Singing in the Rainy Season

August 31, 2010

         It’s packing day here, getting ready for our move tomorrow. But I’ll take a break to draft this post and bring my devoted Followers up to date. We found our “almost perfect” apartment on Saturday. It turned out to be the very one that Dennis had mentioned before we arrived but then thought was already rented. Apparently, it was just miscommunication with the owner, so that a week later it was available after all. Just as we did last spring when we saw Hazel’s chalet, we fell immediately in love with the place. It has everything we wanted except for that second bedroom, but the “great room” is large enough to accommodate a futon for guests, there is a small office, and the rest of the place is simply delightful. All new and modern construction with lovely furnishings, it has a wonderful kitchen with a gas stove, which will make dinner parties a pleasure to prepare. There’s a big covered rancho a few steps away with a gas grill for cooking outdoors. And… ta da! … a gorgeous swimming pool. All this for $640 per month, including utilities -- not quite a Tico price but affordable. The landlords live in a beautiful home uphill on the sizeable property, which has a citrus orchard adjacent as well as acres of jungle and views of the mountains beyond. We can’t wait to move in tomorrow and finally unpack from our long summer of vagabond life.

         The day we were scheduled to go out with Gerardo and Nelson to look at housing options, there was a torrential downpour, a blustery drenching that we feared might delay the trip. In the midst of the storm, we heard a huge boom of thunder nearby and promptly the electricity went off, increasing our concern of a canceled tour. But shortly before our 2 p.m. appointment, the rain slacked off and soon our intrepid guides showed up. Still, the rain had taken its toll; as we neared town, we encountered a large dead tree fallen across the main road, requiring vehicles of all sizes to detour carefully around it. But by the time we returned to Vista Atenas two hours later, the authorities had already cut it back to allow passage and the electricity was back on, proving that sometimes things can move quickly and efficiently here.

         On our shopping trip into Atenas on Friday, we wandered through the farmers’ market and were delighted to find jalapenos, something we longed for all spring but never found. Contrary to what many people assume, Costa Rican food is quite bland in general and picante peppers are hard to find. With plenty of room for container gardening at our new apartment, I plan to grow my own jalapenos, tomatillos, basil, mint, tomatoes and turnip greens from organic seeds I brought from the States. Our new landlords seem to share our appreciation for organic foods, as well as other values such as recycling. The charming landlady we met, Odie, even mentioned her plan to get some chickens. How lovely to have fresh eggs!

         Friday night we called a taxi and headed up to El Mirador, the discothèque we frequented last spring, for an evening of karaoke and dancing. Our friend the owner seemed delighted to see us and Lenny, a Tico gentleman we remembered from earlier visits, came rushing over to greet us, a huge smile on his face as he pumped our hands in welcome. Unfortunately, the new D.J. had no English language songs or I’m sure Layne would have been on the floor, mike in hand, crooning old Eagles or Sinatra melodies. As it was we sipped our Imperial beers and enjoyed watching Lenny and others perform.

         On Saturday night, celebrating our success in finding a new home, we went downtown to Kay’s Gringo Postre for the monthly dance party. This time it was in celebration of Kay and Tom’s seventh wedding anniversary and the place was pretty packed with Gringos and Ticos alike. Not shy when it comes to dancing, Layne and I were on the floor more than most and when ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” came on, we had center stage to ourselves, flamboyantly improvising and giving expression to the lyrics. When the music ended, the crowd applauded our duet, with one man saying “I’d pay to watch that!” As the evening wore on, one of the Ticas approached Layne, inviting him to dance with her, a high compliment to his terpsichorean skills. He was flattered and delighted, reveling in the honor even after we returned home.

         The monthly dances are just one of the reasons that Layne and I feel we will settle in the Atenas area where we’ve learned the stores, made friends and know our way around. So yesterday we stopped in at the post office, or Correos, to rent a mailbox for a permanent address, only to learn they have none available until next March, when renewals come due and many will abandon their boxes. In the meantime, we’ll settle for General Delivery. No problema.         

         While we were there a Gringo entered carrying a big package to mail and struck up a conversation with us, asking how long we’d been in the country. As we chatted, he offered all kinds of cautionary notes to us newbies, from warning me not to wear fancy jewelry (what fancy jewelry?), saying thieves will “cut your hand off” to get a diamond ring, to urging us never to carry a computer in view. Although he allowed that Atenas is relatively safe, Alajuela and San Jose, like large cities the world over, are less so. There the criminals are willing to hurt you to get to your valuables. Indeed, already in our brief visits to San Jose, which have totaled only a few days, we experienced a near miss on a purse snatching while sitting at a sidewalk cafe, foiled only by the loud warning shouts of a nearby elderly Tica, so we are distinctly cautious anytime we visit the city. But I would feel the same way in Oakland, California, where drive-by shootings and random violence are so prevalent. Here in Atenas, we feel no such fear, comfortably exploring this charming pueblo and gradually becoming an accepted part of the community.

         (Drafted yesterday but unable to post due to Internet problems and photo transfer issues. Enjoy -- and look for another post soon now that we are moved into our new place.)

