Costa Rica

Our morning wake up call.

We came home the other night to crickets, frogs and ocean waves under a starry, warm night. As we settled down for a nice cold beer, a 4.7 earthquake double whammed us just to let us know, we are home.

Costa Rica was a lot of fun. We hung out in Alajuela or a couple of days and had baptism by fire. Costa Rican's don’t put numbers on their homes or business, and they don’t name streets. Oh, there are names and numbers on maps, bless them, but it isn’t public, so to speak. Directions were ALWAYS “go down two blocks past the soccer field, turn left at the Rollo Pollo and stop across from the Chinese Restaurant and you are there". Aaagh! But we did find our way to the casino down the street from where we stayed. You have no idea what country you are in when in a casino. We heard every language. Disco. Hamburgers and Buffalo wings, and cheap mojitos, and more disco. It was weird though, weird vibes. But this is a country with legalized prostitution (and on the Jaco side, it is slightly less than obvious), so who is to judge what is weird, I suppose.

The Caribbean side is far different (with one exception to the whole country, Puerto Limon, which appears to have earned it’s arm pit of Central America reputation, it’s pretty bad there, but it is a major Central American port, soooo). It’s a long very political/racist/United Fruit type story, how this Costa Rica came to be. But really, there are two countries in one, and listening to feedback from people who live there, I don’t think they’d care to change that too much. But everyone must go to the Caribbean for what might have been, because it is slated soon to start being developed. All the more to go while you can.

Anyway, we headed out to Jaco side of the country on that first Friday after hitting the only “non Ron and Helen event”, the Butterfly farm. Seemingly thousands of colorful, other worldly, butterflies flew around us, and as we were the only two on the 3 PM tour it was awesome. Our tour guide graduated in Tourism, (what else, even in Costa Rica), and loved her job. We are now experts on the life of a butterfly. Who knew they live up to a year or more. Well that Monarch thing should have tipped me off.




We went through coffee plantations, much different from our coffee plants; it is harvest right now there. We hung out at the Ramada time share for a couple of days crusin’ the “town” supermarkets, because they get a lot of US food items that we hadn’t seen in a long time. Helen and Ron asked what we had seen when they showed up on Sunday, and we laughed and described all local food markets in depth. Obviously we have no life, but we saw other stuff too, including the beach. We found a store that was like going to Nob Hill in the city. I swear to G**. They had Butterball turkeys, Ocean Spray Fresh Cranberries, Thai Kitchen, and Snickers. This will give you a clue as to who hangs in Costa Rica for the “season”, due to start end of December. And they aren't poor. We sunk to the lowest level, of course, and scored some brats (Johnsonville!!!). It’s genetic. Retirement does affect brain cells.

Ron and Helen showed up just in time, Larry had already lined up a guide tour for Monday. We were going, no matter what. It was so great to see Ron and Helen, helping them celebrate Ron’s 65th birthday. They had just come off their week building a Habit for Humanity home in Grano de Oro, Cartago. They will write their own accounts of that experience, but the stories they told us were moving, funny, and hopeful. They obviously get so much more out of it than they think they give. But the best thing was just to travel the same road for while, and it was so much fun. We had some great laughs, and adventures!



to be cont.

Ramona, Beezus and Keith Richards

It is probably sacrilegious to mention Ramona, Beezus and Keith Richards in the same sentence, but these are the books that are taking up a bit of my time this week. Keith Richard’s Life is addicting, just like his heroin habit. Can’t put it down, except when my student and I read Beezus and Ramona, the first of a still funny series of books, even after having read them countless times when I taught elementary school. That Ramona. And in a lot of ways she is at some levels an early Keith Richards (whose antics and insights will make you laugh as well as shake your head and make you wonder how he survived). Humor.

