Give Thanks Where Thanks Is Deserved

On a local news show a few nights ago, they spotlighted (among other very important stories **ahem**) the 2012 Hooters Costa Rica Bikini Contest.  

As the lucky lady pranced down the runway, jiggling in all the right places, she looked up to the heavens and made the mark of the cross (like a good Catholic girl) across her inflated chest.

Classic.

Shake, Rattle and Roll!!!

Coming from Southern California, I'd say that I've experienced my fair share of Mother Nature realigning her tectonic plates from time to time.  From a small kid on, you're taught that when the ground gets ta' shaking, get under a doorway or preferably under a large sturdy table until the shaking subsides. Growing up, there were always rumblers here and there that were unnerving - but for the most part it was just part of life living where I lived.  Usually the ground would lightly tremble, you'd stop, take note (waiting to see if it's just a little one or it's going to get stronger) and then went about your business.

However, when Ms. Mother Nature decided to shift things around this past Wednesday (Sept. 5) at 8:42 a.m., I was totally caught off guard.  Standing in my kitchen cooking breakfast, it took a few milliseconds for it to register what exactly was happening.  I guess my earthquake sensors are a bit out of practice and I didn't register "earthquake" nearly as quickly as I would have living in LA.

I had just returned from a hike when I felt what I interpreted to be dizziness, but then realized that there was a rumbling noise all around me.  Suddenly the mental hiccup passed and it registered "EARTHQUAKE!!!!!" and I went into auto mode of looking for a a sturdy table (uhhhh...don't own one) or doorway....(uhhhhh.....questionable Costa Rican construction) to seek shelter under.

But in Costa Rica - that's not the proper game plan.  See here, there are no large sky rises showering glass down, nor high power lines, or billboards, however there is some rather shady construction at times so the outside is exxxacccctly where you want to get.  Lucky me, my knight in shining armor Costa Rican hubby responded more accurately and pulled me out of the house.

As we ran out the front door, the roof of our patio was trembling and clanking and there was this loud rumbling noise from all directions. (SCARY!!!)   As we reached the front gate the ground was absolutely rattling and it was difficult to stand up -- and still the noise.  The shaking kept getting stronger and at that point all I could do was pray "Oh God, please keep us safe!"  It really began to seem feasible that it was going to keep getting stronger.  It was surreal and I thought "could this really be happening???" But then, the shaking stopped and we looked at each other and ran to get the car keys and get to higher ground.

We live about 1/4 mile from the beach and having no idea where this large quake was epicentered - we had to get up and fast.  For all we knew it was epicentered directly in front of where we were and a wave was headed our way.  Our town is 21 feet above sea level.  Not a good place to be had this huge jolt generated any large wave action.

Luckily, we live at the base of a good size hill which is probably the best place to get to quickly in situations like these.  So off we went - quickly -- tuned the radio to the news and sat above the town overlooking the ocean.  Slowly the hilltop starting filling up with other residents of town after a tsunami alert was issued for the entire Central American Pacific coast.

As news started coming in we learned that the earthquake measured 7.6 - epicentered less than 40 miles from my home. Ah-ha.  No wonder I felt that sucker so hard.

It really was quite a shaker!!  As I recall other quakes I've experienced I'd say the only one that would really qualify as "large quake" would be the 1994 Northridge quake which measured 6.7 -- significantly smaller than what I felt with this shaker.  This was by far the largest, strongest earthquake I've ever felt and let me just say ....whoa!

Experiencing something like this in a place that is so "off the map" really does make one think about things like emergency preparedness.  Had this been something more serious, where I live (out in "the country")  help would not be coming anytime soon.  This has really impressed on me (and hopefully others) the importance of putting some thought into what it means to be prepared and to immediately get those items together.

There have been lots and lots of aftershocks in the past 3 days.  We keep getting jolted awake by shakers like this morning's aftershock which registered 5.6 -- still a good size quake. I'm hoping things mellow out soon.  My nerves are a bit rattled....literally.

Got Gas?

Gas stations.

Add this to the ever growing list of things that I've always taken for granted.  Not even taken for granted really - just never thought about.  I've always lived someplace where there is a gas station literally on every corner.  Getting gas is something you do "on the way" to wherever it is you may be going.

Here however, I live about 10 miles away from the nearest full service gas station.*  The next closest one is about another 10 miles from that one.  Most people, including us, don't make it to the actual gas station all that often because the majority of people's driving is local in and around town errands and business.  So, we keep our cars chugging along thanks to a few locals who set up their own gas vending locals.

Meet my "local" gas station.

It's not fair to even call this a gas station, because it's an old wooden shed, filled with gallons and gallons of gasoline in someone's yard.

You pull up, honk and someone from a nearby house comes out, retrieves the requested number of gallons ($6/gallon) from the shed, and dispenses.  And that's how it works.  

