Doña Rita and Angela in the shade

 I was not a happy camper.   I had exchanged the smell of diesel fumes for chlorine fumes coming up in powerful waves from the pools.   I had mistakenly imagined that at least I would breathe some clean sea air, but alas no.   Mercifully, it started to rain, so we packed up our things and headed back by taxi towards the bus station.   Doña Rita wanted a coffee, desperately, so we went to another local place and ordered a coffee for her, a cappuccino for me, and a coconut for Angela.   First I received my cappuccino, weak and already sweetened, and then we waited, and we waited, and we waited for the waiter to bring the other two drinks.   The waiter was truly rude and macho, which was unacceptable, given that Doña Rita is an older and very sweet and kind person.   We eventually left and caught our bus back to San José.

Puntarenas Bus Station

Buses are used a great deal in this country, more than trains, so they are always full.  The driver was excellent, prudent and courteous (and also good-looking!) At least on the way back we sat in the front row so I had some space in front of me.   On the outward trip I swear I had 8"between me and the seat in front of me and I felt quite claustrophobic.   The road went over many high bridges, and I looked down into heavily forested ravines to small rivers.   It felt very good to get back "home" again, and we had some good lentil soup for dinner.

And now it's time to do some Spanish studies:  read the newspaper, watch TV, go over verbs, learn new vocabulary, talk with my family....I'm loving every minute of it!

Sunday, 21st July 2013

I thought I'd start off with a picture of a truly magnificent BLUE hydrangea, quite hard to achieve in Houston unless you add aluminum sulphate to the soil.   I see it every day on my walk between the bus stop and my school.

So, to pick up where I left off.   The flight from Atlanta to San Jose went well, even though I was sitting in the last row of the whole plane, and every seat was taken.   Delta was offering inducements to people to give up their seat and to catch a flight the following day.   They offered $600, a night in the hotel, and food vouchers!   I guess there were takers, but it caused a delay, so we arrived in Costa Rica

about 45 minutes late.   This made me rather anxious as I was afraid the driver would not be there to meet me, and the school is closed at night and on the weekends Also,  I did not have the street address of the house where I would be staying.   There were emergency phone numbers, but as most of you know, I do not have a cell phone.   Anyway, my worries were unfounded, because Clint, the driver, was the first person I saw when I walked out of Customs.   There was another student arriving from Belgium on the same flight, so he took us both to our respective homes.   The traffic was very heavy, but he drove really well.   The driving skills of Mahmoud the Mad were still fresh in my mind from when I arrived in Cairo to go to school to study Arabic a few years ago.   I seriously doubted that I would arrive in one piece at my hotel since he either drove like a crazed maniac, or stopped in the middle of the lane of traffic to chat with a friend in another vehicle on the other side of the street....

I arrived at my new abode safely but tired, and was introduced to my Costa Rican family.   Doña Rita, 

about my age, Grettel, her daughter, Amanda, her grand-daughter, and Ariana, the 3-month old great-grand-daughter.   Four generations of women living under one roof and nary a man in sight!   

Most of the houses in San José are barricaded behind multiple bars and rolls of razor-wire, unfortunately confirming the truth of the State Department's informational blog about Costa Rica.   Crime here is a living, daily fact of life.   Doña Rita told me that on 3rd January, this year, she was getting ready to leave the house for some holiday festivities with her 40-yr old nephew;  the house door was open, the car door was open, and they were carrying things to the car.   Suddenly, four masked men appeared, one of them armed with a pistol, and forced her inside the house, dragged the nephew from the car into the house, and bound them both at the wrists and ankles.   At this point Rita lost consciousness, and when she came back to her senses they had stolen the computer,  money, camera equipment, and anything else of value that they could lay their hands on.   All this took place in broad daylight.   Rita is very religious and prayed her way through the experience, and was just grateful that the rest of the family was not there at that moment.   After this event she installed bars and a gate on the sidewalk, and another barred gate at the entrance to the porch.   I'm glad I didn't know about this before I arrived, or I may have had second thoughts.   

There are only four million+ Costa Ricans, but over two million Nicaraguans, who entered the country illegally and are now trying to make a living.   Unfortunately, much of the crime is attributed to them whether that be the case or not.   Rather like the US and the Mexicans, or the Egyptians and the Libyans ("bloody buggers" as my Egyptian driver called them many years ago when my husband and I were honeymooning in Egypt).   I have been warned countless times now by several people not to carry more than a few colones (CR currency) with me, and not to flash my camera around.   I brought only plastic beads and fun jewelery with me, a Swiss army watch, and all old shoes that I shall be quite happy to jettison at my departure.

