Last year, a friend told me about a book called Taming Your Dragons. It sounds silly, doesn’t it? The basic concept is that we have one dominant “dragon” that impedes us emotionally: greed, arrogance, self-deprecation, etc. I remained skeptical and uncertain about yet another self-help guru’s theory until I read the section on my particular monster and literally laughed out loud because of it’s searing accuracy. My dragon: impatience!! Clumsiness and proneness to break things, along with my morbid preoccupation with time and mortality were all summed in this sweet little diagnosis. But if ten months in Costa Rica hasn’t taught me how to tame this puppy, nothing will.
Because this is a possible week in Paradise. Last Wednesday, after seeing my roommate off for the second time (the week before her flight was cancelled and she was never informed), I decided to finally repair the air conditioner in my car. Months of sweaty service wasn’t sufficient motivation to drive an hour to Liberia and wait all day to have my car fixed, but a last ditch effort to increase it’s value before selling it finally did the trick. After a splendid six hours at FrioGama, I drove away with a functioning air conditioner. Oh was that all? Only six hours waiting at a car repair shop in 90 degree weather at 80% humidity? Gee, why did I ever put that off? But with the cool AC blowing in my face, it was vale la pena.
Unfortunately, five minutes down the road the cold air turned stale. U-turn. Re-enter. Repeat AC check. Replace fuse. Return home. Indulge in blasting freezing air at full speed. Two days later: no more AC. Yesterday drive back. Waste more hours. Wait for bad news: must come back soon and wait 8 hours. Bad words bad words bad words.
But what is that obnoxious expression about an ounce of prevention? I noticed the air in my tires were low, so I stopped on the way home to fill them. Oh no, Demon of Guanacaste, don’t you even think about giving me a flat tire! I’m one step ahead of you this time, you jerk.
Which brings us to this morning. Wake up, get ready to work. Discover internet is out. Pack up computer, get in car, discover flat. Get out of car, get in garbage truck with garbage collector men for free ride, go to local coffee shop. Suffer through very spotty internet. Invite self over to bible student’s office near coffee shop to test internet. More spotty suffering. Call taxi to retrieve self and find another wifi spot. Finish work and calm self with reality that new paycheck has just been created. Miss important phone calls because place that has wifi lacks cel phone reception. Take taxi home and resist temptation to drink a six pack of beer before meeting. Practice talk. Write blog. Shorten sentences so as not to test patience of readers. Pray fervently to sell car and return to greedycapitalistservemenowimpatient America, where my dragon, once again, can thrive and grow strong.
If you remain impatient while living here, implosion seems the only logical event that could follow. Which I haven’t done. Which perhaps means I’m just a wee bit more patient than when I left. Pura Vida baby. Tranquilo, tranquilo. Bah! Just hearing someone say tranquilo raises my blood pressure!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Incendies
Yeah, um...so you know how I drone on and on about car problems and RTV and slow drivers and flat tires? Well this one takes all. My friend Jake took his car to RTV last week and received a big fat F with a list of "grave" problems. Before heading to Panama for a week to renew his visa, he dropped the car off at a local mechanic in Huacas. Perfect! Frolic on the island of Bocas Del Toro while your car gets a triple bypass. Well, let's just say something went seriously wrong with the anesthesiologist. The other day at meeting for service we were told some shocking news: Jake's car caught on fire while at the auto shop. The mechanic claims that while he tried to move the lever to open the hood in order to put out the fire, it broke off in his hand. No bueno. No bueno at all. So this is what poor Jake will return to:
I hope he had a really, really, really good vacation. Anyone want to send over a bicycle?
I hope he had a really, really, really good vacation. Anyone want to send over a bicycle?
Friday, June 3, 2011
Bob Dylan Said It Best
The times they are a-changin. The majority of people living here when I arrived have left or are leaving, one by one (well, actually they seem to be leaving in twos). It’s making me get a little sentimental about the friends I’ve made. Jeff and Carley Snethen, who lived here on and off for about two years, finally had to return to Oregon. They were the first to befriend me and help me find a car. Harumi and Ayano, the two bestest Japanese girls in the world, are leaving us on Tuesday, and I can’t believe I won’t be seeing them anymore and that we won’t be sweating in service together.
