We’re home!!!!! Well, without Bill, but he’ll be home soon. Our voyage was without incident but equally as long and tedious as the trip out there. This time there was not an overabundance of strange people to make fun of so my enjoyment of international travel was slightly diminished. My lovely daughter Sydney and her equally engaging young man, Ryder, were there to greet us and drive us home. We were all exhausted and eagerly awaiting the familiarity of our soft, warm beds which would be free of crawling, biting insects. The dogs were excited to see us and the cats graciously deigned to acknowledge that we were permitted to continue living in their house. The shock of stepping out of the car and into 50 degree weather was a chilling (get it???? chilling???) reminder of our northern latitude. Nevertheless, the air was dry and the sheets did not stick to our legs with the damp humidity. It was heaven.
Five days before we left we decamped from La Selva and traveled many miles over impossibly rocky, rutted dirt roads to our next destination, Laguna del Lagarto. This road requires the wearing of an armor-plated, cantilevered brassiere, or at the very least enough room in the vehicle to be able to sit with your knees pressed to your chest. We arrived without difficulty and were met by Brian who seemed very happy to see us; we were certainly happy to see him (with the possible exception of my breasts which were sulking behind my waistband)!
This was a short visit but we had a good time with the students and even managed to squeeze in a boat trip down the river. The river was quite high and full of debris that required the captain to maneuver around these obstacles so he wouldn’t stove in the bottom of the boat and turn us into crocodile food. We saw several impressive specimens of the crocodiles, all of which scurried into the water long before we got very close with the exception of one 8 foot long critter that refused to move until the boat bumped right in to him! Many pictures were taken, all the boys were gabbling with excitement (except Liam who was perched on top of my head). On the way up the river we stopped on one of the shores while our guide jumped out, threw sticks at some big, ripe bread-fruit and knocked them into the river where we fished them out and brought them home for dinner.
One of the more irritating differences between La Selva and Laguna was not what you might imagine. We could not drink the water at Laguna, the wildlife was more immediate and the food was sometimes more challenging (but usually really good) but those were not the most difficult things to endure. It was the insects. At La Salva the insects are slightly more well-behaved as they seem to respect the fact that you’re wearing a sheen of Deet over every exposed surface of your body. They take this fact in, give it a test landing and then politely wing their way off to find the peccaries. Laguna was an entirely different matter. The evil, scheming insects that populate this region view Deet as a marinade or perhaps a special seasoning to go along with the gallons of blood they eagerly suck off or the numerous chunks of flesh they lumber away with. They are completely impervious to this method of repelling insects and have, in fact, been known to bite right through your clothing if you stand still long enough. Within 24 hours we resembled a colony of lepers.
I fear I have been compelled to relate one of my more unsuccessful attempts to communicate with the locals while in La Selva (Joy and Tami, I will find a way to get you back). While at this station you have to take a taxi into town in order to purchase personal items like beer, snacks, shampoo, etc. etc. One of the older drivers took our family under his wing and looked after us very well. His name was Conejo (Rabbit). On one of our last days dad and I had to go into town, so off I went down to the reception building where I asked them to call Conejo for us. At least that was what I had planned to do. What actually came out of my mouth was not Conejo but Cahone. In essence I had just asked the two men behind the counter to call a testicle for me. I’m not sure who was the most embarrassed, them or me. My beloved father compounded my humiliation by relating my gaffe to Conejo himself without me knowing that he had done so. Conejo’s parting words to me were “remember, my name is Conejo” before he smiled knowingly and took off in a cloud of dust in his little red taxi. I punched my dad right in the arm.
So, here we are, back at home enjoying our creature comforts and each other. The house was spotless, the fridge was full and my girlfriends and Sydney were with me for champagne breakfast this morning in my own sunny kitchen. How can you go through life without friends and family as important as this in your life? I’m very fortunate. This is probably the end of the Costa Rica blog, but I may add other things here and there.
Is there any interest?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Costa Rican Caribbean Coast
Thank-you to all who have expressed sympathy at my publicly displayed neuroses (and for keeping your sniggers and smirks mercifully quiet). At this point I have recovered sufficiently from the trauma of overindulging in “Jungle Appreciation 101” to add another chapter to this diary.
