So I always think to myself that I might give up something for lent, but I can never think of anything that I actually feel like giving up. It's like that year when my only New Year's resolution was to make New Year's resolutions the next year (I didn't). I'll probably think of something the day before Easter, tell myself I'll write it down later, then not do it.
Anyway, I stayed home from school today. I woke up around four o'clock this morning feeling like the guy from Alien (you know, the one who dies because of the alien living in his stomach; that guy), but I really couldn't tell you why. I haven't had any abnormal foods for the past couple of days, in fact everything I've had since returning from Puerto Viejo has been the same stuff I eat every single day. But regardless, my immune system has failed me yet again, and I am vaguely reminded of how mono once conquered me (see every single entry from last fall, and bow before the power of my ability to complain about stuff for weeks). I don't like being sick. Hopefully tomorrow will be a different story. I can only hope.
So tomorrow we finally finish reviewing old material and get our first fresh stuff in almost two weeks. We begin on the dreaded "subjunctive" tense, which doesn't exactly exist in English, but as far as I can tell is the polite way to give commands that would otherwise be rude. Kind of like the difference between saying "Go away" and "I would like for you to leave, please." At least, that's what I think it's going to be. I don't know for sure, because I haven't learned it yet. I'll get back to you on that one. I'm pretty excited to be getting back into new material; review is nice, because it helps me really get the hang of stuff we've covered, but sometimes it really seems a little unnecessary since it's all stuff that we had covered only a week before. So hooray subjunctive, long live the tense.
Okay, I'm headed back home to see if I can't get some sleep.
-Carmaque
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
Today was kind of a hard day of classes. I got some news yesterday that is by no means bad, but is certainly unexpected and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had a hard time concentrating, and I think out new teacher got a little frustrated with me. I hate that.
So at the end of the day, when all I really wanted to do was speak some English, I couldn't stop thinking in Spanish. Every time I would use a conjuction in my head, it was always in Spanish (case in point, I almost typed "siempre" instead of always, even though that's an adjective and not a conjuction).
But then I remembered my scooter, and all was cool again.
Sorry to be a bit vague today, this entry is kind of more for me to remember than it is for people to read about. I'll be funny again tomorrow, promise.
"No urine a mi pierna y me diga está lloviendo."
-Juan
So at the end of the day, when all I really wanted to do was speak some English, I couldn't stop thinking in Spanish. Every time I would use a conjuction in my head, it was always in Spanish (case in point, I almost typed "siempre" instead of always, even though that's an adjective and not a conjuction).
But then I remembered my scooter, and all was cool again.
Sorry to be a bit vague today, this entry is kind of more for me to remember than it is for people to read about. I'll be funny again tomorrow, promise.
"No urine a mi pierna y me diga está lloviendo."
-Juan
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Today was easily one of my favorite days in Costa Rica so far.
It started around about 5:30 this morning, when the howler monkeys outside of my cabin decided to give me a wake up call a good hour before my alarm was to go off. I wanted to be angry, but then I realized how undeniably awesome it was that there were monkeys waking me up and therefore decided to embrace it. This was followed by my complimentary breakfast; I was expecting cold bread and third-rate jelly, as America has forced me to grow accustomed to, but I was greeted (in German/Spanish/English, which I have decided to call "Englermish") by one of the lodge employees with the question, "How do you like your eggs?" It was closer to "A usted, como le gusto Ihre Eier? Scrambled?" Seriously, they move in and out of languages just like that. They're German immigrants who studied English in school but have lived in Costa Rica for several years. The owner's name is Wolf, which is sweet. Anyway, I got some really good scrambled eggs for breakfast and had a nice trilingual conversation with a couple of the guy's daughters. It was weird.
Moving on, it was pretty rainy this morning, so the beach really wasn't an option for me. However, I did still have my scooter (which still rules, see previous entry), and so I decided I would do some exploring of the area. I packed a few things in my bag (guidebook, passport, camera, iPod, etc.) and headed north.
Upon reaching a fork in the road, with one direction taking me to Cahuita and the other taking me to Panama, I realized that a whole world of possibility had opened up to me. I was only 32 kilometers from the border crossing at Sixaola, and another stamp on my passport was just too much to resist. So I revved up the ol' Yamaha and headed towards Panama. It was still raining pretty hard, though, and the speed limit was 80km/h (50mph), so I was getting pelted with rain and actually started to get a little cold. In Costa Rica, for crying out loud! I'm such a pansy; good thing I have a scooter to keep me macho.
Anyway, about 45 minutes later, the sun came out just as I was pulling into Sixaola. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Luckily there are kids who hang out at the bridge all day long to help tourists like me figure out what we're supposed to do. One of the ninos by the name of Emeriano latched onto me, and I've never been so grateful to have an eleven year old kid following me around. He spoke no English, but he spoke very clear Spanish and he had plenty to say. He pointed out the immigration office to me, helped me figure out which forms to fill out, and then he walked over the river Sixaola with me and provided some nice conversation about the area. Apparently a lot of tourists come through Sixaola in order to get to some area called "Bocas" and do a tour or something that's supposed to be pretty sweet. But there's also a fair amount of college-aged gringos just like me who just want to be able to say that they've been to Panama.
On the other side of the river Sixaola (meaning, in Panama), after paying my exit tax in Colones and receiving my change in dollars (which I don't understand), I went over to the neighboring Chinese restaurant and had a Pepsi. I put my iPod headphones on, turned it to "Panama" by Van Halen and watched some soccer on TV.
Yes. I have listened to "Panama" in Panama. Can you say that?
I finished my Pepsi and walked around town for a minute, and realized that there really wasn't much there. A supermarket, the aforementioned Chinese place, and a candy store were really all that the town had to offer. The main business of the town is pretty much wrapped up in people crossing the border, which is why all of the local kids hang around. As best I as I can tell, there's even a system for it. The 3-7 year old kids walk around shining shoes, the 8-13 year olds guide people through the process of crossing the border, and the 14-17 year olds are the managers of the whole operation, telling which kids to go with which tourists and pointing the shoe-shiners towards the people who look the most gullible. Anybody older than that works directly for immigration, either behind the stamp-desk or guarding the bridge.
So I returned to Costa Rica, walking the 200 or so yards across the footbridge that would take me back to immigration.
Oh, sidenote that I forgot to mention: it is illegal for motor traffic (for the most part) to cross the bridge. All persons must go on foot. Except, of course, for semi trucks. Seriously, just people on foot and semi trucks. I don't understand it, but that's the way it is. The road is EXACTLY the right width for one semi truck and one person. But not a fat person. Only skinny people can cross this bridge without fearing for their safety. Okay, end of sidenote.
