well, one large possible major highlight of the trip occurred in my absence. ash was apparently relatively fresh outta the shower and still damp, when she claims that she lowered her chin to her chest rapidly and suddenly neck farted. i've never heard of that, and i wish i'd been there.
last friday was the end of the san jose portion of our stay, as our ambulance contract expired. we loved the medics, enjoyed our time in the city, and were able to set a modest footprint while here. our favorite bar was called Ciros, which was only a few blocks from where we've lived. like everywhere else in the country, 80s music blared loudly at all hours. we discovered that 2 beers seemed to be my threshold to sing along while translating into spanish, which was really entertaining (to myself). my personal favorite was dire straits: dinero para nada (yo quiero mi-- yo quiero mi-- yo quiero mi ehmay teh veh-cheeekaaaaa...).
so with the end of our paramedic ride-alongs came the kicking of this vaycay into high gear. last sunday we went to a pro futbol game between the local saprissa team (yeah!) and the san carlos rivals (boo.). while i'm a little disappointed in myself that i allowed us to be talked outta purchasing tickets in the hooligan section by some super old 29yo paramedic who said it'd be too dangerous, we had an awesome time soaking in what san jose has to offer by way of its 1st place premier league team in their stadium that probably seats around 20,000.
i'm always interested in foreign stadium food: in costa rica they offer fajitas, meat/potato empanadas, pizza, churros, hotdogs with cole slaw and pico de gallo, and something else we were never able to identify. heeding the medic's advice, we ended up at the 50 yard line with a great view of the entire field. despite the supposed upper class neighbors to our left and right, there was enough emotion/rage to go around, as many/most were constantly yelling at the players and refs. one man in particular was my favorite to observe; every play had something wrong with it, it seemed. i might never actually decide if i most appreciated the obscenity-laced tirade aimed directly at the potato chip vendor when he stood upright, or when he nearly tore his girlfriend's face off with a kiss when saprissa scored their first goal (i checked-- she was no in fact injured). both were awesome to behold; this dude is a fan. regardless, the level of emotion certainly rubbed off on us gringos, as the word "puta" was screamed by my very own fiancee's virgin lips on at least three occasions. those were proud moments.
after saprissa's 2-0 victory, we left the stadium with perfect timing to witness the classic herd mentality of a group of young men getting angry, probably for nothing. one dude happened to get too close to utter what was very likely a poor choice of words to a not-so-tiny security guard, who promply threw a right that led to this dude's nose exploding pretty much all over the place. i guess security deals with things their own way here. rocks started flying, at which point ash and i decided we'd better duck out. good sh*t.
the following day we left early to a town called la fortuna, which is surrounded by dense tropical rainforest and situated directly east of a very active volcano. by very active i mean it's constantly shooting sh*t into the air. so much to say about the place i don't have a clue as to where to start. many dogs roam the streets in la fortuna, although they're not mangey or dirty. in fact, they have a tendency to greet whomever leaves their hostel with wagging tail to accompany them to wherever they end up. it's quite a perk of the place, actually. they hate peanut butter.
we had several adventures while in la fortuna. the highlights:
-the lava is only viewable at night and is shooting down the side of the volcano not visible where the hostels are located, so we took a trip to the north/west side of the volcano our first night. despite low clouds, we did catch enough of a glimpse to be able to say that we've seen lava flow out of a volcano. very impressive...
-next day we hiked up the large volcano (arenal)'s little, extinct brother called cerro chato. this involved hiking up straight through the jungle (which can be deafening, by the way, with the sounds of frogs, birds and insects-- it's pretty spectacular and easy to understand how people in the old days assumed it was haunted), into the clouds, up and over the ridge, and down into the lake that has collected since the last eruption. the whole hike was a tremendous pain in the *ss from a physical standpoint, which is precisely why it was so awesome when we arrived and found that we were completely alone in the middle of this volcanic crater lake. there's no way to describe the place and give it justice; suffice to say that it was lifechanging. when we arrived, the cloud was as dense as the jungle itself, with a visibility of about 10 feet. shortly thereafter, the cloud lifted to uncover the most gorgeous place we'd ever seen-- a pristine lake surrounded by about seven hundred and six shades of green, and no sign of human life anywhere. who needs clothes at a time like that.
-incidentally, for the biologists out there: this lake occupies a volcanic crater and is composed entirely of rain water. and yet, it has fish. the going hypothesis is a bird ate some fish and shat some eggs into the lake, while i suppose egg poop is possible, i've certainly never heard of it. anyone?
-after that hike we treated ourselves to a night at a pretty shi-shi spa that includes the tabacon river, which is a natural flow heated by the earth's magma to a temp of a toasty 103F. since it's a natural river, it's best to be careful: get the f*kk outta the water if you feel the earth quake, for example. there is a channel leading down the volcano directly into this resort that makes for a beautiful view and also for a death sentence if ol' faithful were to blow a large and unexpected gasket. needless to say the emergency exits are clearly marked and the cars need to be parked facing out, just in case. the night included a dinner buffet, at which ashley housed 3 heaping plates of vegetables. i dunno how you quantify bulky stool, her next one had to've been right up there.
-yesterday was a trip to another indescribable waterfall/river/jungle place. gorgeous. the walk back was also amazing as it was partly through a truly deafening small jungle portion followed by a walk through humble, residential la fortuna where we got to see what the locals do with their lives as the sun sets. everyone is always ready to say hello and wish us well. we wondered the response that two outta towners would get walking through a small rural town in the states. hard to say...
dotdotdots: despite the plethora of casinos, i have placed exactly one wager and won nine bucks. wuddup... everyone should have continual access to an excellent hammock… everytime we see someone smoking, we are reminded of how few people here smoke… as of tomorrow night i will have officially completed medical school and will be a doctor… i hate the dodgers.
time's up at the internet cafe so we'll sign off for how... we leave very early tomorrow to the osa peninsula in the remote southwest corner of the country (less developed.) for 5 days of roughing it with a personal guide. can't f*kkin wait.
alright then,
pura vida.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
photos that don't really accompany the text of this blog.
terrifying.
fun in the ambulance base. only once did we get to cruise around in chirripo, the huge truck that i'm pictured standing in upright. that soup was one of a few delicious meals a chef cum medic prepared for us (nicest). when it's a slow morning, they let me inject them with drugs to practice my syringe skills.
enjoying san jose...the one photo we have from the soccor stadium (NO cameras allowed), the most brilliant rainbow in the most icky part of san jose (we did waiver for a few seconds as to whether or not we should make it any more obvious we're tourists on that particular block). david sipping his coffee at our favorite place in el centro, the teatro nacional in the backdrop.
this is actually NOT arenal or cerro chatto, it is a smaller volcano called irazu, about two hours from san jose, where we went on a day trip last weekend.
in the jungle, in a cloud ascending the crater of cerro chato. amazing.
fun in the ambulance base. only once did we get to cruise around in chirripo, the huge truck that i'm pictured standing in upright. that soup was one of a few delicious meals a chef cum medic prepared for us (nicest). when it's a slow morning, they let me inject them with drugs to practice my syringe skills.
enjoying san jose...the one photo we have from the soccor stadium (NO cameras allowed), the most brilliant rainbow in the most icky part of san jose (we did waiver for a few seconds as to whether or not we should make it any more obvious we're tourists on that particular block). david sipping his coffee at our favorite place in el centro, the teatro nacional in the backdrop.
this is actually NOT arenal or cerro chatto, it is a smaller volcano called irazu, about two hours from san jose, where we went on a day trip last weekend.
in the jungle, in a cloud ascending the crater of cerro chato. amazing.
Monday, April 27, 2009
congrats, em and eric!
hello all from arenal volcano.
the sole purpose of this message is to offer a HUGE congratulations to my lovely sister emily, and her awesome *fiancee* eric on their engagement. apparently, these two are attempting to compete with us in regard to lumping as many life events into as short a time frame as possible...the engagement and their first puppy came the same day (yesterday).
anyway, we are so thrilled to officially welcome eric into the family! he makes us just a teensy bit cooler by association. these two are a wonderful couple, and better yet, are rooted in chicago. david and i can't wait to be their neighbors and to play with our new canine niece/nephew!
congrats you two, can't wait to see you again!
the sole purpose of this message is to offer a HUGE congratulations to my lovely sister emily, and her awesome *fiancee* eric on their engagement. apparently, these two are attempting to compete with us in regard to lumping as many life events into as short a time frame as possible...the engagement and their first puppy came the same day (yesterday).
anyway, we are so thrilled to officially welcome eric into the family! he makes us just a teensy bit cooler by association. these two are a wonderful couple, and better yet, are rooted in chicago. david and i can't wait to be their neighbors and to play with our new canine niece/nephew!
congrats you two, can't wait to see you again!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
econoblog
i´ve asked david to give the people what they want and blog about our last week in san jose (much eating, ambulancing, volcanoing and futboling) as we bid farewell to this fair city at sunrise tomorrow. however, the nfl draft is taking priority tonight for some of us (i won´t mention names), so i´ll post this back up blog i´ve kept on reserve for dire straights like these. we wouldn´t want all of our loyal followers to feel disenfranchised, and if nothing else, i know james chen will appreciate reading another of my short dissertations (for those of you who don´t know, it´s an unspoken rule of blogging that if you´re singled out by name, you must personally leave a comment). this entry should hold everyone over for awhile...