Actually, Life is the first “rock and roll” - type book I have ever read. It is a fascinating look at the cultural history of the 60’s through to the 2000’s. The Stones, for a lot of us, was the sound track of our youth. The first time I saw the Stones in ’65... as an impressionable 18 year old, my friends and I drove down to San Jose Civic Auditorium, from Berkeley, to see Mick and Keith and the rest of them blow through and stun our sensibilities. Richards talks a lot of music in his book as well, making me wish I had paid more attention during my “I want to be a folk singer with my cheap-ass guitar phase” around this time. Especially the chords and riff stuff. It is heartening to read how much respect Richards had for other, musicians, including Ry Cooder (a favorite, and Gram Parsons) and how much they taught him.

Beezus and Ramona, by Beverly Cleary, takes me way, way back to a kinder, gentler, time in the United States. For kids here, they can readily identify with a Ramona and Beezus of 50+ years ago, as they see themselves in these books. It is very strange to be reading this book with my student. I am home-schooling a 5th grader this year, and we had just finished Sign of the Beaver, and she wanted to read a “fun” book before we go on to tackle Sing Down the Moon, and Number the Stars. Can’t wait to read The Giver again though. One of my former students is teaching in China this year, and commented on how does anyone teach the same lesson 15 times and not go nuts. I had to laugh, because in actuality it is 15 different experiences. But I am sympathetic. I had a student once, Dillon, who came to me in the 4th grade, and begged me not to read anymore dead dog books. I’ve kept that promise. And there are books I do not ever want to teach much less read again, including Lord of the Flies ; after the first two or three times I taught that book, I still can’t stand it! That Beezus and Ramona still strikes the fancy of a 10 year old girl is endearing. Ramona would definitely grow up and be a Stones’ fan, I’m sure.

I am having fun though. I have said before once a teacher, always a teacher, even when you retire. This time though, it is a load of fun. And one to one ratio definitely tilts the odds in my direction...classroom management is a breeze. In the case of our English class, though, we let it rip, and have a blast every week. Maybe they would like a dose of Beezus and Ramona, although Miguel, our musician student, would be more likely to enjoy Keith Richard’s Life, I’m thinking.

We are off to Costa Rica next week, need a vacation from retirement. Is that even possible? Later.

Musings

View from living room...yesterday

It’s been a busy week here. Had dinner down at beach last night, Bocana, a favorite spot. This is where the Copalita River empties into the Pacific. It’s a beach that changes by the hour it seems, but it is one of the more popular surfing beaches, and the waves were awesome yesterday. In the past, this beach was also famous for it’s mud-baths, as at the river edge a lovely mud is deposited. Literally bus loads of people would go down to the beach for the mud, then jump into the river to clean it off, or head to the ocean and take a swim to wash it away. The Copalita River has been handling a large volume of water lately, though, and the mud-baths have gone to the wayside for a while. The river is also a great white-water rafting spot, especially now. Bocana is in the throes of development, and it isn’t the lovely, quiet, charming little hamlet these days. I suppose we have to take the “progress” with the good. Great little restaurant down there though. Lucy, the owner, makes the most delicious traditional food. Sat back with locals and new friends, and talked and sucked up seemingly a lot of beer, watching the waves in the moonlight, stars blinking, and children playing in the street long after they should be in bed. It was one of those nights.

I’m glad to have a computer again. Our friend Pam kindly risked a bit of trouble to bring it in. Mexico only allows one computer in per person. She travels with hers, and slipped my new Mac into her carry-on with hers. No one batted an eye in customs. You just never know what goes by customs and what doesn’t. We asked our niece to bring some veggie and herb seeds down when she and her husband come, and I told them to scatter the packages between the suitcases and carry-ons just in case. We are always plotting it seems. Mexico frowns on seeds of any sort coming in from another country. A friend of ours lost peppercorns recently, because even though it is an herb, it’s a seed. Aagh.

We keep up with movies with the computer. Thank Steve Jobs for Itunes I suppose. We just watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and loved the film version. I knew the next one was coming, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and hated to think we’d be off to Costa Rica, before we could see it. The books were wonderful by the way, if you haven’t caught up to the frenzy, read them.

