-The unpredictable bus schedule that consistently demanded improvization in order to figure out what the hell I needed to do to get where I was supposed to go.
-Bus trips that inevitably took at least three hours longer than anticipated.
-Not possessing a key to the lock or the front gate, and therefore being effectively locked in or out of my own home.
-Paying for public bathroom use.
-Rice and beans 3x each day.
-Needing to throw the toilet paper in the waste basket instead of the toilet.
-Roosters and dogs being my 5:00am alarm clock.
-"Cold" and "extremely cold" showers being the only temperature options.
-The intense whiff of cologne that accompanied the passing of every single male.
-The lack of sunset/sunrise [yay for being almost directly on the equator].
-Inevitably spending anywhere from 16-20 hours of any weekend trip on a bus/waiting for one.
-Ants everywhere. Even somehow in my contact solution container....
-My nighttime gecko friends that lived in the walls of my room and scurried around at night, making unexpected noises.
-Meeting cool travelers.
-Never knowing what was going to happen.
-Making new friends every day.
-Going out dancing.
-Hearing/speaking a language other than English.
-Experiencing another culture.
-Rarely being bored.
-Warmth.
I want to be out again.
xoxo, Cleome
Showing posts with label Spanish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spanish. Show all posts
Monday, January 21, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
Nicaragua
So I went to Nicaragua for 10 days... alone.... And it was awesome.
I'd been thinking about what to do after my volunteer program ended the last week of November, and after much debating decided going to Nicaragua would be
1) fun
2) a chance to see a new country, and
3) not completely terrifying as I'd met a girl who was working in Granada, and so at least had one person I knew who I could go up and hang with for a bit.
While I'd been traveling nearly every weekend before my Nicaragua trip, the thought of backpacking solo still scared me up until the point that I crossed the border between countries. There's just something a little more ominous sounding about "backpacking in a different country completely alone for the first time" than "traveling for the weekend with my bestie Lindsay." At least for me there was.
But I shouldn't have worried. I survived for 10 days and made it back to Costa Rica in time to meet my family at the airport- and managed to have fun while doing so.
Nica Adventure, Cliff Notes Version
Saturday, December 1
-Left at 5:45am for San Jose. Was informed the direct buses to Granada weren't available until Monday. Decided to bus-hop instead. Met American named Sherry at the border who was also going to Granada. Had a tiff with officer in border control window- he "forgot" to stamp my passport. Was denied entrance to country by immigration official and had to return to office for another stamp. Finally boarded bus with Sherry to Granada. Arrived and split off from Sherry to go to hostel where my friend Nonny was working. Set stuff down. Went out with Nonny and friends for dinner/clubbing. Slept at Nonny's friend's house (without Nonny- looonnggg story...). Great first night in Nicaragua.
Sunday, December 2
-Recovered. Explored Granada a bit. Ate typical Nicaraguan "frito." Slept early.
Monday, December 3
-Accompanied Nonny to her volunteering project. Played with kids. Sang the Beatles. Went out for drinks. Packed.
Tuesday, December 4
-Said bye to Nonny and left Granada. Ventured to Isla Ometepe [large island home to two enormous volcanos] by chicken bus and ferry. Felt very alone. Set up volcano hike with guide and a French-Canadian guy named Julian. Tried to sleep in a hammock while listening to a man in the Russian Mafia talk about drugs. Restless night.
Wednesday, December 5
-Woke up at 4am for 5am tour. Ate a pb&banana sammich. Completed an 8-hour volcano hike [5,250 feet up, active volcano, extremely windy]. Felt accomplished and exhausted. Showered and slept.
Thursday, December 6
-Left island for the beaches of San Juan del Sur with my bodyguard, a 29-year old Brit named Romy. Super cool guy. Arrived at crazy hostel in every sense: renovated mansion= crazy luxurious, up on a hill= crazy gorgeous views, party hostel reputation= mentally crazy people. Yikes.
Friday, December 7
-Beach day with Romy! First hitchhiking experience and I was immediately obsessed. Gorgeous water, beautiful day, amazing beach. Located delicious, cheap tacos. Went to major gringo beach party.
Saturday, December 8
-Switched from hostel to dirty, sketch hotel. Switched from hotel to other hostel in town. Breathed a sigh of relief. Met new friends (Max, Simone, Astrid, drunk naked Australian dude, etc.) and walked to the Jesus statue on the hill for sunset. Most delicious shot EVER: rum in a passion fruit half with sugar on the side [thanks Romy!]. Party hopped, night swam in ocean, watched Beerfest [<- pretty funny], didn't sleep much. Fun night.
Sunday, December 9
-Early morning run, another beach day with Romy and Max. More hitchhiking. Sunday BBQ at hostel. Packed and early night.
Monday, December 10
-Left for the border on chicken buses with Romy. Border crossing and parting from Romy. Sad. Sat in a bus aisle for four hours to San Jose. Made it back to Atenas after dinner.
A great trip.
Nica vs Costa
A surprising amount of animosity exists between Costa Ricans and Nicaraguans- mostly coming from the Ticos. I think this mainly has to do with how many Nicas try to enter Costa Rica illegally, but any time something bad happens in Costa Rica it's blamed on the Nicas residing with the country, so maybe their negativity is justified.... Yet despite all the teasing I received from my Tico friends about wanting to visit Nicaragua, I have to say I was quite impressed by the country and in many ways it gives Costa Rica a run for its money.
Major Differences I Observed:
I'd been thinking about what to do after my volunteer program ended the last week of November, and after much debating decided going to Nicaragua would be
1) fun
2) a chance to see a new country, and
3) not completely terrifying as I'd met a girl who was working in Granada, and so at least had one person I knew who I could go up and hang with for a bit.
While I'd been traveling nearly every weekend before my Nicaragua trip, the thought of backpacking solo still scared me up until the point that I crossed the border between countries. There's just something a little more ominous sounding about "backpacking in a different country completely alone for the first time" than "traveling for the weekend with my bestie Lindsay." At least for me there was.
But I shouldn't have worried. I survived for 10 days and made it back to Costa Rica in time to meet my family at the airport- and managed to have fun while doing so.
Nica Adventure, Cliff Notes Version
Saturday, December 1
-Left at 5:45am for San Jose. Was informed the direct buses to Granada weren't available until Monday. Decided to bus-hop instead. Met American named Sherry at the border who was also going to Granada. Had a tiff with officer in border control window- he "forgot" to stamp my passport. Was denied entrance to country by immigration official and had to return to office for another stamp. Finally boarded bus with Sherry to Granada. Arrived and split off from Sherry to go to hostel where my friend Nonny was working. Set stuff down. Went out with Nonny and friends for dinner/clubbing. Slept at Nonny's friend's house (without Nonny- looonnggg story...). Great first night in Nicaragua.
Sunday, December 2
-Recovered. Explored Granada a bit. Ate typical Nicaraguan "frito." Slept early.
Monday, December 3
-Accompanied Nonny to her volunteering project. Played with kids. Sang the Beatles. Went out for drinks. Packed.
