A man, a plan, a canal, Panama

So, change of plans. Emily and I are going to Panama tomorrow. The farm situation--fatal (in the Spanish sense, not the English). The owner confused our dates and sent us to her friends' farm for a few days before she'd have room at her own. We (Emily convinced me) decided to persevere and give it a try. Then we got extremely lost trying to find her friend's farm: partially our fault here but also partially hers. We got off in Rivas, where we thought the farm was, then had to walk and hitchhike halfway back to San Isidro. Once we were in the general area, many people misdirected us and we ended up walking up and down a certain hill 4 times, vowing never to continue on to the real farm. Then the owner showed up at the farm we were staying at and tried to bully and guilt us into going to her farm later. It was really unbelievable and aggravating. So, we spent 2 nights at the farm and have now returned to San Isidro (pleeease let this be the last time here!) to plan the voyage to Panama. We have almost no knowledge of the country, so this should be fun!

Chirripó

I'm back in San Isidro (again- it's starting to feel like Cáceres to me), waiting to go to the next farm. Last night was spent in a sketchy hotel where Emily was convinced there were bed bugs. I'm not so sure, as I have tons of mosquito (and other) bites so they all kind of blend together. The adventure to Chirripó was that, an adventure. The hike up, 14 kms strictly uphill, was as difficult as I thought it would be with the altitude. By the end I could barely breathe and it was pouring and extremely windy. Upon arrival at the ranger station/lodge I was soaking and freezing. Emily and I had to rent blankets from the rangers because we (obviously) had come unprepared. I lived in the blanket. The storm got worse through the night, with sideways rain, howling wind. The plan had been to hike the remaining 5 kms to the top that day, but instead we spent it huddled in the common area of the lodge, begging hot water from various groups who had brought camp stoves or gas for the stoves provided (we had neither, of course). Apparently, the storm is the 3rd of its kind in 25 years. What luck. We hiked back to San Gerardo the next day, in light rain and wind in the beginning, and sun at the end. Of course. It was so beautiful and I was angry for most of the descent, thinking about what the view could have been like atop Chirripó. There is next time! Hah, hopefully more prepared, too. The whole experience is ridiculous, to the point of being absurd, and thus hilarious!

La puta gallina

I just finished two weeks at Finca Granadilla Silvestre in Quizarrá. I can't believe the time went so quickly; I've been here in Costa Rica for a month now. Oh, and it's February. Unbelievable. I caught myself wondering if I had ever lived in Seattle--did that happen? Another thought shocked me: everyone, all my friends, family, acquaintances have been living their lives while I've been gone. Obviously. But it hadn't occurred to me. And, could it possibly be winter at home? Seems unlikely.

The farming situation was... hmm. It was a wonderful experience, but definitely not in the way I expected. Emily and I arrived to Quizarrá in the dark, walked halfway to the farm, got a ride for the other half. There was utter confusion when we arrived at the house of Pancho and Rocio, the tico family that takes care of the farm while the rich Canadian owners, Elizabeth and Warren, go between the two countries. We ended up staying in the ticos' cabin, right next to the chicken coup. Basically, we worked 4 hours per day, 4 days per week, starting at 6am. The work was, shall we say, unrewarding. The farm itself doesn't really produce anything to sell, as the shade grown coffee hasn't been producing enough to be profitable. We basically were assigned various tasks to aid in the conservation of the farm and its land (terraces to slow erosion, composting, etc.). Some of the jobs seemed pretty contrived, and it really seems that the farm is funded by WWOOFers. A little awkward. But! The tico family was amazing! Rocio, the mother, is so sweet and patient and hilarious. She would swing by our cabin and teach us to make various tico food: gallo pinto, tortillas, empanadas, plátanos, etc. Basic food was provided: rice, beans, bananas, plantains, oil, sugar, salt, plus whatever came from the garden and we could buy eggs, cheese and milk (from the cow, Tontina). So, there was a lot of experimenting with the limitless food (hmm, should we add some chives, too? dill?). Rocio also showed us how to milk Tontina. Difficult!

The area is beautiful. Quizarrá is in the hills near Chirripó, the highest point in Central America. It's so green, and a lot cooler. The higher hills are constantly shrouded in fog. There are rivers everywhere. One day we hiked up the river to a waterfall. It's incredible. We also spent a lot of time sitting on the porch of the cabin listening to Rocio and her three sons yell at each other, while the youngest, Adrián, abused these puppies. The word "puta" was thrown around a lot...

So, I'm excited to see how the next farm will be. I'm hoping that there is more meaningful farming (by meaningful: productive?) and more to learn. I'd like to improve my milking skills. I'm definitely getting better at dealing with bugs here, as they are a fact of life if your abode is not sealed at all. I only squealed a little this morning when there was a little scorpion (alacrán, love that word) near my bed. I do feel a bit relieved to be staying in a hotel for the night; three stories up and sealed! The next adventure will be an attempt at the summit at Chirripó. Not quite that extreme but Emily and I are going to hike the tallest peak in Central America minus Guatemala or something (it's not saying much) if we can get the reservations. Ought to be funny. I don't know, Corcovado was a success so this should be fine too. Less snakes.