And my roommate will be leaving at the end of this month! With everything changing, it takes work not to let my perspective shift as well. What am I gonna do without my friends? Another bummer is that a lot of the studies I was working hard to cultivate have become irregular or are MIA. When service is great here, it brings with it a definite sense of satisfaction; but when it wanes, it is really easy to think, What AM I doing here? It’s hotter than Gehenna and the mosquitos are back...get me outta here!
And this all makes me think of the Malavasi Family, because if it wasn’t for their stability, Huacas English wouldn’t stay afloat.
Lady and her four sons and their two wives moved here from San Jose several years ago, started a property management business, and started learning English. Every year they see possibly hundreds of people come and go, but they remain and keep things moving along. I’m sure they miss the climate of San Jose, their friends, and the diversions a city can offer, but they stay here to keep their lives simple and help out. Lately there’s been around 20 people at our meetings, which means this family makes up a third of our hall. It must be so interesting for them to see people that visited three years ago finally come back for a longer stay. So even though they're staying put, they're never standing still. And what’s pretty amazing is that just as it seems the hall is going to waste away, word comes that an entire new crop of people will be passing through. Welcome to the revolving door of Guanacaste!
Anyhow, Laura and I have been pounding the pavement and things are picking up again. I’ve got 60 days left to do everything in Costa Rica I wanted to but haven’t!
"Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled...
For the Times they are a-changin'"
And my roommate will be leaving at the end of this month! With everything changing, it takes work not to let my perspective shift as well. What am I gonna do without my friends? Another bummer is that a lot of the studies I was working hard to cultivate have become irregular or are MIA. When service is great here, it brings with it a definite sense of satisfaction; but when it wanes, it is really easy to think, What AM I doing here? It’s hotter than Gehenna and the mosquitos are back...get me outta here!
And this all makes me think of the Malavasi Family, because if it wasn’t for their stability, Huacas English wouldn’t stay afloat.
Lady and her four sons and their two wives moved here from San Jose several years ago, started a property management business, and started learning English. Every year they see possibly hundreds of people come and go, but they remain and keep things moving along. I’m sure they miss the climate of San Jose, their friends, and the diversions a city can offer, but they stay here to keep their lives simple and help out. Lately there’s been around 20 people at our meetings, which means this family makes up a third of our hall. It must be so interesting for them to see people that visited three years ago finally come back for a longer stay. So even though they're staying put, they're never standing still. And what’s pretty amazing is that just as it seems the hall is going to waste away, word comes that an entire new crop of people will be passing through. Welcome to the revolving door of Guanacaste!
Anyhow, Laura and I have been pounding the pavement and things are picking up again. I’ve got 60 days left to do everything in Costa Rica I wanted to but haven’t!
"Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled...
For the Times they are a-changin'"
Friday, May 20, 2011
Rules of Engagement
My old camera had a scratch on the lens, so it had to be replaced before my trip to hike the Inca Trail. I deliberated so much over which camera to buy that I actually purchased two in hopes that I could sell the one that didn’t make the cut in test runs. My Canon G12 was the winner. Every day she took stunning photos of the scenery during our four day, 43K hike, and every night I would sleep with the battery to keep it from draining. She even had videos of us dancing up the stairs to lift our spirits on Day 2, the most challenging day of the hike that involves a 1200 meter gain in elevation. When we finally caught our first glimpse of the ruins, we just couldn’t take enough photos. But, being physically exhausted from the rigorous hike and routine of waking up from anywhere between 3:30am to 6:00am, I may have been a little mentally challenged as well. I realized my great loss when our group met together to make a human pyramid: she was nowhere to be found. Did I let my sacred camera slip off my shoulder whilst sitting down to take a rest in an ancient corridor of Machu Picchu? Did someone cut the strap and sneak away, with me failing to notice? Did the Great Camera Demon decide that I would be his next victim? Even the footage from video cameras aimed at monitoring various locations in Machu Picchu didn’t contain the answer (although it was a creepy reminder that Big Brother is always watching!).
