Saturday, December 23, 2006

Snow in Costa Rica

Three days before Christmas I was traversing San Jose through the central mall. The streets were packed with busy shoppers and peddlers selling their goods. It was the hustle and bustle that you might find the week before Christmas in the US as well.

Because Costa Rica lies close to the equator, the average yearly temperature is around 76 degrees. The weather rarely drops into the 60s, even high in the mountains. There is no snow here, making the prospect of a white Christmas seem comical. That said, they still sell snow frosted trees, rain deer pulling sleighs and snow globes.

Part of the holiday ritual in San Jose is to make it a white Christmas. There are hundreds of vendors in the streets selling white paper confetti. I was in a hurry, so as I bustled through the mall, I hoped to avoid the white snowflakes being tossed around. As I got close to the center of town, the crowd got denser, and the snow got thicker. It was literally snowing, and there was no way to avoid it.

As I stepped around a group of kids, I got hit with my first snowball. I wasn't ready for it, and had my mouth agape as the confetti filled my hair, shirt, and nose. I coughed, inhaling the little pieces of paper as another hit me, this time in my ear. Then another and another. I was being assaulted by confetti. People would walk up to me, look for a second and then douse me with another handful of paper. By the time I got to the bus, I was a walking snowman.

It is these small differences and beams of light that make Costa Rica such a wonderful place to be. A ritual where assaulting others with handfulls of confetti in the US would land you in jail or start a fight. The ideology that community is a thing of the past is killing the light spirt and enjoyment of life in our society. Who would have thought that a bag of confetti could unify a community, and create a white christmas where there is no snow.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Spin to Win v2.0

The last 'Spin to Win' post had to do with spinning my mind, and cycling. This one is about spinning a different kind of wheel.

Driving in Costa Rica is pretty much insane. There are a number of different factors that contribute to this general level of insanity. First, its the laws and the lack of personnel to enforce them. Most of the traffic laws here are the same as in the states: Obey stop signs, yield, no passing zones, ect.. However they are all merely suggestions. There are very few traffic cops to enforce the laws, and most of the officers that are on the roads are easily bribed out of writing you a ticket. The tickets are inexpensive (16US$ for DUI), so there really is not much incentive to follow them.

Second, the drivers. The Costa Ricans are fanatical drivers. They must get where they are going as fast as possible using the path of least resistance. To this end, they will drive on sidewalks, in the wrong lanes, or create new lanes, if it will get them there faster. It is not uncommon to get passed by busses going uphill around blind corners on dirt roads on your left side on the shoulder!

Third, it is the poor quality of the roads that crisscross around and through the mountains and jungles that dot the Costa Rican landscape. Many of the roads are paved with many potholes, unpaved with many potholes, or are only roads by the virtue of the last 10 people who drove there to get around the person in front of them. This story is about this aspect of the Costa Rican driving experience.


I was at Centaura (my company's horse stables) this morning after flying the hot air balloon over the Jungle with Esteban. Some of the guys had gone to the upper field to bring back horses for the clients who were riding in the afternoon. I had just missed them, and Esteban suggested I take Rosita (Tucker's infamous red Land Cruiser) up to the upper pasture. I also took with me Danny (cause he knew where we were going), and Paul (cause he was caught in the crossfire). We started up the hill toward the field, and a lot of the ground was muddy... Not just muddy puddle muddy, but slippery red clay and muck muddy. Rosita slid a bit, but managed to cruise over the level but slippery ground. It was similar to driving on snow.

When we got to the hill, there was a trickle of reddish water coming down the hill along with the guys who went to get the horses. They didn't need our help, but we decided to go up to the upper pasture anyway, just to see it and check out the horses. As we began to climb the muddy road, the tires spun a bit as red clay shot out the bottom of the Land Cruiser. The road went up gradually with clay over rocks for a bit before turning sharply upward and around a corner, banked and graded to the left. The wheels began to spin out and the cruiser lost control and power I floored to climb the steeper section of road. The road was already rutted out from others spinning their wheels, and the mud splattered everywhere as I floored it, hoping to regain traction and make the move up the hill. The tires screeched and spun, but the car wasn't going any further up the hill. Disappointed that we'd have to walk the last 100m, I slowly rolled the car backwards down the hill. This is when gravity took over.