As I write the sound of the Caribbean surf is crashing just yards away from the foot of the stairs to our room and the Howler monkeys are roaring in the trees just a couple of yards from the beach . The sun is hot, the sand is white and the beer is cold. You must understand that at this point in our journey I feel this is a richly deserved break for the kids and me. Bill is happy to sweat the days away in the insect infested lowland tropical forest (and the air conditioned labs) but for those of us who are less invested with a burning desire to see what is going on in the dirt of this forest, a trip to the shore was in order. So, we are spending 5 days in a teeny little coastal town called Cahuita which is about 45 minutes south of Limon (large coastal shipping port, currently the biggest import/industry is the production and transport of malaria). Grampa elected to stay at La Selva because of his delicate red-headed skin and his need to work on a project he found to do there, so we are having to limp along without him.
Olivier and his family (yes, they are real, I’ve seen them now) came for a couple of days and we all had fun just walking along the beach, swimming in the surf, snorkeling from the shore, talking to tame parrots and collecting tiny shells for a project Liam hopes to accomplish once we get home. This little adventure gave the boys the opportunity to get familiar with the snorkeling equipment before we took them out on the reef to dive from the boat. As it turned out Liam wanted nothing to do with this exercise and chose to remain at the edge of the beach and hurl himself into the oncoming waves with carefree abandon.
This morning Bill made pancakes after much begging and whining from the lads (we had to buy 2 eggs from the store, luckily this kind of thing is quite normal here and the shopkeeper didn’t think we were destitute or a couple of fries short of a happy meal) and then we set off to meet up with the snorkeling boat. Once the boat stopped at the reef, Bobby put on his gear and followed me into the water without any hesitation. Liam stayed aboard and helped the pilot navigate the shoals. It was a really great experience to watch Bobby enjoy the wonder under the waves and to only have to pound seawater out of his lungs once. The boat took us to a little beach and the crew (young, healthy fellows with fearsome dreads and many Jamaican beads strewn about their person) then cut open several pineapples and watermelons for us to snack on. During this small intermission Liam decided to get brave in the shallows and try on the snorkeling gear. Well!! Big surprise, he loved it. He got to practice for all of 15 minutes before we had to get back in the boat and enjoy a spleen jarring ride back to shore. Both boys were mighty put out that we couldn’t do that all day, every day. As it turns out, people are not permitted to snorkel in the park (Cahuita National Park) without a guide so as to protect the reef; so we can’t just swim from the beach where we are staying (we had to travel for about 45 minutes when we went with Olivier). To appease the budding marine biologists Bill is out on the beach again with them (in the pouring rain) and they are indulging in the now second favorite activity of allowing the surf to populate all of their crevasses with sand as they throw themselves into the waves (the Howlers and Capuchins watch the stupid human tricks for hours).
Alas, tomorrow we leave this tropical idyll and head back to La Selva where deadlines await and many legged creatures lurk around every corner and under every surface. Where toads live in the dining room, geckoes poo on your bed, peccaries live under the house, snakes come out at night to bask on the walkways and every conceivable color known to man is displayed on the many birds that perch in the canopy and carry on a running commentary of our daily lives. Shortly thereafter we go to Laguna del Lagarto to meet one of the threads that makes up the very fabric of our lives, Briny Hauge. He has rather a daunting task ahead of him as he must not only teach the students he is bringing down with him but must also take the boys and I out hunting for snakes and caiman. That’s OK, he has been known to be very powerful on occasion.
More soon,
Michelle
As I write the sound of the Caribbean surf is crashing just yards away from the foot of the stairs to our room and the Howler monkeys are roaring in the trees just a couple of yards from the beach . The sun is hot, the sand is white and the beer is cold. You must understand that at this point in our journey I feel this is a richly deserved break for the kids and me. Bill is happy to sweat the days away in the insect infested lowland tropical forest (and the air conditioned labs) but for those of us who are less invested with a burning desire to see what is going on in the dirt of this forest, a trip to the shore was in order. So, we are spending 5 days in a teeny little coastal town called Cahuita which is about 45 minutes south of Limon (large coastal shipping port, currently the biggest import/industry is the production and transport of malaria). Grampa elected to stay at La Selva because of his delicate red-headed skin and his need to work on a project he found to do there, so we are having to limp along without him.