Did I cry like a baby after complete sleep deprivation and exhaustion at the loss of a brand new camera and a never to be repeated collection of photos? No way, of course not! [Drip, drip, drip, drip....salty splash]
In times of war, Rules of Engagement serve as guidelines: for example, it’s not ok to kill civilians or keep massacring an army that has accepted defeat. If memory serves me correct, during the Incan Empire, armies would stop fighting in order to gather their harvests. Well, thieves of the world, I would like to propose that you, too, ought to draft some Rules of Thievery, and they would go a little something like this:
Fine, take my camera, you horridselfishheartlessgreedy jerks, but give me back my memory card containing memories of a 43K hike to see the stunning ruins of Machu Picchu! Drop off the SD card at a designated safe zone!
Oh, and I’m blaming you for adding coveting and financial debt to my list of sins. If I hadn’t lost my camera, I would have probably never discovered that Wendy’s $1200 camera can capture shots like this:
I forgot all about SLR heaven. Great, now I feel like a one week old widow whose already fallen in love again. Sigh.
Did I cry like a baby after complete sleep deprivation and exhaustion at the loss of a brand new camera and a never to be repeated collection of photos? No way, of course not! [Drip, drip, drip, drip....salty splash]
In times of war, Rules of Engagement serve as guidelines: for example, it’s not ok to kill civilians or keep massacring an army that has accepted defeat. If memory serves me correct, during the Incan Empire, armies would stop fighting in order to gather their harvests. Well, thieves of the world, I would like to propose that you, too, ought to draft some Rules of Thievery, and they would go a little something like this:
Fine, take my camera, you horridselfishheartlessgreedy jerks, but give me back my memory card containing memories of a 43K hike to see the stunning ruins of Machu Picchu! Drop off the SD card at a designated safe zone!
Oh, and I’m blaming you for adding coveting and financial debt to my list of sins. If I hadn’t lost my camera, I would have probably never discovered that Wendy’s $1200 camera can capture shots like this:
I forgot all about SLR heaven. Great, now I feel like a one week old widow whose already fallen in love again. Sigh.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
They Gave Me Fever!
I love experiencing things in foreign lands that are either unique to that culture or simply bizarre occurrences that might not happen elsewhere. Recently I’ve had two of these.
Part 1: The Dreaded RTV
(pronounced re-te-ve, it took me half a year to realize it’s an acronym). It’s laughable and a bit pitiable to imagine someone in the States wanting to celebrate the passing a smog check (big deal!), but the passing of RTV, Costa Rica’s version of a smog check but on crack, made me want to throw a Quinceañera for my car (it just so happens to be a 96!). The process for me went a little something like this:
I made an on-line appointment, trying my best to translate, at one of the countries’ approved locations an hour from my house. My roommate Laura (bless her sweet little heart for going with me) and I showed up, looking lost and confused, and were instructed to wait in our car in a line that looked a little something like the opening day of a new ride at Disneyland. After two hours of sweating and inching forward, we drove through a skinny little building with men under the car, over the car, and in the car, examining as much as they could in as little time as possible. I’m not sure how they missed my two broken door handles, but after driving through I received my certificate: FAIL!!! I had a month to fix the problems, but really only two weeks before my trip to Peru. It took 10 days to receive my parts, which means that once again the day before a trip I was running around like a headless chicken: dropping off my car off, waiting to be informed that my mechanic is lame and couldn’t fix the problem, driving over an hour to a muffler shop in Nicoya to have a new mystery part installed, and by 4:30pm rolling into RTV for my reinspect and doing my best to appear as truly pathetic and helpless as I felt inside. But woohoo, mission accomplished! This time around, I passed. So if one day, anyone has to get their RTV, I recommend the following:
*Get a victim, I mean good friend, to join you
*Bring a six pack of a delicious beverage
*Bring some sort of musical accompaniment
*Grab a deck of cards
*Practice your best weepy eyes, just in case things go poorly
And by the way Costa Rica, how can you have such a fierce inspection every year and yet so many pieces of JUNK on the roads?????