Tuesday, December 4
-Said bye to Nonny and left Granada. Ventured to Isla Ometepe [large island home to two enormous volcanos] by chicken bus and ferry. Felt very alone. Set up volcano hike with guide and a French-Canadian guy named Julian. Tried to sleep in a hammock while listening to a man in the Russian Mafia talk about drugs. Restless night.
Wednesday, December 5
-Woke up at 4am for 5am tour. Ate a pb&banana sammich. Completed an 8-hour volcano hike [5,250 feet up, active volcano, extremely windy]. Felt accomplished and exhausted. Showered and slept.
Thursday, December 6
-Left island for the beaches of San Juan del Sur with my bodyguard, a 29-year old Brit named Romy. Super cool guy. Arrived at crazy hostel in every sense: renovated mansion= crazy luxurious, up on a hill= crazy gorgeous views, party hostel reputation= mentally crazy people. Yikes.
Friday, December 7
-Beach day with Romy! First hitchhiking experience and I was immediately obsessed. Gorgeous water, beautiful day, amazing beach. Located delicious, cheap tacos. Went to major gringo beach party.
Saturday, December 8
-Switched from hostel to dirty, sketch hotel. Switched from hotel to other hostel in town. Breathed a sigh of relief. Met new friends (Max, Simone, Astrid, drunk naked Australian dude, etc.) and walked to the Jesus statue on the hill for sunset. Most delicious shot EVER: rum in a passion fruit half with sugar on the side [thanks Romy!]. Party hopped, night swam in ocean, watched Beerfest [<- pretty funny], didn't sleep much. Fun night.
Sunday, December 9
-Early morning run, another beach day with Romy and Max. More hitchhiking. Sunday BBQ at hostel. Packed and early night.
Monday, December 10
-Left for the border on chicken buses with Romy. Border crossing and parting from Romy. Sad. Sat in a bus aisle for four hours to San Jose. Made it back to Atenas after dinner.
A great trip.
Nica vs Costa
A surprising amount of animosity exists between Costa Ricans and Nicaraguans- mostly coming from the Ticos. I think this mainly has to do with how many Nicas try to enter Costa Rica illegally, but any time something bad happens in Costa Rica it's blamed on the Nicas residing with the country, so maybe their negativity is justified.... Yet despite all the teasing I received from my Tico friends about wanting to visit Nicaragua, I have to say I was quite impressed by the country and in many ways it gives Costa Rica a run for its money.
Major Differences I Observed:
- Accent- Nicaraguans speak Spanish slightly differently, leaving me saying "que" a lot more than in Costa Rica. I just wasn't used to it at first.
- Buses- Nicaraguan buses suck, frankly, compared to those of Costa Rica. They're converted school buses instead of greyhounds, which pretty much makes all the difference. Nica "chicken buses" have seats that are smaller, less comfortable, and much more cramped [one of the better times to be short: leg room!]. Also, there either tend to be less seats on Nica buses or just tons more people- every bus I rode was invariably packed to the brim with people. So much so that if you sat next to the aisle, you couldn't escape having one of the standing persons' asses in your face. 'Twas lovely. Also, Nica buses picked up food vendors literally every five feet, meaning there was always someone attempting to entice you into buying something. That happens on Tico buses as well, but only at designated rest stops. [Okay, to be fair some of these differences make Nica buses more fun and entertaining, but if you're existing on three hours of sleep and just trying to get home, they make the ride seem a lot longer....]
- Animals- farm animals roamed a lot more freely in Nicaragua than I've really ever seen in Costa Rica. Buses would have to weave between herds of cows, horses were ties to almost every fence post, and spotting a pig rooting in the bushes by the side of the road was not uncommon. I liked that.
- Cost- without a doubt, Nicaragua is so much easier on the wallet if you're trying to travel on a budget. Hostels, food, drinks, transport- all was MUCH cheaper than in Costa Rica. Bananas were literally $.04 <- you can bet I ate a lot of those. And there were some $.25 tacos in San Juan del Sur that were to die for. Yummmmm.
- Tourists- compared to the most visited areas of Costa Rica, the touristy parts of Nicaragua are still pretty devoid of foreigners. Of course it's not like I was the only gringo in the places I went, but the locals were much more prominent, as was their culture. Costa Rica's popularity and relative prosperity has definitely westernized the Ticos' way of life.
- Places to Go- while there are certainly some amazing places to hit in Nicaragua, there appear to be less locations than in Costa Rica. I was only in Nicaragua for 10 days and saw only three different areas of the country, but I pretty much hit all the "worth seeing" places besides one or two. In Costa Rica there are many more spots to go visit that offer significantly different environments, wildlife, and experiences from each other. I traveled to seven different location in Costa Rica over two months and still have a sizable list of areas I'd love to go check out.
Overall, both countries are amazing, of course. But for a shorter trip or one done on a more limited budget or one in which you're trying to get a taste of a significantly different culture from the US, then I'd recommend Nicaragua over Costa Rica. Costa Rica has some of the most gorgeous natural landscapes in the hemisphere, but the country is more expensive and definitely more Americanized. I'm certainly not upset about having been based in Costa Rica- I'm just saying that were my traveling situation different (i.e. not volunteering and solely backpacking), I'd probably have spent more time in Nicaragua than Costa Rica. But since I had the luxury of being based in Costa Rica and getting to explore the beautiful country, I'm extremely grateful.
I can't wait to get on the road again.
xoxo, Cleome
I can't wait to get on the road again.
xoxo, Cleome
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Weekend Trip #6: Bocas Del Toro, Panama [!]
Panama
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tourthe next that morning. The hostel ended up being too hot and loud to really get any sleep, but it's the thought that counts, right?
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tour
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Monday, November 26, 2012
Weekend #4: Montezuma [aka The Non-Existant Post]
I've written about this weekend in immaculate detail TWICE now. And both times the posts magically deleted themselves. Incredibly frustrating. I know the third time's normally the charm, but I just can't.
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Atenas- Intro and General Life
I guess it´s about time I posted about the second part of my time {of service} in Costa Rica- I have been here for two weeks (since October 5th) now....
Atenas
So alrighty, I´m now stationed in the small, mountain community of Atenas, Alajuela, Costa Rica. The town is one hour west of the capital (San Jose), meaning it´s located nicely in the very center of the country. The town itself is pretty sleepy and uneventful- there´s exactly one {unpopular} sports bar, one church, one "mercado," and one bus station. Although if you were looking for shoe stores or dental clinics, Atenas is the place to be. But I didn´t realize exactly how small it was until I set out my first day here to explore the place, and ended up walking down every street in town in less than two hours. Definitely a change from the Twin Cities.