Olivier and his family (yes, they are real, I’ve seen them now) came for a couple of days and we all had fun just walking along the beach, swimming in the surf, snorkeling from the shore, talking to tame parrots and collecting tiny shells for a project Liam hopes to accomplish once we get home. This little adventure gave the boys the opportunity to get familiar with the snorkeling equipment before we took them out on the reef to dive from the boat. As it turned out Liam wanted nothing to do with this exercise and chose to remain at the edge of the beach and hurl himself into the oncoming waves with carefree abandon.
This morning Bill made pancakes after much begging and whining from the lads (we had to buy 2 eggs from the store, luckily this kind of thing is quite normal here and the shopkeeper didn’t think we were destitute or a couple of fries short of a happy meal) and then we set off to meet up with the snorkeling boat. Once the boat stopped at the reef, Bobby put on his gear and followed me into the water without any hesitation. Liam stayed aboard and helped the pilot navigate the shoals. It was a really great experience to watch Bobby enjoy the wonder under the waves and to only have to pound seawater out of his lungs once. The boat took us to a little beach and the crew (young, healthy fellows with fearsome dreads and many Jamaican beads strewn about their person) then cut open several pineapples and watermelons for us to snack on. During this small intermission Liam decided to get brave in the shallows and try on the snorkeling gear. Well!! Big surprise, he loved it. He got to practice for all of 15 minutes before we had to get back in the boat and enjoy a spleen jarring ride back to shore. Both boys were mighty put out that we couldn’t do that all day, every day. As it turns out, people are not permitted to snorkel in the park (Cahuita National Park) without a guide so as to protect the reef; so we can’t just swim from the beach where we are staying (we had to travel for about 45 minutes when we went with Olivier). To appease the budding marine biologists Bill is out on the beach again with them (in the pouring rain) and they are indulging in the now second favorite activity of allowing the surf to populate all of their crevasses with sand as they throw themselves into the waves (the Howlers and Capuchins watch the stupid human tricks for hours).
Alas, tomorrow we leave this tropical idyll and head back to La Selva where deadlines await and many legged creatures lurk around every corner and under every surface. Where toads live in the dining room, geckoes poo on your bed, peccaries live under the house, snakes come out at night to bask on the walkways and every conceivable color known to man is displayed on the many birds that perch in the canopy and carry on a running commentary of our daily lives. Shortly thereafter we go to Laguna del Lagarto to meet one of the threads that makes up the very fabric of our lives, Briny Hauge. He has rather a daunting task ahead of him as he must not only teach the students he is bringing down with him but must also take the boys and I out hunting for snakes and caiman. That’s OK, he has been known to be very powerful on occasion.
More soon,
Michelle
Friday, August 1, 2008
Monkeys and spiders and snakes, OH MY!
We have now seen all 3 species of monkeys (Howlers, Spiders and Capuchins) enough times that we have become nearly as blasé about them as the locals; Oh look, another damn monkey! It takes an endearing newborn monkeylette (about the size of a large rat) clinging desperately to its mothers belly fur to make us pause and degenerate into a slobbering, doe-eyed group of anthropomorphizing tourists. Shortly afterwards however, it is inevitable that we will also be treated to the sight of Mr. Alpha-males monkey ass which is made particularly picturesque by the impressive pair of swinging bolas he feels compelled to share with us (apparently all species of males are pretty much the same). Makes a person wonder how those things don’t get ripped off during the gravity-defying leaps they make as they hurl themselves from tree to tree.
We made another expedition into the swamp the other night to see what hidden jungle delights would reveal themselves to us under the probing glare of our flashlights. We were lucky to see several more beautiful frogs, a caiman who did not appreciate the intrusion and several other critters. It is at this point where I feel the need to explain the course of the evening……. Earlier in the day I was simply delighted to discover a still-fresh scorpion beside my bed that I had obviously inadvertently pinned with my computer lap-desk that morning. It was a clever scorpion who realized that it wasn’t going to be unpinned any time soon so promptly did what all scorpions should do and died. This left me with a sense of disquiet (cough) which lingered with me throughout the day. So……fast-forward to our swamp trek. Halfway there Bobby shines his light on a nearby log which has become the display platform for a spider the size of a dinner plate. To make it an even more special treat, and here I do not exaggerate in the tiniest way, the damn things eye was big enough TO REFLECT THE LIGHT RIGHT BACK AT US!!!!
