Rain, Rain, and More Rain....

I realize that it’s been ten days since I published my last post… I think the rain definitely brings down energy levels… It’s official- we are in the rainy season. Rob has turned to me frequently over the past few days and said, “It just doesn’t stop, does it?” We’re all coping but I am starting to think that I need to check Rob’s computer at the end of the day to make sure that it’s not filled with, “All work and no play makes Rob a dull boy.” I know I promised I wouldn’t talk about just the rain, so I’ll try to make this the last posting obsessing over it, but, for those of you who have never experienced a tropical rainy season, it’s pretty intense. Basically, we’re into the home stretch we’ve lost the warm, sunny mornings that fade into afternoon storms. For the next six weeks we will live in a world of gloomy grey where the sun will remain hidden behind the clouds. On lucky days, there will be a few hours without rain, but usually it’s always raining- somewhere on the spectrum between drizzle and monsoon with lightening. Similarly, our towels are never dry, just varying degrees of “less wet,” there’s mold on everything, creating an omnipresent aroma of mildew, and we’re usually cold.

So, the rain brings on reflection and I’ve been reminiscing about times past and missing both Berkeley and New York and our families and friends, while also having a great time here. On Friday night, what was supposed to be a few drinks after work turned into a marathon game of Pop Cranium with a massive amount of laughter and screaming. As the rain pelted down, I realized that there is something special about being with a group of friends who, while different in many ways, all share the rather unique fact of deciding to leave the states and teach in Central America. I definitely thought of my favorite quote of all time, from Mrs. Dalloway, “You want to say to each moment, stay, stay.” So, I guess I’m lucky that my biggest problem is that I’ve enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, my life so much that I want each moment to stay.

On Saturday night we went to a huge party at a board member’s house. Her husband is the president of the Monteverde Cheese Factory so we gorged on the cheese and pork products they produced. Then, on Sunday, we had some friends over for dinner and everyone was very impressed by Rob’s delicious recreation of New York Chinese Food (peanut noodles and sesame chicken and broccoli). Apparently, when it rains, we eat ☺

Can there be foreshadowing in your real life?

As a devoted and somewhat obsessive English teacher, one of the many topics that we've been exploring deeply in my 11th grade class this quarter is foreshadowing. So, of course, I now see it constantly in every book I read and every movie I see. Now I'm wondering, can my own life contain foreshadowing? Every once in a while Rob likes to tease me while I cut up our mammoth papayas by reminiscing about how I used to buy sad little containers of taste-less mango and papaya at our Brooklyn bodegas. It was a frequent buy of mine because I am a true fruit lover and hope springs eternal; I always thought that one time they would conjure paradise. They didn't quite, but maybe all that was just foreshadowing of the time when I would live deep in a Costa Rican jungle abundant with tropical fruit.

I never planned on coming to Costa Rica, it wasn't a childhood dream, it was a truly surprising offer that we decided to spontaneously grab. Therefore, I'm not one of the many ex-pats who came here seeking a country free from the possibilities of war and I've tried to avoid the cliché of fawning over the lack of a military here. However, I have always been deeply disturbed by war and confused by its prevalence in our world. So, maybe all those feelings, all my life, were a kind of foreshadowing for now. Now, when I live in a country that is deeply proud of not having a military. We just celebrated Independence Day on September 15th and it was a moving experience from start to finish. Independence came to Central America in 1821 when Spain sent a message to the government in Antigua, Guatemala, stating that Central America was now free (Spain was too drained by the fighting with Simon Bolivar in South America to hold onto her colonies). Then, riders, on horseback, shared the news by traveling, by torch, up to Honduras, and down to Nicaragua and Costa Rica. And so, Ticos are quite proud that even Independence came without a fight (at least, without a fight in Central America). Also, in the 1970's, the minister of education decided that without a violent military, the children are the army of the future and should therefore be the representatives of re-enacting the torch run. Every year, a runner re-enacts the running of the torch from Antigua to Cartaga and all along the way school groups meet the runner on the Pan-America highway, light their torches, and run them back to their schools. I think this is beautiful. Then, at 6pm on September 14th, the entire country sings the nation anthem and each town celebrates with a parade of lanterns that the school children have made. Again, a touching and vibrant experience that I won't soon forget. The following morning, on September 15th, we all (really, the whole zone- everyone was there) gathered for the annual parade where the students from various schools celebrated Independence by playing the drum songs that they had been practicing for months, carrying banners, wearing traditional dance costumes, and generally having a great time. It truly was an example of Pura Vida!

Is It Weird That I Sometimes Wish My Life Were A Montage Scene in a British Romantic Comedy?

