Where I live now, I’ve joined a DVD rental store. It’s in the back of a clothing and gift store, before you hit the house plants. Everything in Monteverde is more than one thing; like the bookstore that’s also an office supply store and also a laundromat and also a café. In order to join the DVD rental program, I simply had to give my name and phone number. No credit card required. And, I return the DVDs whenever I finish them. So, it’s like Netflix, on the honor system.
After work on Friday, three friends and I enjoyed an impromptu girl’s night out at a fantastic local restaurant where we ate unbelievable pizza (I know, I know, Chicago and New York friends- it’s good other places too), real wine (the box wine here will be its own blog entry) and a massive amount of dessert, half of which was on the house. When the bill came the owner was very apologetic that I couldn’t use my card because the machine was down. I said, “No problem, I’ll run to the ATM down the street.” And he said, I swear this is true, “No, please don’t, it’s raining, just pay me tomorrow.” I then said, “No, really, the ATM is so close.” He replied with, “Well, at least let me drive you because it’s raining.” The ATM was seriously twenty feet away. This really happened. High up on a mountain, in the middle of a cloud forest, in Central America.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
It's Bearable With An Umbrella
I bought an umbrella which has made a huge difference in my life outlook. This may seem obvious, but I had thought that my full-body rain suit was enough. It turns out that an umbrella makes me feel armed for the movable waterfall (what I've decided rain is like here); I fully anticipate not even noticing the rain by the end of October. Well, maybe that won't happen, but I'm feeling positive. The other big news from today is that our students papered the Science teacher's windows with clever cut-outs of birds because three toucanets had rammed into the window and two had died. The sad part of the story is that two birds died, but the awesome part of the story is that I teach in a place where frequent toucanet spottings are the norm. Even as a I miss strolling along pavement and seeing a movie on a big screen, I am intensely aware of how much I will miss the jungle sounds when we leave. Every night it is as if we are truly engulfed by the jungle, taken in and enveloped by the sounds and dangers and mysteries; nothing between us and the famous Cloud Forest except for our rather thin (but well built :) walls.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The fruit is always sweeter....
I clearly suffer from the deadly sin of envy. I'm working on it. When I lived in the States, even bountiful California, I would look with longing at the imported pineapples, mangoes, and papayas and walk dutifully away because they were expensive and not within the parameters of an ecologically responsible "Hundred Mile Diet." Now, I gorge myself on these sweet tropical delights and am deliriously happy to do us. Until I wonder through the produce aisle of the Supercompro and notice the small mound of peaches, grapes, and plums. Imported, of course, from California. And then I want those. And cherries. And clementines. The clementines are from Peru, is that okay? I know it's not. Sigh.
In a similar vein, many of the ex-pats of Monteverde are drawn to this little mountain jungle because of an urge to escape consumerism; to focus less on material objects and feel closer to the land. And we are indeed closer to the land- I showered with two worms and a moth yesterday, which is pretty par for the course. And there is less of an emphasis on material goods, mainly because they are harder to get up here on the mountain. In reality, everything that you really need, you can find here. This is not hard living or deprived living by any means. But, there is less choice. No big box stores. No strip malls.
However, I have heard the life-long Monteverde residents yearn for the bloated choice of the States with the same intensity that us ex-pats yearn for a life of cage-free eggs and local milk. Our incredibly sweet and generous landlord is a very skilled builder who built their beautiful house, as well as ours, and he confessed to us that the one thing he covets from the States is Home Depot. And, I was eves-dropping on two high school students- one who had just returned from a year in the States and one who was heading there for a year- the one about to leave said that he couldn't wait to go to Wal-Mart, "I heard it's huge, with everything you could ever want!" and the other one impressed the need to go to Starbucks, "It's wonderful- they're everywhere, and you order a carmel machiato." Of course, these desires for the trappings of a life that we are not used to could be as simple as "the grass is always greener," or the human drive to experience and taste new experiences. But, I do think it's interesting to realize that maybe there is no perfect place with perfect solutions to living; maybe the goal is to appreciate the bonuses of where you are at any given moment. Maybe.
In a similar vein, many of the ex-pats of Monteverde are drawn to this little mountain jungle because of an urge to escape consumerism; to focus less on material objects and feel closer to the land. And we are indeed closer to the land- I showered with two worms and a moth yesterday, which is pretty par for the course. And there is less of an emphasis on material goods, mainly because they are harder to get up here on the mountain. In reality, everything that you really need, you can find here. This is not hard living or deprived living by any means. But, there is less choice. No big box stores. No strip malls.