By the time I had gone through both sides of immigration again, the sun was out in full force and it was about 1:00. I figured that meant that it was about time for me to be at the beach. I hopped on my hog (conveniently parked next to an orange juice tienda, which had some of the best juice I have ever had in my life that was purchased in exchange for the parking privileges) and headed back to Puerto Viejo.
The drive back was glorious. The sun was on my face and the scenery was alternating between banana plantations and rainforest the whole way. At one point, I couldn't help grinning. Then a fly flew into my teeth. I stopped grinning after that, but I still felt pretty good.
About forty minutes later, I got back to town and continued heading south. The best beaches around here, apparently, are very isolated. The only road that goes to them was only paved in the past couple of years, so they aren't yet feeling the strain of tourism and have retained much of their original beauty. And man, what beauty. It wasn't white sands and turquoise water, like you might find in Cancun or something like that, but it was definitely some of the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. Undisturbed jungle for miles, with the only eyesores around being the sixty-year-old men wearing speedos ("banana hammocks") who occasionally pass by. Aside from them, t was fantastic.
I got a little hungry, so in the southernmost village I could access with Growling Thunder (my scooter), I decided it was high time I had more seafood. Manzanillo, the village I was in, is apparently known for having some fantastic Caribbean seafood, so I ordered a whole grilled fish. Seriously, that was what my waiter (who was black and spoke very good Spanish with a Jamaican accent) recommended to me. Outrageous how good it was. I love the food in this area.
I spent the rest of the daylight hours working my way up the twenty kilometers or so of beaches in search of some of the most beautiful stretches on which to get some photos and maybe catch some sun. Once the sun had gone down, it was (of course) time for supper.
This was easily the best meal I've had yet, if not in Puerto Viejo then in all of Costa Rica. This village, in addition to being known for its seafood and its surfing, is very well known for the Italian immigrants who have settled down here. Italians everywhere. Italian food everywhere. I picked a restaurant that was right on the beach (Amimodo, if you're curious) and watched the last rays of daylight disappear while I perused the menu.
Get this: lobster ravioli. Outrageously good. I finished so quickly I think my waitress thought I had spilled it or something. I had never had lobster before, mostly because every time I thought I would have it I would look my lobster in the eye and realize that I simply couldn't sentence him to whatever fate my stomach would decide for him. This is why my food shouldn't have eyes while it's on my plate. Luckily, ravioli has no eyes, and thus I had the culinary experience of my year. Brilliant.
So tomorrow I have to leave around 11:00 in the morning to return to San José. If it rains again (which it probably will) I won't make it back to the beach, but I'll have had a good time here anyway. Either way, I've got seven or eight pictures I'll be posting either tomorrow or Monday, so we'll have some good times then. Hasta Luego.
"No hay motos aqui."
-Juan
It started around about 5:30 this morning, when the howler monkeys outside of my cabin decided to give me a wake up call a good hour before my alarm was to go off. I wanted to be angry, but then I realized how undeniably awesome it was that there were monkeys waking me up and therefore decided to embrace it. This was followed by my complimentary breakfast; I was expecting cold bread and third-rate jelly, as America has forced me to grow accustomed to, but I was greeted (in German/Spanish/English, which I have decided to call "Englermish") by one of the lodge employees with the question, "How do you like your eggs?" It was closer to "A usted, como le gusto Ihre Eier? Scrambled?" Seriously, they move in and out of languages just like that. They're German immigrants who studied English in school but have lived in Costa Rica for several years. The owner's name is Wolf, which is sweet. Anyway, I got some really good scrambled eggs for breakfast and had a nice trilingual conversation with a couple of the guy's daughters. It was weird.
Moving on, it was pretty rainy this morning, so the beach really wasn't an option for me. However, I did still have my scooter (which still rules, see previous entry), and so I decided I would do some exploring of the area. I packed a few things in my bag (guidebook, passport, camera, iPod, etc.) and headed north.
Upon reaching a fork in the road, with one direction taking me to Cahuita and the other taking me to Panama, I realized that a whole world of possibility had opened up to me. I was only 32 kilometers from the border crossing at Sixaola, and another stamp on my passport was just too much to resist. So I revved up the ol' Yamaha and headed towards Panama. It was still raining pretty hard, though, and the speed limit was 80km/h (50mph), so I was getting pelted with rain and actually started to get a little cold. In Costa Rica, for crying out loud! I'm such a pansy; good thing I have a scooter to keep me macho.
Anyway, about 45 minutes later, the sun came out just as I was pulling into Sixaola. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Luckily there are kids who hang out at the bridge all day long to help tourists like me figure out what we're supposed to do. One of the ninos by the name of Emeriano latched onto me, and I've never been so grateful to have an eleven year old kid following me around. He spoke no English, but he spoke very clear Spanish and he had plenty to say. He pointed out the immigration office to me, helped me figure out which forms to fill out, and then he walked over the river Sixaola with me and provided some nice conversation about the area. Apparently a lot of tourists come through Sixaola in order to get to some area called "Bocas" and do a tour or something that's supposed to be pretty sweet. But there's also a fair amount of college-aged gringos just like me who just want to be able to say that they've been to Panama.
On the other side of the river Sixaola (meaning, in Panama), after paying my exit tax in Colones and receiving my change in dollars (which I don't understand), I went over to the neighboring Chinese restaurant and had a Pepsi. I put my iPod headphones on, turned it to "Panama" by Van Halen and watched some soccer on TV.
Yes. I have listened to "Panama" in Panama. Can you say that?
I finished my Pepsi and walked around town for a minute, and realized that there really wasn't much there. A supermarket, the aforementioned Chinese place, and a candy store were really all that the town had to offer. The main business of the town is pretty much wrapped up in people crossing the border, which is why all of the local kids hang around. As best I as I can tell, there's even a system for it. The 3-7 year old kids walk around shining shoes, the 8-13 year olds guide people through the process of crossing the border, and the 14-17 year olds are the managers of the whole operation, telling which kids to go with which tourists and pointing the shoe-shiners towards the people who look the most gullible. Anybody older than that works directly for immigration, either behind the stamp-desk or guarding the bridge.
So I returned to Costa Rica, walking the 200 or so yards across the footbridge that would take me back to immigration.
Oh, sidenote that I forgot to mention: it is illegal for motor traffic (for the most part) to cross the bridge. All persons must go on foot. Except, of course, for semi trucks. Seriously, just people on foot and semi trucks. I don't understand it, but that's the way it is. The road is EXACTLY the right width for one semi truck and one person. But not a fat person. Only skinny people can cross this bridge without fearing for their safety. Okay, end of sidenote.
