Monkey Testicles and Majestic Volcanoes

Man, do I feel lazy about writing this blog. Can’t wait until I can just tell all of you stories in person. Anyway, this past weekend we had our last group trip which was to La Fortuna and Arenal, an active but presently dormant volcano with some hot springs and a pretty touristy town. The theme of this trip was pretty much food. It was ridiculous. We didn’t leave until 8 so all of us had eaten breakfast, and then it turns out that stopping at a restaurant and ordering was included. We then went to an animal refuge center where they take and treat animals and plan to release them but sometimes it is no longer feasible who are maltreated or injured or in danger. It’s a private non-profit with no support from outside organizations. Some of the animals were in pretty small cages and seemed pretty angry about it like pretty much all of the felines. The highlight of it was of course expected to be the jaguar who was holding a constant growl the entire time. But we also saw crocodiles, really really smelly and dirty pigs, the fattest and juggliest different kind of pig I have ever seen (I might have offended it a bit with my comments since it was just SO FAT and SO JIGGLY), a pair of lions who were cuddling eachother (we were in shock when we came to the pen), a crazy ostrich with an injured wing (we were sooo close to her and she kept strutting around like she owned the world and ostriches are definitely the strangest animals in the universe-we were all fascinated but especially Molly), an emu, lots of different types of gorgeous and very loud birds, turtles (including mating ones), and more. We then got to the hotel in Arenal after leaving that place late at about 3:40 when we were supposed to get there at one…typical. We ate a delicious lunch then headed to this place called The Springs http://springscostarica.com/ to go to some hot springs. Now I expected hot springs like the ones we had gone to at the beginning. With some holes in the ground and a man with a garbage bag cape painting you with mud. But this was a TEENSY bit different. A resort and spa with about 30 pools, a swim up bar, a giant slide, some man made waterfalls, a gift shop where the cheapest thing was $50…you get the idea. It was beautiful and super fun to be pampered but at the same time made me a bit sad, reminding me that eco tourism is ironically losing its touch with nature. But there were a ton of well-treated Costa Rican employees which made things a bit better. The weirdest thing was when we were getting our wristbands to go in the cute guy giving them to us was like “I know you. Where have I seen you before?” I thought he was kidding around, but then he was like “at your grandma’s house” and it was so weird because I remembered and he is the boyfriend of my Costa Rican cousin and came to my grandma’s house for a celebration once. Mind you, that’s 4 hours away in car, and he remembered and we had literally seen each other for all of 5 minutes. Such a small world. Then dinner was included at this place, and we were not prepared. None of us had much more to wear than bathing suits and sat down and were catered to at this fancy restaurant. We weren’t hungry, but the food was free! Salad, this AMAZING pasta with veggies and the most delicious sauce ever, and tres leches cake. Needless to say, I sent a lot of my food to Chris, the Food Champ (we have three of those in our group-Chris, Zach and Abe, all skinny, and all bottomless pits. They secretly love my almost veganism because they get the food I won’t eat). The next day we went to a feline and monkey refuge at The Springs where the owner takes in cats when a government organization couldn’t afford to do it anymore. It was pretty cool, and we all loved the mountain lion named Guapo (handsome). The monkeys once again freaked me out with how human-like they were. I’m pretty sure it’s the hands that do it. Then we went on a super fun canopy tour, where the guides pushed us to launch us off, and we zipped through the forest. Oh, and the breakfast at the hotel was sooo good with the nicest and most patient waiter in the world. And then we ate lunch at the canopy tour place then had free time where some people went back to The Springs and a small group of us went to walk around La Fortuna which was a bit touristy but really cool. I got a beautiful handmade dress and a few last gifts that I needed, and we sat in a coffee shop (Mousmanni-their cheap and delicious form of Dunkin’ Donuts) and talked about life. I have no idea how people ate even more. We then came back for dinner, and Annna and I practiced our dance alongside the hot spring at our hotel and laughed our pants off, and I studied a bit. The next day we went to Arenal to get a tour of the bottom of the volcano. Even though it’s dormant hiking to the crater is illegal because three people died there about 10 years ago when there was a mini eruption and they escaped it and one died in the ambulance on the way down, another on the plane on the way home, and another back home. It was because of the tiny vitreous pieces released into the air when the volcano erupts that got into their lungs. The volcano was so beautiful and majestic but the weather was stinky and it was covered with clouds but beauty like that makes you think about the real important things in life and puts you in peace and in love with the world. Our guide told us all about the plants and the animals and the medicinal value of things and the formation of the craters and the eruption of 1968 where over 80 people died but it was on the other side of the volcano and not La Fortuna and that’s why La Fortuna has it’s name (because they were fortunate). And we also learned that monkey testicles are white to not attract the sun to keep their sperm at the right temperature so they can survive and be fertile.