However, I have heard the life-long Monteverde residents yearn for the bloated choice of the States with the same intensity that us ex-pats yearn for a life of cage-free eggs and local milk. Our incredibly sweet and generous landlord is a very skilled builder who built their beautiful house, as well as ours, and he confessed to us that the one thing he covets from the States is Home Depot. And, I was eves-dropping on two high school students- one who had just returned from a year in the States and one who was heading there for a year- the one about to leave said that he couldn't wait to go to Wal-Mart, "I heard it's huge, with everything you could ever want!" and the other one impressed the need to go to Starbucks, "It's wonderful- they're everywhere, and you order a carmel machiato." Of course, these desires for the trappings of a life that we are not used to could be as simple as "the grass is always greener," or the human drive to experience and taste new experiences. But, I do think it's interesting to realize that maybe there is no perfect place with perfect solutions to living; maybe the goal is to appreciate the bonuses of where you are at any given moment. Maybe.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I’m not going to lie to you, despite the cautiously optimistic pep-talk tenor of some of my previous entries, I’m not sure I’m going to make it here. Which is unfair because Frank Sinatra promised me that if I could make it in New York, I could make it anywhere. Well, I could make it in New York, but this is a whole new world of hard; Let me illustrate my point:
Yesterday morning, I was with the 7th graders doing some team building exercises when some little bugger bastard stung my lip. So, I spent the rest of the day with a hugely swollen fat lip. It was awesome.
This morning Rob had to kill a spider with a hammer. Yes, that’s right, the spider, IN OUR HOUSE, was so big that the only thing capable of killing it was a hammer. It was in the kitchen sink. This was also awesome.
As my 11th graders were diligently and happily working away in Writer’s Workshop this morning, a tarantula wasp zoomed by the porch and stung one of my student’s feet. His foot swelled up and I sent him immediately to the office. Why? Oh, just because the tarantula wasp (so named because it lays its eggs in a tarantula, rendering the tarantula paralyzed for the rest of its humiliating life) sting will cause TISSUE DEATH in humans. My student was incredibly lucky and, because he was wearing a sock, the sting wasn’t too deep and he will be fine. This was, by far, the most awesome event of the past two days.
Yesterday’s rip-roaring downpour destroyed many areas of the main road and now sections of my walk home involve fording rivers. I’m thinking of getting a kayack.
In order to be fair and balanced, here are some wonderful events of the past few days:
My students are awesome; they’re affectionate and funny and warm and committed to learning.
I’m still amazed by the clouds and mist rolling in over the hills as I stand on the porch of my classroom.
I don’t need an alarm clock because at exactly 6am every day a true symphony of tropical birds start warming up and gently wake me up.
Papaya. So good. So very good.
Same about pineapple.
And avocados.
Yesterday morning, I was with the 7th graders doing some team building exercises when some little bugger bastard stung my lip. So, I spent the rest of the day with a hugely swollen fat lip. It was awesome.
This morning Rob had to kill a spider with a hammer. Yes, that’s right, the spider, IN OUR HOUSE, was so big that the only thing capable of killing it was a hammer. It was in the kitchen sink. This was also awesome.
As my 11th graders were diligently and happily working away in Writer’s Workshop this morning, a tarantula wasp zoomed by the porch and stung one of my student’s feet. His foot swelled up and I sent him immediately to the office. Why? Oh, just because the tarantula wasp (so named because it lays its eggs in a tarantula, rendering the tarantula paralyzed for the rest of its humiliating life) sting will cause TISSUE DEATH in humans. My student was incredibly lucky and, because he was wearing a sock, the sting wasn’t too deep and he will be fine. This was, by far, the most awesome event of the past two days.
Yesterday’s rip-roaring downpour destroyed many areas of the main road and now sections of my walk home involve fording rivers. I’m thinking of getting a kayack.
In order to be fair and balanced, here are some wonderful events of the past few days:
My students are awesome; they’re affectionate and funny and warm and committed to learning.
I’m still amazed by the clouds and mist rolling in over the hills as I stand on the porch of my classroom.
I don’t need an alarm clock because at exactly 6am every day a true symphony of tropical birds start warming up and gently wake me up.
Papaya. So good. So very good.
Same about pineapple.
And avocados.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Cleary, I Took the Teaching Job and Rob and I Moved Back to Monteverde, Costa Rica One Week Ago
It is sort of impossible to live here, physically. I have just spent quite a while reading the fun and informative blogs of other US city folk living in Monteverde and they all devote a lot of time lamenting the damp. There is indeed no magical realism in Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s novels; I still love them, but the pervasiveness of the jungle is all too real realism- ain’t nothing made up about it. Since it does seem to be the lot of those temporarily living here to describe what rain is here, I will too.
We’ve been in our house for one week and my passport and several books have already started to wilt, crumple, and warp. I left a handout on a table at school today for one hour and when I came back it felt as if it had been dropped in a lake- emphasis here on the fact that it had not been raining. We were here in the spring and therefore are experiencing the rainy season for the first time (although I’m pretty sure that the dry season in Monteverde involves more rainfall than yearly averages in many places). We have been duly warned that our clothes will sprout mildew and take days to dry on the line and we are frightened enough by the inevitable mold attacks on the walls to acquiesce to a professional cleaning woman once every three weeks who will scrub them.
And, I’m cold all the time. Northern-California-can’t-get-rid-of-the-chill cold, but worse because everything is always some degree of damp. I’m cold all the time except when I’m hot and sweaty. We walk everywhere; I was expecting to walk everywhere since that was our experience four months ago, but the final hill up to the CEC, where I’m teaching 7th-11th grade English, is a ten minute leg-breaking, heart-pounding, sweat party. However, there is an upside to everything (Right? Right? Please say, I’m right…) and walking everywhere means that I feel healthy and truly hungry (not just it’s-been-five-hours-since-I-ate-so-I-should-eat-again hungry) and I sleep marvelously.