We are heading out to Costa Rica in a couple of weeks. The eco-tourist capital of Latin America, Larry wanted to take a look at how Costa Rica handles it’s rich environment compared to Mexico. Southern Mexico is awfully close to what Central America is like, but they do have animal life not found here. We get Tejons (which are large, about the size of a small goat, alien-like creatures with the tail of a monkey, which our little beach is named after), and the usual big cats, including jaguars, but not those beautiful Macaws or the monkeys. Chiapas, just a few miles south of us, benefits more from it’s logistics to Central America, and has more of a variety of birds and monkeys. Hard to believe, but we shall see. Larry’s brother Ron, and his truly significant other, Helen, are working on a Habitat for Humanity project outside of San Jose.

Snowbirds are starting to trickle in, and Fonatur (the local government agency that guides our lives here) is busily repairing streets, and shoring up landslides. Must be the dry season. Changes are even happening on our favorite street in town. Our friend Ulysses has opened up a bar/antijito place across the street from Mama Mia!, our local Italian hang-out, and a delightful breakfast-lunch place that used to be in Santa Cruz, has moved next door to Ulysses. Max, the owner of the breakfast place, makes cinnamon rolls like no other, and serves them with a espresso that reminds me of Italy. Hemingway's Cafe is on the corner, and you can find great music, food and drinks, in mellow surroundings for a laid back evening. We teach English on this street, and on the days we are down there, it takes us forever to get back home. The people, food and drink are vastly superior on this particular street. It even has the best little comida corrida place we have ever eaten at.

And so it goes. Weather has been a steady 85ish, and the nights still incredible. I am up walking more, and am now using just the walking canes. Finally. I thought I would never get off crutches or the wheelchair. Just in time. We are looking forward to the Day of the Dead here, such a lovely, moving experience. Wish you all could be here at this time, it is magical.....

Birds, autumn in Mexico, and street food

The parrots are in full force here this week in the neighborhood. They hang out for a while and then move on to better places to eat, but when they are here, they let us know it. They are loud and chatty and fun to watch. In June and July, there was a flock of about 20, now with the babies and new recruits I'd say there were about 100. They take over entire trees and talk, talk, talk. They talk while they are flying, they talk while they are resting. Loud. I told Larry it feels like we live in an aviary sometimes, between the parrots and the chatty cockatiel behind us. This morning we woke to the cocatiel imitating, we think, a long lost dog friend. The bark sounds like one of those little dogs that bark all the time. Guests always ask where's the dog, we laugh. Then it moves on to a crying baby, whistles a little tune that is a fragment of some sailor-type song, and then on to imitating all the other birds around here, and especially the parrots. The cockatiel loves when the birds come.....

It is already turning orange and brown, but the flowers are blooming. Two weeks without rain and Mexico moves into instant autumn, or I should say summer. Really only two seasons here. Leaves are already starting to drop. But the flowers are blooming like crazy, and the colors are brilliant!

But the weather is still perfect. Had friends for dinner last night. We sat out on the patio watching the sunset, listening to the birds (parrots) quieting down, and the frog/cricket population picking it up a notch. Miss Maggy (our guest cat) snagged a bat, and chased down a toad..our usual evenings. Change of weather funny enough lead to a conversation about food. Street food to be specific, as our guests being from the Isthmus, filled us in on the how some of our favorites are made.

One of the truly great treats on the street are the coconut tortillas. They are amazing. Crunchy, slightly sweet, coconut flavor, so good with coffee. Claudio explained that they are cooked underground, like in a tandoori oven for those of you who know Indian food. They slap the tortillas on the wall of a ceramic oven, in the ground, and are cooked until crisp and slightly browned. Naturally as we were talking about them, we had to have one, even after a grilled steak dinner, with pear tart for dessert, out came the tortillas...that good. Then we switched to moletes.....