While the lack of activity and excitement at first made me hesitant about whether or not I was going to like it here, I´ve decided that the comfort of a small town is a much better place for a home base than some large, crazy city. Especially after a fun-filled weekend of traveling (<-- more on this later), having a safe, quiet town to return to {and recover in} is quite welcome. And it´s nice to be able to walk around at night (though, yes, usually with at least one other person), and not feel like I´m going to be molested by every guy I see. {However, while the guys´ manners here are better than on the beach, or in San Jose, walking around is still always accompanied by whistling/hissing/honking- men in Atenas just don´t feel the need to enter your personal space as much.}
Familia Nueva
So what exactly is my home base like? Well, I live with Arelis Rodriguez (my "mom" while I´m here) and her two boys, Alejandro (17) and Fernando (almost 16). They´re a middle-class family who have a house only five minutes from the center of town. I´ve also gotten acquainted with the grandparents, aunts, cousins, etc., since staying connected with {extended} family is a big thing here. And interestingly enough, no one in the family really speaks English. They´ve been having {primarily American} volunteers living with them for at least five years now, but from what it sounds like, there´s always been some communication issues, since most of the volunteers haven´t spoken much Spanish. They were happily surprised that I could hold at least basic conversations.* And my Spanish has definitely improved since being here. I just need to work on verb conjugations and some vocab, and I´m golden.
*Funny story: the first night at dinner, I was sitting at the table alone (having been served first). The younger brother grabbed his plate and sat down awkwardly next to me, and then looked up and asked in Spanish if anyone else was going to come sit at the table. When his mom asked why, he replied "So I won´t have to eat alone." I looked at him pointedly, and said in {halting} Spanish, "You are not alone. I´m here." It caught him so off-guard, and everyone started laughing. He mumbled a sorry to me while looking down at his plate, cheeks red. He confided to me later that he had no idea I could understand what they were saying.
From speaking with other volunteers about their families- and specifically their host moms- I´ve realized there are two general types: those where the host mom babies the volunteer, and those where the host mom doesn´t. I´m experiencing the latter; it´s a good thing. I´ve just come from 18 years of having a mom {I swear, nothing negative is implied here, Mom}, and it´s a nice change (plus what I´m sort of looking for in my year off) to be an essentially independent being. Arelis is nice and I like her a lot (and she´s a good mom to her boys), but besides cooking and changing my sheets, she lets me take care of my own shit, sola. Which is just how I want it. I mean, I´ll soon be traveling entirely alone in Europe, and it´d be a lot harder to visualize taking care of myself if I´d been under motherly care up until that point. {I think the reason she´s not a babier is because she´s pretty young (about to turn 33), and still has kids at home, so I in no way represent a chance to have a child living at home again- she´s currently got two.}
I have my own room upstairs to sleep in, but when I´m at home I generally spend time downstairs in the living room- reading, talking, using the computer, or watching dubbed American movies/over-the-top dramatic Spanish soaps on the TV {which is almost always on}. Besides the first few days, I haven´t spent too much time at the house. Generally I´m out volunteering, at the community center through which the volunteer program is run, taking dance/exercise classes, running, or hanging out with the two other volunteers currently living here.
Arrival
Right now, I´ve completely settled into a good routine here, and am really happy with how everything is going- but it wasn´t always like this. The first three days I was in Atenas, I was miserable. I felt homesick, awkward, unhappy, uncomfortable, bored, etc. It was just not a good point in my trip- but I´ve found that´s pretty common of {my} transition periods.
I think I was feeling so down because I´d just come from the turtle project, where I´d gotten familiar with the routine, I had met some great people, and I was having a lot of fun. Instead, I found myself in a small, boring town {with no beach} where I didn´t know anyone, was living in a home full of strangers who spoke only a foreign language, and {since my time at the orphanage didn´t start until Tuesday, and I arrived Friday afternoon} I had essentially nothing to do all day. I found myself doubting my decision to stay in one place for a whole two months- a lifetime, considering I´d only done a little over two weeks at the turtle place. Plus, I could finally make contact with my family (and friends) through email, facebook, and Skype, and I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to speak with my family, and hear their voices.
But luckily, literally the day after I Skyped with the fam for my first time ever {a horrendous ordeal... long story short, bad internet connection + confusion about whether or not to press the microphone button on the headset when speaking = major frustration/possible tears}, it all changed for the better. I had my orientation with the volunteer coordinator, was given a mini tour of the town, met both Lindsay and Dean {which was an amazing experience, considering just learning of their existence filled me with joy, aha}, had my first Spanish class, and went out that night to the sports bar where I ordered my first "legal" beer. A life-changing day, let me tell you. And from then on, I´ve been in an extremely positive state of mind. It´s amazing the difference one day can make {<-- a thought I´ll be storing for later use in Europe}.
{Week}Day in the Life {of an Orphanage Volunteer Living in Atenas, Costa Rica}
This is my general schedule Monday-Friday morning:
5:30am- wake up {usually naturally- it gets light/loud outside early}
6:00- run
7:00- shower, eat breakfast, fill up my water and grab a snack for later
7:45- meet Lindsay {more on her later} and walk to the bus station
8:00- get on the bus to Palmares {where the kids´ home is located}
9:20- arrive at the childrens´ place after a 20 min. walk from the bus stop
9:30-11:40- play with kids!
12:15pm- catch the bus back to Atenas, eat aforementioned snack
1:20- arrive home for lunch, write emails/blog posts, read
2:30- head to the community center Su Espacio with Lindsay for Spanish classes (the first week)/ independent-study (now)
4:30- Spanish studying ends, leave either for home or to the town center {if I need to buy something}
After 4:30- dinner happens sometime between 6 and 7, and some nights I´ll go out to dance/spinning classes, to the sports bar, or out to hang with Lindsay and/or Dean, Otherwise it´s more writing/reading/relaxing.
8:00-10:00pm- bedtime occurs within this window, on average around 9:00 or 9:30, but last night it was 7:30, and the night before it wasn´t until 11:00 {since I was watching the Costa Rica vs Guyana "futbol" game- veerrryyyy important; luckily they won}
Repeat
The weekends are when the schedule goes out the window, and craziness ensues. I´ll have to go over those in a different post, haha.
Other {Important} People
Not sure how surprising this is, but I may actually interact more with the two other volunteers stationed here right now than my host family.
Lindsay and Dean are the two other volunteers in Atenas right now, and with whom I´ve been spending lots of time with (especially {as Dean likes to point out, in a total show of FOMO, aka fear of missing out} Lindsay). They´re both American, in their early 20´s, and pretty cool. Lindsay is not only volunteering for almost the exact same period of time as me (she´ll be leaving only one week earlier), but she´s also working at the childrens´ home- we´re together a lot. Dean is teaching English in the community center, and actually only has about 1 1/2 weeks left here in Atenas. But Lindsay and I traveled with him last weekend, and I´m pretty sure we´ll be doing so again this coming one, so I´ve definitely gotten to know him. It´s fun having the three of us together- we´ve got a good dynamic going: Dean meets people, who then invite Lindsay and I to go do stuff, and we bring him along. It´s also become a thing to make fun of him, so Lindsay and I are a little worried about how we´re going to pass the time once he´s gone....
I´m so glad there are those two to hang out with here, because like I learned at the turtle project, it´s the people who really help make an experience.
