Okay, okay, so I've only been in Costa Rica for about twenty-four hours. But it's pretty darn bloggable. First of all, it's painfully gorgeous here-- palm trees and all sorts of other green things hanging with fruit. Bright, bright, BRIGHTLY-colored everything--houses, flowers, buses, markets, fruit stands, etc. Holy cow.
The heading of this post, by the way, refers to the name of my taxi driver, from the airport to my hostel. He was my first experience of Costa Rican Spanish, and therefore my friendly reminder that time takes its toll on one's language abilities. I only understood about 60 percent of what he was saying. That included his name-- Camacho Macho. Camacho has 12 kids, and supports them all with the money he makes driving a taxi. You think he was just trying to get a good tip out of me? I went ahead and gave him 2 silver dollars (Thanks, Gregory!). Then he asked if I was going to pay for the ride itself. Oops-- I thought the hostel was supposed to cover it. Luckily I had $20. Costa Rica is expensive!!! Oh, and the local currency is very confusing-- 521 colones to 1 US dollar. Can you imagine how many colones it takes to buy a house here? Yikes! Bajillions.
I sat in a park in San Jose yesterday...overlooking the mountains, and surrounded on all sides by maniacal traffic. It was so peaceful, in its way. And there were so many other folks doing the same thing-- such as the fellow in this picture. Old men, just sitting, looking around, unafraid of the passing of time. No hurry.
Today, I'm off to a farm near Santa Barbara, in the mountains north of San Jose. A friend of a friend is staying there-- Ark Herb Farm (http://1-costaricalink.com/costa_rica_tours/the_ark_herb_farm_tour.htm). Gotta take 2 buses to get there--so I better leave soon. Love to all.
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1 comment:
Oh Andi. How I mourn the fact that we missed each other in Costa Rica by a few measly hours! It's like a bad Sandra Bullock movie. I swear, I stepped out of Comacho's cab, and you stepped in. I took the same picture of that same dude in that same park less than 24 hours before! That bench was still warm!
I'm glad to know that you're heading up to the herb farm to meet el senor Mintz. There's another piece of wistful symmetry there. I was just swimming with him in the ocean on Saturday. I wish I could be hanging with the two of you, but perhaps that would upset the universal balance of latin american adventuring.
This whole thing is cinematic in scope. (and/or I'm having serious vacation withdrawl). Michael and i met in another lifetime, in another spanish subtitled adventure. I introduced him to Tara, and years later, they go on to live together and have all those epic costa rican scrap book moments. Then you and I meet, and I tell you all about Tara, and I go to Costa Rica, and through Tara, contact Michael, then he comes, and we re-establish ties, and then I leave and you come and you two meet to stage your own movie magic...
We're drawing all of these six degrees of Kevin Bacon lines between us. I love it. Now to tie it all up with a bow, I should tell Tara to start writing to you on this blog. And for the big finish we should arrange to get snowed in together at an airport in buffalo while our tender moments are photo montaged and scored with an emotionally ascending, synth-heavy pop song.
Back to work! Blech!
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