Home security measures

Speaking of shoes, I am really glad I brought only old ones because the side-walks are hazardous, to put it mildly!   Add to that the rainy season("winter", as the locals call it) which has just started, and piles of dirt which turn to mud when it rains, and you can see how easy it would be to ruin a nice pair of shoes.   Everyone goes around here with a mini-umbrella, but usually no rain gear.   The showers are brief but intense, but it never gets cold, so a sweater is usually all that is needed, and only for brief periods.

A couple of minor street hazards to be avoided when walking in San José.   Deep gutters, like ditches,  carry away the heavy waste water.

SCHOOL

Monday was my first day, and I had to be there by 8 a.m. for orientation, so Doña Rita accompanied me there on the bus.   There are many twists and turns on the walk to the bus-stop from home, but from the bus-stop to school it is easy.   I did not feel confident to go alone on Tuesday, so again she accompanied me, but on Wednesday I braved the journey alone!   Exact addresses are not used here, and neither do buses have numbers.   They give destinations, near and far, and if you don't know any of the places, well, tough!   I have a little piece of paper in my bum-bag (fanny-pack in the US) with all the buses I must NOT take.   And you'd better have more or less the right fare in coins because the drivers don't like to waste time giving change for bills.   The fares average 25 cents, no matter where you get off along the bus-route.  The currency reminds me so much of the Italian lire I used when I was living there.   You think you are rich because you have bills for 10,000 colones ($20) in your wallet, and like in Italy until the use of the Euro started, houses, cars, and large items cost millions of colones! 

By Friday I was not stressed out by it any longer, but the journey is still stressful, because the pollution is horrible.   As bad as Bangkok, I'd say, but not quite as bad as Cairo.   So many diesel fumes from the many buses, and the drivers are very independent and don't really like to obey traffic-lights, and as for roundabouts, well, that is a real test of your masculinity...do you submit to a bus, or do you whip in front of it in your tiny car like a mosquito annoying an elephant, daring it to tread on you?   I really want to walk to school this coming week, and I think it will take me only about 30 minutes, but the thing that worries me the most is that I shall have to cross a large roundabout, with no crossings.   Now, I used to cross Tahrir Square every day, which is even larger and more hazardous, but crossing the street is dangerous at the best of times here in San José, and a zig-zag across a roundabout with 6 or 7 streets converging on it can be pretty intimidating.

The school is without a doubt, fantastic!   It is incredibly well organized, and the staff are efficient and very very helpful and friendly.   There is water and coffee available at all times, and the coffee here is superb, even when made in great quantities.   I was thankful to pay for the whole month when I turned up on Monday, so at least I need not worry about losing my school fees to bandits!

I had to do a placement test, and it was so well done, so thorough and precise, and pleasantly done, and I was placed in Intermediate 2, with two guys, one from NJ, and the other from TX.   I could not have been placed with a better teacher.   He is an intellectual, studying for his Masters in Philology.   His approach to teaching is exactly the way I like it:  thorough, in depth, and giving the reasons why something is the way it is.   Since all of us had some knowledge, but it was spotty and irregular, he spent the week revising everything, the most important of which is the past perfect and imperfect.   I have a new respect for verbs now!   They are the Kings of Spanish grammar, and upon them all else hangs.   He is probably the best language teacher I have ever had, though I am reminded of my dear teacher Samr, my favorite Arabic teacher in Cairo.   I love grammar, and understanding how a language works, and when you grasp it, you understand how elegant a language can be.   Spanish is so much more precise in its shades of meaning than English, and in its clarity of intention.   I am also getting the feeling that Arabic had a large influence on the construction of Spanish, which is hardly surprising since the Arabs occupied Spain for 600 years.   There are several Spanish words which come directly from Arabic.   This connection really thrills my heart!

Eduardo, my teacher

Mis compañeros Alex and Rolando and Eduardo, mi profesor

One thing I have had to learn and apply in nearly every conversation, is that I do not refer to the USA as America, or to things and people being American.   The whole of Central America,  and South America, is "America", and the inhabitants consider themselves Americans, so I am obliged to refer to things as "Statunidenses" and the USA as "Los Estados Unidos", which is quite a mouthful when trying to make a quick comment!

I was so thrilled with Eduardo that I changed my schedule from 5 hours a day to 6 hours a day, which means my lessons end at 4, leaving me one hour until 5 to either do more conversation with a bunch of students from other classes, or a dance class, or a cooking class, or yoga on a Wednesday.

I shall give more details of home and school when I have taken more photographs to illustrate things.   A picture is worth a thousand words, right?   All in all, it was a good first week, but it takes time to get used to the environment in a developing country (they refer to themselves as a 3rd world country) because there is usually a lot more garbage everywhere, more traffic, more pollution, and more noise.   This is without a doubt one of the noisiest countries I have ever visited.