Only in Costa Rica...

So several things.

1. Groupwork here is such a ridiculous thing. Sometimes (rarely) groups are super organized and things get done. However, quite often this strange phenomenon happens where people say things that they don’t actually do. For example, for my Costa Rican dance class we have groups. Each group has a region and needs to find out information about the region and choreograph a dance to go with it. The professor was not in class for four weeks, but she told us to come to work on our dances anyway. I came the first week, only one girl from my group was there, and she told me that we would work out a time to do the dance when the other guy was there. I told her I would give her my contact information, she told me she was bad with that kind of stuff and not to worry about it. I then came every other week, and there was no one there. One day I saw her in the cafeteria and insisted on giving her my e-mail and phone number but never heard from her. Finally, for the first class for which the professor was back my group didn’t show up. We had yet to meet and were supposed to have a dance by then or at least an idea of one. Needless to say, the professor switched my group. I moved into Anna’s group which already had a lot of a dance done and seemed really on top of things. However, people kept dropping out and joining the group which messed up the dynamic of the dance. We planned to meet the following Tuesday at noon at the dance studio (by the way a 40 minute walk from my house) to work on it. Five minutes after I get there, Fabio (yes, his name is Fabio…), says he has a meeting in San Jose at 1:30 and that we should make it the next day at noon instead. Strange but okay. I run into the girl from my original group on my way out who tells me that the group was almost ready to start working on the dance…clueless much? Anna and I show up the next day at noon, and no one is there. The first girl in our group who doesn’t know what’s going on comes at 1 pm. And Fabio gets there at 3 pm, just in time for class to start…Then we learn that the only guy who could memorize choreography in our group had dropped the class. Then Fabio and the only other guy in our group leave class early without any plans for working on our dance. That left Anna, this girl Alice and me to talk to the professor. The professor then told us (two American girls who can’t dance and this tica girl) that it would probably be best to make something up on our own. Especially because we realized that the old dance was exactly the same thing the professor had taught us that we would be performing but only in a different order. The only day we all could meet was later that day, but the earliest a studio was open was 7:45. Thank goodness for Alice that she offered to make up the dance in the meantime, we returned to the studio until 9 pm to learn it…seriously, what was that?
2. Today I was supposed to have a quiz on different types of mines and mineral deposits, different mining techniques, and mineral purification for which I had spent about 10 hours studying. We get there, and the professor puts us to work in groups, assigning each group a topic with a huge article to read, a powerpoint to make, and a verbal presentation to compose. I found my way of helping my group, actually getting pretty into it and thorough while trying to retain all of the information and new words I had tried to learn for the quiz. I was preparing myself for not reading off of the slides since the professor was making sure people had what they wanted to say memorized. Anyway, among other groups, we ended up not having time to do our presentation, and there also wasn’t time to take the quiz. Mind you, this class is 3.5 hours long…So, he said that he could tell everyone was prepared for the presentation and had studied for the quiz and gave us all 100s…such is my life. Now I’m thinking of giving my 14 pages of underlined and annotated quiz notes away as a gift…

Poem about growing up...

With face burning and limbs throbbing

She turns her honey sticky face

To peer right into his eyes

Eyebrows scrunched and tears pinching her eyelashes

“when will I feel better?”

“Tomorrow”

“Promise?”

“I promise”

The eyebrows flattened and eyes softened

He knows

Any question and there is an answer

Nothing is permanent that she can’t handle

And sure enough, 98.3 that next day

Skipping off to school with her slick silver backpack slipping up and down up and down

She’s running, running, sweating, panting

And crack

Her father never guessed this one

He couldn’t tell her that she could run again

He couldn’t tell her that anyone had any control over anything

The bubble hadn’t just burst

It had exploded and choked her throat and stung her eyes

Even if understanding and comfort had always been veils

She wished she could keep on pretending

Instead of being in the world

With every question to remain unanswered

With every fear to remain unsettled

Sightless. Lame. Terrified.

