Cancer is defined as any evil condition or thing that spreads destructively. People can be cancerous, possessions can be cancerous, food can be cancerous, and mindsets can be cancerous.
I have a small family, but we're super close, and I am lucky that most of my family is still alive. I only experienced death once as a kid (that I can really remember vividly), when I lost my Uncle to a cancer, alcohol. In my adult life I have lost a couple of friends to cancers (war and drugs). It wasn't until last year though, that the "cancer" we all know effected me on a personal level.
There is a funny thing about cancer (that's not so funny at all), when it effects you personally, it likes to go big. It likes to cut deep. It likes to test your emotional limits, your faith (in God, or in Nature), and your love. Cancer takes you to this emotional hell that you've never visited before. It plays games with you. It even goes so far as to strip you down so much that you live in a constant fear of its next move.
My first cancer experience was last spring, when one of the people closest to my heart was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She conquered it, and she lives to be one of the most vibrant, successful, and inspiring people I know. A triumph over cancer is about the biggest triumph there could possibly be.
Unfortunately, cancer doesn't enjoy triumphs. It couldn't beat her, but it was sure as heck going to find someone else to beat...taking another cut, cancer targeted my Grandpa in early fall. Up until this point, I knew about leukemia, but I'd never actually experienced it. And here I was, 24 years old, experiencing it for the first time. Grandpa's prognosis was grim, and in the midst of his fight against this cancer, I lost my Great Grandfather to the battle against the clock.
Losing my great grandfather was the biggest loss I've ever experienced. He was the number 2 man in my life, behind only my dad, and I felt like a piece of me died with him. In the days leading up to his death, I feel guilty saying it, but I didn't even think about the cancer that was killing his son, my grandfather. I was concerned only about this frail old man, his character, his warm eyes, and his even warmer smile...
My grandpa is still fighting this beast of a disease inside of him with all of his might, but, the thing about cancer is, it doesn't like you to win. This introduction to leukemia may very well take the last grandfather I have...and to think that six months ago, I hadn't ever even experienced it.
In the midst of the coping with life and death, cancer and age, I was hit again. Last week, my Aunt (the youngest of my dad's sisters), was diagnosed with lung, brain, and lymphatic cancers. Instead of just hitting my aunt with one jab, cancer took shots at all ends. It attacked, Hiroshima style, with absolutely no warning.
My experience with cancer may only be nine months old, it may have hit when I'm old enough and mature enough to understand it, but cancer hit me hard. It gave me no warning. It gave me no weapon to battle with except for love for those fighting it. To have people fighting this giant who I love, who are my family, is one of the toughest things a person can do. The fear that comes with knowing that this disease changes your life in a moments notice is overwhelming. It's impossible to avoid. And, it makes it even more apparent that you can't avoid the inevitable.
I write tonight with a heavy heart. Unable to put into words what I feel, why I feel it, or even why it is that I feel it. I am not experiencing cancer the disease personally, but it is personally attacking me, and cancer as fear is settling into my mindset....
Grandpa Bob and Aunt Robin: I love you all with all of my heart. You've made such a significant impact on my life that "thank you" will never be enough to show my gratitude. I know that I never told you enough...that I didn't put in the effort to know you like I should have, but I want you to know that I love you, and that you're survivors, and this "disease" effects us all. You're not alone. We're all fighting right next to you...
"If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell." -Lance Armstrong
Monday, April 12, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Costa Rica, Days 14 & 15: Carrillo and the return to the States
There is something about flying that is completely fascinating to me. I love every second of it. The exhilaration of take off, the anticipation of landing, meeting strangers from throughout the world and sharing your bubble with them. It's magical, peaceful even, in the oddest way possible.
There is one thing about it that kills me though: looking down on the thousands of miles below you. Ordinarily, I would consider this a pretty awesome thing, to see the whole world from 35,000+ feet, but there are places where I fly over and I get this incredible yearning. If things look the northern reef of Cuba look like this from 35,000+ feet, I can only imagine the beauty of it up close. And if the Rocky Mountains are reaching up for me as I fly over, imagine the solitude and freedom and peace of standing on top of one of the many 14,000+ peaks that makeup America's favorite mountain range, or casting a fly in one of the thousands of creeks that run through the vast wilderness of the Cascade Range ahead.
This picture is painted even more vividly when traveling over the Rockies with dad, who grew up in this mountain paradise, built trails throughout the southern reaches, partied in the dunes. His stories make this view from 35,000+ feet even tougher. He explained the grains of sand in the dunes, how they were all the same exact size, I can only imagine the beauty below me. But, alas, I'm on a plane, looking down on it all, and wishing that instead I was in the middle of it…always wanting what I can't have.
The last two days have been pretty surreal. It's always tough to kiss paradise goodbye. The drive north on the Nicoya is always breathtaking, with the jungle and mountains softly kissing the Pacific Coast beaches with such grace. The scenery of the Nicoya Peninsula just flows in the most perfect way, the rough edges and the softness all blending in to make a stunning and breathtaking image that feels like it was created just for us to enjoy.