By the way, the spray painting on the shed reads "We don't lend gallons, we sell them".  I think that's a good policy for a gas vendor.  Don't you?

*A lil' side note about "full service" stations, they are a bit nostalgic in that there are pump attendants who pump the gas and clean your windows.  They'd probably check your oil too if you asked.

The Dog Lady

So, a little something about me (if you don't know this already) is that I am craaaaazy about dogs.  Seriously, you know those weird "cat ladies" - I could all too easily become the canine equivalent....almost.  I love 'em, love 'em, love 'em!!

My nickname among some has become "The Dog Lady" and perhaps with good reason.  I have so many dog "friends".  Some are homeless, some have owners, some are now mine!  Neighborhood dogs come by to visit me and sit on the porch with me while I drink my morning coffee.

Not only do I love dogs, THEY LOVE ME TOO!!  Dogs follow me, find me, sniiiiiifffff me out!! Lost dogs seem to show up in my presence, as if they've heard through some grapevine that I am the Doggie Messiah -- a savior for the weary and hungry.  They show up at my door.  They find their way to my shop.  Recently, one even turned up INSIDE my house!  Stories to be told.

So, my husband and I have 5 dogs.  Yup.  You read it right, 5, f-i-v-e.  Well, 4 and 1/4 if you want to be fair (4 big dogs and one that's a 1/4 of their size).  Having this many dogs on the beach in the country is a completely different experience than having that many pets in a city.  The dogs have space, the beach, freedom and lots of time with their human counterparts.

When my husband and I met, he had 2 dogs:

Onyx -- a bundle of love and tail wagging.  If I was able to rename her, her name would be "Pig Pen" after the Charlie Brown character.  She's a Black Lab and absolutely cannot stay clean for a second.   She's constantly dusty and dirty and always has some sort of gnats, flies or mosquitos caravanning behind her.  In her defense, what she lacks in cleanliness, she makes up for in unconditional love and faithfulness.  Age 10 and counting!!

Merlin, the big, the brave and the bad.  Can jump and almost do a full 180.  Loves to swim and play fetch in the ocean waves.  A sucker for any kind of petting, but a fighter.  You know those signs people put on their gates that say "Perro Bravo" or "Guard Dog" - those signs were made for him.  A mix of Lab, Dalmation and who knows what else.  Aged 5 +/-




To those two, I added my one dog, Johnny (aka the worlds bestest dog ever), who passed away two years later in December 2009.    After Johnny died, together we adopted....

Maya, the delicate, timid little princess (but growing braver every day!).   A lover of chasing the ball and sitting on the porch watching the world go by.  A 12 lb. little mixture of Mini Pincher, Wiener dog and for sure some kind of Jack Russell.  Approximately 2 years old.

Then a few months later....

Carmen, my first accidentally adopted dog.  I first met her in the summer of 2008 and thought she was a street dog.  She did have an owner though and about a year after I met her, they gave her away to another family about 15 miles away.  She was gone a few months, then ran away from them and showed up at my door.  The prior owner could not figure out how she had found her way back to town.  I'd say she chose me.  A gorgeous mix of  Ridgeback, Pitbull and who knows what else.  Approximately 3 years old.

And finally, my last dog.  (Really!  I don't want any more!)

Lola, my second accidentally adopted street dog.  The most beautiful dog ever.  A complete street mixture of a little of this and a little of that dog (locally called "saguate").  These street dogs are incredibly smart and resilient.  This lil' girl showed up about 1/2 a day from starving to death.  We tried and tried to find her a home, but it just didn't happen.  She ended up staying and a few months later was run over by an SUV.  She walked away without so much as a scar.  She's like Wonder Dog.  Approximately 1 1/2 years old.

 These are the dogs I call "mine", however I have tons of pooches in my life.  I have a whole other life that goes on between me and these dogs and me and the outside world.

Stay tuned.

Marshmallow People

I went to a small place in town known for strong, creative cocktails, a mini putting ground and playing chess.  I wanted to try what was rumored to be a super tasty fresh raspberry mojito.  So, after a long ((strettcchh)) day, we headed over there.  Yum.  

Upon arrival, the hubby was immediately sucked into a chess game and clearly was not going to be my source of stimulating conversation over cocktails.  I noticed a little boy sitting in a bar stool across the way animatedly chatting with himself.  He was busy constructing something, and being an arts-n-crafts kinda' gal, I went over to investigate.

The bar in front of him was strewn with tidbits of cut up straw, tape, ripped napkin and large, pastel colored marshmallows.  In his hand was a marshmallow stick man in a napkin skirt and straw legs and arms.  When I asked if I could make one, he quickly introduced me to the materials I'd be needing to construct my own marshmallow stick figure.  I decided his marshmallow man seemed lonely and needed a lovely marshmallow girlfriend to share lives pleasures.  Pink marshmallow in hand, I started to build.  