By the time I had gone through both sides of immigration again, the sun was out in full force and it was about 1:00. I figured that meant that it was about time for me to be at the beach. I hopped on my hog (conveniently parked next to an orange juice tienda, which had some of the best juice I have ever had in my life that was purchased in exchange for the parking privileges) and headed back to Puerto Viejo.
The drive back was glorious. The sun was on my face and the scenery was alternating between banana plantations and rainforest the whole way. At one point, I couldn't help grinning. Then a fly flew into my teeth. I stopped grinning after that, but I still felt pretty good.
About forty minutes later, I got back to town and continued heading south. The best beaches around here, apparently, are very isolated. The only road that goes to them was only paved in the past couple of years, so they aren't yet feeling the strain of tourism and have retained much of their original beauty. And man, what beauty. It wasn't white sands and turquoise water, like you might find in Cancun or something like that, but it was definitely some of the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. Undisturbed jungle for miles, with the only eyesores around being the sixty-year-old men wearing speedos ("banana hammocks") who occasionally pass by. Aside from them, t was fantastic.
I got a little hungry, so in the southernmost village I could access with Growling Thunder (my scooter), I decided it was high time I had more seafood. Manzanillo, the village I was in, is apparently known for having some fantastic Caribbean seafood, so I ordered a whole grilled fish. Seriously, that was what my waiter (who was black and spoke very good Spanish with a Jamaican accent) recommended to me. Outrageous how good it was. I love the food in this area.
I spent the rest of the daylight hours working my way up the twenty kilometers or so of beaches in search of some of the most beautiful stretches on which to get some photos and maybe catch some sun. Once the sun had gone down, it was (of course) time for supper.
This was easily the best meal I've had yet, if not in Puerto Viejo then in all of Costa Rica. This village, in addition to being known for its seafood and its surfing, is very well known for the Italian immigrants who have settled down here. Italians everywhere. Italian food everywhere. I picked a restaurant that was right on the beach (Amimodo, if you're curious) and watched the last rays of daylight disappear while I perused the menu.
Get this: lobster ravioli. Outrageously good. I finished so quickly I think my waitress thought I had spilled it or something. I had never had lobster before, mostly because every time I thought I would have it I would look my lobster in the eye and realize that I simply couldn't sentence him to whatever fate my stomach would decide for him. This is why my food shouldn't have eyes while it's on my plate. Luckily, ravioli has no eyes, and thus I had the culinary experience of my year. Brilliant.
So tomorrow I have to leave around 11:00 in the morning to return to San José. If it rains again (which it probably will) I won't make it back to the beach, but I'll have had a good time here anyway. Either way, I've got seven or eight pictures I'll be posting either tomorrow or Monday, so we'll have some good times then. Hasta Luego.
"No hay motos aqui."
-Juan
Friday, February 24, 2006
One more weekend at the beach. Life is hard.
This weekend I am on the southern Caribbean coast, in the vicinity of Puerto Viejo. It's just me this week, as Bryan is saving some money for the snowboarding trip and therefore does not want to have to pay for a hotel and such. I understand completely, but I had to come down here; from everything I've heard, the two beaches south of here are some of the most beauiful on this entire coast. I'll be sure to let you know for sure after I've experienced them firsthand.
Today, I decided that I want a motorcycle in the worst way. My hotel is a few kilometers south of Puerto Viejo itself, so my options were either to walk, get a free bike from one of the places around town, or rent a moped from the shop right next to the bus stop. Of course I opted for the kickass moped. Don't make fun, it's awesome, and all the ladies love it. Or at least they would if they had time to notice me as I zoomed by them at breakneck speeds of up to 40km/h (26 miles per hour). Anyway, it rules and you're probably wishing you were me right now, and you're right to do so. But enough about me and how much I rule while I am on my moped, we must discuss other things.
After checking into my hotel today, I was informed that there was to be a volleyball game on the beach in about ten minutes. This made my day. Of course I went to join; however, my day was quickly un-made as I realized I had gotten myself into a hyper-competitive game of old gringo men who aren't very good versus young Ticos who probably play professionally. I got put on the old man team. And they really weren't very good. They kept getting mad at me for missing blocks and not diving properly, and at first I convinced myself that I was horrible, but then I started paying attention and I realized I was one of only two people on our team who consistently scored points for our team. Then I felt better. Anyway, I don't think I'll be joining tomorrow's game.
Once the volleyball thrashing had ended, I got on my moped (re: motorized throne) and headed for a little Italian restaurant about 2 kilos north of my lodge. I had been told that this was the place to go in town for great cuisine, but even knowing that I was still astonished. I didn't want to be too gringo-like and simply order a pizza or something, so I asked my waitress what was "el mejor" (the best) food to get tonight, and she quickly told me to go for the marlin. Or as those of us who aren't from Florida call them, swordfish. I was informed that the swordfish had been caught earlier that day.
Outstanding. I believe that's all that needs to be said. If you're ever in Costa Rica, go to Puerto Viejo, go to La Pecora Nera, and order the Marlin. It is, as I have just decided to say, "Knock You Off Your Awesome Scooter" good.
So now here I sit, in an internet cafe across from the local club, typing journal entries for all to enjoy. But that, I'm afraid must come to an end, because I believe I shall go and make a few new friends at the club before taking my peashooting crotch rocket back to my awe-inspiring hotel.
Oh, and there's howler monkeys living outside my cabin again. Those guys are everywhere. Silly monkeys.
"Habla espanol? Really?"
-Juan
This weekend I am on the southern Caribbean coast, in the vicinity of Puerto Viejo. It's just me this week, as Bryan is saving some money for the snowboarding trip and therefore does not want to have to pay for a hotel and such. I understand completely, but I had to come down here; from everything I've heard, the two beaches south of here are some of the most beauiful on this entire coast. I'll be sure to let you know for sure after I've experienced them firsthand.
Today, I decided that I want a motorcycle in the worst way. My hotel is a few kilometers south of Puerto Viejo itself, so my options were either to walk, get a free bike from one of the places around town, or rent a moped from the shop right next to the bus stop. Of course I opted for the kickass moped. Don't make fun, it's awesome, and all the ladies love it. Or at least they would if they had time to notice me as I zoomed by them at breakneck speeds of up to 40km/h (26 miles per hour). Anyway, it rules and you're probably wishing you were me right now, and you're right to do so. But enough about me and how much I rule while I am on my moped, we must discuss other things.