Moletes here are amazing. They are prepared by mashing plantains, cooking them, forming them into a sort of meatball shape, and stuffed either with a salty cheese (our favorite) or meat/salsa, then deep fried. We buy them off the women on the streets, still hot, and oh so delicious. Claudio's wife, Adriana, is an excellent cook, and has promised to lead me to the proper method of cooking them perfectly. But that first bite, slightly sweet, slightly salty, is unbelievable.

And speaking of seasons, it is elote (corn) season now. For fans of corn on a stick, dipped in mayonnaise, sprinkled with local cheese, and chile, it is heaven. I held out for two years on this street food before I would eat it. The mayonnaise ingredient had me worried. But last Day of the Dead, up at the pantheon, a vendor was selling them, and I gave in, had to try it, illness be damned. Oh my G!!! It is soooo good. Larry still refuses to go there. He waited for me to get sick after I ate it, and nothing happened. Everybody eats them though. Whole streets of people walking around with corn on a stick, glee in their faces.

We sometimes buy our cheese on the street here as well. The local Oaxacan cheese is a bit like mozzarella cheese, sold in a big ball, and pulls apart like string cheese. Mild, slightly salty, it is so good in quesadillas and tlayudas (another street food treat, a large tortilla, piled with beans, cheese, and other things depending on the vendor). Friends here are doing cooking/food classes for the tourists who come on the cruise ships, and one of their classes is local cheeses paired with local mezcals. Now there's a class. Pairing cheese and mezcal. Sounds vaguely familiar, doesn’t it (for those of you in wine country). Mezcal is a story unto itself, and we have tasted a lot... When Will and Dan were here at beginning of summer, we did a bit of tasting and found another mezcal called Tobola...still made from maguey (different from Tequila and usual mezcal cactus, but a maguey), that now has turned into a favorite. Everyone has a favorite mezcal though, and like wineries, there are 100's of versions (as I have written before, the mezcal road to Oaxaca is full of “tasting” rooms).

At any rate, we have come to appreciate the street food a lot more than restaurant food here. I don't think there is a bad cook to be found in Oaxaca, from tasting various vendor's food and accepting any invitation for dinner from a local. When we say this, locals laugh, and agree. Then they will tell us of another vendor who does tacos like you have never tasted.... and we are off to another foody moment....

The jungle has taken over!

It has been so beautiful here this week, I hate to even mention it. The mornings have been cool, in the low 70s, and the afternoons have been in the mid 80's, and the nights breathtaking. This is January weather in October. We have been sitting out watching the sunsets (spectacular), counting the stars and smelling the sweetness of evening scented flowers, and watching fireflies filling the trees as if it was Christmas Eve, with sparkling displays of flashing lights. We have begun to dry out, and the local wildlife is coming out of the jungle shaking off wings, basking in the sunny afternoon warmth, and coming around to see what we might have to eat. A new iquana has moved in with us, a lovely large, dark green female. She has been sunning on our solar panels (for the waterfall in the pool), and generally hanging around the kitchen, keeping an eye on us.

We have a guest cat staying with us (Miss Maggie), who can't seem to get enough of all the wild life she can chase. Centa (who is not even acknowledging Miss Maggie), has been chasing a few frogs and lizards herself. Can't keep an eye on them all the time, but I swear they both seem to be always eating something these days. The dark side of cats I suppose.


Larry ready for the dead.
You know it is October here, not just by the change of weather, but I see the days leading up to the Day of the Dead already starting (the special bread has come into the markets). For Oaxaca, Day of the Dead (actually 2 days), is a big deal. I have written about Day of the Dead before, this being a major holiday in the lives of Mexicans, similar to Halloween, but far more spiritual and beautiful here. There is anticipation in the air. Everyone goes to the pantheons/cemetaries, bringing gigantic boquets of marigold flowers, and food, to share with the ancestors. It is two days of food, music, prayer, all on top of the graves in the cemetary. In the evenings most of the graves are lighted by candles, that lends an otherwordliness to the cemetary. The city of Oaxaca is jammed with people during this time, as no one seems to do it better than the Oaxaqueños.

