October 18: Today my cuisine class was cancelled due to the overpopulation of thunderstorms. It has been typhoon season for the last few weeks. I am beginning to loose hope on the return of the sun. I feel like Tom Hanks, stranded on an island with no hope of escape from the water surrounding me. The only laugh that I was able to treasure today came from the simplicity of my mama tica's hiccups that ran throughout the house for a couple hours.
October 19: Best day of futbol ever. Our games seemed to fly by as we won and lost in joy. The competition level was as low, as was the testosterone. I have finally found my position of comfort. I am not coordinated enough to aim as a forward, nor block as a goalie. My talent lies somewhere between. I have enjoyed my position as a fullback protector because my job is to protect the goal, charge the ball, and kick that bugger as hard as my strength will allow.
After futbol we made plans to see a movie that was created in Costa Rica called "El Regreso" or "The return." Spencer groomed and bathed himself at my house after futbol, in order to freshen for the flick. I thoroughly enjoyed the scene where Spencer dramatically threw open my sliding door to the shower, limited only to his shorts, and dared ask me, "did you miss me?" Laughing and rolling my eyes, I continued my tasks until the unsatisfied response tempted Spencer into wiping me in the butt with a towel! Brotherly love is not limited by moving to another country. We have had multiple discussions between the two of us that form a resemblance between each other and our siblings.
October 20: Simple and uneventful Thursday. Molly and I bought our groceries, I found a cheap and tasty bottle of Costa Rican wine, and we went to Spanish class for Salsa night!
October 21: The bus to Cahuita was simple and quick. I have conquered the cure for my bus sickness: limiting the amount of time in the bus. Sounds simple? That's because it is. Hanging my body out the window creates a number of great solutions. The wind in my face riddens me of my sickness and I get a closer experience to the rural Costa Rican life. There is a good source of happiness that comes from waving and smiling at the local people from my window.
We arrived in Cahuita in time to spot a sloth hanging from a telephone wire within feet of my head. I was twitterpated to be almost within touching distance. I think the sloth was happier that it hadn't been diagnosed with epilepsy due to the abundance of photographic flashes that followed it's tight rope passage. Our hostel, The Secret Garden, was tucked back into a little crevasse of the town. We cooked our dinner and headed out for some night life. Though it was a national holiday, the night life was limited. We were the only bodies who touched the dance floor besides the entangled lesbian lovers. All other warm bodies were large Afro-Caribbean men who decorated the walls while the girls danced and Spencer attempted to perfect his ragae dance moves - which involved a lot of general gang signs. We quickly removed Spencers' gang signs and ourselves from the dance floor and on to the Churro with Dulce de Leche stand. Yummmmmm!
October 22: We explored the depths of Cahuita's National Forest for a small donational fee. I improved my photography portfolio as I meandered through the jungle. At the end of our passage, we encountered a colony of Capuchin monkeys. Natalie desperately wanted to feed the savages. I kept my distance for a while as my mama tica's monkey horror stories repeated in my head. After the reoccurring nightmare passed, I debated with my courage until I convinced it to join me. I joined Natalie and Molly's lunch with the monkeys. We had monkeys hold our hands, steal our crackers, and sit in our laps. !Que Divertido!
After our monkeys lunch, we headed to a short session of swimming and sunbathing. Our session was cut short due to the incoming storm. The storm took hold of the entire evening, taking it captive. The storm tormented us as we watched our beautiful day being chased away, never looking back.
We prepared lunch, read novels, discussed political topics with an English man and gave a Spanish crash course to our hansom, Scottish roommate. The occupants of the hotel rushed to the limits of the roof to fill their water bottles after the rain began. I sometimes forget that I am living in a third world country. I am often reminded when certain events pass throughout my day. When the rain running off the roof proves to be cleaner than that from the sinks; I am reminded.
We struggled to occupy ourselves throughout the afternoon. No longer being able to withstand our boredom, we found our way to the nearby Puerto Viejo. We enjoyed Americanized food (pasta, tacos, hamburgers) at a local restaurant called Flip Flop. I ordered myself a Flip Flop Special hamburger with a side of fire dancing man! I have seen this fire dancer all over the country and every time I am drooling over his incredible talents. My hamburger, fire twirler, and evening of dance proved to be worth our expensive cab fare home.
October 23: Bus Station came too soon. We woke up to the most beautiful sun filled day just in time to leave. We contemplated exchanging our tickets for a later time. However, we were unable to motivate ourselves into the great attempt of speaking in Spanish to the ticket office. So, we left the white sand, giggling children, fresh pineapple, churros con dulce de leche and the sun rays behind us. No wonder my mama tica doesn't understand why I keep returning from the beach as pasty white as when I left.
No comments:
Post a Comment