So yeah, that´s my situation for the past few weeks now. I´ve officially been in Costa Rica/away from home for more than a month, and I honestly couldn´t tell you whether it feels like I´ve been away for shorter or longer. My perception of time has gotten so screwed up here. But however long it´s been, I´m not ready for it to end anytime soon.
Off to a spin class with Lindsay {Dean, feel the FOMO}.
xoxo, Cleome
Atenas
So alrighty, I´m now stationed in the small, mountain community of Atenas, Alajuela, Costa Rica. The town is one hour west of the capital (San Jose), meaning it´s located nicely in the very center of the country. The town itself is pretty sleepy and uneventful- there´s exactly one {unpopular} sports bar, one church, one "mercado," and one bus station. Although if you were looking for shoe stores or dental clinics, Atenas is the place to be. But I didn´t realize exactly how small it was until I set out my first day here to explore the place, and ended up walking down every street in town in less than two hours. Definitely a change from the Twin Cities.
While the lack of activity and excitement at first made me hesitant about whether or not I was going to like it here, I´ve decided that the comfort of a small town is a much better place for a home base than some large, crazy city. Especially after a fun-filled weekend of traveling (<-- more on this later), having a safe, quiet town to return to {and recover in} is quite welcome. And it´s nice to be able to walk around at night (though, yes, usually with at least one other person), and not feel like I´m going to be molested by every guy I see. {However, while the guys´ manners here are better than on the beach, or in San Jose, walking around is still always accompanied by whistling/hissing/honking- men in Atenas just don´t feel the need to enter your personal space as much.}
Familia Nueva
So what exactly is my home base like? Well, I live with Arelis Rodriguez (my "mom" while I´m here) and her two boys, Alejandro (17) and Fernando (almost 16). They´re a middle-class family who have a house only five minutes from the center of town. I´ve also gotten acquainted with the grandparents, aunts, cousins, etc., since staying connected with {extended} family is a big thing here. And interestingly enough, no one in the family really speaks English. They´ve been having {primarily American} volunteers living with them for at least five years now, but from what it sounds like, there´s always been some communication issues, since most of the volunteers haven´t spoken much Spanish. They were happily surprised that I could hold at least basic conversations.* And my Spanish has definitely improved since being here. I just need to work on verb conjugations and some vocab, and I´m golden.
*Funny story: the first night at dinner, I was sitting at the table alone (having been served first). The younger brother grabbed his plate and sat down awkwardly next to me, and then looked up and asked in Spanish if anyone else was going to come sit at the table. When his mom asked why, he replied "So I won´t have to eat alone." I looked at him pointedly, and said in {halting} Spanish, "You are not alone. I´m here." It caught him so off-guard, and everyone started laughing. He mumbled a sorry to me while looking down at his plate, cheeks red. He confided to me later that he had no idea I could understand what they were saying.
From speaking with other volunteers about their families- and specifically their host moms- I´ve realized there are two general types: those where the host mom babies the volunteer, and those where the host mom doesn´t. I´m experiencing the latter; it´s a good thing. I´ve just come from 18 years of having a mom {I swear, nothing negative is implied here, Mom}, and it´s a nice change (plus what I´m sort of looking for in my year off) to be an essentially independent being. Arelis is nice and I like her a lot (and she´s a good mom to her boys), but besides cooking and changing my sheets, she lets me take care of my own shit, sola. Which is just how I want it. I mean, I´ll soon be traveling entirely alone in Europe, and it´d be a lot harder to visualize taking care of myself if I´d been under motherly care up until that point. {I think the reason she´s not a babier is because she´s pretty young (about to turn 33), and still has kids at home, so I in no way represent a chance to have a child living at home again- she´s currently got two.}
I have my own room upstairs to sleep in, but when I´m at home I generally spend time downstairs in the living room- reading, talking, using the computer, or watching dubbed American movies/over-the-top dramatic Spanish soaps on the TV {which is almost always on}. Besides the first few days, I haven´t spent too much time at the house. Generally I´m out volunteering, at the community center through which the volunteer program is run, taking dance/exercise classes, running, or hanging out with the two other volunteers currently living here.
Arrival
Right now, I´ve completely settled into a good routine here, and am really happy with how everything is going- but it wasn´t always like this. The first three days I was in Atenas, I was miserable. I felt homesick, awkward, unhappy, uncomfortable, bored, etc. It was just not a good point in my trip- but I´ve found that´s pretty common of {my} transition periods.
I think I was feeling so down because I´d just come from the turtle project, where I´d gotten familiar with the routine, I had met some great people, and I was having a lot of fun. Instead, I found myself in a small, boring town {with no beach} where I didn´t know anyone, was living in a home full of strangers who spoke only a foreign language, and {since my time at the orphanage didn´t start until Tuesday, and I arrived Friday afternoon} I had essentially nothing to do all day. I found myself doubting my decision to stay in one place for a whole two months- a lifetime, considering I´d only done a little over two weeks at the turtle place. Plus, I could finally make contact with my family (and friends) through email, facebook, and Skype, and I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to speak with my family, and hear their voices.
But luckily, literally the day after I Skyped with the fam for my first time ever {a horrendous ordeal... long story short, bad internet connection + confusion about whether or not to press the microphone button on the headset when speaking = major frustration/possible tears}, it all changed for the better. I had my orientation with the volunteer coordinator, was given a mini tour of the town, met both Lindsay and Dean {which was an amazing experience, considering just learning of their existence filled me with joy, aha}, had my first Spanish class, and went out that night to the sports bar where I ordered my first "legal" beer. A life-changing day, let me tell you. And from then on, I´ve been in an extremely positive state of mind. It´s amazing the difference one day can make {<-- a thought I´ll be storing for later use in Europe}.
{Week}Day in the Life {of an Orphanage Volunteer Living in Atenas, Costa Rica}
This is my general schedule Monday-Friday morning:
5:30am- wake up {usually naturally- it gets light/loud outside early}
6:00- run
7:00- shower, eat breakfast, fill up my water and grab a snack for later
7:45- meet Lindsay {more on her later} and walk to the bus station
8:00- get on the bus to Palmares {where the kids´ home is located}
9:20- arrive at the childrens´ place after a 20 min. walk from the bus stop
9:30-11:40- play with kids!
12:15pm- catch the bus back to Atenas, eat aforementioned snack
1:20- arrive home for lunch, write emails/blog posts, read
2:30- head to the community center Su Espacio with Lindsay for Spanish classes (the first week)/ independent-study (now)
4:30- Spanish studying ends, leave either for home or to the town center {if I need to buy something}
After 4:30- dinner happens sometime between 6 and 7, and some nights I´ll go out to dance/spinning classes, to the sports bar, or out to hang with Lindsay and/or Dean, Otherwise it´s more writing/reading/relaxing.
8:00-10:00pm- bedtime occurs within this window, on average around 9:00 or 9:30, but last night it was 7:30, and the night before it wasn´t until 11:00 {since I was watching the Costa Rica vs Guyana "futbol" game- veerrryyyy important; luckily they won}
Repeat
The weekends are when the schedule goes out the window, and craziness ensues. I´ll have to go over those in a different post, haha.