We are now also seeing the gearing up for "the season". The cruise ships have already started to come in, and a few early snowbirds have been sneaking down as well. In another month we will once again turn into a tourist destination, as the hotels and restaurants are in the throes of improvements, revamping, and just plain getting ready. For our snowbird friends, well we can't wait to see you too!

We'll be heading to Costa Rica next month to hook up with Ron and Helen (in laws and outlaws), for a couple of weeks, ending up back in Oaxaca City for a few days with friends. We are flying in and out of Oaxaca right now, as the airline thing (Mexicana went bust, Continental/United, or whatever it will call itself, isn't coming in here until Dec we hear), and it costs a bloody fortune to fly out of here to Mexico City right now. Like we're suffering.

Good time to come if anyone wants to see a beautiful place, without tourists though. The beaches are empty, the water looks good, lots of surfers are coming in we hear. The flowers are blooming; the blue morning glories have taken over everything in sight, lovely.

Ode to our Cactus

The beloved cactus The dying section

We have just gone through some intense rainy weeks here in Huatulco, giving new meaning to tropical storms. Today the sun is out though, and we are starting to dry out, and the jungle surrounding us has never seemed so lush. Which brings me to a rather narrow topic on this blog...our cactus. In Mexico, there is an anomaly, cactus seem to grow in the heart of a tropical rain forest, and do just fine. We live in what is called a dry tropical forest, because we only get rain during the summer months, and nary a drop the rest of the year. In way, a lot like California, a green season, then a brown season. But hot. The cactus, in front of our house, is about 150 years old, and has thrived until this rainy season.

Our cactus is a landmark in the neighborhood. It stands right in front of our house, and is easily 16+ meters (around 40 ft) tall. It is a work of art, and the home to countless birds, lizards, and other critters throughout the year. This week, our whistling ducks pair had their second family of the season in our cactus. Twelve little fluffy, black and yellowish stripped chicks, that look nothing like their elegant, lovely parents, were unceremoniously dropped out of the nest by mama duck, a 10-15 ft drop. They land on their little bellies (like one of those egg drop experiments all schools seem to demand of their students) and waddled off behind the father. When mama gets them all out, they march off to the jungle, in a line that always reminds me of that "Make Way for Ducklings" story.



Showing off the babies



The last one out



Moving next door (to the jungle)


Hector, our iguana, lived in the cactus until recently, when I think his size began to inhibit the long climb up to a nice branch to sun on. He has since moved across the street to a bigger jungle. We do have a couple of smaller females living in the cactus right now, and we see them when the sun is out.


Hector on a sunny day

Our cactus had a lovely fruit season this year, bearing so many "pears" we were astounded at the number, as well as the variety of birds they attracted. Oaxaca, for bird watchers, is like the mother lode of bird counts/sightings. You could have done a week's bird watching from our patio, and exceeded your expectations. The cardinals and orioles came first. Loud, flashy colors, messy eaters. They were followed by the various woodpeckers and parrots one might see in a remote jungle setting. The wood ducks (whistling ducks) have been coming for a couple of years, always a pair, but this year was the first time we saw ducklings. In June, there were nine of them, and with these 12, the parents seemed much more together and organized than the first time out.... anyway....

As soon as the fruit filled the cactus, we noticed a sudden change on the right side of the cactus, it started to turn black. The wood peckers were eating more of their meals on this dark side, and as the rain started to really come on, the cactus started to peal away and drop its skin, and arms, what have you. Just the right side. We freaked. We had gone to great lengths to save this cactus, and had pointedly built our house around the cactus. Most people thought we were nuts, but it was so old, beautiful, and full of life, we couldn't cut it down. Now (we dread) we are loosing it, because we have never lived with a 150 year-old cactus before, we don't know what is happening, but surely not death.