Next thing I knew, the car was sliding sideways across the road (remember, the road was graded). As the car slid hopelessly into the ditch I spun the tires, a last chance to save the car from the small streambed roadside. The car tilted sideways as the left tires dropped into the chasm. We were stuck. Very stuck. For more than an hour, the three of us stuffed anything we could find under the wheels to create traction, to no avail. Finally, we radioed back to base that we were going to need some help.

They came in force. Three guys, a Land Rover 4x4, and a lot of will. They began trying to climb the hill I was unable to. It was nerve racking watching their vehicle climb the same path, get stuck and then almost roll backwards into Rosita. They tried that at least 4 times before deciding that the car wouldn't climb the hill, period. This was encouraging because at least they couldn't climb it either! Watching them spin their wheels, I didn't feel quite as stupid about landing the car off the road. After an hour of wheel spinning, rubber burning, mud slinging, car pushing, people pulling fun in the mud, we decided on two things: 1) We couldn't do it, 2) The Land Rover was almost out of gas.

A few of us headed back for more fuel while two of the younger guys stayed with Rosita. Getting gas in Costa Rica is quite difficult. Stations are few and far in between. An hour and a half later when they returned with gas, Rosita followed close behind. After we left, the two younger guys (neither had drivers licenses) read the instruction manual on Rosita and figured out how to use the winch and positraction, two very useful tools when you are stuck in the mud. The kids were so proud of themselves, it was good to see such spirit. I will never live this one down with Tucker. It is part of the ritual. Every young, male, non-Costa Rican guide she has ever had has gotten the car stuck one way or another. At least I didn't roll it, crash it, or damage it in any sort of permanent way. Of course, I do have 5 more months...

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Spin to Win

With 2 weeks of Spanish school under my belt, my head hurts. Every day of Spanish school was easily more difficult than any one day of school I ever had at UPS. My daily schedule was strictly regimented to keep me from going completely nuts. As follows:

(Early morning hours, maybe roused by the occasional earthquake, four in two weeks)
7:30- Wakeup with Mama Tica knocking on my door
7:40- breakfast (1st cup of coffee)
7:50- Walk 5 minutes to school (2nd cup as entering building)
8:00- Class starts with conversation and new topic of the day (3rd cup as the bell rings)
10:00- Descanso (10 minute break for minisnack and more coffee)
10:20- Return to class with head spinning (on to 4th or 5th cup)
12:00- Break for lunch, discuss with friends how difficult Spanish school is at our favorite lunch spot, Soda Olivia. Soda Olivia is owned by a crazy woman named Tommy who speaks at least 5 languages, and is fluent in English with a strong NY accent. Her husband Carlos runs the place where they serve the best Casado (CR cuisine at its finest, rice, beans, meat, and salad) in Costa Rica for less than $2US. After lunch, I have 2 hours of conversation class where all of the head hurting and learning seems to pay off, and I continue to discover how much I don't know in the language.

3:00- Class is over. I usually lay in a hammock for a good 15 minutes to decompress before heading home to do homework and cook with my family. Although I've been sitting all day, I am tired like I've just worked a full day on the river.

After a week of classes I was having a hard time sleeping, and was feeling really tired all the time. I decided, on a whim, to check out the exercise options in San Joaquin de Flores. It turns out spinning is the workout craze in Costa Rica. Spinning involves a group of people working out together on stationary bicycles. Its like any group exercise, except the trainer is constantly changing the music, lights, and pace of the workout. I was instantly hooked. During my second week of classes, I never missed a workout. Every day at 5pm, I'd head down to Spin City for an hour session. The workout is especially interesting in a language you don't know. All of the encouragement and enthusiasm of the instructor becomes whatever you imagine it to be. Mind mind often wandered to crew, or the girls spinning next to me.

My family in San Joaquin was fabulous! My parents were Nidia (pron=Kneedeeahh) & Miquel, and their two kids Jimmy (16) and Jason (21). They were very welcoming from the first day to the last day, and always made sure I had enough to eat. Nidia lives at home, and the family hosts students mostly because she enjoys the company. They spoke virtually no English which made coming home both interesting and difficult. They invited me to come back to their house for Christmas and tamales (the CR Christmas specialty). I am sure I will.