After checking into my hotel today, I was informed that there was to be a volleyball game on the beach in about ten minutes. This made my day. Of course I went to join; however, my day was quickly un-made as I realized I had gotten myself into a hyper-competitive game of old gringo men who aren't very good versus young Ticos who probably play professionally. I got put on the old man team. And they really weren't very good. They kept getting mad at me for missing blocks and not diving properly, and at first I convinced myself that I was horrible, but then I started paying attention and I realized I was one of only two people on our team who consistently scored points for our team. Then I felt better. Anyway, I don't think I'll be joining tomorrow's game.
Once the volleyball thrashing had ended, I got on my moped (re: motorized throne) and headed for a little Italian restaurant about 2 kilos north of my lodge. I had been told that this was the place to go in town for great cuisine, but even knowing that I was still astonished. I didn't want to be too gringo-like and simply order a pizza or something, so I asked my waitress what was "el mejor" (the best) food to get tonight, and she quickly told me to go for the marlin. Or as those of us who aren't from Florida call them, swordfish. I was informed that the swordfish had been caught earlier that day.
Outstanding. I believe that's all that needs to be said. If you're ever in Costa Rica, go to Puerto Viejo, go to La Pecora Nera, and order the Marlin. It is, as I have just decided to say, "Knock You Off Your Awesome Scooter" good.
So now here I sit, in an internet cafe across from the local club, typing journal entries for all to enjoy. But that, I'm afraid must come to an end, because I believe I shall go and make a few new friends at the club before taking my peashooting crotch rocket back to my awe-inspiring hotel.
Oh, and there's howler monkeys living outside my cabin again. Those guys are everywhere. Silly monkeys.
"Habla espanol? Really?"
-Juan
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
If you do not want to read in Spanish, you might want to skip to the end.
-----
Este es mi primero tratado escribir una historia in mi "blog" solamente en español. Mi grammar posiblamente va a estar mal, pero yo voy a tratar. Si alguien se hablaba español muy bien y leia este, por favor coregame. Yo quiero estar mejor a español que otras gringos, asi quiero estar coregido. Solo asi ustedes pueden mejor el situaccion, yo lo estoy haciendo sin un diccionario. Entonces es dificil para mi.
Esta mañana, yo me levanta a las 7:40 a.m. y me vesti. Entonces, yo camine a la parada del autobus y llega a la escuela a las 8:20 a.m. Yo tomo un siesta pequeño antes de comemzaron las clases. Hoy es un buen dia. Hace mucho sol, y no hay mucho nubes. Me encanta la clima de Costa Rica, porque es muy agradable.
En los clases, Bryan y yo no aprendimos mucho hoy, pero nosotros hablamos con nuestro profesora mucho en español. Mas practica esta bien para aprender, y asi nosotros practicamos con frequencia. Hoy aprendimos tres or quatro frases tipica de Costa Rica, por ejemplo “Estoy detras un palo“ (I am behind a tree). Me cae bien nuestro profesora, porque ella muestre nosotros como se dice cosas como los Ticos.
-----
Okay, that's enough for now. I'm out of class for the day, and that's quite a bit of thinking to do while I'm trying to scarf my pizza at the restaurant I'm sitting in. I have no idea how well that will translate online, because I am lacking several very important keys on my English-layout keyboard. Most notably, the vowels with accents. For this reason, many of my verbs will not translate, most notably any use of past imperfect verbs (in English, "would do" or "used to do", or hypothetical situation verbs). As I said before, I did that without a dictionary or consulting my notebook, so there are likely several grammatical errors, and so a translation might not make much sense. But if a Tico were to read it, they would know why I was trying to say, and after only six weeks of Spanish in my entire life, I'd say that's quite the accomplishment.
"Fijame!"
-Juan
--
ps
I have read the Babelfish translation, and it is horrible. Trust me, my spanish is better than that, I'm just using a few idiomatic phrases that are not being picked up by the tranlator here and there, and it's adding unnecessary prepositions like crazy. Good luck with that translation, but again, please understand: it's not even close. This is one of the disadvantages of learning from Native Speakers: many of the things I say and understand only make sense when they are used in exactly the right context. I don't get up: I levitate from my bed. I don't get dressed, I myself put my clothes on me. I don't forget things, they forget to come with me. In Spanish, you don't do anything. Everything just kind of happens to you.
-----
Este es mi primero tratado escribir una historia in mi "blog" solamente en español. Mi grammar posiblamente va a estar mal, pero yo voy a tratar. Si alguien se hablaba español muy bien y leia este, por favor coregame. Yo quiero estar mejor a español que otras gringos, asi quiero estar coregido. Solo asi ustedes pueden mejor el situaccion, yo lo estoy haciendo sin un diccionario. Entonces es dificil para mi.
Esta mañana, yo me levanta a las 7:40 a.m. y me vesti. Entonces, yo camine a la parada del autobus y llega a la escuela a las 8:20 a.m. Yo tomo un siesta pequeño antes de comemzaron las clases. Hoy es un buen dia. Hace mucho sol, y no hay mucho nubes. Me encanta la clima de Costa Rica, porque es muy agradable.
En los clases, Bryan y yo no aprendimos mucho hoy, pero nosotros hablamos con nuestro profesora mucho en español. Mas practica esta bien para aprender, y asi nosotros practicamos con frequencia. Hoy aprendimos tres or quatro frases tipica de Costa Rica, por ejemplo “Estoy detras un palo“ (I am behind a tree). Me cae bien nuestro profesora, porque ella muestre nosotros como se dice cosas como los Ticos.
-----
Okay, that's enough for now. I'm out of class for the day, and that's quite a bit of thinking to do while I'm trying to scarf my pizza at the restaurant I'm sitting in. I have no idea how well that will translate online, because I am lacking several very important keys on my English-layout keyboard. Most notably, the vowels with accents. For this reason, many of my verbs will not translate, most notably any use of past imperfect verbs (in English, "would do" or "used to do", or hypothetical situation verbs). As I said before, I did that without a dictionary or consulting my notebook, so there are likely several grammatical errors, and so a translation might not make much sense. But if a Tico were to read it, they would know why I was trying to say, and after only six weeks of Spanish in my entire life, I'd say that's quite the accomplishment.
"Fijame!"