i'll begin with the following: earlier this week, i almost simultaneously fainted and vomited all over the living room of a woman who called our ambulance after (slightly) cutting her index finger. ironically, this is precisely what happened to a patient the previous night, but he was simultaneously suffering a stroke and heart attack, and is also paraplegic (less lucky, that guy). i'm not sure what my excuse is. i tried to play it cool and promptly sat myself on her couch as she undressed her bloody gauze like i was just making myself at home, and prayed i wouldn't literally have to put my head between my knees (i didn´t, just barely).
david thinks all i need is a little more exposure to gore, but i think i'm maybe just not meant for a career in trauma... it's not the blood and guts that bothers me (as i explained to him, i can hardly think of anything overtly more disgusting than having my face 4cm from a woman's undercarriage for 20 straight hours as she spews gallons of blood/fluids/feces/urine during the miracle that is childbirth, yet this doesn't make me woozy in the slightest. in fact, it makes me happy!), but i think the uncertainty of what might be lurking under those layers of bloody gauze (anyone who knows me is aware i´m not a fan of surprises of any persuasion). in this case, merely a glorified paper cut...yet it really got to me. ick.
anyway, as a part of this volunteer program, i receive two hours of intensive one on one spanish lessons each weekday. i realized 15 minutes into day one that being in class without any other classmates to shoulder the burden of the socratic method, and without my laptop, is similar to torture in a lot of ways. at first i was thinking i've never had a two hour class, so i'm just not conditioned for that length of attention span. then i realized i've actually had several, but as the rows behind me can attest, i probably paid attention for the first 3 minutes, followed by 117 more of reading food blogs. (101cookbooks.com is always my go-to.)
i was relieved when, in a friday class, my profesor took it easy on the contrived grammar (quick, make a sentence using these two irregular verbs combining the pluperfect and past subjunctive!) to reveal that he once worked as economist, and proceeded to engage me in a truly interesting lecture about the costa rican economy. while i'm sure not having internet access helped cultivate my interest, i was so into his talk that i took a buncha notes, mostly so i can sound really worldly on this blog and impress all the afficionados who can´t seem to refrain from making witty comments.
our conversation commenced with me complaining, as usual, about the cost of food. we have found a couple ways that ticans can comp those costs, like cheap public transit and entertainment (movies, sporting events), but the main way to make up for $6 boxes of cornflakes seems to be in rent. apparently, for what we pay in ann arbor, we could rent the most palatial of homes in the most exclusive part of costa rica. but then of course, we´d miss the 8 months of winter. anyway, tedi explained that ticans just eat a sh't ton of rice and beans at every meal to fill their bellies in a way that´s gentle on the wallet (and indeed, we´ve enjoyed this tradition at breakfast with gallo pinto or ¨spotted rooster¨: rice and beans with an egg or meat on top; and at lunch and dinner with casados or ¨married,¨ as in the delicious marriage of these flavors: rice, beans, meat, plantains and vegetables).
in reality, the costa rican economy is ¨weak but stable¨ according to tedi, and relies heavily on tourism to stay afloat. there are five main kinds of tourism here, some positive for the society, and unfortunately, some negative. positive forms of tourism include cruises (which don´t much boost the economy since cruises are all inclusive); eco tourism, in which people not only donate generous sums of green to the country to live in a very green way, but also often participate in ecological rehabilitation projects; mochileros, or backpackers, who also contribute positively because they typically travel through the country for an extended period, and in attempts to live cheaply, eat and sleep in locally run establishments rather than, say, best western san jose. and finally, education. costa rica has over 200 schools (in quite a tiny country) where foreigners primarily come to learn spanish. the costa rican accent is mild, the country is politically far more stable than it's central and south american neighbors, and compared to tuition in the u.s, costa rica is pretty inexpensive (until you start to eat).
medical tourism deserves a category of it's own, and in intself has three main draws. as aforementioned in this blog, medical care in this country is pretty top notch, as most doctors receive their training in europe and the states, but like to bring it home when they're actually licensed. ticans have a lotta pride in their country, and don´t even try to get a job that any tican could hold down if you weren´t born here. dentistry is huge here--one of our roommates is in costa rica for precisely that reason. next, of course, is plastic surgery. apparently you can nip and tuck to your heart's content and book your month of recovery at a five star spa, all for a grand total of about 50% of what the surgery alone would run you in the states. the third and final branch of medical tourism (which i found particularly interesting) is long term chiropractic treatment. apparently many docs in the u.s. refer their patients (chronic pain sufferers, accident survivors, etc) to costa rica for longer term, serious chiropractic regimens to realign their vertebrae or what have you.
two additional forms of tourism exist in this country that, while they do stimulate the economy, have negative ramifications that outweigh the benefits of those contributions. quickly gaining popularity here is narco-tourism, i.e., come to costa rica, do some drugs. or a lot of drugs. while i understand that drug use is illegal and it's "bad" to break the law, i had to ask my prof what exactly ruffles the ticans feathers about foreigners using drugs in the country...if they're boosting the economy, no harm no foul, right?
apprently not. while costa rica does grow its' own marijuana, crack and cocaine must be imported (usually from, you won't believe it, colombia). in countries where these goods actually are produced, we see a lot of issues regarding which group controls production and trafficking. in costa rica, this problem exists on a smaller scale because the drugs cannot grow here, so instead, crime rates have increased notably in port cities on both coasts, related to which group can control import and sales. mini cartels, if you will.
and next on the list of negative tourism is that of the sexual sort...apparently costa rica can hold its' own against thailand (david can attest personally to the aggressive sexual tourism in that country...that's all i'll say here and you can ask him for the details...), which is pretty impressive, or sh*tty if you're an unfortunate costa rican child. that's correct--the darkest aspect of this tourism category has to be pedophilia. it's such an issue in this country that virtually the first thing you see when you deboard the plane into the san jose airport is a sign reminding you that sex with minors is indeed illegal. unfortunately, i imagine those individuals specifically seeking out that activity may need more than a written reminder to change their plans...
otherwise, sexual tourism sort of functions under the don't ask, don't tell policy. prostitution, as tedi explained it, is neither legal nor illegal here (still trying to figure out what that means, so just go with it), and most ticans who want nothing to do with it just turn the other cheek. david kindly oriented me to a (one of the?) bar downtown where ladies go to work, and i don´t mean mix drinks. oddly, said bar consisted of only scantily clad mamacitas and ugly, overweight, old white men. david and i fit in perfectly.
anyhow, prositutes are all required to carry a card, updated frequently, that declares their health status (eg, what, if any, undesirable microorganisms dwell in their netherregions). ticans don't eff around about their public health... in addition, virtually nobody smokes here except in bars (exactly the opposite of the u.s.) and every year the government conducts a census of *every* household to check on vaccinations, health status, etc. and update. pretty nifty.
stop, rest, regroup.
now, the costa rican economy does rely on a couple things other than tourism, although foreign exploitation of the country still plays a role (of course). it shouldn't shock you that costa rica exports it's share of coffee (95% straight to starbucks), as well as some unique fruits, vegetables, and flowers to much of the western world. but ticans also engage in relations that can be construed as symbiotic or parasitic, depending on who you ask about it.
those that err on the side of symbiotic include large pharaceutical companies like pfizer, who set up shop and produce medical equipment/legal drugs on the cheap. also in this group are technological companies like dell, who have huge call centers around the country. these projects do create many jobs for ticans for a decent salary, while the u.s. based companies get to save big time on material and opportunity costs. so, it´s kind of a win win if you´re the glass-half-full-manifest-destiny type.
pardon me while i hoist myself up on this banana shaped soapbox.
like tomatoes in the u.s. (and a million other things in a million other places), bananas in costa rica are a grave issue in terms of, sorry mom, f-ing morals and ethics and the {mis}treatment of human workers (slaves?). to simplify it, americans like bananas. americans have money. bananas don´t grow in america 365 days a year. and so, we import, and tropical countries export...another win win if you´re the glass-half-full-carbon-footprint-loving type. but if america is going to have any say in any type of production, it´s got to be bigger, better, faster, stronger, regardless of the destruction this attitude leaves in its´wake.
we´ve all heard horror stories about the different pesticides that have wreaked havoc on various species in the u.s., and have thus been prohibited (much to the dismay, i´m sure, of souless folk who have to cough up an extra cent per gallon as a result). some of these pesticides and fertilizers do more than just thin the shells of eagle eggs (not to minimize that impact whatsoever), they leave grown men sterile, or their wives pregnant with malformed fetuses. yikes--of course those got pulled from the shelves asap. in america.
but south of the border, where human lives apparently are worth less (or worthless?) since they are outside the scope of our constitution, these damning chemicals are sprayed aplenty all over banana plantations and their human tenders, to produce the perfect, yellow, smooth, large bananas chiquita promises us. keeping with the wholly unnatural way americans eat, we usually purchase perfect looking produce that could not possibly grow naturally from megastores that carry things totally out of season, supporting unethical practices just like these (and typically, tasting like dung). alternately, you´d never find a large, perfect banana in a costa rican store or market...tedi reassures me that if one were to turn up, the ticans would be too freaked out by its´flawlessness and size to purchase or consume it.
and before i step down from my box, may i please urge all of you, when meandering through the aisles of your local grocer under flickering neon lights, to stop and consider (for meat and produce especially), where your selected item may have come from? who tended that plant? what kind of working conditions did they have? what kind of living conditions? what did that cow eat? how did it live? and maybe just as importantly, how did it die?
i know, i know. ignorance is bliss (what up, darfur). but before you write me off as some ann arbor backpacking once vegan hippie freak and grab your bananas without a second thought, perhaps imagine instead the impact that two second choice (and only marginal increase in cost for organic## bananas, by the way) might have if many made it. lest we forget the econ 101 tennet of supply and demand...a coupla dollars over the course of your banana eating life might mean healthy sperm and babies with the correct amount of appendages in the correct places for many a tican family. just some bananas for thought.
stepping down now...we´ll be in touch about our farewell to san jose and our greetings to the rest of the country...