Other {Important} People
Not sure how surprising this is, but I may actually interact more with the two other volunteers stationed here right now than my host family.
Lindsay and Dean are the two other volunteers in Atenas right now, and with whom I´ve been spending lots of time with (especially {as Dean likes to point out, in a total show of FOMO, aka fear of missing out} Lindsay). They´re both American, in their early 20´s, and pretty cool. Lindsay is not only volunteering for almost the exact same period of time as me (she´ll be leaving only one week earlier), but she´s also working at the childrens´ home- we´re together a lot. Dean is teaching English in the community center, and actually only has about 1 1/2 weeks left here in Atenas. But Lindsay and I traveled with him last weekend, and I´m pretty sure we´ll be doing so again this coming one, so I´ve definitely gotten to know him. It´s fun having the three of us together- we´ve got a good dynamic going: Dean meets people, who then invite Lindsay and I to go do stuff, and we bring him along. It´s also become a thing to make fun of him, so Lindsay and I are a little worried about how we´re going to pass the time once he´s gone....
I´m so glad there are those two to hang out with here, because like I learned at the turtle project, it´s the people who really help make an experience.
So yeah, that´s my situation for the past few weeks now. I´ve officially been in Costa Rica/away from home for more than a month, and I honestly couldn´t tell you whether it feels like I´ve been away for shorter or longer. My perception of time has gotten so screwed up here. But however long it´s been, I´m not ready for it to end anytime soon.
Off to a spin class with Lindsay {Dean, feel the FOMO}.
xoxo, Cleome
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Sea Turtle Conservation- Through My Eyes
Alright, here´s all that drama I promised. I hope you´re sitting down....
The Beginning
So when I arrived at the project {after a pretty cool tropical boat ride, in which we saw many birds, and some capuchin monkeys}, there were only three other volunteers (two of which arrived at the same time as me). However a group of four "research assistants"- essentially long-term volunteers who had slightly greater responsibilities/freedom than the normal volunteers {and paid slightly less to be there}- were living there as well. Also present were about four Costa Rican staff members, who came and went as they pleased, but somehow managed the project (? <-- the research assistants were sort of bitter about how much organization the management lacked).
I have to admit that that first week was tough for me. One of the volunteers left three days after I arrived, so only two others remained; the research assistants had been there together for over a month, so they had a sort of clique that I sometimes felt awkward trying to break into, and I was still getting used to the idea of being away from home for so long. There were definitely moments where I wished I´d never signed up, but luckily those were relatively brief. {It helped that the beach was beautiful, untouristed, and clean; the stars were plentiful and bright every night, and chilling in the hammocks was incredibly relaxing.}
The People Make All the Difference
Just at the point where I was getting extremely sick of the work, though, the second wave of volunteers showed up, and I made six great new friends. Honestly, it is partly the people you´re with that make the experience. I bonded with the two other volunteers that stayed my first week (a very cool Australian couple who were completing a South American journey before heading to Canada for winter work), but as they were almost 10 years older, and traveling together, I didn´t really have a person to hang out/bond with. But from the beginning of my second week, volunteers just kept appearing. They were all youngish {though I was definitely still the youngest}, very friendly, and had great stories. Plus there were finally enough people to actually do activities with. I was also being included more in the research assistant "group" becuase I already knew the ropes {it was a weird feeling to be considered "experienced" after just one week, but compared to the newbies I suppose I was}.
I made friends with people from all over the world: Australia, Germany, England, Sweden, France, Spain, the U.S., and, of course, Costa Rica. And most of them were more than happy to invite me to come drop in for a weekend when they learned I´d be traveling through Europe this next Spring {yes Nina, Ronja, Vicki, and Violetta, I am coming to Germany ;)}. What was pretty surprising to me was that 1) there weren´t more people from the USA {the girl who was there for my first three days was the only other American while I was there} and 2) English was the most commonly spoken language.
¿Habla Usted Español?
I went into the project expecting to have to speak Spanish from Day 1. I certainly was thrust into speaking it as soon as I stepped off the plane in San Jose- trying to find a taxi, get to the hostel, buy dinner, set up a ride to the WIDECAST office, buy a bus ticket, etc. And WOW did I forget how exhausting trying to speak another language is. When I met the Australian couple at the WIDECAST office Monday morning, it was so relieving to be able to communicate myself articulately without having to consciously think over what I was trying to say. I actually felt lighter, I was so happy to be able to speak in my native tongue. But when I arrived at the beach, all the research assistants spoke English, and as the days went on, I realized Spanish was certainly not the most common language heard at the project. The locals and permanent Costa Rican staff talked to each other in Spanish, but were relatively separate from all the English-speakers {at least for my first week there}. I had maybe two conversations in Spanish a day, and it certainly wasn´t necessary to do so. But even so, I believe that small exposure to Spanish did help in the transition to speaking another language. It was a great way to balance {re}learning/trying to speak another language, while being able to regress to English during downtime. And funnily enough, while I felt my Spanish was still very rough and basic, most of the Costa Ricans told me I spoke very well- which I suppose may be true in comparison to the majority of the volunteers that they normally get, who don´t speak a lick of the language.
*Funny story: when being picked up by the taxi driver to be taken to catch the boat out to the beach, the person from the project who was supposed to meet with us was late. It fell to me to communicate with the taxi driver {in Spanish}, and express to him that I and the other volunteers were going to look for something to eat before we left for the dock. When the project manager did arrive, they asked the taxi driver how he was able to communicate with us, if none of us really spoke Spanish. The driver replied that no, communication had been fine because luckily I was an "española," a girl from Spain. Flattering, but so unbelievable.
Now for what I generally did all day.
A Day in the Life {of a Turtle-Saving Volunteer}
8:30am- wake up and grab a plate from the kitchen to go eat at the Rancho (shelter with picnic tables/main gathering spot); chat with everyone
9:30- clean plate and check the daily schedule for when I´m on hatchery duty during the day, as well as which chore (cleaning the bathroom, kitchen, or Rancho, or raking) I´ve got; read in the hammock
10:30- go for a swim with others (after applying sunscreen of course, Mom); read on the beach
12:00-2:00pm- hatchery duty {lunch was brought out by another volunteer}
2:30- run on the beach
3:30- {cold} shower; hammock time for writing in journal/reading; check night schedule; change the rehab center turtle´s water
5:00- gather in Rancho with other volunteers to talk/play cards/kill time until dinner
6:00- dinner; talking time
7:30- get ready for bed, set alarm for {patrol} duty
8:00- sleep
11:15- wake up bleary-eyed; get ready for patrol
11:30- fill up water; meet patrol group in Rancho; head out
12-4:30am- night patrol
5:00- fall into bed; sleep
Day restarts
*Obviously that´s a really generalized schedule. Some days I wouldn´t have late-night work, and other days I´d be on hatchery from 6pm-12am- it just depended. Also, I did get one day off (since I stayed more than a week). Oh, and some days the volunteers would go on adventures, whether it was a walk to the river at one end of the beach, or a canoe ride with some of the local {questionable} men. We managed to amuse ourselves. And we even got to cook a few times! I personally helped in making pasta bake, hummus, and an amazing lime cake. I guess it was overall a pretty good time. In a pretty gorgeous location. With pretty cool people. Sigh.