A very brief reflection

So now that my time here is coming to a close and the weather is growing more and more amazing, I am beginning to think about my experience here, the relationships I've formed, my priorities thus far and my priorities for the future. I am definitely looking forward to going home, both because of missing the culture and the comfort and of course because of the people. The strange thing is, for so long I wanted my family to move away from the house in Jersey Dan and Noah and I have lived in our whole lives, thinking it would be so easy to detach myself from it, just as my transition to college life had been so smooth and easy. But now the more I think about it the more I miss that house, as I feel now, the only place that will ever be my true home. Yes, I will and have considered other places "home", but that house has held countless memories, countless positive experiences, countless extremely sad experiences, countless fears, countless frustrations, countless aspirations and a ridiculous personal growth that has taken place within it, yes, but mostly away from it, with the house being the base to return to. To come back to with my new perspective on the world, on life. To daydream about when I need comfort.
At the same time I miss my family here even before I leave them. I feel like I'm a permanent part of them but at the same time like I've barely scratched the surface of knowing who each one of them is. I feel torn with distributing my time among my new, surely lifelong friends here, completing my school work and doing well, and spending time with my family. A lot of that time ends up going to good old facebook. The weird slash maybe not-so-weird thing is that I have virtually no desire to meet new people right now. And I ALWAYS want to meet new people in almost any situation. There is just no point, no time to spend with them, they will just thin out my time even more.
I wonder if I have taken advantage of every opportunity, grown in every facet of myself, appreciated everything to its full extent. And I know that the answer is of course not. Not even close. But I think the most important thing is that I'm okay with that. I think and hope I am slowly learning to not be so hard on myself in at least some aspects. To be proud of myself for coming here, for pushing myself out of my comfort zone but not constantly. For understanding that I have limits-that I can't be happy all of the time, that I can't be social all of the time, that I can't be perfect. It's one of the hardest things for me. I'm also frustrated with myself for not speaking Spanish at all times with my American friends here. But I realize that it's okay to do that. My Spanish has already improved tremendously, and I'm not going to let it go anytime soon. I speak so much Spanish here that it's okay to speak some English for comfort sometimes (and so that people don't know what I'm saying and that I'm talking about them...)
I really sincerely miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss my true independence. I miss frisbee. I miss that true sense of comfort that is so rare to have. I miss the American culture, that I now realize does exist outside of simple "consumerism, commercialism" that I've so long criticized. America is no better and no worse than any other country given its wealth and opportunities. And the US has caused MANY issues of course and I have a billion critiques, but people here need to stop criticizing the fast food industry we brought here while shoving McDonalds down their throats and not being able to use the "cheap" excuse that is actually a factor in the states, but here it is actually more expensive than their delicious preservative-free Soda or University cafeteria food...Because fast food would not exist if they didn't support it...Of course advertising and ignorance play tremendous roles, so I can't be so harsh...And there are some wonderful people in the states. And an awesome folk movement. Although this whole election nonsense and these insane candidates are scaring the bajeebles out of me. I believe I will come back bolder-if I can muddle through and ask questions and figure things out here, in Spanish, what do I have to be afraid of in English?

sometimes paragraphs and making sense are overrated. especially when your legs want to punch you.