Part 2: Yellow Fever
Travelers visiting countries where Yellow Fever exists must show proof of vaccination in order to return to Costa Rica even if they don’t visit high risk zones. The jab would have cost me $50 in CR, but I read that in Peru you can pay little if nothing. Hmm, just what I like to do on vacay - visit a hospital/clinic to get a shot. After hiking the Inca Trail, I asked around and was sent to a clinic known for vaccinating travelers. The very friendly man who spoke English informed me that there was currently a shortage of the vaccine, but I could wait for the shipment arriving tomorrow. Hmm, no dice, I had to get on a night bus. Can’t I just pay for the certificate and be a super shady traveler since I won’t actually be visiting the Amazon? Darn, that would be lying. But wait - apparently there is a secret stash of the vaccine for fiebre amarilla! For just a mere $40, I could have a 3 person medical staff show up at my hostel in an ambulance to give me the shot and wait with me for half an hour to make sure there’s no reaction because I’m neurotic. Excuse me, WHAT???? And, um, well, YES! So for half an hour, the four of us chatted about Peru, vaccines and their possible link to autism, Costa Rica, and the fact that their should be rules of engagement for thieves (more on this to come). At least I think that’s what we talked about. It was in Spanish, so for all I know I could have told them I’m an autistic thief from Costa Rica visiting Peru.
Part 1: The Dreaded RTV
(pronounced re-te-ve, it took me half a year to realize it’s an acronym). It’s laughable and a bit pitiable to imagine someone in the States wanting to celebrate the passing a smog check (big deal!), but the passing of RTV, Costa Rica’s version of a smog check but on crack, made me want to throw a Quinceañera for my car (it just so happens to be a 96!). The process for me went a little something like this:
I made an on-line appointment, trying my best to translate, at one of the countries’ approved locations an hour from my house. My roommate Laura (bless her sweet little heart for going with me) and I showed up, looking lost and confused, and were instructed to wait in our car in a line that looked a little something like the opening day of a new ride at Disneyland. After two hours of sweating and inching forward, we drove through a skinny little building with men under the car, over the car, and in the car, examining as much as they could in as little time as possible. I’m not sure how they missed my two broken door handles, but after driving through I received my certificate: FAIL!!! I had a month to fix the problems, but really only two weeks before my trip to Peru. It took 10 days to receive my parts, which means that once again the day before a trip I was running around like a headless chicken: dropping off my car off, waiting to be informed that my mechanic is lame and couldn’t fix the problem, driving over an hour to a muffler shop in Nicoya to have a new mystery part installed, and by 4:30pm rolling into RTV for my reinspect and doing my best to appear as truly pathetic and helpless as I felt inside. But woohoo, mission accomplished! This time around, I passed. So if one day, anyone has to get their RTV, I recommend the following:
*Get a victim, I mean good friend, to join you
*Bring a six pack of a delicious beverage
*Bring some sort of musical accompaniment
*Grab a deck of cards
*Practice your best weepy eyes, just in case things go poorly
And by the way Costa Rica, how can you have such a fierce inspection every year and yet so many pieces of JUNK on the roads?????
Part 2: Yellow Fever
Travelers visiting countries where Yellow Fever exists must show proof of vaccination in order to return to Costa Rica even if they don’t visit high risk zones. The jab would have cost me $50 in CR, but I read that in Peru you can pay little if nothing. Hmm, just what I like to do on vacay - visit a hospital/clinic to get a shot. After hiking the Inca Trail, I asked around and was sent to a clinic known for vaccinating travelers. The very friendly man who spoke English informed me that there was currently a shortage of the vaccine, but I could wait for the shipment arriving tomorrow. Hmm, no dice, I had to get on a night bus. Can’t I just pay for the certificate and be a super shady traveler since I won’t actually be visiting the Amazon? Darn, that would be lying. But wait - apparently there is a secret stash of the vaccine for fiebre amarilla! For just a mere $40, I could have a 3 person medical staff show up at my hostel in an ambulance to give me the shot and wait with me for half an hour to make sure there’s no reaction because I’m neurotic. Excuse me, WHAT???? And, um, well, YES! So for half an hour, the four of us chatted about Peru, vaccines and their possible link to autism, Costa Rica, and the fact that their should be rules of engagement for thieves (more on this to come). At least I think that’s what we talked about. It was in Spanish, so for all I know I could have told them I’m an autistic thief from Costa Rica visiting Peru.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Memorial Mishaps
The Kingdom Hall here in Huacas is not very large, and in order to accommodate the large crowd expected for Memorial, Chris Spears had an excellent idea: find a way to televise the event for those seated outside. I'm not a teckie, but the plan went something like this: network two mac books, with the webcam of one aimed at the speaker, and the other hooked up to a projector aimed at the wall of the Hall where the outdoor seating would be arranged. The only part I needed to play was to make my computer available for the event.