The Good...
So I bet you´re wondering if I actually got to see any turtles, or hatchlings, or tracks at least. The answer is: YES, to all of those. Which maybe seems like a no-brainer considering I went to a beach specifically to see all of those things, but at the time I was there, seeing an actual large turtle- not to mention one that actually stayed on the beach to lay eggs- was pretty rare. There were only something like four turtles who came up and laid in my entire 2 1/2 weeks there.
But yeah, I was on hatchery duty twice when a nest hatched (both were green turtle babies- the prettiest hatchlings that appear on Pacuare Beach)- my first and last hatchery shifts ever, actually. The first time they hatched, I was really not expecting/wanting it to happen. I had been pinching myself to stay awake (I had the 10pm-2am shift), and I decided to check the nests one last time before calling it a night. As I entered the hatchery with my red light on, I just got this feeling like "oh shit, something happened." And sure enough, the first nest I shined my light on illuminated a cage literally overflowing with baby turtles. I was so freaked out and unsure of what to do, that I left the hatchery unguarded {a no-no} and ran to find someone, anyone, who would be able to help. Luckily, since I only had 10 minutes left in my shift, the next person on duty was getting ready to head out, so I grabbed them and we hurried back to deal with the nest. Unfortunately, the turtles had decided to dig up out of the nest on the side of the protective cage, meaning some surfaced outside the cage and were roaming free throughout the hatchery when we arrived. After rounding up the free turtles {a somewhat freaky experience, as you had to make sure you weren´t about to step on them while searching the pitch-black hatchery. Plus I was unsure of how much pressure I could apply to the turtles without killing/maiming them...}, we grabbed the rest of the turtles out of the enclosed cage and placed them all in a bucket. Then we did the measuring and weighing, as well as counting how many there were {something like 93 of them, yeah, TONS}. Finally, we walked a few feet from the entrance of the hatchery, made sure there wasn´t too much debris around, and took the turtles out of the bucket one by one. Because it was dark out, the turtles quickly disappeared from view, and they actually made it to the sea much faster than I would have ever expected. Within 10 minutes, they were all gone.
The second time was essentially the same as the first, except I actually knew what to do.
Now for the really dramatic retelling of the night patrol I saw my first (and last) grown, laying turtle: ´Twas a dark and stormy night... okay, not that dramatic, but in all honesty the weather was awful. One of the only times there was a sustained, heavy rain. And thanks to the storm clouds, it was pitch black on the beach {oh, it´s probably important to point out that when you´re on patrol you don´t actually turn your light on unless you think you´ve seen turtle tracks}. So I was on patrol with this guy named William, and we were about an hour in, having a stilted conversation {not only was he German, but he was also relatively quiet/antisocial}, when he flicked his light on and gestured for me to be quiet. He then went up to the edge of where the sand ended and the forest began, and rushed back to me, saying that we´d found a turtle! We´d come across it when it was in the process of digging it´s nest, so we had to wait until it was done digging to do anything {meaning we got to stand around in the rain getting cold, yay}, but finally it was time for action. I really did feel like some sort of weird ninja, thanks to my all-black outfit and combat-like boots. William held the egg bag under the tail, while I recorded where we´d found the turtle, etc. Once it was done laying (about 15 minutes), we measured its shell (essentially a meter by a meter), and William tagged its flippers. Though we wanted to rush back to the hatchery right then, we had to wait for the turtle to make its way safely back to the sea. It took for what felt like forever, but then I remembered she´d just given birth and I was cursing her for not moving very fast... then I felt bad. But from the time we saw the turtle initially to when it returned to the sea was roughly an hour and 30 minutes. We then raced back to the hatchery where a nest was dug, and the eggs were put inside. Then we went back to the cabins an hour earlier than we were supposed to, to shower and sleep- shhh, don´t tell.
And the Not-So-Good...
From the way I´ve described it above, it might sound like exciting things happened all the time, and every time you worked was fun and amazing. Not true. While overall I greatly enjoyed volunteering with the turtle, I did have four main complaints I can pinpoint about my personal experience with this project: the bugs, the schedule, lack of sleep, and the food. {Future volunteers, take note.}
-Bugs: WOW was I attacked by bugs. Not only mosquitoes (which I knew were going to be bad), but the sand flies as well, seemed intensely attracted to me. I feel like I was one of the worst off, in terms of the severity and sheer amount of my bug bites. They itched so bad- especially at night. And everyone had to comment on how bit up I was....
-Schedule: The way the project was set up (and its isolated location) meant that during the day you were pretty much left to your own devices- which was really nice once the next wave of volunteers showed up, because it left lots of time to talk and hang out. But then at night you were either on 4 or 6 hours of hatchery, or 4 (really 5) hours of night patrol. And that schedule just got really old about 1 1/2 weeks in. You couldn´t really get away and do anything, so it just felt like the same thing day in and day out (which it was). In that sense I was more than ready for a change in scenery.
-Lack of sleep: okay, so it´s not like I was extremely sleep deprived or anything. And you could certainly make up for a shitty night´s sleep by dozing in a hammock during the day. But I guess I got sick of more the lack of uninterrupted sleep. Because, while I´d end up getting between 7 and 9 hours each night, I´d have to go to bed at 7pm, wake up at 9:30pm to go to the hatchery for 4 hours, and then get back in bed around 2:30am, for example. It was just a really screwy schedule. Haha, and now I´m so used to it that I´m exhausted by 8pm, but then wake up at 6am feeling completely rested, since I was able to just sleep through the whole night. I really need to fix that....
-Food: so unfortunately Costa Rica is not know for its food. Coffee, yes {and that reputation is definitely deserved- I didn´t drink coffee until I got here, and now it´s a daily necessity}. And it wasn´t that the food at the project tasted bad or anything; the cook was decent. I (and everyone else who´d been there for more than three days) was simply sick of the lack of fresh fruits and vegetables, the insane amount of carbs, and the lack of variety. Honestly, we ate the same thing for breakfast every day- gallo pinto (rice and beans), a pancake or two, and a small side of scrambled eggs. Lunch was the only time rice didn´t show up on the plate (usually then it was either pasta or fried dough with corn in it <-- blech), and dinner was generally rice, some sort of meat, and maybe a canned vegetable. While the flavors were fine, they were also really bland, so I became best friends with the hot sauce there {it actually ran out the day I left, so perfect timing, right?}. Oh, and we only saw food at those three meals, so if you got hungry in between, sucked for you. Or you could beg a local to cut you down a coconut for a snack ;) But man am I loving my new found access to fruits and veggies.
The End (!)
Haha, so if you´ve actually made it through that extremely long post, congratulations! You now know the details of my (almost) three weeks as a turtle savior in a {not-so-concise} nutshell.