-Juan
--
ps
I have read the Babelfish translation, and it is horrible. Trust me, my spanish is better than that, I'm just using a few idiomatic phrases that are not being picked up by the tranlator here and there, and it's adding unnecessary prepositions like crazy. Good luck with that translation, but again, please understand: it's not even close. This is one of the disadvantages of learning from Native Speakers: many of the things I say and understand only make sense when they are used in exactly the right context. I don't get up: I levitate from my bed. I don't get dressed, I myself put my clothes on me. I don't forget things, they forget to come with me. In Spanish, you don't do anything. Everything just kind of happens to you.
Monday, February 20, 2006
I have received some horrible news.
Juan's Mountain Sports is closing.
This was the best snowboard rental shop I have ever encountered. Great service, amazing prices, knowledgeable personnel... this is terrible.
We'll miss you, Juan.
-Juan
Juan's Mountain Sports is closing.
This was the best snowboard rental shop I have ever encountered. Great service, amazing prices, knowledgeable personnel... this is terrible.
We'll miss you, Juan.
-Juan
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The cafe is closing now, so I must be brief.
The beach was awesome. I did surf, and I did get up on the board on my first day, thanks to the amazing Bob Clarke and his fantastic pedagogy. I got no pictures of it, because I was in the water surfing and had no time to photograph myself while the ocean beat the crap out of me.
However, here are the rest of the pictures.
Costa Rica - Dominical
"Pay attention, Juan."
-Juan
The beach was awesome. I did surf, and I did get up on the board on my first day, thanks to the amazing Bob Clarke and his fantastic pedagogy. I got no pictures of it, because I was in the water surfing and had no time to photograph myself while the ocean beat the crap out of me.
However, here are the rest of the pictures.
Costa Rica - Dominical
"Pay attention, Juan."
-Juan
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Sorry about the length of time between updates, I just really haven't had much to say lately. There's been class, there's been pool at El Coco, and that's really about it.
Today, though, I am in Dominical. Dominical is a beach on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, and our timing for getting here couldn't have been more perfect. The sun here sets very early, you see, I'm assuming because of the proximity to the equator (9 degrees north latitude, if you were interested), and also because there are mountains everywhere that the sun will often sink behind very quickly. So after taking buses for most of the day through the mid-southwestern part of Costa Rica, we got a Taxi in a city called San Isidro for the final 40 kilos to Dominical. As we were driving, we noticed the sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains, providing one of the most fantastic views I have ever seen (I know I've been using a lot of majorative language in my posts lately, but that's just because this country really is that beautiful).
Then, after watching the sunset behind the mountains, our taxi got past the last of the mountains and the road we were on opened up right onto the beach. So then we got to watch the sun set a second time, only this time over the ocean. Outstanding.
Along out journey yesterday, we met a new friend who calls himself "Jammin' Jim." He's an entertainer in Aspen who's taking some time off to do some backpacking in Costa Rica. Very cool guy. Here's his website, if you're interested:
Jammin' Juggling
So today I woke up pretty early while Bryan and Pete were asleep and went to swim in the ocean for a little bit; very cool. I'm not a fan of saltwater, really, but swimming in the ocean is just good times. I've thought about renting a surfboard and trying my hand at surfing, since everybody who sees me lately just kind of assumes I'm a surfer anyhow (long hair, fairly decent tan, good grammar but unusual language, and of course the baggy shorts). We'll see.
That's all for now. I'm sure there will be pictures eventually.
Listening to - Breakdown by Jack Johnson
Today, though, I am in Dominical. Dominical is a beach on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, and our timing for getting here couldn't have been more perfect. The sun here sets very early, you see, I'm assuming because of the proximity to the equator (9 degrees north latitude, if you were interested), and also because there are mountains everywhere that the sun will often sink behind very quickly. So after taking buses for most of the day through the mid-southwestern part of Costa Rica, we got a Taxi in a city called San Isidro for the final 40 kilos to Dominical. As we were driving, we noticed the sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains, providing one of the most fantastic views I have ever seen (I know I've been using a lot of majorative language in my posts lately, but that's just because this country really is that beautiful).
Then, after watching the sunset behind the mountains, our taxi got past the last of the mountains and the road we were on opened up right onto the beach. So then we got to watch the sun set a second time, only this time over the ocean. Outstanding.
Along out journey yesterday, we met a new friend who calls himself "Jammin' Jim." He's an entertainer in Aspen who's taking some time off to do some backpacking in Costa Rica. Very cool guy. Here's his website, if you're interested:
Jammin' Juggling
So today I woke up pretty early while Bryan and Pete were asleep and went to swim in the ocean for a little bit; very cool. I'm not a fan of saltwater, really, but swimming in the ocean is just good times. I've thought about renting a surfboard and trying my hand at surfing, since everybody who sees me lately just kind of assumes I'm a surfer anyhow (long hair, fairly decent tan, good grammar but unusual language, and of course the baggy shorts). We'll see.
That's all for now. I'm sure there will be pictures eventually.
Listening to - Breakdown by Jack Johnson
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Happy Valentine's Day, everybody. Or rather, Feliz Dia de Amor, ustedes.
A few of us from the school who either lack significant others or simply have significant others who are far, far away are getting together for dinner at the Tex-Mex restaurant later today. Should be a fun evening, assuming there are no couples nearby. It's kind a gringo joint, though, so there's a good chance there won't be. But who can say for sure? Yo no lo se.
"Nosotros traemos el diente."
-Juan
A few of us from the school who either lack significant others or simply have significant others who are far, far away are getting together for dinner at the Tex-Mex restaurant later today. Should be a fun evening, assuming there are no couples nearby. It's kind a gringo joint, though, so there's a good chance there won't be. But who can say for sure? Yo no lo se.
"Nosotros traemos el diente."
-Juan
Sunday, February 12, 2006
I did just about the coolest thing EVER last night.
After returning to the lodge, we decided to take another night walk now that we had seen everything in the day. We headed out to the best view we had seen during the day, the one right on the continental divide. What we saw there is something I don't think I'll ever forget.
You see, most of yesterday, we had jokingly bemoaned the fact that the cloud forest wasn't cloudly at all. We had really kind of lucked out, in that we got to see the forest on one of the few days of the year when it wasn't completely shrouded in mist, allowing for maximum visibility. In fact, you couldn't even call the day "partly cloudy." It was as clear as a summer day in Waco. This allowed for some spectacular scenery during the day, but the real show came during the story I have just finished interrupting and to which I will now return.
The moon was almost full last night, and there were still no clouds in the sky, so we were able to get to the divide pretty quickly and easily. It was about a 2km walk, and we only had to use the flashlight for a stretch near the beginning when our eyes were still adjusting. When we got there, we turned west towards the Atlantic, and saw a gigantic wall of clouds creeping its way towards us. The wind was howling through the valley directly in front of us and blasting us in the face. It was quite possibly the coldest I've been since leaving Colorado in January.