##no astericks on this keyboard, i improvised. for those of you who aren´t way privy to the up and coming organic way of life, or for those of you who want to shove me off my bananabox, a note about organics.
organic does not mean healthy, angelic, or great. that label only specifies certain things--the types of pesticides used, not the total absence of them, for example. buying organic does not necessarily mean you´re doing the best thing for your health or for society (you can surely buy organic and out of season...the gas for transport and the chemicals to foster growth might outweigh the benefits).
in my humble opinion, your best bet is to locate and hit up your local farmer´s market as often as you can (sorry michiganders...) for produce. even farmers who spray at least can tell you all there is to know about their goods, and you´re paying the person directly who loved and nurtured your food (it´s fun to ask them about that), rather than a jacked up price to cover the costs of running a super store, not to mention it traveled at most a few miles to get to you (more like a carbon thumbprint).
and if you must have your banana in february (i too am guilty of this), go organic.
okay, now i´m really stepping down.
i'll begin with the following: earlier this week, i almost simultaneously fainted and vomited all over the living room of a woman who called our ambulance after (slightly) cutting her index finger. ironically, this is precisely what happened to a patient the previous night, but he was simultaneously suffering a stroke and heart attack, and is also paraplegic (less lucky, that guy). i'm not sure what my excuse is. i tried to play it cool and promptly sat myself on her couch as she undressed her bloody gauze like i was just making myself at home, and prayed i wouldn't literally have to put my head between my knees (i didn´t, just barely).
david thinks all i need is a little more exposure to gore, but i think i'm maybe just not meant for a career in trauma... it's not the blood and guts that bothers me (as i explained to him, i can hardly think of anything overtly more disgusting than having my face 4cm from a woman's undercarriage for 20 straight hours as she spews gallons of blood/fluids/feces/urine during the miracle that is childbirth, yet this doesn't make me woozy in the slightest. in fact, it makes me happy!), but i think the uncertainty of what might be lurking under those layers of bloody gauze (anyone who knows me is aware i´m not a fan of surprises of any persuasion). in this case, merely a glorified paper cut...yet it really got to me. ick.
anyway, as a part of this volunteer program, i receive two hours of intensive one on one spanish lessons each weekday. i realized 15 minutes into day one that being in class without any other classmates to shoulder the burden of the socratic method, and without my laptop, is similar to torture in a lot of ways. at first i was thinking i've never had a two hour class, so i'm just not conditioned for that length of attention span. then i realized i've actually had several, but as the rows behind me can attest, i probably paid attention for the first 3 minutes, followed by 117 more of reading food blogs. (101cookbooks.com is always my go-to.)
i was relieved when, in a friday class, my profesor took it easy on the contrived grammar (quick, make a sentence using these two irregular verbs combining the pluperfect and past subjunctive!) to reveal that he once worked as economist, and proceeded to engage me in a truly interesting lecture about the costa rican economy. while i'm sure not having internet access helped cultivate my interest, i was so into his talk that i took a buncha notes, mostly so i can sound really worldly on this blog and impress all the afficionados who can´t seem to refrain from making witty comments.
our conversation commenced with me complaining, as usual, about the cost of food. we have found a couple ways that ticans can comp those costs, like cheap public transit and entertainment (movies, sporting events), but the main way to make up for $6 boxes of cornflakes seems to be in rent. apparently, for what we pay in ann arbor, we could rent the most palatial of homes in the most exclusive part of costa rica. but then of course, we´d miss the 8 months of winter. anyway, tedi explained that ticans just eat a sh't ton of rice and beans at every meal to fill their bellies in a way that´s gentle on the wallet (and indeed, we´ve enjoyed this tradition at breakfast with gallo pinto or ¨spotted rooster¨: rice and beans with an egg or meat on top; and at lunch and dinner with casados or ¨married,¨ as in the delicious marriage of these flavors: rice, beans, meat, plantains and vegetables).
in reality, the costa rican economy is ¨weak but stable¨ according to tedi, and relies heavily on tourism to stay afloat. there are five main kinds of tourism here, some positive for the society, and unfortunately, some negative. positive forms of tourism include cruises (which don´t much boost the economy since cruises are all inclusive); eco tourism, in which people not only donate generous sums of green to the country to live in a very green way, but also often participate in ecological rehabilitation projects; mochileros, or backpackers, who also contribute positively because they typically travel through the country for an extended period, and in attempts to live cheaply, eat and sleep in locally run establishments rather than, say, best western san jose. and finally, education. costa rica has over 200 schools (in quite a tiny country) where foreigners primarily come to learn spanish. the costa rican accent is mild, the country is politically far more stable than it's central and south american neighbors, and compared to tuition in the u.s, costa rica is pretty inexpensive (until you start to eat).
medical tourism deserves a category of it's own, and in intself has three main draws. as aforementioned in this blog, medical care in this country is pretty top notch, as most doctors receive their training in europe and the states, but like to bring it home when they're actually licensed. ticans have a lotta pride in their country, and don´t even try to get a job that any tican could hold down if you weren´t born here. dentistry is huge here--one of our roommates is in costa rica for precisely that reason. next, of course, is plastic surgery. apparently you can nip and tuck to your heart's content and book your month of recovery at a five star spa, all for a grand total of about 50% of what the surgery alone would run you in the states. the third and final branch of medical tourism (which i found particularly interesting) is long term chiropractic treatment. apparently many docs in the u.s. refer their patients (chronic pain sufferers, accident survivors, etc) to costa rica for longer term, serious chiropractic regimens to realign their vertebrae or what have you.
two additional forms of tourism exist in this country that, while they do stimulate the economy, have negative ramifications that outweigh the benefits of those contributions. quickly gaining popularity here is narco-tourism, i.e., come to costa rica, do some drugs. or a lot of drugs. while i understand that drug use is illegal and it's "bad" to break the law, i had to ask my prof what exactly ruffles the ticans feathers about foreigners using drugs in the country...if they're boosting the economy, no harm no foul, right?
apprently not. while costa rica does grow its' own marijuana, crack and cocaine must be imported (usually from, you won't believe it, colombia). in countries where these goods actually are produced, we see a lot of issues regarding which group controls production and trafficking. in costa rica, this problem exists on a smaller scale because the drugs cannot grow here, so instead, crime rates have increased notably in port cities on both coasts, related to which group can control import and sales. mini cartels, if you will.
and next on the list of negative tourism is that of the sexual sort...apparently costa rica can hold its' own against thailand (david can attest personally to the aggressive sexual tourism in that country...that's all i'll say here and you can ask him for the details...), which is pretty impressive, or sh*tty if you're an unfortunate costa rican child. that's correct--the darkest aspect of this tourism category has to be pedophilia. it's such an issue in this country that virtually the first thing you see when you deboard the plane into the san jose airport is a sign reminding you that sex with minors is indeed illegal. unfortunately, i imagine those individuals specifically seeking out that activity may need more than a written reminder to change their plans...
otherwise, sexual tourism sort of functions under the don't ask, don't tell policy. prostitution, as tedi explained it, is neither legal nor illegal here (still trying to figure out what that means, so just go with it), and most ticans who want nothing to do with it just turn the other cheek. david kindly oriented me to a (one of the?) bar downtown where ladies go to work, and i don´t mean mix drinks. oddly, said bar consisted of only scantily clad mamacitas and ugly, overweight, old white men. david and i fit in perfectly.
anyhow, prositutes are all required to carry a card, updated frequently, that declares their health status (eg, what, if any, undesirable microorganisms dwell in their netherregions). ticans don't eff around about their public health... in addition, virtually nobody smokes here except in bars (exactly the opposite of the u.s.) and every year the government conducts a census of *every* household to check on vaccinations, health status, etc. and update. pretty nifty.
stop, rest, regroup.
now, the costa rican economy does rely on a couple things other than tourism, although foreign exploitation of the country still plays a role (of course). it shouldn't shock you that costa rica exports it's share of coffee (95% straight to starbucks), as well as some unique fruits, vegetables, and flowers to much of the western world. but ticans also engage in relations that can be construed as symbiotic or parasitic, depending on who you ask about it.