Samara seems to have slowed down in the past two weeks, as the summer season draws to an end and people begin to visit less frequently. In Carrillo, the harbor was full of enormous yachts, preparing for one of the biggest sail fishing tournaments in the world. There was not a boat in the harbor worth less than $150k, and they were all over 40 feet, which means they likely had a full time crew to sail the vessels (and the owners likely only fly in for the tournaments). We spent a big chunk of time gawking at the boats, and dreaming of the day when we had one. We also enjoyed our last Costa Rican sunset of the trip, followed by dinner at El Colibri. The steaks were, as always, to die for. And the desert may have been the most incredible thing since sliced bread. I fell in love.
We arrived back in Liberia in plenty of time, and luckily dad had been wise enough to take care of our departure tax upon arrival so lines were minimal. Security in Liberia was once again pretty interesting. Customs didn't stamp my passport, I got through security with water and wearing shoes, while dad had his shells taken out of his carry on.
Liberia is a wide open airport, the best I can do to describe it is a grass hut with big fans and uncomfortable seating, and, as you possibly assume, no air conditioning. Additionally, since its open, people assume that smoking is perfectly permissible (which, legally speaking, it is) which makes it smell like a dive bar on a Saturday night. Less than satisfactory. Upon boarding , our luggage was searched and we were all patted down. Dad had a little coffee in his carry on and they opened it, presumably because it looked a lot like a bag of cocaine, but I really couldn't tell you why for sure…I also can't tell you why dad is always the one to get picked on by airport security, regardless of what country we're in.
We arrived in Miami and walked the ten miles that customs always seems to make you walk (I have yet to figure out why there are miles of corridors before you get to customs, and then everything is stuffed into a ten by ten room in an effort to make everyone uncomfortable as hell while they stand in line for hours…). Unfortunately for us, we chose the wrong passport verification line and ended up behind a family of four who had their passports stolen while in CR and the Customs Agent apparently felt that the documentation from the Canadian government wasn't sufficient for them to be in the airport for an hour while they waited for their connection to Canada. Typical.
This was also the first time that no one looked at our bags (that we know of, will be able to verify once we land safely in Pullman) at all in customs, nor did we have any additional security. This could, quite possibly be because I did the paperwork instead of dad, meaning his security magnet jou-jou was not effecting our trip through US customs.
Now, I'm not sure any of ya'all have ever been to the Miami Airport, but it's pretty much the worst of the worst. It's dirty, and there are A LOT of empty walls. It basically drives me crazy. Add to that the FSA telling us to follow the yellow dots on the floor, forcing me to look at the floor, it could just about make a person in flip flops ill. The food in Miami was even bad, and I mean bad for airport food, which is already pretty bad. Less than desirable experience…give me Detroit, Atlanta, or Dallas from now on, just skip over Miami entirely, please. We finally arrived in Dallas at about 11 last night, and flew out around 7. They did manage to get our hotel room in Dallas right this time though, probably thanks to the angry phone call I made informing them that four people cannot sleep on a king size bed. Apparently I got through to them though….It's been a long couple of days.
Now, we are on the final leg of our journey, a flight from Dallas to Seattle, where we'll connect to Pullman and be home again.
This is my plea, Mother Nature, please be warm. Please let winter be over and backpacking season begin. And, now that I came back to Idaho instead of becoming a gypsy throughout Central America, please make the last bit of Steelhead season rock my world, I really, really, would like that…..
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Costa Rica, Day 13: Goodbye Montezuma, Goodbye Cubaya
Today was our last day on the edge of the Cabo Blanco Reserve, in one of the cutest little towns in Costa Rica.
Rosa, the house keeper, who, amazingly, I have no mentioned yet...I will elaborate momentarily...brought us a rice and beans and cilantro thing early this morning. It was to die for. She's been such a sweet lady despite the ridiculous language barrier (props to google translator, you rock our world). She's been here everyday taking care of the property and cleaning up after us. Could not have asked for a sweeter little lady to have shared our experience with here in Cubaya.
We snorkeled again this morning, and the tide basically kicked our butts. Saw some pretty incredible fish though, and had my most humbling underwater experience, yet. I decided against trying to swim to where I wanted to be, more out of exhaustion than logic, and let the ocean take me where it please. This is not often a great idea, but it worked for me this time around. When you just let yourself float, without movement, the fish get used to your presence and consider you a safety barrier. Usually it's only the smaller fish that swim around you, but I'd been still long enough that the bigger fish swarmed. It was almost magical. There were at least a hundred 8-15 inch fish (I honestly have no idea what they were) all around me. At first I thought it was an illusion, but then I realized they were there. Pretty incredible. Definitely feel privileged to have had that experience.
We went into Montezuma to get a few last things from the vendors and enjoy the town one last time this afternoon. Such a neat town, I really enjoyed it.
This will probably be my last post before returning to the states, as the internet in Carrillo doesn't seem to agree with my computer. I'll update from the airport in Miami or DFW on our final two days.
I can't begin to explain how thankful I am to mom and dad for bringing us on this trip in Grandpa's honor. It was a tribute to him, and the four of us thoroughly made it a worthy one. He was a world traveler who enjoyed getting his feet dirty off the beaten path, he was full of adventure, and he lived every day with so much love. I am blessed to have been in his life, and I am eternally grateful to have experienced Costa Rica again in Grandpa's honor. Love you mom and pops.
Now....to concoct a way to stay here a bit longer....hmmmm....