The wall of clouds moved through the valley, and crept its way up the hill in front of us. We ran over to the other side of the peak we were on and watched as what had only moments before been a clear and cloudless night turn into some of the densest fog I have ever seen. The clouds moved like waves in the ocean, rolling over one another and being pushed about by the wind, before settling into the forest and remaining there for the rest of the night. We watched this happen for what felt like five minutes but turned out to be closer to thirty, running back and forth from west to east and watching the process repeat time after time until the forest was no longer visible from where we stood. By the time we went inside, we had all come to the conclusion that we would likely never again have the opportunity to see what we had seen, and that we were privileged folks indeed. Undoubtedly the single coolest experience since coming to Costa Rica, and I have a hard time thinking of anything that might top it.
Meanwhile, Pete, who didn't go with us, had been locked out of the room in only a towel and had spent the entire hour we were gone trying to find a way back in. Oops.
So I'm back in Santa Ana, safe and sound, and here are the pictures I promised. Enjoy.
Costa Rica Pictures, Part Deux
Es la verdad.
-Juan
After returning to the lodge, we decided to take another night walk now that we had seen everything in the day. We headed out to the best view we had seen during the day, the one right on the continental divide. What we saw there is something I don't think I'll ever forget.
You see, most of yesterday, we had jokingly bemoaned the fact that the cloud forest wasn't cloudly at all. We had really kind of lucked out, in that we got to see the forest on one of the few days of the year when it wasn't completely shrouded in mist, allowing for maximum visibility. In fact, you couldn't even call the day "partly cloudy." It was as clear as a summer day in Waco. This allowed for some spectacular scenery during the day, but the real show came during the story I have just finished interrupting and to which I will now return.
The moon was almost full last night, and there were still no clouds in the sky, so we were able to get to the divide pretty quickly and easily. It was about a 2km walk, and we only had to use the flashlight for a stretch near the beginning when our eyes were still adjusting. When we got there, we turned west towards the Atlantic, and saw a gigantic wall of clouds creeping its way towards us. The wind was howling through the valley directly in front of us and blasting us in the face. It was quite possibly the coldest I've been since leaving Colorado in January.
The wall of clouds moved through the valley, and crept its way up the hill in front of us. We ran over to the other side of the peak we were on and watched as what had only moments before been a clear and cloudless night turn into some of the densest fog I have ever seen. The clouds moved like waves in the ocean, rolling over one another and being pushed about by the wind, before settling into the forest and remaining there for the rest of the night. We watched this happen for what felt like five minutes but turned out to be closer to thirty, running back and forth from west to east and watching the process repeat time after time until the forest was no longer visible from where we stood. By the time we went inside, we had all come to the conclusion that we would likely never again have the opportunity to see what we had seen, and that we were privileged folks indeed. Undoubtedly the single coolest experience since coming to Costa Rica, and I have a hard time thinking of anything that might top it.
Meanwhile, Pete, who didn't go with us, had been locked out of the room in only a towel and had spent the entire hour we were gone trying to find a way back in. Oops.
So I'm back in Santa Ana, safe and sound, and here are the pictures I promised. Enjoy.
Costa Rica Pictures, Part Deux
Es la verdad.
-Juan
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Hey again, everybody.
So Monteverde is amazing. I've taken more pictures here than anywhere else in the country I've been combined. I'll be posting those here once I return to Santa Ana, so don't you worry none.
The trip up here yesterday was forever long, roughly five hours from San José. We were riding with a tour group of senior citizens who were from (I think) Scandanavia. One of the guys asked me if I was Swiss while he was sitting down, and when I said no, he just said, "Oh, you look Swiss. My mistake." I guess that's a compliment, I don't know.
When we got to town, we got some food and headed out to the lodge we're staying in. I just have to say that I owe a big fat "Thank You" to the folk's at Frommer's, because the travel book I bought before leaving the States has come in immensely handy here especially. Because of them, I was alerted to the fact that there are dormitories right at the foot of the biological reserve that were super cheap for students. $38 per night gets us three meals a day and free admittance to the reserve (normally $12). So needless to say, we're doing quite well for ourselves. Hooray for us.
After getting accustomed to our lodgings for the evening, we decided to take advantage of our proximity to the reserve (as well as the uncharacteristically cloudless night, complete with a nearly full moon) and take a slightly prohibited night walk through the jungle. Quite possibly one of the coolest experiences of my life. We didn't see any animals, but it was just really cool to hear the sounds and feel the air. It's really humid, but it's so cool that you really don't even notice it. I had to wear my sweater for the first time since coming to Costa Rica; crazy.
This morning, after waking up early thanks to the family of howler monkeys living outside of our window (seriously), we had some breakfast and headed into the reserve to see what we had been missing the night before. I really wanted to spring for a guide to come with us, but it was pretty pricey (about $25 per person in the group... a little too steep for four college students just trying to see some plants and animals).
Slightly-relevant side note: there are some strange little raccoon-type creatures that come near the lodge every morning and harrass the incoming tourists. I saw one of these things try to snatch a photographer's bag out of a chair, but it failed miserably due to the fact that it tried to pull the bag out from the back of the chair, and so the bag was to big to fit through the space between the seat and the back. The chair came a-tumblin' down on top of the thing and nearly scared the daylights out of it. Hilarity ensued.
Back to the story: so it turns out that we probably should have sprung for the guide. The park had some of the most beautiful stuff I've ever seen in person, but I had no idea what I was looking at most of the day. Also, we failed to see any birds or mammals outside of the long-nosed raccoons outside of the lodge and the monkeys near our window. Not to say it hasn't been a great time, but it definitely would have been nice to see a quetzal or an ocelot or something. Another time, perhaps.
We walked in the forest for close to five hours, then we headed back to the lodge to do some R&R before leaving for what is called around here a "Canopy Tour." Canopy Tours involve strapping on a harness, climbing some trees, and then spending three hours or so riding ziplines through the forest. In other words, quite possibly the sweetest thing ever. I've got some photos for you that I'll post on Monday or Tuesday. Very sweet.
Not much more to say for now, I'm afraid. Have a great night, everybody.
"No... no, I can't afford that. No. No. No. NO TENGO DINERO, ALREADY!"
-Juan
So Monteverde is amazing. I've taken more pictures here than anywhere else in the country I've been combined. I'll be posting those here once I return to Santa Ana, so don't you worry none.