OK, creepy but I must remain brave for my boys so I encourage them to gaze at it and their father to take pictures of it and for everyone to drink in the wonder of family arachnidae.
By this time I have developed goose-bumps that apparently have a life of their own and refuse to shrink back in to my flesh where they belong. My head and light-beam begin to swivel more quickly and erratically. I am still trying to narrate things in a sing-song manner, all the while my husband is secretly wondering when I’m going to crack. As we hit the boardwalk, Liam quickly spies the pretty little caiman so, thus challenged by the 9 year-old, we all set about trying to find special sightings of our own. I am looking very hard in all the reeds to find the frogs but doing so from the exact center of the boardwalk because by this time experience has taught me what lives under the rails. Sure enough, Bobby (again) lets out a bellow and begins to hop up and down in a frantic manner gesticulating at the rail nearest to him. Apparently a spider is lurking under the rail in a very menacing manner who has the effrontery to not only be huge but orange, crab-like and dragging behind her an egg sac that is the size of a large cotton-ball. Breaking-point is approaching at mach 6. Liam and I refuse to look or take part in any way in this fascinating sighting. In fact, we nonchalantly wander further down the walk and hope somebody will have the sense to fling it into the swamp (didn’t happen). Liam begins to whimper on the outside and I (still trying to be brave) begin to whimper and quiver on the inside. Soooo….because I have the best interest of my youngest son at heart I graciously give in to his pleas to be taken back to the cabin and escort him (quite quickly in fact) back through the forest and into the relative safety of our scorpion infested home.
Before bed that evening, all the corners were examined, the bed covers ripped back to assess for uninvited occupants, a flashlight placed within easy reach, open-toed flip-flops immediately ready where my feet would hit the floor and, most importantly, a potent sleeping aid gratefully ingested. I have since asked grampa Mick to come down and rescue me and for him to bring a big gun but I have yet to see the whites of his eyes.
MOTHER, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER THAN THIS !!
So last night, rumor had it that there was a large fer-de-lance basking in the ambient heat reflected by the warm concrete trail. So after dinner, at about 8PM, we felt that it would be a good idea to go and see if there was any merit to said rumor. So we all got on our jungle gear (except grampa and Liam who elected to stay behind) and began the trek out to marker 450 (apparently a portion of this particular trail appeals a great deal to snakes as Bobby [again] spied a coral snake in the same section the night before). It was pitch black, the mosquitoes were fierce and the trail was liberally littered with wet jungle debris making it difficult to distinguish between snaky fauna and snaky-looking flora. Sure enough there it was in a large coil, minding its own business while our troop of excitedly terrified gawkers intrepidly sidled up and shone their many obnoxious flashlights in its face. It was very beautiful but quite large; its body was probably the circumference of a large salami, and about 4 feet in length.
Well, Mr. Lance was none too appreciative of the attention so quickly uncoiled and made his way into the bush on the side of the trail. This was a signal for all the onlookers to take a sharp breath and make several backward steps until we could determine which way he was headed. As it was, as soon as he hit the bush he stopped and recoiled (all the better to strike us with), being quite careful to keep us firmly in his sight. During all this drama Bill is snapping off pictures at a furious rate and Dwight is following it with his flashlight so as to provide helpful illumination (!). Once Bill is happy with the number of pictures he’s taken we stop to take a look at them. This means the lights are directed away from Mr. Lance for a moment and pointed at the camera. Bill decides he needs a couple more shots so the lights are dutifully pointed back at the impressive serpent……..only to discover that he is no longer there!! Time elapse could only have been about 30 – 45 seconds and not a sound was heard! A decision was quickly and expeditiously made that we probably had enough pictures and it was time to head back to the cabins.
So, our adventure continues and we experience new and wonderful (mostly) things every day. More soon.