Since our friend Ryan was giving the talk, my roommate Laura and I decided to attend the Spanish memorial as well as our own. Ryan told us that since the congregation was asked to take the outdoor seating and leave the Hall free for guests, we were invited to sit inside. It felt like a privilege to be seated in the second row, listening to a great memorial talk with such few distractions. Our friend done us proud. And to see the hall overflowing with students and visiting families was really encouraging.
But there was one teensy-weensy thing I forgot: my new screensaver mode. After a few minutes of non-use, photos from my personal albums alternate on the screen for a few seconds each. About two minutes after the memorial, my friend Elena (Chris's wife) came running through the hall, practically shoving Bible students out of her path, to inform me that a picture of my friend in a bathing suit had just been projected onto the wall of the Kingdom Hall. For once the expression "For the love of all that is holy" seemed appropriate. Because my friend and I attempting a mock photo shoot on the beaches of Costa Rica is anything but holy. And suddenly, all the weird, goofy, unattractive, private photos that don't even make the Facebook cut flashed through my mind. Humiliation/fear/nausea infiltrated my gut as I pondered which ones were currently being broadcast to a group of visitors. At the Hall. After the Memorial.
How DO I manage these things?!!
P.S. I am sorry Jess Flanagan. Good thing you look GREAT in a bathing suit!
P.S.S. Imagine if this doozy popped up. The most heinous self-image to date. Zoolander meets Colombo meets Grey Poupon. I can humiliate myself no further than this for your personal enjoyment. Laura made me do it. Enjoy.
Since our friend Ryan was giving the talk, my roommate Laura and I decided to attend the Spanish memorial as well as our own. Ryan told us that since the congregation was asked to take the outdoor seating and leave the Hall free for guests, we were invited to sit inside. It felt like a privilege to be seated in the second row, listening to a great memorial talk with such few distractions. Our friend done us proud. And to see the hall overflowing with students and visiting families was really encouraging.
But there was one teensy-weensy thing I forgot: my new screensaver mode. After a few minutes of non-use, photos from my personal albums alternate on the screen for a few seconds each. About two minutes after the memorial, my friend Elena (Chris's wife) came running through the hall, practically shoving Bible students out of her path, to inform me that a picture of my friend in a bathing suit had just been projected onto the wall of the Kingdom Hall. For once the expression "For the love of all that is holy" seemed appropriate. Because my friend and I attempting a mock photo shoot on the beaches of Costa Rica is anything but holy. And suddenly, all the weird, goofy, unattractive, private photos that don't even make the Facebook cut flashed through my mind. Humiliation/fear/nausea infiltrated my gut as I pondered which ones were currently being broadcast to a group of visitors. At the Hall. After the Memorial.
How DO I manage these things?!!
P.S. I am sorry Jess Flanagan. Good thing you look GREAT in a bathing suit!
P.S.S. Imagine if this doozy popped up. The most heinous self-image to date. Zoolander meets Colombo meets Grey Poupon. I can humiliate myself no further than this for your personal enjoyment. Laura made me do it. Enjoy.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Live Trees, Dead Toads, and Freaky Fires
These trees are so beautiful and only blossom during the summer here; they really stand out since nearly all else is dying.
Here's a few versions of my favorite tree taken with my new Canon G12 (plug):
With color select:
Just a little vivid:
Super vivid:
And here's a special perk about the dry season - if 100 degrees isn't hot enough for you, you can always pull over off the side of the road to warm your hands or roast marshmallows in the frequent controlled burns that look like renegade fires:
I really don't understand how all of Guanacaste hasn't burned down. California, you should take some notes.
But be sure not to step on these when crossing the road:
Here's a few versions of my favorite tree taken with my new Canon G12 (plug):
With color select:
Just a little vivid:
Super vivid:
And here's a special perk about the dry season - if 100 degrees isn't hot enough for you, you can always pull over off the side of the road to warm your hands or roast marshmallows in the frequent controlled burns that look like renegade fires:
I really don't understand how all of Guanacaste hasn't burned down. California, you should take some notes.
But be sure not to step on these when crossing the road:
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