Is it? I'll explain. London is not my favorite place in the world; there are cities, towns, beaches, and forests which I would choose above London. However, I do love London. I think I have a large capacity for loving many cities (sort of a metropolitan polygamy?) and London and its many charms and reliable cultural icons has a firm place in my heart and always has. I also love British Pop. And romantic comedies. The result is that whenever I hear certain British music, I start to fantasize that I'm a Bridget Jones type character moving pensively through London as a montage of my life scrolls across the screen- rainy days huddled in a "cold-water flat," sunny days in Hyde Park, thoughtfully pondering my broken heart in the Tate Modern, etc. Since these fantasy montages are not closely linked to my life; past reality, current situation, or desire for the future, I'm not really sure were the urge to be briskly walking along the Thames while The Cure or Jamiroquai play comes from.

Cut to my real life- twice a week (at least) I walk home, in the dark, through the jungle. I am addicted to my Tuesday and Thursday evening yoga classes at Rio Shanti and when the classes let out at 7:00pm, the bosque is quite dark and already teeming its nocturnal life. On Tuesdays, I walk home with two friends who live near me. However, on Thursdays, there is no friend heading my way, so I walk, through the dark, for 30 minutes, uphill, deeper and deeper into the cloud forest until I arrive at our happy, blue house. So, on Thursdays it's just me and my iPod. I've started a game where I must listen to my entire iPod on shuffle, whatever comes up, no matter how random. Last Thursday Dido popped on and I was immediately immersed in one of those moods that only a song can put you in- I was nostalgic for my early days in New York when my then-room-mate and I listened to this album obsessively, I was also, obviously, imagining my British montage life, and I was simultaneously deliriously happy to be at home in the jungle. It's my home now, and it's absurd and yet perfectly reasonable that this is where I am now, and I'm starting to worry that when I leave I'll desperately miss the sparkle of the rainforest- the strange and delightful creatures and plants at every turn. Seriously, there was not an ounce of imagination in Avatar- that's my life now. Well, no blue people or flying dragons- but pretty much everything else.

Little Town- Big Busy

As I’ve made abundantly clear on this blog, I am not used to small town life; so, maybe, my experience in Monteverde is similar to small town life elsewhere, but, to me, it’s entirely unique and surprising in its delights. I’m starting to find that Rob’s and my social life is almost more packed here than it’s been anywhere else and one of the main reasons that I don’t miss watching TV at all (except, of course, for occasional Law & Order cravings) is because I honestly don’t know when I’d find the time for TV.

Friday was open-mike night at a local restaurant, organized by the theater/music teacher in town. We went with several friends and of course a large gathering from town was there to support the students who were singing. I was very proud of my talented students who shared their music and I thought, “If I can’t have Duplex (the best piano bar in New York City) right now, this is really just as good.” I constantly enjoy learning how everyone in the town is related and spending more time with the families of my students. After open-mike night, we sauntered down to another café where we enjoyed more talking and drinks with friends at Reggae Night. This café is smack in the middle of a hostel neighborhood and I was pleasantly pleased to discover that my previous envy of the tourists (they get to come and enjoy and then move on) has turned into pity that they don’t get to stay and become a real part of the community. I guess this is acceptance, a kind of growth.

On Saturday, we met friends and went horseback riding to a hot spring. And, yes, I love that an easy option for Saturday afternoon is horseback riding through the most glorious landscape (I felt, alternately, like I was in Lord of the Rings and A Midsummer Night’s Dream) to a secluded hot spring. “Paradise” does not over-state the situation. Perhaps the highlight was when Milton, our guide and colleague at the CEC (this outing was a group of fellow CEC teachers), turned to one friend and I and said, “Le gusta aventura?” And, we found that when your trusted colleague asks is you like adventure and indicates taking the horses off the steep trail and leading them vertically up the side of a mountain, the only real answer is, “Pura Vida!”

The rest of the weekend has included lovely dinners at two different friends’ houses, reading, and more walking. The amazing thing is that the impending Monday morning does not fill me with any stress whatsoever; I’ll read and write and explore interesting questions with my students. And we’ll do all of this as the mist rolls in over the treetops and the toucanets and mot-mots chirp away. Did I mention that there’s a Quetzal who lives across the street from our house? I greet him everyday on my way to work and there’s always a group of tourists gathered around in awe. Of course, they have to leave, and I get to see him the next day too.

Even When It's Not Raining, It's Raining

The jungle always rains. This is a true fact that all the guides at the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve share with all the visitors. Because the fauna in the rain forest thrives on intense amounts of annual rain, many of the plants have evolved to retain the moisture they collect and, as a result, drip and drop condensation even on dry days. So, in our house, deep in the jungle, it always sounds like it's raining. Today, though, it doesn't just sound it- it is definitely raining. For two more months. I promise I will write about other things although I do definitely anticipate the rain being the main focus of my life... I hope it won't turn into an obsession.