But I had to get it all out before I can start talking about my life now.
Gotta stay chronological.
xoxo, Cleome
The Beginning
So when I arrived at the project {after a pretty cool tropical boat ride, in which we saw many birds, and some capuchin monkeys}, there were only three other volunteers (two of which arrived at the same time as me). However a group of four "research assistants"- essentially long-term volunteers who had slightly greater responsibilities/freedom than the normal volunteers {and paid slightly less to be there}- were living there as well. Also present were about four Costa Rican staff members, who came and went as they pleased, but somehow managed the project (? <-- the research assistants were sort of bitter about how much organization the management lacked).
I have to admit that that first week was tough for me. One of the volunteers left three days after I arrived, so only two others remained; the research assistants had been there together for over a month, so they had a sort of clique that I sometimes felt awkward trying to break into, and I was still getting used to the idea of being away from home for so long. There were definitely moments where I wished I´d never signed up, but luckily those were relatively brief. {It helped that the beach was beautiful, untouristed, and clean; the stars were plentiful and bright every night, and chilling in the hammocks was incredibly relaxing.}
The People Make All the Difference
Just at the point where I was getting extremely sick of the work, though, the second wave of volunteers showed up, and I made six great new friends. Honestly, it is partly the people you´re with that make the experience. I bonded with the two other volunteers that stayed my first week (a very cool Australian couple who were completing a South American journey before heading to Canada for winter work), but as they were almost 10 years older, and traveling together, I didn´t really have a person to hang out/bond with. But from the beginning of my second week, volunteers just kept appearing. They were all youngish {though I was definitely still the youngest}, very friendly, and had great stories. Plus there were finally enough people to actually do activities with. I was also being included more in the research assistant "group" becuase I already knew the ropes {it was a weird feeling to be considered "experienced" after just one week, but compared to the newbies I suppose I was}.
I made friends with people from all over the world: Australia, Germany, England, Sweden, France, Spain, the U.S., and, of course, Costa Rica. And most of them were more than happy to invite me to come drop in for a weekend when they learned I´d be traveling through Europe this next Spring {yes Nina, Ronja, Vicki, and Violetta, I am coming to Germany ;)}. What was pretty surprising to me was that 1) there weren´t more people from the USA {the girl who was there for my first three days was the only other American while I was there} and 2) English was the most commonly spoken language.
¿Habla Usted Español?
I went into the project expecting to have to speak Spanish from Day 1. I certainly was thrust into speaking it as soon as I stepped off the plane in San Jose- trying to find a taxi, get to the hostel, buy dinner, set up a ride to the WIDECAST office, buy a bus ticket, etc. And WOW did I forget how exhausting trying to speak another language is. When I met the Australian couple at the WIDECAST office Monday morning, it was so relieving to be able to communicate myself articulately without having to consciously think over what I was trying to say. I actually felt lighter, I was so happy to be able to speak in my native tongue. But when I arrived at the beach, all the research assistants spoke English, and as the days went on, I realized Spanish was certainly not the most common language heard at the project. The locals and permanent Costa Rican staff talked to each other in Spanish, but were relatively separate from all the English-speakers {at least for my first week there}. I had maybe two conversations in Spanish a day, and it certainly wasn´t necessary to do so. But even so, I believe that small exposure to Spanish did help in the transition to speaking another language. It was a great way to balance {re}learning/trying to speak another language, while being able to regress to English during downtime. And funnily enough, while I felt my Spanish was still very rough and basic, most of the Costa Ricans told me I spoke very well- which I suppose may be true in comparison to the majority of the volunteers that they normally get, who don´t speak a lick of the language.
*Funny story: when being picked up by the taxi driver to be taken to catch the boat out to the beach, the person from the project who was supposed to meet with us was late. It fell to me to communicate with the taxi driver {in Spanish}, and express to him that I and the other volunteers were going to look for something to eat before we left for the dock. When the project manager did arrive, they asked the taxi driver how he was able to communicate with us, if none of us really spoke Spanish. The driver replied that no, communication had been fine because luckily I was an "española," a girl from Spain. Flattering, but so unbelievable.
Now for what I generally did all day.
A Day in the Life {of a Turtle-Saving Volunteer}
8:30am- wake up and grab a plate from the kitchen to go eat at the Rancho (shelter with picnic tables/main gathering spot); chat with everyone
9:30- clean plate and check the daily schedule for when I´m on hatchery duty during the day, as well as which chore (cleaning the bathroom, kitchen, or Rancho, or raking) I´ve got; read in the hammock
10:30- go for a swim with others (after applying sunscreen of course, Mom); read on the beach
12:00-2:00pm- hatchery duty {lunch was brought out by another volunteer}
2:30- run on the beach
3:30- {cold} shower; hammock time for writing in journal/reading; check night schedule; change the rehab center turtle´s water
5:00- gather in Rancho with other volunteers to talk/play cards/kill time until dinner
6:00- dinner; talking time
7:30- get ready for bed, set alarm for {patrol} duty
8:00- sleep
11:15- wake up bleary-eyed; get ready for patrol
11:30- fill up water; meet patrol group in Rancho; head out
12-4:30am- night patrol
5:00- fall into bed; sleep
Day restarts
*Obviously that´s a really generalized schedule. Some days I wouldn´t have late-night work, and other days I´d be on hatchery from 6pm-12am- it just depended. Also, I did get one day off (since I stayed more than a week). Oh, and some days the volunteers would go on adventures, whether it was a walk to the river at one end of the beach, or a canoe ride with some of the local {questionable} men. We managed to amuse ourselves. And we even got to cook a few times! I personally helped in making pasta bake, hummus, and an amazing lime cake. I guess it was overall a pretty good time. In a pretty gorgeous location. With pretty cool people. Sigh.
The Good...
So I bet you´re wondering if I actually got to see any turtles, or hatchlings, or tracks at least. The answer is: YES, to all of those. Which maybe seems like a no-brainer considering I went to a beach specifically to see all of those things, but at the time I was there, seeing an actual large turtle- not to mention one that actually stayed on the beach to lay eggs- was pretty rare. There were only something like four turtles who came up and laid in my entire 2 1/2 weeks there.
But yeah, I was on hatchery duty twice when a nest hatched (both were green turtle babies- the prettiest hatchlings that appear on Pacuare Beach)- my first and last hatchery shifts ever, actually. The first time they hatched, I was really not expecting/wanting it to happen. I had been pinching myself to stay awake (I had the 10pm-2am shift), and I decided to check the nests one last time before calling it a night. As I entered the hatchery with my red light on, I just got this feeling like "oh shit, something happened." And sure enough, the first nest I shined my light on illuminated a cage literally overflowing with baby turtles. I was so freaked out and unsure of what to do, that I left the hatchery unguarded {a no-no} and ran to find someone, anyone, who would be able to help. Luckily, since I only had 10 minutes left in my shift, the next person on duty was getting ready to head out, so I grabbed them and we hurried back to deal with the nest. Unfortunately, the turtles had decided to dig up out of the nest on the side of the protective cage, meaning some surfaced outside the cage and were roaming free throughout the hatchery when we arrived. After rounding up the free turtles {a somewhat freaky experience, as you had to make sure you weren´t about to step on them while searching the pitch-black hatchery. Plus I was unsure of how much pressure I could apply to the turtles without killing/maiming them...}, we grabbed the rest of the turtles out of the enclosed cage and placed them all in a bucket. Then we did the measuring and weighing, as well as counting how many there were {something like 93 of them, yeah, TONS}. Finally, we walked a few feet from the entrance of the hatchery, made sure there wasn´t too much debris around, and took the turtles out of the bucket one by one. Because it was dark out, the turtles quickly disappeared from view, and they actually made it to the sea much faster than I would have ever expected. Within 10 minutes, they were all gone.
