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...

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.

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:

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...

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!

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,

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...

if you are a big tree, we are a small axe.

raise your hand if you knew that our very own confederate states tried their damndest to annex all of central america? according to the story i read, some georgian named william walker led the charge through the area, backed by prez buchanan shortly before our civil war, and at one point declared himself president of more than one country. turns out costa rica's national hero is another dude named juan santamaria who volunteered to storm up a hill and throw a torch into the wooden shack where the last gringos had sought refuge. he succeeded in burning the shack but was killed in the process. most interestingly to me, that story wasn't made public to the ticos (costa rican natives) until years later when costa rica was having some internal strife and general morale issues. some might say that the whole story isn't entirely true and that a mere rallying point was needed-- but that might be no different than the stories regarding most famous saviors with whom we've become acquainted over time... slightly more recently, a civil war broke out here in 1948 between one side that was viewed by the US as communist, and the opposition. because of the US post-WWII pinko paranoia, we amassed troops at the panamanian border, i dunno, just in case. the civil war victors were the non-communists, who saw no need for an army since they felt comfortable that any threat to themselves would be viewed unfavorably by the US. they therefore put funds that would've been used towards guns n stuff towards their own infrastructure and social systems. since then, costa rica has operated sans military and is known as the 'switzerland of the west.' who knew.

i arrived a couple of nights ago without a hitch. in atlanta, i was asked to switch seats on the flight so that some family could sit together. i ended up being placed between a woman who had committed her life to yoga (and all else that is pure) on my right, and another woman with advanced huntington's chorea (look it up-- it's a devastating disease that truly sucks for those who have it as well as for those who love them, but it really makes life difficult for anyone sitting next to them in a cramped space) on my left. i spent the vast majority of the trip listening to the woman on my right discuss yoga, earth/water/fire, and herbs. my favorite part was when she raved about her close friend who is a monovegan (eats only one vegan food per day--so, like, only bananas on thursday) and who lives alone, naked, in the costa rican jungle. she has been weaning herself off of food and plans to eventually survive solely on her own breath. i know. i told her that to me, the plan sounded kinda dangerous, and got ¨well, you're western trained-- you wouldn't understand¨ in return. the whole conversation was about 1/4 interesting and 3/4 entertaining. i like to think that we both learned a little from each other, all the while i was practicing my self-defense moves against the very kind woman to my left.

we arrived into san jose and i immediately stripped down basically to my undies. i left a quite chilly michigan (as i write, 4 inches of snow are on the ground in ann arbor--that's a haha) dressed in what i thought was appropriate eveningwear for a city at 3800 ft, but it was wonderfully much warmer than i'd anticipated. my house-dad robert (older. slower.) picked me up at the airport and took me to where we'll be spending the rest of the month. it's a residence where several rooms surround a small courtyard. my current room is definitely all i need, although he said he'd move ashley and me in to a larger suite when she gets here, which'll be sweet. currently, my housemates include a venezuelan dude; a canadian chick who comes often to visit her tican boyfriend; a 40-something hollywood surfer who says he's here to get dental work done (TONS of medical tourists come to costa rica), but the more i talk with him, the more i think he's just here to chill; and a cuban-turned-new-jersian mother/son pair. everyone seems super cool at our little united nations. we´re located a few short blocks from the universidad de costa rica, so the surroundings are filled with young students, which of course i find ideal.

over the last two days, i've been doing a lotta walking around the city. it's very small and easy to hit the touristy high points within a day. of course, getting a good sense of the city itself takes much longer and requires time spent in places farther from the guidebook hotspots. saturday night was awesome: i left the main drag and found a bar that was showing the final four. shortly after i walked in, a few locals hit up the jukebox with about 90 straight minutes of bob marley. imagine my smile when i heard them belting out the lyrics to 'small axe', which is certainly not one of bob's most famous songs, but happens to be among my favorites. we were all a couple of beers in at that point; of course i joined in.

throughout my previous travels, i've deduced my own third-world city trifecta that roughly dictates the level of a nation's poorness: high number of beggars, lotsa stray dogs, and a general lack of toilet paper in the public restrooms. this place doesn't seem to fit any of those criteria. while it doesn't offer much outside of the experience of a totally new country/culture, it seems to be a relatively safe, pleasant, simple city. most of the locals either hang out at the central market, or feed the birds in the central Plaza de la Cultura, which i call Plaza del Pigeon Shit. like virtually all of latin america, the jewels of the country lie far from the populated areas. i can't f*kkin wait to get out there. active volcanoes, super legit jungles with tremendously diverse wildlife, and beach communities await. hurry up ash, let's go. i miss you.

dot dot dots: fortunately for me, the coffee is delicious--not surprising, since starbucks gets 95% of theirs from here...clearly, neocolonialism has not spared the area as a KFC, taco bell, pizza hut, subway, wendy's, etc etc are everywhere. naturally, the nationwide BMI has increased proportionally to the number of these establishments. i'm far more inclined to hit up the local 'sodas' to eat some tasty tican grub consisting always of rice, black beans and plantains, plus whatever meat you wanna add (all for about $4, which is far more than i was hoping). mornings are ripe with papayas, pineapples, mangos, and bananas that were probably picked yesterday at the earliest. i don't even like papaya, and i like the papaya. ashley makes the very astute point that food is always good when it tastes like it's supposed to taste, not how costa rican papaya tastes after it's been picked unripe, sprayed, packaged, and shipped to ann arbor, michigan, for example... i've had no qualms about housing every meal as if i'd cooked it in my own michigan kitchen, partly because i've heard that those from the US don't tend to get foodborne illness here, and partly because i purchased a course of antibiotics ($12) and have tucked it away just in case... all you ladies would fit in just fine if you wear tight jeans and show off your bewbs...