Rosa, the house keeper, who, amazingly, I have no mentioned yet...I will elaborate momentarily...brought us a rice and beans and cilantro thing early this morning. It was to die for. She's been such a sweet lady despite the ridiculous language barrier (props to google translator, you rock our world). She's been here everyday taking care of the property and cleaning up after us. Could not have asked for a sweeter little lady to have shared our experience with here in Cubaya.
We snorkeled again this morning, and the tide basically kicked our butts. Saw some pretty incredible fish though, and had my most humbling underwater experience, yet. I decided against trying to swim to where I wanted to be, more out of exhaustion than logic, and let the ocean take me where it please. This is not often a great idea, but it worked for me this time around. When you just let yourself float, without movement, the fish get used to your presence and consider you a safety barrier. Usually it's only the smaller fish that swim around you, but I'd been still long enough that the bigger fish swarmed. It was almost magical. There were at least a hundred 8-15 inch fish (I honestly have no idea what they were) all around me. At first I thought it was an illusion, but then I realized they were there. Pretty incredible. Definitely feel privileged to have had that experience.
We went into Montezuma to get a few last things from the vendors and enjoy the town one last time this afternoon. Such a neat town, I really enjoyed it.
This will probably be my last post before returning to the states, as the internet in Carrillo doesn't seem to agree with my computer. I'll update from the airport in Miami or DFW on our final two days.
I can't begin to explain how thankful I am to mom and dad for bringing us on this trip in Grandpa's honor. It was a tribute to him, and the four of us thoroughly made it a worthy one. He was a world traveler who enjoyed getting his feet dirty off the beaten path, he was full of adventure, and he lived every day with so much love. I am blessed to have been in his life, and I am eternally grateful to have experienced Costa Rica again in Grandpa's honor. Love you mom and pops.
Now....to concoct a way to stay here a bit longer....hmmmm....
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Costa Rica, Days 11 & 12: Sunshine and Water
The last two days have been spent in my favorite place--the water.
Snorkeling is a pretty special experience, especially in salt water where you're almost completely buoyant. There is something about the sound the shells make crackling beneath the surface, the movement of the water, and, once you know how to move within the water, the relationship you have to everything in it. Fish will move with you for protection. Octopus will swim by without noticing you. Eels will leave their rock crevices in search of food. It's almost magical to be an outsider in the underwater world and blend.
Aar is officially a spear fishing super star (and spear HOG, may I add...), he's slaying more fish than the locals, and I must say they're pretty delicious. Still only that one yellowfin though...and he attempted to slay some lobster today as well, but to no avail.
Last night we booked it over to Mal Pais after snorkeling high tide so we could watch the sunset. We didn't exactly make it, but "ish". Ate at a local soda and it was excellent. We've discovered on this trip that Costa Rican's make the best guacamole in the world. How we never knew this before, is beyond me. Just know it's amazing.
The drive back across the Peninsula at dark was surely an experience, to say the least. The road seemed narrower, the jungle was dark. There were strange flying objects (at one point Aaron was SURE he saw a three foot flying grasshopper, it was, in fact, a Night Hawk...). Worth it though :)
Went to Cabano today to get some coffee to bring home and get gas for the trip back up to Carrillo on Thursday. I also decided to get another $50 in colones, just in case. I'm not sure I've explained the Costa Rican banking experience to ya'all, but I'll do it now: Guard at the door with a sawed off shotgun drinking a slurpy and laughing with locals. Show him your passport so he doesn't use shotgun on you. Enter. Crazy freaking metal detector/possibly air puffer machine that talks in ridiculously fast espanol that I cannot understand at all. Another guard with hand gun. Pick a number out of stupid machine as if you're at the DMV or Social Security Administration Building. Sit and wait. Locals look at you as if you're a moron and cut in front of you. Finally get to the window. Attendant pretends to not understand any English and forces you to scrape up your pigeon Spanish. Attendant enters your passport information into some system. Sign fifteen receipts. Get ridiculous amount of money (there are 5,440 colones in $1). Walk through swarms of people who think you're a rich asshole of a tourist. Go back through metal detector contraption. Pass sawed off shot gun guard. Breath sign of relief. And this is not me being ridiculous. It's a tedious process. I will never again bitch about going to the bank in the states....for at least a week. I also have no pictures to document this event. I apologize.
Had the fish Aar speared, pasta, salad, and smoked pork chops for dinner tonight. Pretty delicious. Not sure I'm ready to go back to my bachelor diet of easy mac, diet pepsi, and steam fresh veggies.....
Hasta Manana....
Snorkeling is a pretty special experience, especially in salt water where you're almost completely buoyant. There is something about the sound the shells make crackling beneath the surface, the movement of the water, and, once you know how to move within the water, the relationship you have to everything in it. Fish will move with you for protection. Octopus will swim by without noticing you. Eels will leave their rock crevices in search of food. It's almost magical to be an outsider in the underwater world and blend.
Aar is officially a spear fishing super star (and spear HOG, may I add...), he's slaying more fish than the locals, and I must say they're pretty delicious. Still only that one yellowfin though...and he attempted to slay some lobster today as well, but to no avail.
Last night we booked it over to Mal Pais after snorkeling high tide so we could watch the sunset. We didn't exactly make it, but "ish". Ate at a local soda and it was excellent. We've discovered on this trip that Costa Rican's make the best guacamole in the world. How we never knew this before, is beyond me. Just know it's amazing.