Toucan Welcoming Committee

(Note to readers: Click on photos to enlarge.)

Thursday, March 11, 2010

         Much has happened, both good and bad, since my last post. Although I was past the worst of the intestinal distress by Saturday afternoon, Layne’s difficulties lasted another two days, forcing us to contemplate a trip to a Costa Rican doctor. Then on Monday, I was hit with a nameless malaise that had me in bed with chills and general misery but with few specific symptoms. We still don’t know what caused my discomfort but it served as a lesson on the perils of food in foreign countries, not that we really know what food it was. Different people, different symptoms; still it made us nervous about eating out. Even in Costa Rica, where the water is good and the people are clean, it gives one pause. I was certainly glad when by Tuesday morning, I was beginning to pull out of it.

         And none too soon since our much-anticipated moving day was coming right up. On Wednesday morning, after turning in our keys at Villa Roma, we loaded our hired van up with luggage and headed for Atenas where our real estate friends, Dennis and Gerardo, were awaiting our arrival to drive us to the new casa. Our charming landlady Hazel was here with beautiful cut flowers and fresh bananas to greet us in this lovely chalet. But when we tried to pay our rent with American Express Travelers Checks, we learned that the banks in Costa Rica have a policy of holding such payments for anywhere from 25 to 45 days! Needless to say, Hazel was hoping for a rent payment in dollars or colones. After some deliberation, Hazel offered to take us to the bank in town in the hopes of changing the travelers checks into negotiable cash. So off we went in her well-traveled Jeep-type vehicle, banging over the rough spots with aplomb.

         No problem at the bank! With Layne’s passport and signature on the checks, we soon had our month’s rent paid in colones and were off to the super-mercado (grocery store) for some shopping while Hazel patiently waited for us outside, drinking a cerveza and making real estate calls. Talk about a great landlady!

         We arrived back at our new home and with drink in hand, moved outside to the terrace to begin our new life in Atenas. And what a life it promises to be! Our chalet is positioned high on a cliff so that birds fly by at eye level. We soon had hummers, brown robins, yellow-breasted somethings, an occasional blue bird of some sort and completely manic swallows, flitting here and there capturing bugs for their dinner. The sun was setting over the Pacific against a haze of clouds and the breeze was wafting up the canyon, cooling the late afternoon warmth. As I glanced over Layne’s shoulder, I recognized a Toucan that had just landed in our backyard tree! What an exotic sight with his magnificent curved beak and colorful breast. Then three more joined him, hopping from limb to limb. Four Toucans in our garden! What is this? Paradise?

         The “sounds of life” here are amazing - frogs, crickets, birds of all voices from chirpers to cacklers. We even have a big brown robin that visits our garden for worms and bugs, bravely hopping along only a few feet from us. (He’s here right now as I write this.)  This morning I watched him pounce on a worm and gobble it up before the wiggler knew what hit it!

         But the most incredible sound last night had us fooled. As the late afternoon sun faded in the distance, we began to hear a loud bird or … what? A sound like we had never heard before started out in chopping sounds and swelled into a shrieking continuous howl that actually made Layne’s hearing aide noise circuits cut out! What the heck was that? We tried to imagine a bird that could possible create such a noise! Well, today we learned it was undoubtedly a howler monkey. Indeed, they are out again tonight and add a unique, if raucous, sound to the evening’s entertainment. We surmise that they live in the dense jungles below us.

         This morning I was awakened just before seven a.m. by the certain sound of gunfire - two, three shots fired just below our property. What on earth? Since there was no going back to sleep, I arose to make coffee and see what was happening in the neighborhood. As I looked out over the railing, I saw several men beneath the trees handling a large heavy carcass, obviously a cow. While I watched in fascination, the men pulled and tugged on the legs of the animal to turn it on its back as another man began to cut the dead animal down the center of its belly. This was more than I could stand to watch but clearly, they had just harvested one of their cattle for meat and were about to butcher it.

         Over the course of the morning, we checked on their progress and sure enough, working as a team, the five or six men skinned and carved the cow into its edible parts and carried them away. As we sipped our coffee, we watched as dozens of vultures began to circle above, heads cocked to watch the progress below them. Numbers of them perched, vulture-like, in a dead tree nearby, waiting and watching. At one point, the men threw some of the innards into a clearing and the hungry birds quickly swooped in to devour it. Then after all the inedible parts had been collected, another man, with the last of the guts in a wheelbarrow, hauled it down to the clearing for the birds to clean up. As the men - and we - watched, some thirty or forty or more birds converged on the waste parts, fighting greedily, beaks viciously pulling each piece apart.

         By now, the men had become aware of us watching them and we’d joined them in laughing at the gluttonous vultures and waving down at them in camaraderie. For after all, this cow had had a good life on open pasture, was not subjected to cruel and filthy stockyard treatment, had no antibiotics or poisons in its system and had been fortunate to receive a quick and humane death. Now, in the way of nature, it would be used to perpetuate the lives of other creatures. It may not have been pretty but it was a very educational and somewhat profound experience. Pura Vida indeed.