The second time was essentially the same as the first, except I actually knew what to do.
Now for the really dramatic retelling of the night patrol I saw my first (and last) grown, laying turtle: ´Twas a dark and stormy night... okay, not that dramatic, but in all honesty the weather was awful. One of the only times there was a sustained, heavy rain. And thanks to the storm clouds, it was pitch black on the beach {oh, it´s probably important to point out that when you´re on patrol you don´t actually turn your light on unless you think you´ve seen turtle tracks}. So I was on patrol with this guy named William, and we were about an hour in, having a stilted conversation {not only was he German, but he was also relatively quiet/antisocial}, when he flicked his light on and gestured for me to be quiet. He then went up to the edge of where the sand ended and the forest began, and rushed back to me, saying that we´d found a turtle! We´d come across it when it was in the process of digging it´s nest, so we had to wait until it was done digging to do anything {meaning we got to stand around in the rain getting cold, yay}, but finally it was time for action. I really did feel like some sort of weird ninja, thanks to my all-black outfit and combat-like boots. William held the egg bag under the tail, while I recorded where we´d found the turtle, etc. Once it was done laying (about 15 minutes), we measured its shell (essentially a meter by a meter), and William tagged its flippers. Though we wanted to rush back to the hatchery right then, we had to wait for the turtle to make its way safely back to the sea. It took for what felt like forever, but then I remembered she´d just given birth and I was cursing her for not moving very fast... then I felt bad. But from the time we saw the turtle initially to when it returned to the sea was roughly an hour and 30 minutes. We then raced back to the hatchery where a nest was dug, and the eggs were put inside. Then we went back to the cabins an hour earlier than we were supposed to, to shower and sleep- shhh, don´t tell.
And the Not-So-Good...
From the way I´ve described it above, it might sound like exciting things happened all the time, and every time you worked was fun and amazing. Not true. While overall I greatly enjoyed volunteering with the turtle, I did have four main complaints I can pinpoint about my personal experience with this project: the bugs, the schedule, lack of sleep, and the food. {Future volunteers, take note.}
-Bugs: WOW was I attacked by bugs. Not only mosquitoes (which I knew were going to be bad), but the sand flies as well, seemed intensely attracted to me. I feel like I was one of the worst off, in terms of the severity and sheer amount of my bug bites. They itched so bad- especially at night. And everyone had to comment on how bit up I was....
-Schedule: The way the project was set up (and its isolated location) meant that during the day you were pretty much left to your own devices- which was really nice once the next wave of volunteers showed up, because it left lots of time to talk and hang out. But then at night you were either on 4 or 6 hours of hatchery, or 4 (really 5) hours of night patrol. And that schedule just got really old about 1 1/2 weeks in. You couldn´t really get away and do anything, so it just felt like the same thing day in and day out (which it was). In that sense I was more than ready for a change in scenery.
-Lack of sleep: okay, so it´s not like I was extremely sleep deprived or anything. And you could certainly make up for a shitty night´s sleep by dozing in a hammock during the day. But I guess I got sick of more the lack of uninterrupted sleep. Because, while I´d end up getting between 7 and 9 hours each night, I´d have to go to bed at 7pm, wake up at 9:30pm to go to the hatchery for 4 hours, and then get back in bed around 2:30am, for example. It was just a really screwy schedule. Haha, and now I´m so used to it that I´m exhausted by 8pm, but then wake up at 6am feeling completely rested, since I was able to just sleep through the whole night. I really need to fix that....
-Food: so unfortunately Costa Rica is not know for its food. Coffee, yes {and that reputation is definitely deserved- I didn´t drink coffee until I got here, and now it´s a daily necessity}. And it wasn´t that the food at the project tasted bad or anything; the cook was decent. I (and everyone else who´d been there for more than three days) was simply sick of the lack of fresh fruits and vegetables, the insane amount of carbs, and the lack of variety. Honestly, we ate the same thing for breakfast every day- gallo pinto (rice and beans), a pancake or two, and a small side of scrambled eggs. Lunch was the only time rice didn´t show up on the plate (usually then it was either pasta or fried dough with corn in it <-- blech), and dinner was generally rice, some sort of meat, and maybe a canned vegetable. While the flavors were fine, they were also really bland, so I became best friends with the hot sauce there {it actually ran out the day I left, so perfect timing, right?}. Oh, and we only saw food at those three meals, so if you got hungry in between, sucked for you. Or you could beg a local to cut you down a coconut for a snack ;) But man am I loving my new found access to fruits and veggies.
The End (!)
Haha, so if you´ve actually made it through that extremely long post, congratulations! You now know the details of my (almost) three weeks as a turtle savior in a {not-so-concise} nutshell.
But I had to get it all out before I can start talking about my life now.
Gotta stay chronological.
xoxo, Cleome
Monday, July 23, 2012
How I've Been Preparing (Part 1)
Though I don't leave for a while (through less than two months now!), I've already begun my preparations for venturing to Costa Rica. Such measures include:
-Acquiring a baseburn tan.
-Not screaming at every bug I see. I've heard what we've got here are mini compared to what I'll find in Costa Rica.
-Reading books about traveling.
-Sleeping on a sheet-less mattress (admittedly due to laziness). <-- really annoys my mom, but I say it'll make sleeping in hostels seem like sleeping at home...
-Drowning all my food in hot sauce. The best one by far is Cholula, by the way.
-Napping to test out which sleeping bag to bring.
-Practicing Spanish with any and everyone I come across. Or at least attempting to.
-Listening to So Good by B.o.b. He says "Senorita," so I consider it helpful for my language skills.
Now you know a little Spanish, too.
xoxo, Cleome
-Acquiring a base
-Not screaming at every bug I see. I've heard what we've got here are mini compared to what I'll find in Costa Rica.
-Reading books about traveling.
-Sleeping on a sheet-less mattress (admittedly due to laziness). <-- really annoys my mom, but I say it'll make sleeping in hostels seem like sleeping at home...
-Drowning all my food in hot sauce. The best one by far is Cholula, by the way.
-Napping to test out which sleeping bag to bring.
 |
| I actually fell asleep. Life gets exhausting. |
-Listening to So Good by B.o.b. He says "Senorita," so I consider it helpful for my language skills.
Now you know a little Spanish, too.
xoxo, Cleome
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