The drive back across the Peninsula at dark was surely an experience, to say the least. The road seemed narrower, the jungle was dark. There were strange flying objects (at one point Aaron was SURE he saw a three foot flying grasshopper, it was, in fact, a Night Hawk...). Worth it though :)
Went to Cabano today to get some coffee to bring home and get gas for the trip back up to Carrillo on Thursday. I also decided to get another $50 in colones, just in case. I'm not sure I've explained the Costa Rican banking experience to ya'all, but I'll do it now: Guard at the door with a sawed off shotgun drinking a slurpy and laughing with locals. Show him your passport so he doesn't use shotgun on you. Enter. Crazy freaking metal detector/possibly air puffer machine that talks in ridiculously fast espanol that I cannot understand at all. Another guard with hand gun. Pick a number out of stupid machine as if you're at the DMV or Social Security Administration Building. Sit and wait. Locals look at you as if you're a moron and cut in front of you. Finally get to the window. Attendant pretends to not understand any English and forces you to scrape up your pigeon Spanish. Attendant enters your passport information into some system. Sign fifteen receipts. Get ridiculous amount of money (there are 5,440 colones in $1). Walk through swarms of people who think you're a rich asshole of a tourist. Go back through metal detector contraption. Pass sawed off shot gun guard. Breath sign of relief. And this is not me being ridiculous. It's a tedious process. I will never again bitch about going to the bank in the states....for at least a week. I also have no pictures to document this event. I apologize.
Had the fish Aar speared, pasta, salad, and smoked pork chops for dinner tonight. Pretty delicious. Not sure I'm ready to go back to my bachelor diet of easy mac, diet pepsi, and steam fresh veggies.....
Hasta Manana....
awesome butterfly shot taken by dad...he's amazing.
a little glimpse at what we saw: feels a little like you're in an aquarium, huh?
the coastline from the ridge top above the beach
handle bar hound cow
Mal Pais at sunset
absolutely LOVE my family....this trip couldn't have been any better.
this is the road back to the house from Mal Pais...yikes!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Costa Rica, Day 10: Tidal Shift
We woke up early this morning and headed out. Low tide was early and we wanted to catch it low so we could walk out to Cubaya Island. SUCCESS! Found some more sea glass (score!), and walked around the outer edge of the island to check out what the tide had left behind.
Cubaya Island was pretty neat because on the south side the waves of the Pacific beat against the island and on the north side the waves of the Gulf of Nicoya beat against the island. On the far east side of the small island, the two currents converged. Pretty special thing to see/feel/hear. Truly humbling.
In the interior of the island was a cemetery. Aar and dad had been here with their kayaking guide earlier this week, and Aar told mom and I how some of the people had died. 'This one partied to death, this one rode motorcycles' using his little accent, and, if you know Aaron, you know this is the hardest I would ever consider laughing in a cemetery. Pray that the ghosts of party guy and motorcycle man don't haunt me.
On our way back to the mainland, mom made a new "friend" with a presumably drunk Costa Rican man. It was hilarious...we took pictures of them together, laughed with the man, laughed even harder when dad tried to guess what he was saying ("guapo means grandpa, right?"). It was a lot of fun--and a lot of creepy.
Later we headed to Playa Manchas to snorkel and spear fish. Unfortunately, the ocean was a fury, so it was a little bit of a rough time. We only brought one spear out, and Aar nailed a yellowfin. Which, must I say, was pretty awesome, considering we've been hounding the local fishermen for an "ah-tun" since we arrived, and they haven't had one yet. There were quite a few fish, but, as I said, it was pretty rough (nothing like waves crashing into your snorkel while you're taking a breath). It was a lot of fun though.
More Snorkeling tomorrow, can't wait!! I'm sorry this was rushed, but Aunt Sue was completely hounding me on getting the pictures up (love ya, Sue!). Hasta Manana!
Cubaya Island was pretty neat because on the south side the waves of the Pacific beat against the island and on the north side the waves of the Gulf of Nicoya beat against the island. On the far east side of the small island, the two currents converged. Pretty special thing to see/feel/hear. Truly humbling.
In the interior of the island was a cemetery. Aar and dad had been here with their kayaking guide earlier this week, and Aar told mom and I how some of the people had died. 'This one partied to death, this one rode motorcycles' using his little accent, and, if you know Aaron, you know this is the hardest I would ever consider laughing in a cemetery. Pray that the ghosts of party guy and motorcycle man don't haunt me.
On our way back to the mainland, mom made a new "friend" with a presumably drunk Costa Rican man. It was hilarious...we took pictures of them together, laughed with the man, laughed even harder when dad tried to guess what he was saying ("guapo means grandpa, right?"). It was a lot of fun--and a lot of creepy.
Later we headed to Playa Manchas to snorkel and spear fish. Unfortunately, the ocean was a fury, so it was a little bit of a rough time. We only brought one spear out, and Aar nailed a yellowfin. Which, must I say, was pretty awesome, considering we've been hounding the local fishermen for an "ah-tun" since we arrived, and they haven't had one yet. There were quite a few fish, but, as I said, it was pretty rough (nothing like waves crashing into your snorkel while you're taking a breath). It was a lot of fun though.