Continuing the upside theme, our house is lovely. I’ve used the word lovely a lot and now I know that I’ve never really used it so aptly- our house is truly lovely. It’s bright blue on the outside, so you can see it peeking through the jungle leaves, and orange and blue on the inside (trust me, it works). There is a marvelous energy in the house, which was only confirmed when we ran into a friend at the farmer’s market who had lived there before and she started crying because her memories of the house are so good. Our landlords are an amazingly warm and generous couple. They live behind us (they built both houses, of course) and we enjoyed a delicious and delightful breakfast at their place last Sunday. The house is also full of windows, clever places to sit and read, and it’s minutes from the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, so we are constantly treated to the calls and colors of amazing rainforest birds.
Back to the difficult side of things, this is a hard transition for me. Of course, you all know that change and transition are not my strong suits and some PhD student should research me as THE case study on homesickness. I worry a little that a year without museums, busy streets, movies, plays, and crowded bookstores will be unbearable for me. However, when we went to the community’s kid production of “Oliver!” (which was awesome) on Saturday night and ran into old friends and faces from our time here before, everyone was so open and friendly in a way that is special to this mountain hamlet. Also, my fellow teachers at the CEC are an enthusiastic, excited bunch; so I keep telling myself, I may miss urban life and knowing what it is to be dry, but the people here couldn’t be more welcoming. Learning Spanish too, has become the big goal of this year and one that I’m already progressing in. It’s mentally exhausting to try to learn a new language and speak it to new friends and colleagues, but just like the walking, it’s wonderful to be really spent at the end of the day.
And, of course, it’s the rainforest. It’s powerful and soothing all at the same time and as I walk up the path to my classroom (yes, to get from building to building at my school, hiking is involved ☺ I hear the oh-so-cheesy and oh-so-accurate refrain, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
We’ve been in our house for one week and my passport and several books have already started to wilt, crumple, and warp. I left a handout on a table at school today for one hour and when I came back it felt as if it had been dropped in a lake- emphasis here on the fact that it had not been raining. We were here in the spring and therefore are experiencing the rainy season for the first time (although I’m pretty sure that the dry season in Monteverde involves more rainfall than yearly averages in many places). We have been duly warned that our clothes will sprout mildew and take days to dry on the line and we are frightened enough by the inevitable mold attacks on the walls to acquiesce to a professional cleaning woman once every three weeks who will scrub them.
And, I’m cold all the time. Northern-California-can’t-get-rid-of-the-chill cold, but worse because everything is always some degree of damp. I’m cold all the time except when I’m hot and sweaty. We walk everywhere; I was expecting to walk everywhere since that was our experience four months ago, but the final hill up to the CEC, where I’m teaching 7th-11th grade English, is a ten minute leg-breaking, heart-pounding, sweat party. However, there is an upside to everything (Right? Right? Please say, I’m right…) and walking everywhere means that I feel healthy and truly hungry (not just it’s-been-five-hours-since-I-ate-so-I-should-eat-again hungry) and I sleep marvelously.
Continuing the upside theme, our house is lovely. I’ve used the word lovely a lot and now I know that I’ve never really used it so aptly- our house is truly lovely. It’s bright blue on the outside, so you can see it peeking through the jungle leaves, and orange and blue on the inside (trust me, it works). There is a marvelous energy in the house, which was only confirmed when we ran into a friend at the farmer’s market who had lived there before and she started crying because her memories of the house are so good. Our landlords are an amazingly warm and generous couple. They live behind us (they built both houses, of course) and we enjoyed a delicious and delightful breakfast at their place last Sunday. The house is also full of windows, clever places to sit and read, and it’s minutes from the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, so we are constantly treated to the calls and colors of amazing rainforest birds.
Back to the difficult side of things, this is a hard transition for me. Of course, you all know that change and transition are not my strong suits and some PhD student should research me as THE case study on homesickness. I worry a little that a year without museums, busy streets, movies, plays, and crowded bookstores will be unbearable for me. However, when we went to the community’s kid production of “Oliver!” (which was awesome) on Saturday night and ran into old friends and faces from our time here before, everyone was so open and friendly in a way that is special to this mountain hamlet. Also, my fellow teachers at the CEC are an enthusiastic, excited bunch; so I keep telling myself, I may miss urban life and knowing what it is to be dry, but the people here couldn’t be more welcoming. Learning Spanish too, has become the big goal of this year and one that I’m already progressing in. It’s mentally exhausting to try to learn a new language and speak it to new friends and colleagues, but just like the walking, it’s wonderful to be really spent at the end of the day.
And, of course, it’s the rainforest. It’s powerful and soothing all at the same time and as I walk up the path to my classroom (yes, to get from building to building at my school, hiking is involved ☺ I hear the oh-so-cheesy and oh-so-accurate refrain, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
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