The trip up here yesterday was forever long, roughly five hours from San José. We were riding with a tour group of senior citizens who were from (I think) Scandanavia. One of the guys asked me if I was Swiss while he was sitting down, and when I said no, he just said, "Oh, you look Swiss. My mistake." I guess that's a compliment, I don't know.
When we got to town, we got some food and headed out to the lodge we're staying in. I just have to say that I owe a big fat "Thank You" to the folk's at Frommer's, because the travel book I bought before leaving the States has come in immensely handy here especially. Because of them, I was alerted to the fact that there are dormitories right at the foot of the biological reserve that were super cheap for students. $38 per night gets us three meals a day and free admittance to the reserve (normally $12). So needless to say, we're doing quite well for ourselves. Hooray for us.
After getting accustomed to our lodgings for the evening, we decided to take advantage of our proximity to the reserve (as well as the uncharacteristically cloudless night, complete with a nearly full moon) and take a slightly prohibited night walk through the jungle. Quite possibly one of the coolest experiences of my life. We didn't see any animals, but it was just really cool to hear the sounds and feel the air. It's really humid, but it's so cool that you really don't even notice it. I had to wear my sweater for the first time since coming to Costa Rica; crazy.
This morning, after waking up early thanks to the family of howler monkeys living outside of our window (seriously), we had some breakfast and headed into the reserve to see what we had been missing the night before. I really wanted to spring for a guide to come with us, but it was pretty pricey (about $25 per person in the group... a little too steep for four college students just trying to see some plants and animals).
Slightly-relevant side note: there are some strange little raccoon-type creatures that come near the lodge every morning and harrass the incoming tourists. I saw one of these things try to snatch a photographer's bag out of a chair, but it failed miserably due to the fact that it tried to pull the bag out from the back of the chair, and so the bag was to big to fit through the space between the seat and the back. The chair came a-tumblin' down on top of the thing and nearly scared the daylights out of it. Hilarity ensued.
Back to the story: so it turns out that we probably should have sprung for the guide. The park had some of the most beautiful stuff I've ever seen in person, but I had no idea what I was looking at most of the day. Also, we failed to see any birds or mammals outside of the long-nosed raccoons outside of the lodge and the monkeys near our window. Not to say it hasn't been a great time, but it definitely would have been nice to see a quetzal or an ocelot or something. Another time, perhaps.
We walked in the forest for close to five hours, then we headed back to the lodge to do some R&R before leaving for what is called around here a "Canopy Tour." Canopy Tours involve strapping on a harness, climbing some trees, and then spending three hours or so riding ziplines through the forest. In other words, quite possibly the sweetest thing ever. I've got some photos for you that I'll post on Monday or Tuesday. Very sweet.
Not much more to say for now, I'm afraid. Have a great night, everybody.
"No... no, I can't afford that. No. No. No. NO TENGO DINERO, ALREADY!"
-Juan
Thursday, February 9, 2006
Today is my 22nd birthday. I would say that in Spanish, but I am using my laptop and therefore am without a tilde on my keyboard. I don't want to look like I'm not spelling things properly, because that would negate my presence here in Costa Rica. Plus it would just be silliness.
As has been my birthday tradition for the past few years (since pledging K-Psi, I believe), I dressed a little nicer than I normally would this morning. I can't say why for sure, really. I suppose the attention-starved individual within me just hopes somebody will take the bait and say, "Why are you dressed so nice today?" and I will be able to say, "Oh, I do this every year on my birthday." Then I have found a way to let them know it's my birthday without having to pimp it around. Kind of a manipulative way of getting a smile and a "happy birthday," but I have found that it works very well.
I've gotten a good amount of birthday wishes from the staff at Conversa, as well as from several of my friends and classmates. Altogether, as good as a birthday in a foreign country can be expected to be.
Today has made me slightly introspective and nostalgic, as birthdays have a habit of doing to people, and so here are some of the more exciting things I've done since I turned 21, in chronological order:
I have finished training a pledge class for Kappa Kappa Psi.
I have watched the Baylor Lady Bears take the NCAA championship.
I watched my buddy Tom get married, and got to sing at the dinner to boot.
I spent a summer working as a professional hot dog vendor.
I have driven to Omaha to watch Baylor in the College World Series of Baseball.
I took my car past 100,000 miles.
I finally got my hands on the guitar of my dreams. Hooray.
I joined a group of people known as the Party Posse. Hooray again.
I got to play the Waco Hippodrome with the Brian David Band. I mean, it was only one song, but we still brought the house down.
I have spent a semester in a handbell choir.
I have gone to the Hear of Texas fair and realized that I am grossly underweight to be living in Texas.
I have conquered mono, but not before it conquered me for awhile.
I unsuccessfully pledged a fraternity because the registrar's office misled me and made me sad.
I have hosted a party that did, in fact, get shut down by the police, and in the process earned a hilarious story about the fence on my back porch.
I have finally left the North American continent, back when I went to London over New Year's.
I have been to the center of the lower 48 United States (Lebanon, Kansas).
I have also been to see the world's largest ball of twine.
I have had several conversations completely in Spanish. They were mostly one-sided, but I have understood a whole lot more than I ever could have before.
I have rappelled down a waterfall.
I have been to a rainforest.
I have partied in the same pool as Canadians, Israelites, Costa Ricans, and a Dutch person, all in a hotel situated right next to the Caribbean Sea.
I suppose it only gets better from here, eh?
Anyway, I'm not sure how the rest of my day is going to go. I've got to study for the test tomorrow, so that will be next, and after that I suppose I'll go sit in the lobby of El Coco (the bar I'm living in) and see if anybody I know walks in to have a birthday-type dinner with me.
Thanks for all of the birthday wishes, everybody. I have quite honestly lost track of how many people have texted, AIMed, emailed, facebooked or blog-commented to wish me a good day. It's nice to have friends, I tell you that. You guys are the best.
There probably won't be any new entries for a few days, because tomorrow we're leaving direct from school to head to Monteverde; and I'm not sure about the availability of internet in the cloud forest, but I'd bet good money that there's not much. As I said yesterday, I will be getting pictures, so there should be a nice update on Monday or Tuesday.
Listening to - Never Do Anything by the Barenaked Ladies
"No hablo espanol, dammit!"
-Juan
As has been my birthday tradition for the past few years (since pledging K-Psi, I believe), I dressed a little nicer than I normally would this morning. I can't say why for sure, really. I suppose the attention-starved individual within me just hopes somebody will take the bait and say, "Why are you dressed so nice today?" and I will be able to say, "Oh, I do this every year on my birthday." Then I have found a way to let them know it's my birthday without having to pimp it around. Kind of a manipulative way of getting a smile and a "happy birthday," but I have found that it works very well.