More Snorkeling tomorrow, can't wait!! I'm sorry this was rushed, but Aunt Sue was completely hounding me on getting the pictures up (love ya, Sue!). Hasta Manana!
Aar and I on Cubaya Island
momma's new man friend (it's ok, he thinks dad is muy guapo)
local kids in Cubaya. stinkin' cute!
a mom and her little girl, riding between Cubaya and Montezuma
one resident photographer photographing another--thanks Pop.
school of fish around a buoy line
coolest marine fish I've seen yet--pictures don't do it justice
self portrait of me and my temporary pets--these little yellow fish wouldn't leave me!
Scuba Steve, I mean Aaron, with his manly spear and ENORMOUS yellow fin. Nice catch brother--delicious sushi!
open containers in Costa Rica: either legal or not enforced. WIN!
Costa Rica, Days 7,8, & 9: R&R, Waterfalls, Beach Combing, & Tsunami's
Day seven was a whole lot of resting. We decided we needed to go to the SUPER super in Cabano to get some groceries. In the states SUPER means huge--SUPER Walmart means enormously large and you can find anything you ever wanted and then some. Here in Costa Rica SUPER means you can actually get a diet pepsi at the grocery store (miracle!). We did manage to stock up on some fruit, veggies, and the essential, liquor.
On this very same journey, we figured we weren't far from "world famous" Tambor, so we thought we'd cruise on down and check it out. On the way, we decided to get gas, only to find the attendant at the station we stopped at taking a ciesta. He told us to go on. He sure as heck wasn't going to pump our gas in the middle of his ciesta. God, I love this country. Anyway, back to Tambor. It wasn't at all the place we'd imagined, minus the enormous Golf Course with armed guards surrounding it. RIDICULOUS. No wonder it's famous to Americans, it's little America.
Around dinner time we had a little excitement: a friendly little scorpion rearing its little head. Aaron massacred it with a broom stick. Five minutes later a friendly little tarantula reared it's little head. It, to, was massacred. Through all of this there was a bit of freaking out throughout the family. I felt invincible though, after all, I'd already survived a territorial war with a monkey, what were a couple little arachnids going to do?
Day eight the boys took off doing their thing, Rooster didn't want to leave the house, so mom and I took the SUV and headed into Montezuma to check out Montezuma Falls and see what the street vendors had. First off, mom and I, in a car alone, usually equals erratic driving and obnoxiously loud car karaoke. Mix that with two track dirt roads in a foreign country, and it's either a recipe for disaster or a really good time. Luckily it ended up being a really good time, no disaster involved. We hiked into Montezuma Falls, avoided a loco Jamaican, and enjoyed the trickle of a waterfall that was left at the end of summer. Very pretty, but clearly a tourist trap, not our usual forte.
From there we walked through Montezuma, checking out the local artistry and talking with vendors. Found some super neat stuff (bought something for you, Kels--it screamed your name!) including this fun bracelet from a Jamaican man. I hope there is no voodoo spells involved. Unless the voodoo has something to do with winning lottery numbers.
Dad, Mom, Aar, and I made dinner. Fish that the boys guide caught, rice & beans, and salad. Pretty delicious, but not quite as good as the fish mom made the other night or the fish at Coyote Soda. Also had two little lobsters that they caught--pretty yummy. We all need a break from fish though....where's the venison in this country?? Oh yeah, the whitetail is "endangered" here....crazy.
Day nine mom, dad, and I left the house around 630 in hopes of seeing Cocolito Waterfall, a couple hours north, by beach, of Montezuma. This was my mecca.
You know when you're a kid and you go to the beach and there is always a certain "treasure" you search for? My treasure is sea glass. There is something almost magical about what the ocean does to glass to make it this perfect little piece of art. I love how someone else's trash becomes such a treasure...I get almost giddy when I find a different color. Found clear, a couple shade's of blue, a couple shade's of green, and one small yellow piece. Super exciting.
Anyway, our beach walk went through two natural reserves, a whole lot of beautiful beaches, and the forest. It was pretty spectacular.
And then, newsflash, tsunami warning. Being in a semi-peripheral country, on the beach, when a tsunami hits is pretty much the worst case scenario when it comes to being hit by a tsunami. Lucky for us, NOAA was overly prepared, as as we ran like hell up the hill 400 yards when we saw that the wave was coming, it just barely splashed us on our feet, phew. Ok, maybe that's not what happened. Maybe nothing actually happened, but just the "warning" kept us away from the beach for the afternoon. I was safe though, with my arm floaties and my pina colada. Invincible.
For dinner we went american--bbq'd chicked and pasta roni. Pretty delicious. I also finished book number two: "Handle with Care" by Jodi Picoult. Anyway, off to enjoy the sunshine...
On this very same journey, we figured we weren't far from "world famous" Tambor, so we thought we'd cruise on down and check it out. On the way, we decided to get gas, only to find the attendant at the station we stopped at taking a ciesta. He told us to go on. He sure as heck wasn't going to pump our gas in the middle of his ciesta. God, I love this country. Anyway, back to Tambor. It wasn't at all the place we'd imagined, minus the enormous Golf Course with armed guards surrounding it. RIDICULOUS. No wonder it's famous to Americans, it's little America.