Okay so this weekend I just hiked the tallest mountain in Costa Rica, Chirripo. 12,000 feet high, second tallest in Central America. No big deal or anything…anyway, two groups of our friends had already done it and gave us some advice. It ended up being Molly, Maria and me, and it was an excellent group because we get along super well. They are wonderful. Anyway, we left Thursday directly after the earlier Spanish class. We were so prepared-had gone food shopping with a list, packed every article of warm clothing and rain gear we could find, and got directions of how to get there from the Chatman. However, clearly me packing every last thing we could possibly need did not include my hiking boots…kind of like the time I went to the Chili Pepper’s concert and the only thing I forgot was my ticket…so this time, like the time before, I had to pay for a taxi back to my house, have it wait outside, and have it bring me back to the university so that we could leave on time. Typical. Anyway, we took a bus to San Jose, then, rather than walking several miles to try and find the bus station, we decided to take a taxi there. However, even though we clearly explained where we needed to go in Spanish AND this driver happened to speak English, we took off down some highway and were driving for about 20 minutes before I was like “ummmm where is he taking us? We’re not in San Jose anymore…” and we asked him and he literally had no idea where he was going. Seriously people here have the strangest senses of direction. And when they know they don’t know where something is they pretend they do know. Anyway, he calls someone to find out where the station is after we were like “dude what are you doing?” and then turns back around. Even though the Maria said we owed around $40 he only charged us 6. which was still way too much for the actual distance, but we paid it and had wasted about 45 minutes in a taxi. We get to the bus station just in time to get tickets for the 11:30 bus to San Isidro General and enjoyed the amazing mountain views on the ride over. Once there, we took a four wheel drive taxi up to the ranger station to buy tickets to hike for the next two days ($20 a day! Pretty expensive for what we’re used to…) We then had our now new friend of a taxi driver bring us to Casa La Mariposa hostel http://www.hotelcasamariposa.net/ where we would spend the night before starting our journey. We walked in there and immediately wanted to move in. The owners are a hippie-style middle aged American couple, and the entire place is like a cozy log cabin, complete with home made granola bars for the hike, organic raw ingredients for purchase, and free warm clothes to borrow. My description won’t do it justice, so please check out the facebook pictures. It was so clean and cozy with comfy beds and a poem in the bathroom about not killing bugs if you find them. My kind of place! We also met another group of students studying in Costa Rica who were planning on starting the climb the next day as well. We had entirely too much in common with them-one of their girlfriends goes to AU, one of them knows one of my good friends from college because she went to high school with her in Indonesia, two of them play ultimate, one is from the same city as Maria, etc. They were seriously so cool. We also met a super spunky and wonderful British woman named Jules, a couple from New Zealand volunteering at the hostel for a few weeks, a Dutch man and a South African man volunteering in the area, and a few more people. We ate dinner at the restaurant next door with Jules, talked to the owners a bit, packed our bags and made 12 peanut butter sandwiches, borrowed some warm clothes, and went to sleep early. I talked to Jill (the woman owner) about frustrations with Costa Rica and criticisms of “Eco Tourism” and stuff like that, and she explained how the commercialism and uniformity has even started to seep into Chirripo, one of the most remote places. So, what happens now is that they sell a bunch of reserve tickets in advance that the tour companies buy up as soon as they go on sale. These tour companies offer hiking Chirripo in packages, with meals provided, horses that carry your stuff up to the top, hiking at the pace of a big group, etc. There are only 10 walk-in tickets a day that you must purchase the day before your hike if you want to do it this way and hike on your own. Because of the pull the tour companies have, they are looking to eliminate these walk-in tickets in a few months, and everything will be packaged right up for everyone. This will cut any freedom you will have with your trip and make business extremely difficult for places like our hostel, since they rely on the people hiking Chirripo independently. Our hostel owners were frustrated and worried but are planning on taking this as an opportunity to promote visitors to the local free trails, local crafts, cheese factory, and other small, inexpensive attractions in the area to hopefully retain visitors to their hostel.