those that err on the side of symbiotic include large pharaceutical companies like pfizer, who set up shop and produce medical equipment/legal drugs on the cheap. also in this group are technological companies like dell, who have huge call centers around the country. these projects do create many jobs for ticans for a decent salary, while the u.s. based companies get to save big time on material and opportunity costs. so, it´s kind of a win win if you´re the glass-half-full-manifest-destiny type.
pardon me while i hoist myself up on this banana shaped soapbox.
like tomatoes in the u.s. (and a million other things in a million other places), bananas in costa rica are a grave issue in terms of, sorry mom, f-ing morals and ethics and the {mis}treatment of human workers (slaves?). to simplify it, americans like bananas. americans have money. bananas don´t grow in america 365 days a year. and so, we import, and tropical countries export...another win win if you´re the glass-half-full-carbon-footprint-loving type. but if america is going to have any say in any type of production, it´s got to be bigger, better, faster, stronger, regardless of the destruction this attitude leaves in its´wake.
we´ve all heard horror stories about the different pesticides that have wreaked havoc on various species in the u.s., and have thus been prohibited (much to the dismay, i´m sure, of souless folk who have to cough up an extra cent per gallon as a result). some of these pesticides and fertilizers do more than just thin the shells of eagle eggs (not to minimize that impact whatsoever), they leave grown men sterile, or their wives pregnant with malformed fetuses. yikes--of course those got pulled from the shelves asap. in america.
but south of the border, where human lives apparently are worth less (or worthless?) since they are outside the scope of our constitution, these damning chemicals are sprayed aplenty all over banana plantations and their human tenders, to produce the perfect, yellow, smooth, large bananas chiquita promises us. keeping with the wholly unnatural way americans eat, we usually purchase perfect looking produce that could not possibly grow naturally from megastores that carry things totally out of season, supporting unethical practices just like these (and typically, tasting like dung). alternately, you´d never find a large, perfect banana in a costa rican store or market...tedi reassures me that if one were to turn up, the ticans would be too freaked out by its´flawlessness and size to purchase or consume it.
and before i step down from my box, may i please urge all of you, when meandering through the aisles of your local grocer under flickering neon lights, to stop and consider (for meat and produce especially), where your selected item may have come from? who tended that plant? what kind of working conditions did they have? what kind of living conditions? what did that cow eat? how did it live? and maybe just as importantly, how did it die?
i know, i know. ignorance is bliss (what up, darfur). but before you write me off as some ann arbor backpacking once vegan hippie freak and grab your bananas without a second thought, perhaps imagine instead the impact that two second choice (and only marginal increase in cost for organic## bananas, by the way) might have if many made it. lest we forget the econ 101 tennet of supply and demand...a coupla dollars over the course of your banana eating life might mean healthy sperm and babies with the correct amount of appendages in the correct places for many a tican family. just some bananas for thought.
stepping down now...we´ll be in touch about our farewell to san jose and our greetings to the rest of the country...
##no astericks on this keyboard, i improvised. for those of you who aren´t way privy to the up and coming organic way of life, or for those of you who want to shove me off my bananabox, a note about organics.
organic does not mean healthy, angelic, or great. that label only specifies certain things--the types of pesticides used, not the total absence of them, for example. buying organic does not necessarily mean you´re doing the best thing for your health or for society (you can surely buy organic and out of season...the gas for transport and the chemicals to foster growth might outweigh the benefits).
in my humble opinion, your best bet is to locate and hit up your local farmer´s market as often as you can (sorry michiganders...) for produce. even farmers who spray at least can tell you all there is to know about their goods, and you´re paying the person directly who loved and nurtured your food (it´s fun to ask them about that), rather than a jacked up price to cover the costs of running a super store, not to mention it traveled at most a few miles to get to you (more like a carbon thumbprint).
and if you must have your banana in february (i too am guilty of this), go organic.
okay, now i´m really stepping down.
Monday, April 20, 2009
bienvenidos a chavelo´s.
d: on one of my first nights here, the tican boyfriend of a girl who was staying at our place had two recommendations when i asked about places that are quintessentially costa rica but are not in any guide book: the farmers’ market in guadalupe, and the small town of cachi. having already hit up the market (*great* touristless event; see last post), we set off early yesterday morning for the supposed 45 min bus ride to cachi. the actual ride however took us over two hours due to a procession (a walkathon of sorts) lasting about 4 miles that kept traffic at a more or less of a standstill.
apparently, every sunday after easter, a town between san jose and cachi gathers around an image of the locally-worshipped virgin (forgot what her name was; the catholicism here will really blow your mind), and follows her from one town, down a very steep valley wall, to another—then they all turn around and head back home. quite an interesting event, this one. additionally, we (i) were very entertained by a 4-month-old sitting in front of us with her mom. throughout the whole trip she would look me directly in the eye and smile brightly, then would turn to ash and give her a flat-out scowl. great times.
view from the bus and virgin walkathoners:
a: oddly enough, said infant of course took a liking to me first as all babies and dogs do, and was all smiles until she began glancing in david´s direction... i wondered why he was frowning at this jubilant little cherub, and when i saw his glee at observing this formerly smiley bundle giving me looks of death, it all came together. david denies anything of the sort, yet continues to ask me daily why i think this child was so angry at me.
d: we finally arrived to cachi (smaller.). we looked around briefly and realized that we were without a plan or even any idea of what might go on there besides the fact that there was a river somewhere. in fact, had we not spoken to a woman on the bus earlier in the trip, we wouldn’t’ve known that we were even in cachi. we refueled at a local soda (cheap tican restaurant) and asked the dude behind the counter how two outta towners should spend their day. he pointed to a hill and suggested we head up it to see what we could find. we picked up some picnic goodies at the market and up we went, heading towards our favorite day of the trip thus far…
the town was generally pretty quiet outside of the main soccer field at its heart where kids around 11 years old played as we arrived and men well into their 40s played as we left. just as everywhere else we’ve spent time, the people were extremely attentive and courteous. cachi lies at a far lower elevation than does san jose, so the hills surrounding are covered in beautiful dense tropical jungle. the community is one row of homes deep on either side of the only road heading up this very steep hill.
we could hear a river the whole walk up but only finally laid eyes on it about 30 mins in, where a group of 8-10 teenage boys (and one poor girl) were spending their sunday jumping off a rock into a pool that had previously been dammed to what must’ve been a depth of at least 10 feet considering the way they were diving… among the peace and serenity of our day to that point, nothing could possibly have prepared us for one house in particular. it was on our right as we approached; dolls that had been mutilated, beheaded and otherwise very wrongly abused hung on the property’s front gate. more outtaplace, most disturbing. directly in front of the gate was a sign that read: for sale. sweet mercy. the property actually had three different gates, all with similar brow-furrowing decor. we looked past the 3rd gate to find a sign that finally gave some hint as to who would choose to “decorate” in such a manner: dr suchandsuch, orthopedic and trauma surgeon. not sure what to add to that.
at the top of the hill, two miles up and well past where the roads had stopped being paved, was a trucheria (trout fishery) owned by this dude (nicest. coolest.) named isaac (call me “chavelo”) who approached us with an outstretched hand as we walked onto the grounds to say hello and introduce himself. he suggested we continue up a path above his place to check out the scene and come back down for a fish lunch.
a: david failed to mention that meeting isaac-chavelo shed light upon his own family history. all his life, david has referred to his aunt isabel as ¨chava,¨ short for ¨chavela.¨ apparently chavelo-a is the common nickname for isabel or isaac, but david never knew the significance. i thought that was kinda cool.
d: we walked up about another 300 yards to what was literally the abrupt ending of civilization and beginning of the jungle, where we sat and had our picnic.
a: i can picnic anywhere.
d: after coming back down and relaxing a bit, we decided it was about time to try a trout. chavelo asked us if we’d like to fish it ourselves—of course we agreed. fortunately i was at the helm on this one, as fishing at this particular locale requires intimate knowledge of trout tendencies and behavior. that, combined with my expertise in bait and tackle allowed for us to celebrate the catching of a trout after a grueling struggle that made me appreciate having kept in shape over the years.
a: similar to the saying ¨shooting fish in a barrel,¨ at chavelo´s one can ¨catch fish in over populated puddle.¨ check out the video of this manly, carnal triumph, and pay close attention to the look of pride (terror?) as his kill flops around in his face:
you´ll notice chavelo is gripping the trophy with his fingers in the gills...this is just where he inserted them in order to rip the trout´s head off, which left a red badge of courage right on david´s foot. and that´s where it stayed the rest of the afternoon, so that no trout would let their guard down.
d: exhausted and sore from the experience, i entered with ash to watch chavelo’s friend isaidro chop up my worthy prey and fry it nice n tasty along with some plantains for what was really a perfectly relaxing experience capping off the afternoon. again, the beauty of this place really lay in the fact that we were the only lightskins around; a few of the men gathered around a table gambled with dominoes as ash and I served as apprentices in the kitchen and enjoyed our feast.