Around dinner time we had a little excitement: a friendly little scorpion rearing its little head. Aaron massacred it with a broom stick. Five minutes later a friendly little tarantula reared it's little head. It, to, was massacred. Through all of this there was a bit of freaking out throughout the family. I felt invincible though, after all, I'd already survived a territorial war with a monkey, what were a couple little arachnids going to do?
Day eight the boys took off doing their thing, Rooster didn't want to leave the house, so mom and I took the SUV and headed into Montezuma to check out Montezuma Falls and see what the street vendors had. First off, mom and I, in a car alone, usually equals erratic driving and obnoxiously loud car karaoke. Mix that with two track dirt roads in a foreign country, and it's either a recipe for disaster or a really good time. Luckily it ended up being a really good time, no disaster involved. We hiked into Montezuma Falls, avoided a loco Jamaican, and enjoyed the trickle of a waterfall that was left at the end of summer. Very pretty, but clearly a tourist trap, not our usual forte.
From there we walked through Montezuma, checking out the local artistry and talking with vendors. Found some super neat stuff (bought something for you, Kels--it screamed your name!) including this fun bracelet from a Jamaican man. I hope there is no voodoo spells involved. Unless the voodoo has something to do with winning lottery numbers.
Dad, Mom, Aar, and I made dinner. Fish that the boys guide caught, rice & beans, and salad. Pretty delicious, but not quite as good as the fish mom made the other night or the fish at Coyote Soda. Also had two little lobsters that they caught--pretty yummy. We all need a break from fish though....where's the venison in this country?? Oh yeah, the whitetail is "endangered" here....crazy.
Day nine mom, dad, and I left the house around 630 in hopes of seeing Cocolito Waterfall, a couple hours north, by beach, of Montezuma. This was my mecca.
You know when you're a kid and you go to the beach and there is always a certain "treasure" you search for? My treasure is sea glass. There is something almost magical about what the ocean does to glass to make it this perfect little piece of art. I love how someone else's trash becomes such a treasure...I get almost giddy when I find a different color. Found clear, a couple shade's of blue, a couple shade's of green, and one small yellow piece. Super exciting.
Anyway, our beach walk went through two natural reserves, a whole lot of beautiful beaches, and the forest. It was pretty spectacular.
And then, newsflash, tsunami warning. Being in a semi-peripheral country, on the beach, when a tsunami hits is pretty much the worst case scenario when it comes to being hit by a tsunami. Lucky for us, NOAA was overly prepared, as as we ran like hell up the hill 400 yards when we saw that the wave was coming, it just barely splashed us on our feet, phew. Ok, maybe that's not what happened. Maybe nothing actually happened, but just the "warning" kept us away from the beach for the afternoon. I was safe though, with my arm floaties and my pina colada. Invincible.
For dinner we went american--bbq'd chicked and pasta roni. Pretty delicious. I also finished book number two: "Handle with Care" by Jodi Picoult. Anyway, off to enjoy the sunshine...
exhibit a: scorpion in kitchen
exhibit b: tarantula in bathroom
the gecko's crawl into the paper lanterns at night to eat the bugs, super cute.
Montezuma Falls
"Grande Beach" and not a soul in sight.
this was a rock balancing area about a half hour into the beach hike...the physics of it was incredible, and these "statues" even withstand the tides. pretty rad.
beaches of the future?? I hope not. This is my proof that you all should stop using plastic.
the trail along the beach in the turtle refuge.
my "goldmine" in sea glass :)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Costa Rica, Day 6: Cabo Blanco National Reserve
This morning we woke up early, about seven here (5 at home--eek!), and headed to Cabo Blanco National Reserve. Cabo Blanco is Costa Rica's first national reserve, and takes over the entire southern tip of the Nicoya Peninsula. It was super interesting to see the difference in primary forest and the secondary, or replanted, forest. In the rain forest it works the same as our forests back home--the old growth is enormous and spread out, while the new growth is over crowded and smaller.
Mom and dad made me the sherpa, and I carried the water for our journey of about 8 miles round trip in 90 degree heat. I'd like to continue to tell myself that this was good practice for backpacking season, although backpacking season is still months away, considering the rumors of rain and snow at home.
I saw a slew of wildlife--mostly monkeys, birds, lizards, and butterflies, and a ton of flora and fauna. It was pretty incredible. Even the spiders here are pretty, and I really do hate spiders. They are also incredibly large...so big in fact, that I think they could eat me, but they're still pretty.
Be forewarned, I have LOTS of monkey stories. BUT I will share with you only the top three:
On the trail, we met a few white faced monkey's face to face. Like, literally. One monkey apparently wanted me off his property and shook a stick at me as if he was Rafiki. There was an entire colony though, it was pretty neat, although I was scared for my life (for no particular reason). They were running all around us, swinging from the trees. It was like the bell had just rung for recess as we walked up. We knew we had worn out our welcome when they started throwing things at us (although I'm pretty sure my welcome was worn when that damn monkey shook his stick at me).
As we were walking back we could hear a few howlers off in the trees, we stopped to see if we could spot them, and, waited, in silence, to see if their sounds would help us see them. Then I heard the saddest, most terrible noise as I saw this female with a baby on her back. I'm not sure what the noise was, but I'm pretty sure that she was either in mourning or in pain. The sound made me want to cry. It was so sad. Absolutely heart breaking. She was certainly an emotional lady...I almost hope that there was a reason for her pain, other than PMS. No one likes a PMS-ing monkey.