Michelle
We made another expedition into the swamp the other night to see what hidden jungle delights would reveal themselves to us under the probing glare of our flashlights. We were lucky to see several more beautiful frogs, a caiman who did not appreciate the intrusion and several other critters. It is at this point where I feel the need to explain the course of the evening……. Earlier in the day I was simply delighted to discover a still-fresh scorpion beside my bed that I had obviously inadvertently pinned with my computer lap-desk that morning. It was a clever scorpion who realized that it wasn’t going to be unpinned any time soon so promptly did what all scorpions should do and died. This left me with a sense of disquiet (cough) which lingered with me throughout the day. So……fast-forward to our swamp trek. Halfway there Bobby shines his light on a nearby log which has become the display platform for a spider the size of a dinner plate. To make it an even more special treat, and here I do not exaggerate in the tiniest way, the damn things eye was big enough TO REFLECT THE LIGHT RIGHT BACK AT US!!!!
OK, creepy but I must remain brave for my boys so I encourage them to gaze at it and their father to take pictures of it and for everyone to drink in the wonder of family arachnidae.
By this time I have developed goose-bumps that apparently have a life of their own and refuse to shrink back in to my flesh where they belong. My head and light-beam begin to swivel more quickly and erratically. I am still trying to narrate things in a sing-song manner, all the while my husband is secretly wondering when I’m going to crack. As we hit the boardwalk, Liam quickly spies the pretty little caiman so, thus challenged by the 9 year-old, we all set about trying to find special sightings of our own. I am looking very hard in all the reeds to find the frogs but doing so from the exact center of the boardwalk because by this time experience has taught me what lives under the rails. Sure enough, Bobby (again) lets out a bellow and begins to hop up and down in a frantic manner gesticulating at the rail nearest to him. Apparently a spider is lurking under the rail in a very menacing manner who has the effrontery to not only be huge but orange, crab-like and dragging behind her an egg sac that is the size of a large cotton-ball. Breaking-point is approaching at mach 6. Liam and I refuse to look or take part in any way in this fascinating sighting. In fact, we nonchalantly wander further down the walk and hope somebody will have the sense to fling it into the swamp (didn’t happen). Liam begins to whimper on the outside and I (still trying to be brave) begin to whimper and quiver on the inside. Soooo….because I have the best interest of my youngest son at heart I graciously give in to his pleas to be taken back to the cabin and escort him (quite quickly in fact) back through the forest and into the relative safety of our scorpion infested home.
Before bed that evening, all the corners were examined, the bed covers ripped back to assess for uninvited occupants, a flashlight placed within easy reach, open-toed flip-flops immediately ready where my feet would hit the floor and, most importantly, a potent sleeping aid gratefully ingested. I have since asked grampa Mick to come down and rescue me and for him to bring a big gun but I have yet to see the whites of his eyes.
MOTHER, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER THAN THIS !!
So last night, rumor had it that there was a large fer-de-lance basking in the ambient heat reflected by the warm concrete trail. So after dinner, at about 8PM, we felt that it would be a good idea to go and see if there was any merit to said rumor. So we all got on our jungle gear (except grampa and Liam who elected to stay behind) and began the trek out to marker 450 (apparently a portion of this particular trail appeals a great deal to snakes as Bobby [again] spied a coral snake in the same section the night before). It was pitch black, the mosquitoes were fierce and the trail was liberally littered with wet jungle debris making it difficult to distinguish between snaky fauna and snaky-looking flora. Sure enough there it was in a large coil, minding its own business while our troop of excitedly terrified gawkers intrepidly sidled up and shone their many obnoxious flashlights in its face. It was very beautiful but quite large; its body was probably the circumference of a large salami, and about 4 feet in length.
Well, Mr. Lance was none too appreciative of the attention so quickly uncoiled and made his way into the bush on the side of the trail. This was a signal for all the onlookers to take a sharp breath and make several backward steps until we could determine which way he was headed. As it was, as soon as he hit the bush he stopped and recoiled (all the better to strike us with), being quite careful to keep us firmly in his sight. During all this drama Bill is snapping off pictures at a furious rate and Dwight is following it with his flashlight so as to provide helpful illumination (!). Once Bill is happy with the number of pictures he’s taken we stop to take a look at them. This means the lights are directed away from Mr. Lance for a moment and pointed at the camera. Bill decides he needs a couple more shots so the lights are dutifully pointed back at the impressive serpent……..only to discover that he is no longer there!! Time elapse could only have been about 30 – 45 seconds and not a sound was heard! A decision was quickly and expeditiously made that we probably had enough pictures and it was time to head back to the cabins.
So, our adventure continues and we experience new and wonderful (mostly) things every day. More soon.
Michelle
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