I've gotten a good amount of birthday wishes from the staff at Conversa, as well as from several of my friends and classmates. Altogether, as good as a birthday in a foreign country can be expected to be.
Today has made me slightly introspective and nostalgic, as birthdays have a habit of doing to people, and so here are some of the more exciting things I've done since I turned 21, in chronological order:
I have finished training a pledge class for Kappa Kappa Psi.
I have watched the Baylor Lady Bears take the NCAA championship.
I watched my buddy Tom get married, and got to sing at the dinner to boot.
I spent a summer working as a professional hot dog vendor.
I have driven to Omaha to watch Baylor in the College World Series of Baseball.
I took my car past 100,000 miles.
I finally got my hands on the guitar of my dreams. Hooray.
I joined a group of people known as the Party Posse. Hooray again.
I got to play the Waco Hippodrome with the Brian David Band. I mean, it was only one song, but we still brought the house down.
I have spent a semester in a handbell choir.
I have gone to the Hear of Texas fair and realized that I am grossly underweight to be living in Texas.
I have conquered mono, but not before it conquered me for awhile.
I unsuccessfully pledged a fraternity because the registrar's office misled me and made me sad.
I have hosted a party that did, in fact, get shut down by the police, and in the process earned a hilarious story about the fence on my back porch.
I have finally left the North American continent, back when I went to London over New Year's.
I have been to the center of the lower 48 United States (Lebanon, Kansas).
I have also been to see the world's largest ball of twine.
I have had several conversations completely in Spanish. They were mostly one-sided, but I have understood a whole lot more than I ever could have before.
I have rappelled down a waterfall.
I have been to a rainforest.
I have partied in the same pool as Canadians, Israelites, Costa Ricans, and a Dutch person, all in a hotel situated right next to the Caribbean Sea.
I suppose it only gets better from here, eh?
Anyway, I'm not sure how the rest of my day is going to go. I've got to study for the test tomorrow, so that will be next, and after that I suppose I'll go sit in the lobby of El Coco (the bar I'm living in) and see if anybody I know walks in to have a birthday-type dinner with me.
Thanks for all of the birthday wishes, everybody. I have quite honestly lost track of how many people have texted, AIMed, emailed, facebooked or blog-commented to wish me a good day. It's nice to have friends, I tell you that. You guys are the best.
There probably won't be any new entries for a few days, because tomorrow we're leaving direct from school to head to Monteverde; and I'm not sure about the availability of internet in the cloud forest, but I'd bet good money that there's not much. As I said yesterday, I will be getting pictures, so there should be a nice update on Monday or Tuesday.
Listening to - Never Do Anything by the Barenaked Ladies
"No hablo espanol, dammit!"
-Juan
Wednesday, February 8, 2006
I had a conversation with my host mom today, and I never had to say,¨"¿Que?"
By no means does this mean I can speak Spanish, but I can understand a HUGE amount more than I did when I came here. Especially when I've got a pretty good idea what someone is about to ask me anyway. Heh.
This weekend we're headed to Monteverde Cloud Forest. Trust me, I'll be getting a whole lot of pictures there. Cloud forests are rare. Only about three or four of them in the world, I'm told.
For more info on cloud forests, check out these places:
Cloud Forest Alive
National Geographic Aritlce on Cloud Forests
Also, check out this article about the Resplendent Quetzal. It is the bird to see down here, apparently, and is really quite interesting to read about.
The Resplendent Quetzal
If this doesn't satisfy, you may google it.
"¿Que huelo?"
-Juan
By no means does this mean I can speak Spanish, but I can understand a HUGE amount more than I did when I came here. Especially when I've got a pretty good idea what someone is about to ask me anyway. Heh.
This weekend we're headed to Monteverde Cloud Forest. Trust me, I'll be getting a whole lot of pictures there. Cloud forests are rare. Only about three or four of them in the world, I'm told.
For more info on cloud forests, check out these places:
Cloud Forest Alive
National Geographic Aritlce on Cloud Forests
Also, check out this article about the Resplendent Quetzal. It is the bird to see down here, apparently, and is really quite interesting to read about.
The Resplendent Quetzal
If this doesn't satisfy, you may google it.
"¿Que huelo?"
-Juan
Tuesday, February 7, 2006
Quick entry today, I'm using up somebody else's bandwidth and there are people waiting. Also, I am being watched.
Internet cafes are all down today, I think partially because of the serious internet clog due to the very close election results here in Costa Rica. I'm not sure what the connection there is, but that's what they're telling me.
The beach was fun, but I got no pictures. Sorry. Maybe stories another time, I dunno. There will be more beaches, though, so there will be pictures. Rastas are everywhere in Cahuita.
Pete ate a cheese empanada at the bus station in San Jose, and subsequently got food poisoning. Moral of the story: don't eat in San Jose. Don't eat anything at all, no matter how convincing the grifter selling the food might be.
"You can't point your finger with your hand full of sheet, mon!" - Rasta Man from Cahuita
-Juan
Internet cafes are all down today, I think partially because of the serious internet clog due to the very close election results here in Costa Rica. I'm not sure what the connection there is, but that's what they're telling me.
The beach was fun, but I got no pictures. Sorry. Maybe stories another time, I dunno. There will be more beaches, though, so there will be pictures. Rastas are everywhere in Cahuita.
Pete ate a cheese empanada at the bus station in San Jose, and subsequently got food poisoning. Moral of the story: don't eat in San Jose. Don't eat anything at all, no matter how convincing the grifter selling the food might be.
"You can't point your finger with your hand full of sheet, mon!" - Rasta Man from Cahuita
-Juan
Thursday, February 2, 2006
Not much to say today, everybody, sorry.
Tomorrow, we start our first weekend at the beach. Highly exciting. All of the bars and clubs are closing down this weekend, because the elections are taking place on Sunday and they don't want people voting drunk. That's funny. So we won't have much to do, but I'll bet we can find a way to have fun on a beach. You know, like taking naps and such.
I'll get pictures.
"Explique en ingles."
-Juan
Tomorrow, we start our first weekend at the beach. Highly exciting. All of the bars and clubs are closing down this weekend, because the elections are taking place on Sunday and they don't want people voting drunk. That's funny. So we won't have much to do, but I'll bet we can find a way to have fun on a beach. You know, like taking naps and such.
I'll get pictures.
"Explique en ingles."
-Juan
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