On the trip back, there was all this commotion in the bushes and I was sure that I was about to see the elusive giant Guinea Pig thing, but then there was this crazy screeching and howling and scariness, quickly followed by a monkey falling from a tree, and a howler monkey going crazy like he was a badass UFC fighter above it. It was INSANE. Who knew that monkey's had turf wars like the bloods and the crypts?! Crazy!
That's really all I have for today. I'm ridiculously sweaty and look like a disaster, and my sunburn has become this disgusting blistering mess. Time to finally jump in that pool....
Mom and dad made me the sherpa, and I carried the water for our journey of about 8 miles round trip in 90 degree heat. I'd like to continue to tell myself that this was good practice for backpacking season, although backpacking season is still months away, considering the rumors of rain and snow at home.
I saw a slew of wildlife--mostly monkeys, birds, lizards, and butterflies, and a ton of flora and fauna. It was pretty incredible. Even the spiders here are pretty, and I really do hate spiders. They are also incredibly large...so big in fact, that I think they could eat me, but they're still pretty.
Be forewarned, I have LOTS of monkey stories. BUT I will share with you only the top three:
On the trail, we met a few white faced monkey's face to face. Like, literally. One monkey apparently wanted me off his property and shook a stick at me as if he was Rafiki. There was an entire colony though, it was pretty neat, although I was scared for my life (for no particular reason). They were running all around us, swinging from the trees. It was like the bell had just rung for recess as we walked up. We knew we had worn out our welcome when they started throwing things at us (although I'm pretty sure my welcome was worn when that damn monkey shook his stick at me).
As we were walking back we could hear a few howlers off in the trees, we stopped to see if we could spot them, and, waited, in silence, to see if their sounds would help us see them. Then I heard the saddest, most terrible noise as I saw this female with a baby on her back. I'm not sure what the noise was, but I'm pretty sure that she was either in mourning or in pain. The sound made me want to cry. It was so sad. Absolutely heart breaking. She was certainly an emotional lady...I almost hope that there was a reason for her pain, other than PMS. No one likes a PMS-ing monkey.
On the trip back, there was all this commotion in the bushes and I was sure that I was about to see the elusive giant Guinea Pig thing, but then there was this crazy screeching and howling and scariness, quickly followed by a monkey falling from a tree, and a howler monkey going crazy like he was a badass UFC fighter above it. It was INSANE. Who knew that monkey's had turf wars like the bloods and the crypts?! Crazy!
That's really all I have for today. I'm ridiculously sweaty and look like a disaster, and my sunburn has become this disgusting blistering mess. Time to finally jump in that pool....
mom and I in front of a "Panama Tree"
pretty spider.
huggin' some tree
white faced monkey
HUGENORMOUS
the ma and pop
la familia.
checkin' out the monkeys.
the southern most point of the Nicoya Penninsula
my muy bonita madre y me
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Costa Rica, Day 4 & 5: Montezuma & Cubaya
Made the drive from Carrillo south yesterday. I had never been south of Punta Islita, so it was almost completely new territory. I was surprised, once again, by the newly paved roads from just South of Carrillo almost all the way to Islita. There were even bridges, culverts, all sorts of modernization that I didn't expect and was almost disappointed to see. How quickly things change. I am happy to report that we still had to do a couple of river crossings ourselves (including the Rio Bongo), and the treacherousness of the roads after the pavement made up for the existence of the pavement in the first place.
Islita still seems to be thriving, and continues to be the one town I've visited in CR that has actually been completely successful thanks to American tourism. The town thrives. I think it's a great example of taking something that could potentially ruin the local way of life, and evolving that way of life to make it work for the people. Everyone has a part in this evolution, even the school children in this town make this amazing art that they sell to the American's to help fund programs for THEM. They've managed to keep this incredibly rich culture without inflating themselves out of work. It's a pretty special example.
As we went south it became pretty obvious that surfing was the pass time of choice in the lower Nicoya. The beautiful surfers of the world all must congregate in this area. Mal Pais seemed like little America, surf shops, massage parlors, the whole works. And a whole lot of beautiful (did I say that already?!). No wonder my boy Tom lives here with his hooker of a wife--it's a hot spot!
The road from Mal Pais to Montezuma was probably the most questionable that I have traveled thus far in CR. Incredibly steep, two track, through the jungle. However, regardless of how treacherous I thought it was, the tiko's still manage to blow my mind--flippin' SEMI TRUCKS on this fourwheeler trail. Incredible.
Speaking of fourwheelers, that's the way to get around, no more SUV's.
Finally arrived at our house outside of Montezuma (in Cubaya, actually). Funny side story about Cubaya...you sing the name...each stressed sound getting deeper CA-BYe-ya. It's like a little mini musical. I kind of dig it. Anyway, the house is amazing. Everything is open, it's far enough off the road, totally gated (so it feels safe). The pool just calls your name (although I still haven't gotten in it), and I have a special little hut all my own across the yard from the rest of the family.