next time i'll tell you about my two new friends: barry (wealthy 64yo retiree from philly who's relocated here and kicks it with his 22yo girlfriend), and miguel (humble family man and possible alcoholic who lives just outta town). they might end up contributing nicely to this trip--we shall see.

alright then,

adios, david!

as i type, david should (hopefully) be en route to atlanta, where, after a seven hour layover (yikes), he'll officially be costa rica bound. he'll be flying into the country's capital, san jose, where our "house dad" is picking him up and taking him to our new digs in a small town just outside san jose called san pedro.

apparently, san pedro is a little quieter, safer, and is home to many universities, so is appealing to young folks like ourselves who like cheap food, cafes, and fun bars. as you can see, the country is pretty small (maybe the size of west virginia) and apparently has unparalleled public transport, so we plan to cheaply cover as much ground as we can in the few weeks we're there.

we still can't believe that the trip is already upon us...perhaps best illustrated by the fact that, despite getting the day off from work, david began packing for the six week jaunt last night at eleven pm...


adios, david! map courtesy: www.lonelyplanet.com/costarica

what has started to hit both of us, however, is a hefty dose of nostalgia about leaving ann arbor. though i think the true cut point is ten years, after six years, i feel like an ann arbor lifer and that this is truly my home. i remember a conversation i had with my econ professor several years ago, who was born in portugal but went to college in brazil. he said, "yes, i'm *from* portugal, but i became a person in rio." that's exactly how i feel about ann arbor, and as exciting as it is to take the next step, it's of course pretty bittersweet to leave such a special town full of so many important memories.

so, rather than packing and planning for this rather significant journey, david and i have been soaking in ann arbor (i feel so native to ann arbor, it was odd when we did the math yesterday and realized i've only been here one year longer than him) when we can...hanging out in our favorite cafes, seeing shows at the michigan theater, walking through the diag, and of course, hitting up the world famous zingerman's deli.


for david's last day in ann arbor for awhile, we were lucky to get near perfect weather. while yesterday would have been a great time to start packing, if you're from the midwest you understand the necessity of appreciating sunshine and sixty degrees regardless of what day, week, or month it is, and regardless of what else you have going on. u of m students understand this unspoken rule, and campus was buzzing with ultimate frisbee, flip flops, and even a mini-carnival in the diag. we celebrated by purchasing our first iced coffee/tea of the season (a little overzealous...we were chilly at the bottom of those glasses) and doing some people watching.

we did take care of some important errands that could incorporate time outside, like getting my glasses fixed after a year and a half of non-use (couldn't have been better timing considering our hour-late start to the airport this morning in the rain...vision is awesome when one is driving), and pondering the statue that sits exactly halfway between the medical school and my office, that we familiarly refer to as "pedophilia:"

upon our close inspection yesterday, we learned it's actually called "regeneration of time." we're trying to figure out who to contact about officially renaming it, because honestly, between the two, i think we're a little more accurate...

still left with an hour to kill, david suggested we visit borders (the flagship store, right downtown) and read travel books (not for costa rica, but for our next big trip that will include trekking in nepal--so cool). seriously...who knew there would be such a perfect other half who finds as much pleasure as i do in activities like this? our other favorite dates include reading medical texts at cafes and visiting the humane society. it's all about the simple pleasures...



while salivating over everest trekking guides, i began to simultaneously salivate over a gorgeous illustrated cookbook for the common grill, a wonderful restaurant in a small town called chelsea, about 15 miles west of ann arbor. if you've seen my bookshelves, you know it's no exaggeration that i read cookbooks like novels, and after polishing this one off, i decided we needed to break from our "ode to ann arbor" and have a farewell/early birthday dinner due west.

david was thrilled to discover they serve his favorite dish, paella, which is now becoming somewhat of a birthday tradition. last year a bunch of nutrition kids celebrated his birthday with a huge pot of the same:



and it's a darn labor intensive dish to create! above you'll see our buddy katie helping me de-beard mussels (yes, that's actually what it's called)for the birthday pot. unfortunately, shortly after this photo was taken, a mussel allegedly "bit" her, and she called it a night.

it's possible the pros at common grill pulled off a more aesthetically pleasing dish, but with the news that we've received our paella pan as a wedding gift (yippee!!), next year i'm ready to give 'em a run for their money.


but for now, it's just starting to sink in that david and i have to take a week off from our never ending joint adventures. what a bummer! and it doesn't help that it's so gloomy outside... it's so lonely in our apartment without him (thank god for the cats, who miss their dad but are excited to have "their" side of the bed back). i do have some affairs to get in order before i head to the tropics myself (in barely more than a week!) that should help take my mind off of it, like wrapping up the loose ends at work, getting wedding stuff squared away, and making sure the cats and apartment are in top condition for their five weeks solo, and of course, continuing to enjoy ann arbor.

but, if you spend any time away from your joint-at-the-hip partner in crime, you know how weird it feels to sleep alone in the bed, or to cook just for yourself (hence my traditional cereal binges when left to my own devices), or to have to brush your own teeth. it's just not natural! needless to say, i'm counting down the minutes not just to costa rica, but to my reunion with my favorite human as well.

yes, he really brushes my teeth for me (some people have witnessed this in person--it's not for show), and yes, we have matching toddler bandaids on our thumbs. what am i going to do without this guy?! i think i'll start with a nap...