We've been watching and studying the cactus for any signs of positive change, feeling very pessimistic. There was lots of evidence that this cactus has shed parts of itself in past years. Large scars, looking like redwood burls, are in various locations on the cactus. But today, we noticed little knobs coming out. Little green knobs. Do we dare to hope....of course we do. This cactus cannot die over a bad rainy season, it must have had dozens of other years of bad rains. We see hope in those little buds, that it will continue on, providing homes for the wildlife, food for them, and a place for the whistling ducks to return to every season to build their nest for the next crop of ducklings.

The last of California for a while....

Larry is part of the Woelfel clan. It is an amazing family, parents Linus and Rosemary, 89 this year, eight other brothers and sisters, and some of their families, brothers, sisters, cousins galore came to California for Jon and Kerri's wedding. Linus and Rosemary created a family that is most enviable. They should be very proud of how all their children turned out. Everyone of them have amazing, interesting, rich lives, that they bring together, with all their vast differences and experiences and lifestyles (in these uncertain, changing lifetimes), and a family is reborn.

They would so fit into Mexico. Family in Mexico is everything. Nothing gets in the way of family. We know a few large families here, who struggled, succeeded, survived, and they have these same family moments. They all show up for weddings, anniversaries, holidays, birthdays, just for fun days, and party down, just like the Woelfels. Larry's brothers and sisters are as diverse as you can get, and still have a good time at a party. They all bring their rich and interesting lives into ours briefly, and it is amazingly reassuring that you know you are loved by so many people. For us "out-laws", our self-dubbed support group, being in the middle of it can be overwhelming. The love is the glue though. Lots of love.

After almost 20 years, I am just as amazed as the first time. This world doesn't have enough truly good people, but I can say this about Larry's family. They are genuinely good people. And they get down. You have to train to party with them. Either they are slowing down or I am finally catching up to them, but it takes a lot of energy to keep up. They loved the wine country, the brew pubs, the camaraderie of daily changing configurations, (so you can catch up, cause it's harder when you travel in packs of 20), and of course being together. It was fun.

What's Mexican about Californians...

Our go-to friends Karen and Ed, cheerfully picked us up at Carol and Doug's, and chauffeured us to Santa Rosa. We shamelessly take advantage of them, because we never get enough time with them...they drive us so we can have intense catch-up time, and they give us such comfort, thank God for them! (PS why did we not take pictures of you guys)

Susan and Howard (friends from Santa Rosa) arranged a house for us behind theirs. This was a gift from the heavens. We profusely thank Howard and Susan for this house. We gave them Jon and Kerri when we moved to Mexico, as we couldn't loose them in our life.

Teresita, my dear friend/sister, from 16+ years ago, came into my life when she was a teacher with me (before someone unwisely let her go), arrived with her family, Will (husband), and four boys including Andre, Dante (God child), Julian, & Trevian. Because I am a co-madre with Teresita, it is a whole other level of relationship. Teresita teaches in Chico now. She and her family accompanied us to our home in Mexico (and that's a road trip to tell about), in a memorable experience for all of us. We have had truly bonding experiences, gorilla glue experiences. Her family cheerfully shared time with our friends Javier and Julia and their boys Diego and Mateo, because we all just wanted to be together. Not many of us have these friends. I miss them all a bunch, and still am the biggest baby when I have to say goodbye.

We had a chance to see other friends, briefly, and said we would be back...or get your asses down to Mexico, it's not that hard, and "livin' is easy". We said good-byes, and Karen and Ed came and got us and we went back to Oakland. I had an attack of vertigo, and wanted to delay out by a couple of days, and really hang with Karen and Ed more, because we didn't have enough time with them. Mexicana goes bankrupt. No extra days, we had to go out the following night, or chance being cancelled... We all agreed to meet up in Mexico City next year. We find ways.

So when you go home, it is about the family and friends, a characteristic shared by Mexicans. Often during this time it didn't occur to me whether I was in Mexico or the United States (although the cold was a big clue), I felt comfortable in both places, it's not so different as you would think.