Anyway! I am completely tired of this sweltering internet cafe. I miss everyone! (yes, yes, it's true, once I remembered that everyone still existed.)

Africa tonight

Wow, this country just doesn't stop. Everyone told me how much fun I was going to have.. how did they know? I love it here. Even though the ticos call it "Gringolandia", there seems to be no ill will towards us gringos. Everyone here is so nice, friendly, helpful, and in this way I can't help but compare it favorably to Spain. Constantly. WWOOFing starts tomorrow. I'm currently in San Isidro del General, after a 5+ hour bus ride starting at 5am, from Puerto Jiménez in the Osa Peninsula. I returned last night from Corcovado National Park, where Emily and I had hiked in 20 kms or so to the La Sirena ranger station, stayed in the dorms there for 2 nights, then hiked back out yesterday. The park is absolutely phenomenal. There is so much wildlife everywhere and almost no people or signs of humanity anywhere. Pristine. Most people hire local guides from the area, thus seeing more of the wildlife, but most of the guides were nice and would point things out to us as well. On the hike in I saw several scarlet macaws (beautiful, enormous, loud), coatis (cute, mangy little mammal), spider monkeys. The second night, the ranger and another man who worked at the station took us out in the dark to see what we could see and: 3 tapirs! They were incredible. I've seen them in the zoos before but not from about 10 feet away. They are huge and look so sweet and peaceful eating their vegetation. They didn't even seem to care that we were there. There was also a terciopelo (fer-de-lance) in the station area. Unfortunately, no crazy huge spiders or anything. The hike back was quite funny (I don't know if Emily thinks it's so funny) because we didn't know what we were doing and were misled by the rangers as to what time and where we should cross the river because the tide was at an awkward time. We were told around 5am, at which time the water in the river was up to my chest and I had to hold my bag as high as possible behind me (while still getting it wet of course). Then there was miscommunication between us and it was still dark and.. but we got across. A couple hours of hiking later we had to sit and wait on the beach for an hour for the tide to go down enough for us to scramble over the rocks. Then the colectivo, the transportation from Puerto Jiménez to Carate where we started hiking, was crammed, smelly, bumpy, hot and nearly interminable. It was a long day but definitely hilarious and really enjoyable.

My time in Dominical before going to the park was excellent as well. There were a lot of cool people at the hostal (where we all slept in tents on a balcony, fun!). Beach bumming is the life. I met two ticos who hitchhiked around, scamming tourists (they were probably trying to scam us, we couldn't be sure), with whom we spent several days with, who also taught us how to open coconuts and drink the water and eat them. Delicious. I ended up discussing life, my life, life in general with so many people: an Argentinian, while ducking waves, who had had a nervous breakdown before coming; an American escaping the American dream who completely understood my reasons for leaving, as he shared them too; the ticos who lived on the beach and loved life. I've met so many people here who are doing exactly what I'm doing and it's comforting to here them describe their situation and know that they understand mine without me justifying it. Too much rambling and it's too hot in this internet cafe.

Quickly: Emily and I took a surf lesson, it was exhilirating and so much fun but we failed miserably trying it on our own later. But hilarious. Went skinny dipping in the ocean, what more can you ask for?

Pura Vida

I've been here in Costa Rica over a week now and I can see how some people would stay forever. It's so beautiful and I've already compiled a list of my favorite things: tropical fruit- papaya, mango, avocado- cheap, plus I love all the fruit vendors who think we're funny when we buy fruit and can't tell what it is or if it's ripe; the food in general - rice and beans with some kind of cooked veggies and fish; fruit smoothies of all kinds everywhere; the people- so nice; the pace of life- so laid back; the countryside- beautiful beaches, impossibly green rainforest, mountains; the sun- even though it's incredibly strong, as I am currently nursing a pretty bad sunburn over most of my body, it's nice to have it. I started in the capital, San Jose, for three nights. Unfortunately, most things were closed because it was the end of a national holiday week having to do with the Reyes Magos. It's a relatively ugly city but we had to start somewhere. Getting from the airport to the hostal was about the easiest transition I've ever had and everyone was very helpful in pointing out the way. The first near catastrophe was that I left my debit card in the ATM at the airport and some very nice tico ran after me to return it. Crisis averted: I'm an idiot. All was fine. Then I went to Quepos, on the Pacific coast, another ugly city but a point of access to the Manuel Antonio National Park. I saw monkeys, frogs, red-legged crabs, sloths (!), some weird large rodent thing, iguanas, raccoons.. It was beautiful. I spent two nights in Dominical, about 2 hours down a bumpy dirt road from Quepos. It's a surfing town and Emily and I met a lot of cool people. I haven't had a chance to try to surf yet due to the sunburn but I think we're heading back there tomorrow to try to take a lesson. At first I didn't want to spend the money and was a little afraid of drowning but everyone I met convinced me it was well worth it. I'm currently in Uvita ("little grape") at a pretty cool hostal. We'll try to go to the beach today and I'll try to remember to reapply every 10 minutes or so. I'm loving this country. The travelers are so cool, the ticos are so chill and pretty much everything else is excellent. In a few days Emily and I will brave the Corcovado National Park, which should be extremely funny. Then to the farm!