            So the next morning we grabbed some home made granola bars and hit the trails a little after six. We had two large and pretty heavy (over 30 pound) bags and one small backpack among the three of us, so we rotated bags every two kilometers. I was booking it, we were all talking, Molly was developing blisters in her shoes that were way too small, and Maria was hiking in running shoes. By the last few kilometers to the refuge we were counting our steps to distract us, it was pouring rain, and the hike was pretty darn steep. When we saw the sign for the refuge Maria actually started crying. That was at the 14.5 kilometer point. We walked in and signed in the book, and the ranger there let us use the hot water showers that were supposed to be only for the workers since we were so soaked and probably because we were a group of girls. We didn’t have any towels so we dried ourselves off with toilet paper. The refuge itself was FREEZING. I was wearing about 5 layers on top and two pairs of socks and a hat and a scarf and my feet were numb and I was shivering. We threw our stuff in the dryer and feasted on our chocolate, trail mix, Oreos, peanut butter, and cereal since we had burned so many calories and hadn’t eaten too much on the way up. We then cooked pasta on the tiny little gas burner we had rented from the hostel, which came out pretty mushy and gross. We then attempted to cook the now mutilated plantain my host parents had sent me up with…it wasn’t too bad. We all felt super sick after eating that much. Also, half of the other group of students made it up about an hour and a half after us, but three hours later, the other two (both in great shape!) still hadn’t arrived. And it was getting dark and there were no vehicles that got up there to be able to go and search for them…so they were going to send someone out to look if they weren’t back in another half an hour, and then they showed up. Drenched to the bone, freezing, and exhausted. We were so glad they were okay. Although the altitude was definitely affecting everyone’s functioning. We went to sleep in our sleeping bags, feeling isolated and beat, at around 6 pm to wake up at 1:40 am to hike the last 5.1 km to the top for the sunrise. We hiked in the pitch dark using flashlights and cheering each other on, making a wrong turn at one point, but luckily Molly got us to turn back. By the way, as we had discovered the night before, Molly’s feet were completely torn up from her shoes. But she was such a trooper. We made it to the top after using our hands and feet to rock scramble the last part. It was so beautiful and so so so cold. Around 30 degrees. Not what we’re used to in Costa Rica. I changed out of my sweaty clothes, got in my fleece lining and my sleeping bag, put on my hat and scarf and torn up gloves, and sat there shivering. The sunrise was amazing, but I am a bum about cold. We went down after about 40 minutes. I am so fine pushing through any pain, moving my body as fast as it can go, encouraging my friends to keep up, but cold is my weakness. Like mother like daughter. There will be no paragraph breaks in this blog post. We took about three hours to get back down to the refuge because we were so content and in the home stretch (or so we thought) and the worst was over (HA) and there were SUCH amazing views. It felt like we were in Lord of the Rings slash on another planet. Seriously amazing. We got back to the refuge, got the rest of our stuff, and continued down. It was much faster than going up and easier to breathe and such but it started raining soon after we started and didn’t stop. It got very muddy, and Molly’s feet got to the point where she started walking in socks. I decided, since my feet felt great, to switch shoes with her (even though my feet are a size and a half bigger than her’s) with about 6 km left. Her feet felt much better, and I was fine walking with half my feet in the shoes for a few kilometers. However, it soon started to hurt unbearably and blisters came so I started shlopping a bit in my wool socks, slipping a lot but doing okay. Molly kept offering to switch back, but my feet were nothing compared to hers. So, after it said 1 km left we traveled at least 3 more kilometers, getting sucked into mud, slipping, in pain, soaking wet, and confused as to where the hostel could be. We had kept such positive attitudes until that last, never-ending kilometer. Back at the hostel (finally!) the lovely Kiwi couple helped us get our stuff into the wash and clean things off. We somehow made it into the shower (hot! Yes!) and hobbled into the kitchen to eat the somewhat flavorless food we had ordered that the couple had so amazingly brought us from the restaurant next door. They helped us figure out the bus for the next day, we discovered my lovely blisters and that half of Molly’s skin was peeled off her feet, and went to sleep a little after 8. We woke up at 5:15 to get in our taxi at 6 (Molly in sandles and Maria and me without shoes on) to the bus station. We had to buy tickets for the 9 am bus because all the rest were sold out or standing room (definitely not doable at that point…) and went to a restaurant dirty (not all of our clothes had been washed), shoeless, and limping, to eat breakfast. It was cheap and the shakes were good, but the gallo pinto was TERRIBLE and the platanos were made out of leather. He asked us if everything was okay so we were honest because we really couldn’t eat the pinto. He then took our plates away and started yelling at us. Ranting that he doesn’t use preservatives and that was why it was different and that he gave us Worcestor sauce instead of Lizano because he doesn’t serve “shit” and blah blah blah. All while he had given us a stick of margarine for the toast and there were shelves of candy and soda…anyway, we paid for what we ate, bolted and ate a delicious meal at a nearby adorable restaurant. Of course I then realized I lost my bus ticket probably int the awful restaurant…And we sent Molly over (the only one who had decent food and had eaten it) to ask about it and of course they told us they didn’t have it. I had to wait in line again, buy another ticket for standing room, and thankfully my seat was still open. So then I eventually hobbled home from the bus and had severe stomach issues (food poisoning from the awful food?) as soon as I got home. It was lovely. But my host mom took care of me with tea and hot water. I still can barely walk-it’s worse when I’m sitting for a long period of time first. It also hurts just to move my legs…and now time to get back into work and plow through all of my final work and settling things for my new apartment next semester!