After it was all finished and we discussed a bit what might be missing - we decided that they both needed to look happier, and created a sliver smile for each using small tidbits of straw.

His marshmallow man must have been pleased with my marshmallow lady because his smile was bigger than hers.

He played with the marshmallow couple for a few moments, the lady fluttering in ballerina moves, singing the songs of angels.

Everything was going well until the marshmallow man's eyes started falling off and at that point the little boy decided that it was time to eat him.  Oh well.  

I was done with my drink, which, by the way was soooooooo tasty.   Such the gentleman was this little boy that he asked the bartender to please pass him the bottle of rum so he could fill up my glass and I wouldn't need to leave soon that way.  ;)

pastries/kitty litter

Door to door sales are a common thing here.  Vendors stream through all day selling everything from lollypops to wall mirrors.  Food prepared in someone's private home is a big thing, especially empanadas.  If this is a foreign concept to you (buying food on the street from a stranger?!?!), let me assure you, you get used to the idea quickly and learn who has tasty (i.e., safe) homemade goodies.

On this particular day, someone unfamiliar came around selling sweet empanandas.  I couldn't help snap this photo of her.  I'm all for recycling plastic products, but if you're going to be carrying around a bucket full of food for sale, it might be a good idea to remove the "FRESH STEP KITTY LITTER" label from the bucket, prior to filling it with your little oven baked goodies.  From a marketing perspective, I think it's a good idea to have as little connection between the morsels you sell and your furry little friend pooping and scratching it to a fresh scent.  That's just my opinion though. 

Driving to the Carribean Coast

We just got back from a week long road trip over to the other side of this small country.  We left from our Pacific Ocean, hot, humid, lovely sunset side of the country -- passing over a horrific, rainy, cloud forest winding mountain, trucking lane, highway -- to the wetter, less developed side on the coast of the Atlantic.

The ride over the mountain was pretty scary.  Call me crazy, but I tend to get a lil' nervous driving through rainy mountain passes pressed between semi trucks and crazy drivers trying to pass in near zero visibility around blind corners in the pouring rain.  In Costa Rica, this is just called "commuting"....I guess.  I took a seat in the back, and tried to keep my eyes pasted out the passenger windows at the view of the jungle and the small waterfalls cascading down the sides of rock mountains.  It was better than seeing my life flash before my eyes!!  That's for sure!

Pass on the left??  Uhh...no thank you.

Soon after getting past the scary mountain pass there is a change in the terrain.  It's lush, lush, lush, green in every direction and there are what seems like endless miles of banana farms.  It rains in this region more than any other part of the country - which is great for vegetation, but not great for your home or building that may be in an area prone to flooding.  For this reason, many of the houses are built up on stilts which gives the place a real rustic, tropical vibe.

About an hour past the the mountain, you begin to approach the port city of Limon.  Along the highway (which is only 2 lanes most of the way) there are tons of cargo containers stacked up like small container high rise communities.  There are more semis, tanker trucks, traffic and you can see the commerce that moves from the port to and from the rest of the country.

At the coast, you can either head into the port or you can hang a right and head to the more desirable areas of the coast.  Limon is worth taking a quick drive through just to see, but it's a port city just like anywhere else. Dirty, busy, and a little sketchy.

Port of Limon....from afar.

Having been through Limon before, we opted for the right turn taking us onto a gorgeous coastal highway that stretches for miles and miles to the wonderful beaches that lay ahead.

There is a noticeable change in the faces and culture of this part of Costa Rica compared to San Jose or the Pacific coast.  It's like another country.  The Atlantic side is heavily influenced by the Caribbean islands because in the late 1800's workers from Jamaica and other Caribbean islands came to Costa Rica to build the railroad and work on the emerging banana plantations.  Today, the majority of the population are of island descent.  Most speak English as a first language (like the islands), Spanish with island laden accents and you also hear a lot of Patois.

You can see the Rasta influence everywhere.  Street signs, light posts, cafes, bikes and buildings are painted in the Rasta colors -- red, yellow and green.  There are posters and sarongs bearing Bob Marley's face and you hear reggae music everywhere.

Building (a house?) in Manzanillo.

The drive from Limon down the coast is beautiful.  On one side you have the ocean where you can see the cargo and cruise ships heading into the port.


On the other side there are pueblos and small, scattered cottages among all the deep green foliage.

There's a number of abandoned structures as well, 3 walls standing, roofless, with years of plant life growing and their own private jungle home inside.  We spotted one, the toilet visible full of plants. Nice pot!

There are tons of rivers -- some large, some small that run from inland out to the ocean.

Around dusk, we finally arrived in Cahuita at the cute little house that a friend of ours was nice enough to let us borrow.  Tired from a long day in the car, but excited that we were finally there, we showered, got a quick bite to eat and settled in relatively early - hoping to wake to the sun for a day at the beach....

Stay tuned for more pix, stories, etc. from this trip....