a: fried plantains and a beer suits me just fine, though i realize david had an additional layer of appreciation for his meal since he slaughtered the beast himself.
we can’t comment enough on how awesome everyone who we’ve met here is...
apparently, every sunday after easter, a town between san jose and cachi gathers around an image of the locally-worshipped virgin (forgot what her name was; the catholicism here will really blow your mind), and follows her from one town, down a very steep valley wall, to another—then they all turn around and head back home. quite an interesting event, this one. additionally, we (i) were very entertained by a 4-month-old sitting in front of us with her mom. throughout the whole trip she would look me directly in the eye and smile brightly, then would turn to ash and give her a flat-out scowl. great times.
view from the bus and virgin walkathoners:
a: oddly enough, said infant of course took a liking to me first as all babies and dogs do, and was all smiles until she began glancing in david´s direction... i wondered why he was frowning at this jubilant little cherub, and when i saw his glee at observing this formerly smiley bundle giving me looks of death, it all came together. david denies anything of the sort, yet continues to ask me daily why i think this child was so angry at me.
d: we finally arrived to cachi (smaller.). we looked around briefly and realized that we were without a plan or even any idea of what might go on there besides the fact that there was a river somewhere. in fact, had we not spoken to a woman on the bus earlier in the trip, we wouldn’t’ve known that we were even in cachi. we refueled at a local soda (cheap tican restaurant) and asked the dude behind the counter how two outta towners should spend their day. he pointed to a hill and suggested we head up it to see what we could find. we picked up some picnic goodies at the market and up we went, heading towards our favorite day of the trip thus far…
the town was generally pretty quiet outside of the main soccer field at its heart where kids around 11 years old played as we arrived and men well into their 40s played as we left. just as everywhere else we’ve spent time, the people were extremely attentive and courteous. cachi lies at a far lower elevation than does san jose, so the hills surrounding are covered in beautiful dense tropical jungle. the community is one row of homes deep on either side of the only road heading up this very steep hill.
we could hear a river the whole walk up but only finally laid eyes on it about 30 mins in, where a group of 8-10 teenage boys (and one poor girl) were spending their sunday jumping off a rock into a pool that had previously been dammed to what must’ve been a depth of at least 10 feet considering the way they were diving… among the peace and serenity of our day to that point, nothing could possibly have prepared us for one house in particular. it was on our right as we approached; dolls that had been mutilated, beheaded and otherwise very wrongly abused hung on the property’s front gate. more outtaplace, most disturbing. directly in front of the gate was a sign that read: for sale. sweet mercy. the property actually had three different gates, all with similar brow-furrowing decor. we looked past the 3rd gate to find a sign that finally gave some hint as to who would choose to “decorate” in such a manner: dr suchandsuch, orthopedic and trauma surgeon. not sure what to add to that.
at the top of the hill, two miles up and well past where the roads had stopped being paved, was a trucheria (trout fishery) owned by this dude (nicest. coolest.) named isaac (call me “chavelo”) who approached us with an outstretched hand as we walked onto the grounds to say hello and introduce himself. he suggested we continue up a path above his place to check out the scene and come back down for a fish lunch.
a: david failed to mention that meeting isaac-chavelo shed light upon his own family history. all his life, david has referred to his aunt isabel as ¨chava,¨ short for ¨chavela.¨ apparently chavelo-a is the common nickname for isabel or isaac, but david never knew the significance. i thought that was kinda cool.
d: we walked up about another 300 yards to what was literally the abrupt ending of civilization and beginning of the jungle, where we sat and had our picnic.
a: i can picnic anywhere.
d: after coming back down and relaxing a bit, we decided it was about time to try a trout. chavelo asked us if we’d like to fish it ourselves—of course we agreed. fortunately i was at the helm on this one, as fishing at this particular locale requires intimate knowledge of trout tendencies and behavior. that, combined with my expertise in bait and tackle allowed for us to celebrate the catching of a trout after a grueling struggle that made me appreciate having kept in shape over the years.
a: similar to the saying ¨shooting fish in a barrel,¨ at chavelo´s one can ¨catch fish in over populated puddle.¨ check out the video of this manly, carnal triumph, and pay close attention to the look of pride (terror?) as his kill flops around in his face:
you´ll notice chavelo is gripping the trophy with his fingers in the gills...this is just where he inserted them in order to rip the trout´s head off, which left a red badge of courage right on david´s foot. and that´s where it stayed the rest of the afternoon, so that no trout would let their guard down.
d: exhausted and sore from the experience, i entered with ash to watch chavelo’s friend isaidro chop up my worthy prey and fry it nice n tasty along with some plantains for what was really a perfectly relaxing experience capping off the afternoon. again, the beauty of this place really lay in the fact that we were the only lightskins around; a few of the men gathered around a table gambled with dominoes as ash and I served as apprentices in the kitchen and enjoyed our feast.
a: fried plantains and a beer suits me just fine, though i realize david had an additional layer of appreciation for his meal since he slaughtered the beast himself.
we can’t comment enough on how awesome everyone who we’ve met here is...
Saturday, April 18, 2009
la vida cotidiana.
grab a cuppa coffee or a cerveza and settle in...this is a long one.
a: for better or worse, everything i cleverly composed over the last half hour was deleted, so readers can now relish in the much abbreviated, much less humorous, much more pissed off version of our quotidian life.
as aforementioned, we live in a "suburb" of san jose called san pedro, those these suburbs are of course a far cry from those of detroit. our compound is composed of three parts, the main house (where our hosts live and argue loudly each morning), a guest house (where our roommates live and where david resided prior to my arrival), and our apartment, complete with a private kitchen, bathroom, living room, and occasional cockroaches that, based on their sheer size, i would approximate have been living there since the cretaceous period.
a: as much of a bummer as it is that david couldn´t get in touch with his people at the children´s hospital, it has worked out great for me to have him on board with my assignments. while the paramedics we work with are truly awesome people (not hard to see why david fit in so well with that group when he was a paramedic in the states...seems that not only the practice but also the personalities are much the same in cr and the us...all of them are super friendly, outgoing, sociable, and smart), it seems that one of the job requirements is to speak about 100x faster than the average citizen. considering i have no medical training beyond prime time hospital dramas, i can´t tell you how comforting it is to have a calm and gentle voice whispering slowly in my ear, in english, where to stick electrodes on cute little old ladies with cardiac ischemia, for example. and, i don´t have to pay attention to what bus i´m getting on or when to cross the street--also very difficult tasks for me to complete solo.
a: and, to their credit, the medics are really considerate about maximizing our experience. the night shifts are surprisingly pretty quiet, so in between picking up quiznos carryout for their girlfriends and participating in a team photo shoot in front of their largest truck, they took us to see different hospitals and to hang out in the red cross call room. and to get ice cream sandwiches. mmmmm.
d: our very first day on the job was also supposed to entail shadowing a local general practioner in her clinic for several hours. unfortunately, however, she did not have any appointments that morning. no worries, she removed a few moles from my back as ashley watched, then asked ash if she wanted to remove the final one. ashley agreed and did a marvelous job with her first ever lidocaine injection and bovie treatment. i was very proud. the doc hooked me up to the ECG machine to show how it worked-- good lord that thing was old. i'm talkin maybe 1960s-style suction cups all over my chest. see picture if you young folk are wondering what ECGs must've used to look like...
a: alright, here´s what *actually* happened. the dr had no patients, somehow this quickly evolved into prodding some of david´s moles and offering to remove them to enrich my morning. i don´t know if it was the bus ride or the heat or my hunger or what, but something about watching her trade off between burning david´s flesh via electric shock and then sloppily burrowing and scraping at it with blunt tweezers made me a little queasy. i discreetly looked away for the removal of the following three moles, so when david joked around that "now ashley should be ready to do one...see one, do one, teach one!" i merely giggled nervously and tried not to vurp.
d: we took advantage of our first morning off today to go to a local farmers' market and load up on some excellent fresh fruits/veggies. while the food here is generally very expensive (at least as pricey as in the states, as we've previously mentioned), the market had some great deals on some very high quality food. much of it is totally foreign to us by both name and appearance. we closed out the morning with a straw in a coconut and a 'pinto,' which is the local traditional breakfast of rice and beans with meat. excellent.