(it is the Pacific coast, anonymous)

T minus 10 days until I leave for Costa Rica. I'm in Olympia, snowed into the house by a veritable winter wonderland. Always a good time for reflection. I've been thinking about the new year, of course. Where I am now versus where I was a year ago (Lisbon), where I've been, who I am and how I've changed. Recent polls with new acquaintances show me that not everyone reflects in this manner: strange. Or perhaps they don't even reflect at all. But, how else do you learn about yourself? The imminent departure also forces me to think about the last time I left "forever", a little over a year ago. Granted, this is a smaller trip, with less build-up, less unknown, less commitment, less waiting, less ties--entanglements--to home. But it is still leaving for several months to an area of the world I have never visited, to a less developed region with malaria, dengue, typhoid... I feel (as) calm (as can be expected), (moderately) prepared, (generally) focused, (actually really quite) ready. And (oh-so) excited. I'm looking forward to traveling with Emily, who always encourages me to do the dumb thing I want to do because she knows I want to do it and I'll eventually learn from it, and I probably wouldn't listen to her if she told me not to anyway. She also often thinks that the dumb thing I want to do IS a good idea and we do it together. Like this trip...

I've been back in Western Washington for over 4 months now. The time has passed so quickly. I'm fairly sure I'll move back to Seattle when I return, but who knows? Bar some incredible offer or opportunity elsewhere, I will. I think. There is still no reason for me to be anywhere, still liberating and terrifying. I like the city but I need to explore more facets of its culture. I ended up hating my job; not for the job but for the customers. Rich, self-important, privileged yuppies. I've decided that I need a "real" job (read: where I use my degree and receive benefits) when I get back. Yay for the economy! But this is clearly not the time to worry about that. I still need to plan this trip. Everyone has told me to do this "while you can", "while you're young", or, "for me". These have been adults (grown-ups, you know, at least 20 years my senior who envy my complete lack of responsibilities, commitments and obligations). Responses from friends or acquaintances my own age have been more... honest? From "you hippie!" about the farming to dubiety about the entire plan. To "what exactly are you doing down there? Just traveling?" as if traveling to a foreign place must be the means to an end, not the end itself. It upsets me that I still care what other people think. Simply because my plan wouldn't work for them, why can't it work for me? And it can, but their doubts infect me with doubts about myself. I keep telling myself that I will come back and settle down and be happy doing what my friends are doing: more school, "real" jobs, at least working for their ultimate career and life goals. But I have the rest of my life for that! Always going back to the fact that I don't know what I want. And how will I know what I want when I find it? Do I stumble upon something and realize I want it? I don't want to look back at a year and realize I've done nothing. That I've learned nothing and experienced nothing, although many people may say that I've been working towards a career or ... I want to feel as if I'm moving forward toward something. But what? In the meantime, I suppose I'll spend my time doing something I love. I'm hoping this adventure will sate my wanderlust for awhile, at least.

Seattle! The big city

So I'm here, finally. I spent a month between Olympia, Seattle, and Bellingham. But really mostly in Bellingham. I was probably putting off moving here, continuing my life, finding a job, facing the future, etc. So, let's see. I start a new job tomorrow, which is pretty damn quick if I do say so myself--three days here and I'm employed! It's a cafe/roaster that seems serious about its coffee so I'm pretty excited to be involved in it. Turns out, I love making coffee! I've also learned that I suck at Seattle in general. It is by far the largest city I've ever lived in, which makes moving around difficult and confusing. I've executed uncountable illegal traffic maneuvers thus far, with many more to come. I guess I just feel slightly lost all the time, with the complete unfamiliarity of everything. And everyone. It's shockingly different from Bellingham in this regard (as it clearly should be, I understand this). This seems both good and bad; I am aware that there are extremely cool people in this city but I don't quite know how to meet them. But, really, Bellingham began to feel claustrophobic and I realized that I'm done with it for the present. Terrible, as I felt it was the closest thing that I had to a home. Alas! I must make a new home for myself, somewhere. It seems somewhat difficult here.

...because I'm going to Costa Rica in January! From January until ?? Probably about three months but anything could happen. Traveling, organic farming, adventure! Everyone tells me they wish they would have done things like this at my age: before you can't. But, just as I predicted, I do want to leave soon after returning. I have no reason to be anywhere, so I might as well take advantage and travel! This is clearly not the time to get serious about my life!