We went to the Super and the fish market when we finally arrived here, and bought some groceries in hopes of avoiding eating out...but by the time we had finished shopping, we felt the need to eat so we went to the Soda next door called "Coyote". Like most Soda's, it's actually someone's house and they've put a few tables outside and they feed you to make a buck. This was the best Soda EVER. First off, they spoke English, which is a plus for me because my Spanish completely sucks. Second, they had the most amazing food EVER. I had a lemon-garlic-butter fish that was to die for. Melt in your mouth good. I probably would have eaten three plate fulls had my judgement not been there :)
This morning I read in a hammock for quite some time, before convincing the family that we needed to get out. The brothers wanted to head out fishing, and the rest of us were eager to check out a couple of falls. As it turns out, the rivers are pretty dry so many of the waterfalls are less than awesome, so we ended up at the beach.
Met the nicest little couple from Michigan....their beach bag was stolen right from under them at the beach. This was my first "theft" experience in CR to date. Turns out their camera's and car keys were in the bag, and, as it turns out, Costa Rican rental car companies never give you a spare. So, we ended up bringing the wife to town to find la policia and call the rental car company for a spare, and leaving the hubbo at the beach to watch the car. In town, we found that there are no police in Montezuma, but we ran across a Costa Rican who spoke amazing English who wanted to help. Two hours later we had broken into the car, the nice midwestern couple had recovered their purse and wallet from the inside, and managed to hire a "tow truck" to bring the car to town so that they didn't have to wait at the beach for the rental agency to arrive with a spare key.
Made dinner at the house tonight--Mahi-mahi, green salad, and rice. Pretty traditional Costa Rican meal. It was to die for....I ate until I thought I was going to explode. YUMMY!
Tomorrow, Cabo Blanco National Reserve....until then, hasta.
Islita still seems to be thriving, and continues to be the one town I've visited in CR that has actually been completely successful thanks to American tourism. The town thrives. I think it's a great example of taking something that could potentially ruin the local way of life, and evolving that way of life to make it work for the people. Everyone has a part in this evolution, even the school children in this town make this amazing art that they sell to the American's to help fund programs for THEM. They've managed to keep this incredibly rich culture without inflating themselves out of work. It's a pretty special example.
As we went south it became pretty obvious that surfing was the pass time of choice in the lower Nicoya. The beautiful surfers of the world all must congregate in this area. Mal Pais seemed like little America, surf shops, massage parlors, the whole works. And a whole lot of beautiful (did I say that already?!). No wonder my boy Tom lives here with his hooker of a wife--it's a hot spot!
The road from Mal Pais to Montezuma was probably the most questionable that I have traveled thus far in CR. Incredibly steep, two track, through the jungle. However, regardless of how treacherous I thought it was, the tiko's still manage to blow my mind--flippin' SEMI TRUCKS on this fourwheeler trail. Incredible.
Speaking of fourwheelers, that's the way to get around, no more SUV's.
Finally arrived at our house outside of Montezuma (in Cubaya, actually). Funny side story about Cubaya...you sing the name...each stressed sound getting deeper CA-BYe-ya. It's like a little mini musical. I kind of dig it. Anyway, the house is amazing. Everything is open, it's far enough off the road, totally gated (so it feels safe). The pool just calls your name (although I still haven't gotten in it), and I have a special little hut all my own across the yard from the rest of the family.
We went to the Super and the fish market when we finally arrived here, and bought some groceries in hopes of avoiding eating out...but by the time we had finished shopping, we felt the need to eat so we went to the Soda next door called "Coyote". Like most Soda's, it's actually someone's house and they've put a few tables outside and they feed you to make a buck. This was the best Soda EVER. First off, they spoke English, which is a plus for me because my Spanish completely sucks. Second, they had the most amazing food EVER. I had a lemon-garlic-butter fish that was to die for. Melt in your mouth good. I probably would have eaten three plate fulls had my judgement not been there :)
This morning I read in a hammock for quite some time, before convincing the family that we needed to get out. The brothers wanted to head out fishing, and the rest of us were eager to check out a couple of falls. As it turns out, the rivers are pretty dry so many of the waterfalls are less than awesome, so we ended up at the beach.
Met the nicest little couple from Michigan....their beach bag was stolen right from under them at the beach. This was my first "theft" experience in CR to date. Turns out their camera's and car keys were in the bag, and, as it turns out, Costa Rican rental car companies never give you a spare. So, we ended up bringing the wife to town to find la policia and call the rental car company for a spare, and leaving the hubbo at the beach to watch the car. In town, we found that there are no police in Montezuma, but we ran across a Costa Rican who spoke amazing English who wanted to help. Two hours later we had broken into the car, the nice midwestern couple had recovered their purse and wallet from the inside, and managed to hire a "tow truck" to bring the car to town so that they didn't have to wait at the beach for the rental agency to arrive with a spare key.
Made dinner at the house tonight--Mahi-mahi, green salad, and rice. Pretty traditional Costa Rican meal. It was to die for....I ate until I thought I was going to explode. YUMMY!
Tomorrow, Cabo Blanco National Reserve....until then, hasta.
Punta Islita's Art Gallery--by kids!
a piece of the artwork (I know, immature, but I couldn't help it!). This is $25 by the way.
Exhibit A: Hound Cow...they must have these in India, they're to cute to eat!
relaxing for a short bit at Playa Islita
iguana at Playa Coyote
the backyard of the house--my hut is in the top right corner.
the main house at Cubaya
Gulfo de Nicoya
dad, being eaten alive by a baby baracuda.
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