...just got an email back from barry, the wealthy divorced retiree who has decided that life in costa rica is far more relaxing than life in the states and has permanently set up shop down around here. he worked in banking for many years and was divorced very young without any kids. his most serious relationship since then ended about 5 years ago: he was dating a UPenn medical student but broke up with her when she graduated and started talking about marriage.
a: for better or worse, everything i cleverly composed over the last half hour was deleted, so readers can now relish in the much abbreviated, much less humorous, much more pissed off version of our quotidian life.
as aforementioned, we live in a "suburb" of san jose called san pedro, those these suburbs are of course a far cry from those of detroit. our compound is composed of three parts, the main house (where our hosts live and argue loudly each morning), a guest house (where our roommates live and where david resided prior to my arrival), and our apartment, complete with a private kitchen, bathroom, living room, and occasional cockroaches that, based on their sheer size, i would approximate have been living there since the cretaceous period.
our courtyard is typically abuzz with the sounds of arguing adults, yelling children, and three dogs, one of whom i´ve taken a particular liking to: a four month old chow named "chowchi." i can´t decide if this is because he reminds me of our very fat and fluffy cat, ben, or because he reminds me of david.
we are managing to keep very busy, at least that´s what we tell ourselves when we drag ourselves to bed at 8pm, thoroughly exhausted. some more insight into how we´re spending our days:
we are managing to keep very busy, at least that´s what we tell ourselves when we drag ourselves to bed at 8pm, thoroughly exhausted. some more insight into how we´re spending our days:
d: my scheduled rotation here blatantly just did not end up materializing, as my contact dropped off the face of the planet. long story short, emails used to take weeks to be returned; now they just disappeared i suppose. it might have been a blessing in disguise, however, as i have jumped on board with ashley's program to ride around in a private san jose ambulance for a couple of weeks. we do assist as needed but more than anything we just observe the paramedic practices here and get a chance to lay eyes on many of the local emergency rooms.
the scope of practice for the medics here is quite similar to the scope of practice in the states. their drug boxes look almost identical, although they do stock many medicines (ibuprofen, antiemetics, topical lidocaine) for use in non-emergent situations that aren't used in the field back home. the whole gig is really working out quite nicely, especially since those with whom we're working, as everyone else we've met, are really great hosts and are curious about us and about life in the states.
a: as much of a bummer as it is that david couldn´t get in touch with his people at the children´s hospital, it has worked out great for me to have him on board with my assignments. while the paramedics we work with are truly awesome people (not hard to see why david fit in so well with that group when he was a paramedic in the states...seems that not only the practice but also the personalities are much the same in cr and the us...all of them are super friendly, outgoing, sociable, and smart), it seems that one of the job requirements is to speak about 100x faster than the average citizen. considering i have no medical training beyond prime time hospital dramas, i can´t tell you how comforting it is to have a calm and gentle voice whispering slowly in my ear, in english, where to stick electrodes on cute little old ladies with cardiac ischemia, for example. and, i don´t have to pay attention to what bus i´m getting on or when to cross the street--also very difficult tasks for me to complete solo.
d: thus far, major highlight has been watching paul (a large, burly tican medic) show himself off by very seriously singing along with Eternal Flame by the bangles (in the proper octave), as well as Gangsta's Paradise by coolio (back to back, no less). i can guarantee that hearing those songs sung in ESL will really put a smile on your face.
a: i dunno, i kinda liked it when he showed us the picture of the guy missing half his face from an explosion, or better yet, the one who got hit by a bus and who´s skull was literally crushed with his brains spread all over the street. honestly, i read in cars all the time. bringing motion sickness meds was really an afterthought, but never has my nausea in a vehicle been more pronounced than when cruising around in the trunk of a non air conditioned ambulance looking at pictures of brain evisceration.
d: for better or worse, the recent change in traffic laws (increased penalties for illegal turns, drunk driving, etc) has really decreased the number of car wrecks and subsequent trauma calls-- while we can't say that we've been on any life-changing calls thus far, we've gotten a taste of the local barrios in a way that we would never have otherwise been able. it's a very real dose of the culture to be able to enter daycare centers, homes, etc as healthcare workers to be able to see how everyday people live. and again: one cool thing about emergency medicine is that you never know what lies in store tomorrow. we're excited for our remaining shifts.
a: and, to their credit, the medics are really considerate about maximizing our experience. the night shifts are surprisingly pretty quiet, so in between picking up quiznos carryout for their girlfriends and participating in a team photo shoot in front of their largest truck, they took us to see different hospitals and to hang out in the red cross call room. and to get ice cream sandwiches. mmmmm.
d: our very first day on the job was also supposed to entail shadowing a local general practioner in her clinic for several hours. unfortunately, however, she did not have any appointments that morning. no worries, she removed a few moles from my back as ashley watched, then asked ash if she wanted to remove the final one. ashley agreed and did a marvelous job with her first ever lidocaine injection and bovie treatment. i was very proud. the doc hooked me up to the ECG machine to show how it worked-- good lord that thing was old. i'm talkin maybe 1960s-style suction cups all over my chest. see picture if you young folk are wondering what ECGs must've used to look like...
a: alright, here´s what *actually* happened. the dr had no patients, somehow this quickly evolved into prodding some of david´s moles and offering to remove them to enrich my morning. i don´t know if it was the bus ride or the heat or my hunger or what, but something about watching her trade off between burning david´s flesh via electric shock and then sloppily burrowing and scraping at it with blunt tweezers made me a little queasy. i discreetly looked away for the removal of the following three moles, so when david joked around that "now ashley should be ready to do one...see one, do one, teach one!" i merely giggled nervously and tried not to vurp.
imagine my horror when dr. brenes grinned, handed me a syringe full of lidocaine(which i´ve of course never handled, i´m a nutritionist for christ´s sake) and told me to get crackin. again, i appreciated the gentle whispering of an english speaking almost-doctor as i proceeded to poke, prod, burn, and maim his arm. i had to remain seated the whole time so i wouldn´t faint, which made for some awkward angles during the procedure, and will leave a scar about 1.5x larger than it probably needed to be. i should have at least made it in the shape of a heart or something...
i´m telling myself all the discomfort was because i performed minor surgery with no training on my almost husband as he watched (for chris´s sake) rather than on, i dunno, a dummy or something. and no, all of this general nausea i´m experiencing "in the field" isn´t causing me to reconsider my nursing career...until i´m well fed, well rested, in an air conditioned room, well trained and still wobbling as i stick someone with a needle, i refuse to believe i´m just a big baby. in the meantime, i´ll continue watching "trauma: life in the er" to increase my exposure. or just hang out in the san jose er...grossest.
d: we took advantage of our first morning off today to go to a local farmers' market and load up on some excellent fresh fruits/veggies. while the food here is generally very expensive (at least as pricey as in the states, as we've previously mentioned), the market had some great deals on some very high quality food. much of it is totally foreign to us by both name and appearance. we closed out the morning with a straw in a coconut and a 'pinto,' which is the local traditional breakfast of rice and beans with meat. excellent.
...just got an email back from barry, the wealthy divorced retiree who has decided that life in costa rica is far more relaxing than life in the states and has permanently set up shop down around here. he worked in banking for many years and was divorced very young without any kids. his most serious relationship since then ended about 5 years ago: he was dating a UPenn medical student but broke up with her when she graduated and started talking about marriage.
barry and i started talking randomly on my first night in costa rica-- he owns several properties around the country. he's invited ash and me to head out to his beach place at the end of the month to spend some time in Jaco. if it works out, we'll be staying at what he calls his 'penthouse' with him and his very young tican girlfriend who lived for a time in california but came back to relax, apparently with barry. everyone wins as far as i'm concerned. should be a good time.
this coming week involves a trip to a nearby (supposedly very beautiful and relaxing) town, five shifts on the ambulance, an eighth grade appropriate dinner and a movie date, a hike up a volcano, and a local professional futbol game... all before we start our 'real' vacation without commitment closer to the end of the month. very exciting.
we´ll be in touch...keep those comments rollin in...
Monday, April 13, 2009
he llegado/i have arrived.
mark and julio, two of our roommates
well, i solved the minor birthday conundrum by changing my flight to last thursday. once the idea crossed my mind (prompted by a legitimate blizzard and me nearly eating sh*t, ie wiping out, for the first time all winter in APRIL), i could not think of a gift that would be better than myself. and so, after orchestrating the surprise with the appropriate people and going a little crazy getting all our affairs in order that much sooner, i set out on my adventure thursday morning.
while i prefer traveling with david for the company, i find that things somehow tend to run more smoothly when i travel at the airport alone, without my engagement ring, and wearing a tanktop. not sure why. "oh, i cant check in for an international flight here? are you sure you cant make an exception?" "really? my bag is 15 pounds over the weight limit? are you sure?" overall, a smooth day of travel without any lines or extra fees. i realize some may find that offensive, or that im merely perpetuating a cycle of female sexualization in our culture, but i have decided that if men are going to stare anyway, i might as well use it to my advantage instead of just feeling violated. everybody wins.
i did not have the exciting neighbors that david did on his planes, but i find (and i know my sph peers do as well) that if anyone discovers i am a nutritionist, they suddenly become very interested in engaging me in some sort of discourse, ranging from defensive to curious to demanding. my wearing a tanktop appears to have no effect on the level of interest...americans just have a lot of issues regarding food. my first plane neighbor saw me reading a nutrition related book (ahhhh, yes, i'm finally on vacation) and without any provocation on my part, began battering herself for eating peanut mms in front of me. fortunately, i was able to reassure her that peanut m&ms are a perfectly acceptable breakfast, and in turn, she deemed me the "best nutritionist ever." everbody wins.
after 14 hours of travel, i landed in san jose, and clutching the confirmation of my airport pickup for that date and time, attempted to find my taxi (which was not there...a mystery that may never be solved). of course, when the 500 taxi drivers saw a gringa with a monster pack searching desperately for a ride they descended upon me. i initially ignored all of them, including the gentleman who eventually convinced me that he was not scamming me by offering to let me use his cell phone. my armor tends to go up when i travel in developing countries, but thus far, it seems the only thing i need to be vigilant about in costa rica is not getting too fired up on the amazing mangos. mango juice gives me a horrible rash on my face, but it's so difficult not to smother my face with a juicy one, of which there are plenty here.
i digress. this virtual stranger let me call my program director, then sat with me the rest of the night making calls back and forth until i was safely in a taxi without ever suggesting i owe him anything in return. i was wearing a sweater at this point, by the way (i find there is really no need to tone up the assets in latin american countries). i had heard ticos (costa ricans) were very hospitable, but my expectations were immediately exceeded the moment i got here.
i was (albeit one hour late) greeted by the most gregarious pre teen i might ever meet, a 12 year old named andres who´s father drives a cab and hosts volunteers for my program. we spent the thirty minute ride from san jose to san pedro discussing festivities for la semana santa, or holy week, which just ended yesterday with the resurrection of christ. initially i thought it would be awesome to be here for easter weekend since it´s a hugely important holiday to this very catholic country, but in reality, everything shuts down, the busses have abnormal hours, and people seem to just hang out with their families.
andres was much anticipating easter sunday, when he would get to chill with his 70 (that is a quote) first cousins and dine on various seafood heavy delicacies (of course, because meat is forbidden). andres pointed out only one thing on the drive, the street in san pedro where all the college students apprently go to get sloshed. always hyper aware of what foreigners think of americans, i wondered what this 12 year old must imagine americans are interested in when they visit his home town... of course, it's possible that some folks who are underage in the states might desire to take advantage of the 18 year old drinking age here in costa rica, and considering the flight attendant on my connection asked if i was 16 yet (i was seated in an exit row), i hope his assumption was based largely on my presumed age and not the precedent that volunteers before me have set.
after a very successful birthday surprise in which our entire commune participated (our roommates bought david a cake and set us up in a double room),
the last few days have been filled with numerous semi failed attempts at completing some adventures, partially because of the spotty bus schedules during holy week, and partially because we've had to come face to face with some of my unfortunate higher maintenance travel issues (namely, motion and altitude sickness). david's been very empathetic--let's hope that lasts.
on both friday and saturday we took a bus to a nearby town cartago (david mentioned it previously) with the intention of it being merely a pit stop en route to a more desirable destination. friday we were foiled by the bus schedule, and saturday, in an attempt to scale the irazu volcano, we visited cartago again, only to find the closest we could get to the volcano was 17 km. feeling very motivated, we tagged along with our new friend juan carlos (somebody we asked for directions--seriously, ticos are hella nice) and set off on our adventure. while we imagined we'd return from the volcano agotados (worn out), we didn't anticipate that i'd get winded simply by squatting to pee on meter 10 of a 34 KILOmeter walk. and so, we hung our heads in defeat shortly thereafter, seeking solace in an awesome mountainside 80s bar to drown our sorrows in cerveza.
of course, when in a totally foreign country, it's not difficult to find redemption in defeat. because cartago is home to the big basilica, we witnessed many fascinating easter celebratory performances. and, naturalist that he is, david also spent some time documenting pidgeon interactions in a plaza there, which he now calls "pigeon bar." he enjoyed watching the male pidgeons puff up and approach (harass) the females, who ignored the males and quickly scurried off with a female friend, presumably to talk about it in the bathroom. and while we didn't get far on our volcanic hike, the scenery was absolutely spectacular...next time we will remember to bring not just the card reader and usb drive, but also the cameras (digust) so we can try and load some pictures...
great little things i've observed about costa rica thus far include, first and foremost, the unparalleled kindness of the people. every person we talk to, ask for directions, what have you, goes out of their way to be ultra nice and accommodating. i have also appreciated the potable water (i sing in the shower), eating to my heart's content without any (knock on wood) negative ramifications, and the abundant and diverse selection of *cheap* fruit (a bag of six perfectly ripe mangos for $1). unfortunately, cheapness of food stops there.
it's also been pretty neat speaking another language with david, rusty as my spanish is. we're doing about half and half right now, which is not so bad considering how easy it is just to speak english as a default. luckily, my formal spanish lessons will start in an hour actually, and i also indulged in a long-desired guilty pleasure before i left--buying "twilight" in spanish, "el crepusculo," so i can pass off my toting it around as a language enhancing activity rather than just an advertisement that my maturity level is on par with that of an 11 year old girl (hey, there's a reason david and i fit so well...).
as this has grown quite lengthy enough, we'll leave tales of our food experimentation and more for next time...hasta luego!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
costa rica: ocean water so warm, you don't even feel your own pee.
**now with pictures**
several days ago i told what i thought was my first spanish joke of the trip and got nuthin but crickets in return. not just total silence, but actual looks of complete puzzlement on everyone's faces. i suppose that while i do have a fair command of the language, i still need to work on my delivery.
for better or worse, it turns out that the dude with whom i'm supposed to work at the children's hospital has gone MIA, supposedly until tomorrow. so i've taken the last week to relax and get to know a few places in town, as well as out. last wednesday i took a trip to jaco, located on the central pacific side of the country and widely known as the most touristy beach town around. while i generally tend to appreciate less touristy areas, this place is touristy to the ticans themselves (although more and more to the gringos who over the past four years have gobbled up land and have been constructing more and more condos in the area), who were on spring break last week. the chance to hang with local tourists, plus the nearly three hour bus ride at a cost of $3 was enough to lure me in for a day in the sun.
by chance i was seated next to gabriel, a 5th (out of 6) year med student on the way there. turns out that here, the 6th year of med school is the equivalent of our intern year, after which everyone has the option of continuing to practice as a full-fledged general practitioner, or continue on to specialize in OBGYN, surgery, etc. according to gabriel, general practitioners bring home $1500/month, which strikes me as grossly underpaid considering the cost of living, which (busses notwithstanding) is not cheap. [gas approaches $4/gallon, a small can of tuna = $2, the cheapest lunches = $4, peanut butter = $6 for a smallish jar, etc.] the countryside en route was generally gorgeous and extremely middle class: virtually every abode i laid eyes on had a suzuki or toyota parked in the driveway.
i mentioned to gabriel that i wasn't seeing any of the poorness that i had expected-- he said that it's not too bad in this country despite a few scattered regions where it can be pretty sad. i also caught my first glimpse of exotic tican wildlife as we drove over a bridge near our destination-- i looked down to find what must've been a 12-foot crocodile sunning itself right on the shore of el rio taracula. quite a sight. life would suddenly suck if it were to bite you, i'm sure.
i was greeted in jaco by some dude who promptly stole my sunglasses. this guy was so good, i almost wanna say he deserved them. he had an approx four second window to swoop in silently like an owl, grab them off of the counter in front of me while i reached down into my bag to get some sunscreen, and disappear into the hot jaco air. he had definitely been working on his timing and execution. fortunately for me, i got them at that sweet sunglass shop in pacific beach on the corner of garnet and cass; replacing them won't be much of a chore or expense. i took off my shirt to reveal skin as white as the michigan winter (whitest.). i also need to work on my sunscreen application (splotchier sunburns the next day- picture a giraffe).
you'll hear that the ocean water here is warm, and man, it's the truth. i'd never before had zero hesitation upon immersing my armpits OR my legpit. it was wonderful, although i couldn't enjoy it as much as i wanted because i felt like i always needed to keep one eye on my stuff that was sitting solo on the shore, potentially enticing the owls.
i took a break from the sandy shore to hit up a local beachside bar that was wonderfully quaint and seemed to be a hit with the locals. while i am as big a football fan back in the states as almost anyone, it's really nice to be back in a country where futbol is truly appreciated. i've taken an interest in the european cup; watched a game between arsenal and villareal as i sat there absorbing the breeze that had the whole bar captivated. the dude next to me just about orgasmed when some arsenal player did a spectacular chest-strap-straight-to-a-bicycle for a goal that tied the game late in the 2nd half. "Pele reencarnado," he screamed. at one point, a f*kkin IGUANA came strolling into the place the kept three local toddlers and myself entirely occupied for a full 20 minutes. good times.
i was gonna take a hike up a nearby mountain that is generally hyped by the locals a great for wildlife viewing (particularly anteaters and sloths), but i was told at the last minute that the particular grove of mangos in that area won't be ripe for another month, at which point the monkeys should be showing up in hoards. so i'll wait to hit that up with ashley towards the end of our trip. lookin forward to it.
i'm thrilled to report that ashley surprised me by showing up the night of my birthday (thursday), rather than two days later as was originally planned. the timing couldn't've been more perfect, in small part because of how seriously the ticans take their jesus. the whole country closes down on the thursday and friday before easter (the law even prohibits sale of alcohol on those days), so there would otherwise have been little to keep me occupied. in fact, ashley walked in as i watched, completely out of desperation, The Happening, with mark wahlberg. worst movie ever. i actually had to go back the next night to finish it (sorry ash, for putting you through that) to see if the movie could actually finish as horribly as it started. it actually worsened as it went on. sweet mercy.
ash and i have very happily spent the last two days in a nearby town called cartago, which was actually the tican capital for about 260 years until the later 1800s. at the center of town is a beautiful basilica that was the big deal of the easter weekend; people apparently treat it as a catholic-type hajj and travel there from all over central america to mourn chris's death and celebrate his resurrection. good friday provided a huge ceremony/mass out in front, complete with hundreds of locals dressed in costume to reenact the crucifiction.
christ.
basilica de cartago
crucifiction.
yesterday was supposed to be our day to visit the local volcano (irazu), but very long story short, we missed the last bus that would've taken us to the peak and decided 1.5 miles in that a 4-hr hike to the summit at over 11,000 feet was a lapse in good judgment. deciding discretion was the better part of valor, we turned around, bought some delicious fruit (freshest.), and called it a day.
brief observations: pork and rice tamale with one hard boiled egg might be the perfect snack...my new favorite channel is National Geographic en espanol. this morning i learned a little about jaguars, poison dart frogs and eyelash vipers...i hate the dodgers... streets officially have names, but nobody knows what they are and there are no signs anywhere. directions are listed relative to a landmark, for example, as: 50 meters south and 100 meters north of the Burger King. often times, the landmark no longer exists, which can be a bit of a headache.
excited to get to work tomorrow, the first "normal" san jose day since i got here since this past week was spring break and the city was more deserted than usual. should be sweet.
alright then,
several days ago i told what i thought was my first spanish joke of the trip and got nuthin but crickets in return. not just total silence, but actual looks of complete puzzlement on everyone's faces. i suppose that while i do have a fair command of the language, i still need to work on my delivery.
for better or worse, it turns out that the dude with whom i'm supposed to work at the children's hospital has gone MIA, supposedly until tomorrow. so i've taken the last week to relax and get to know a few places in town, as well as out. last wednesday i took a trip to jaco, located on the central pacific side of the country and widely known as the most touristy beach town around. while i generally tend to appreciate less touristy areas, this place is touristy to the ticans themselves (although more and more to the gringos who over the past four years have gobbled up land and have been constructing more and more condos in the area), who were on spring break last week. the chance to hang with local tourists, plus the nearly three hour bus ride at a cost of $3 was enough to lure me in for a day in the sun.
by chance i was seated next to gabriel, a 5th (out of 6) year med student on the way there. turns out that here, the 6th year of med school is the equivalent of our intern year, after which everyone has the option of continuing to practice as a full-fledged general practitioner, or continue on to specialize in OBGYN, surgery, etc. according to gabriel, general practitioners bring home $1500/month, which strikes me as grossly underpaid considering the cost of living, which (busses notwithstanding) is not cheap. [gas approaches $4/gallon, a small can of tuna = $2, the cheapest lunches = $4, peanut butter = $6 for a smallish jar, etc.] the countryside en route was generally gorgeous and extremely middle class: virtually every abode i laid eyes on had a suzuki or toyota parked in the driveway.
i mentioned to gabriel that i wasn't seeing any of the poorness that i had expected-- he said that it's not too bad in this country despite a few scattered regions where it can be pretty sad. i also caught my first glimpse of exotic tican wildlife as we drove over a bridge near our destination-- i looked down to find what must've been a 12-foot crocodile sunning itself right on the shore of el rio taracula. quite a sight. life would suddenly suck if it were to bite you, i'm sure.
i was greeted in jaco by some dude who promptly stole my sunglasses. this guy was so good, i almost wanna say he deserved them. he had an approx four second window to swoop in silently like an owl, grab them off of the counter in front of me while i reached down into my bag to get some sunscreen, and disappear into the hot jaco air. he had definitely been working on his timing and execution. fortunately for me, i got them at that sweet sunglass shop in pacific beach on the corner of garnet and cass; replacing them won't be much of a chore or expense. i took off my shirt to reveal skin as white as the michigan winter (whitest.). i also need to work on my sunscreen application (splotchier sunburns the next day- picture a giraffe).
you'll hear that the ocean water here is warm, and man, it's the truth. i'd never before had zero hesitation upon immersing my armpits OR my legpit. it was wonderful, although i couldn't enjoy it as much as i wanted because i felt like i always needed to keep one eye on my stuff that was sitting solo on the shore, potentially enticing the owls.
i took a break from the sandy shore to hit up a local beachside bar that was wonderfully quaint and seemed to be a hit with the locals. while i am as big a football fan back in the states as almost anyone, it's really nice to be back in a country where futbol is truly appreciated. i've taken an interest in the european cup; watched a game between arsenal and villareal as i sat there absorbing the breeze that had the whole bar captivated. the dude next to me just about orgasmed when some arsenal player did a spectacular chest-strap-straight-to-a-bicycle for a goal that tied the game late in the 2nd half. "Pele reencarnado," he screamed. at one point, a f*kkin IGUANA came strolling into the place the kept three local toddlers and myself entirely occupied for a full 20 minutes. good times.
i was gonna take a hike up a nearby mountain that is generally hyped by the locals a great for wildlife viewing (particularly anteaters and sloths), but i was told at the last minute that the particular grove of mangos in that area won't be ripe for another month, at which point the monkeys should be showing up in hoards. so i'll wait to hit that up with ashley towards the end of our trip. lookin forward to it.
i'm thrilled to report that ashley surprised me by showing up the night of my birthday (thursday), rather than two days later as was originally planned. the timing couldn't've been more perfect, in small part because of how seriously the ticans take their jesus. the whole country closes down on the thursday and friday before easter (the law even prohibits sale of alcohol on those days), so there would otherwise have been little to keep me occupied. in fact, ashley walked in as i watched, completely out of desperation, The Happening, with mark wahlberg. worst movie ever. i actually had to go back the next night to finish it (sorry ash, for putting you through that) to see if the movie could actually finish as horribly as it started. it actually worsened as it went on. sweet mercy.
ash and i have very happily spent the last two days in a nearby town called cartago, which was actually the tican capital for about 260 years until the later 1800s. at the center of town is a beautiful basilica that was the big deal of the easter weekend; people apparently treat it as a catholic-type hajj and travel there from all over central america to mourn chris's death and celebrate his resurrection. good friday provided a huge ceremony/mass out in front, complete with hundreds of locals dressed in costume to reenact the crucifiction.
christ.
basilica de cartago
crucifiction.
yesterday was supposed to be our day to visit the local volcano (irazu), but very long story short, we missed the last bus that would've taken us to the peak and decided 1.5 miles in that a 4-hr hike to the summit at over 11,000 feet was a lapse in good judgment. deciding discretion was the better part of valor, we turned around, bought some delicious fruit (freshest.), and called it a day.
brief observations: pork and rice tamale with one hard boiled egg might be the perfect snack...my new favorite channel is National Geographic en espanol. this morning i learned a little about jaguars, poison dart frogs and eyelash vipers...i hate the dodgers... streets officially have names, but nobody knows what they are and there are no signs anywhere. directions are listed relative to a landmark, for example, as: 50 meters south and 100 meters north of the Burger King. often times, the landmark no longer exists, which can be a bit of a headache.
excited to get to work tomorrow, the first "normal" san jose day since i got here since this past week was spring break and the city was more deserted than usual. should be sweet.
alright then,
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
older.
happy birthday, david! while it's not quite april 9th in costa rica or california (or apparently, on this blog...), we are deep enough into your birthday here in michigan that i feel comfortable announcing you're a decade older than me (at first glance, for the next 3.5 months). hard to believe that the tiny alien on the left grew into the dashing young man on the right, but indeed it's the case.
for those of you who don't know, david surprised me for my last birthday by taking me skydiving (bold surprise, i know...), so i've got a tough act to follow. fortunately, in just a few short days i'll be joining him in a magical land full of fun/terrifying activities, so i'm sure i'll figure something out that i can present as a birthday gift while discreetly checking another adrenaline high off my own list.
here i am prepping for my dive, and that limp body attached to a parachute is david demonstrating his mad skills:
as a quick aside--i highly recommend this activity, even if it isn't currently on your list of things to do before you die. pencil it in. then trace over that pencil with a sharpie. all the work is done for you--you have only one task: get pushed out of an airplane and feel more exhilarated than you ever have or ever will (until you dive again). the whole experience is amazing, though one must be prepared for raindrops in the stratosphere (or whatever atmospheric layer one is in at 10,000 feet). as my instructor astutely put it as i massaged the welts all over my face and neck when we landed (amid maniacal giggling), the feeling resembles a nail gun to the face. it of course stopped raining the second david jumped out of the airplane.
i've been pestering david for weeks to alert people to the blog, but now that he's cast a rather wide net, i realize i'll have to clean up (and shorten up) the posts a bit...i vow to try my best to know my audience and write accordingly. i understand that not everyone is as tickled to learn, for example, that david brushes my teeth for me as his mom, jeannette (better audience.) is, who has pledged to check this blog every hour. we don't expect nearly that commitment from other readers (including my own mother, who made her disdain over the toothbrushing issue clear this evening).
so, before i get carried away again, let me part ways by asking everyone to join me in using yet another electronic medium to wish a very, very happy birthday to david! have a wonderful day full of sol and cerveza. three more days and i'll be joining you...
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