| Living
in Costa Rica |
| Exploring
The Beaches of Costa Rica |
| By Vanessa Morson |
| Connecting
through four countries, with four planes, an SAS air strike, a night
in a ghost-town airport, two solid days of travel and only two hours sleep,
Phil and I finally arrived in Costa Rica. What will happen in the
days to come no one would have ever guessed, not even us. Our plan:
Get there, rent a 4X4, drive to Jaco (a Pacific Coast surfer town pronounced:
Haco) find a nice hotel, catch up on sleep, and in a few days start
sightseeing and in a few weeks start looking for jobs, and a place to live.
Sounds like a reasonable enough plan, especially since we have been travelling
and unemployed for the last three months.
What actually
happened: Well, we did rent the 4X4, and yes we did drive to the
coastal town of Jaco and after that…well you’ll just have to read this
to understand. |
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| Renting the
car was easy, despite the fact that neither Phil nor myself speak a lick
of Spanish. Navigating through San Jose we finally made it out onto
the one lane highway that will take us all the way to our final destination.
The backdrop: a very green, lush country with earthquake induced rolling
hills and full hovering clouds ready to burst at any moment. The road is
well paved, yet winds with dips and curves that roller coasters are modelled
after. We are tired and yet so excited to be here while not knowing
what our future life here will bring.
There is
one road in and one road out, so getting lost was not an option, but staying
on the windy road was a bit of a nail biting experience. As we
neared Jaco, our fatigue was transcended by pure glee. With the Lonely
Planet Costa Rica in one hand, the map in the other we made our way through
town. Before I finished reading one sentence in our book, we had
gone from one end of the village to the other. That was it. We unpacked,
showered, and decided to take a little snooze before dinner. We woke up
the next morning at 5 having completely slept through our alarms set for
the night before. The sun was up, as were the screeching roosters.
Phil and I dressed to go for an exploratory and romantic walk along the
beach. |
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| Low clouds
pressed against the rain forest and the 8-foot waves were decorated with
devoted surfers.
We stood hand
in hand in complete awe of this country we had decided to make home. We
walked for about a mile discussing our plan of attack with great excitement.
We’re going to do this and this and then we’ll try this and then that!!
And then our neglected appetites from the previous night interrupted our
rather pleasant conversation.
Little problem:
no money, banks closed. Aha, thank god the US dollar as well as the
English language is more widely accepted than American Express. We
ordered a fruit plate to share and a typical Costa Rican breakfast consisting
of scrambled eggs along with Gallo Pinto (black beans and rice)
fresh orange and papaya juice and two cups of tea. |
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Offshore Resources Gallery
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| The fruit
was so pure, like it was picked out of the backyard with no residue of
pesticides. Eating the typical rice and bean breakfast made us feel
like for a moment we were locals.
I still have
dreams about the papaya juice and know it will become a staple in my diet.
Truly the best breakfast I have ever had, but also realizing if I ate that
every day I would need two seats on the plane ride home. The town started
to stir. Stores started to open their doors revealing their assortment
of surf goods, hammocks, fruit, and of course the touristy tours.
We tried to take in everything but knew even as small as the town is, there
are so many layers that it would take us weeks/months to understand.
Here, we are in no hurry, the pace is as we decide.
Six days after
arriving, we moved into our new home. It is beautifully situated
on the Pacific, with a pool, vaulted ceilings, cable TV, hot water, security
guard, gardener, maid service, air conditioning, and everything you could
possibly want. We have a balcony that is screaming for a hammock!
Tomorrow we are going to sign up for Spanish classes, look more seriously
for bicycles and maybe take a deep breath and digest all that has happened. |
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| There are
three kinds of roads in this country: one-lane paved highways, one lane
unpaved highways, and anything that remotely looks like a car could traverse.
Luckily, most of the country is accessible by the first, and preferred
choice, but some less touristy areas are only accessible by 4-wheel drive
and guts of steel.
Friday afternoon
we head towards the famous Arenal volcano, which is still very active.
Much to our dismay, the peak was playing hide and seek behind thick rain
forest clouds the entire time. We were able to hike straight up the
side of a cliff (or so it seemed), to see where the lava flows.
Satisfied in at least seeing that, we still promised ourselves to return
later in the season when a possible sighting would be more likely.
In the gift shop, postcards teased us with what it is supposed to look
like, so we bought them as proof. |
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Offshore
Resources Gallery
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| Next stop,
Playa Tamarindo. When we did our research on Costa Rica, our two
top picks were Tamarindo and Jaco. Having already settled in Jaco,
our curiosity was restless with the idea of whether or not we had rushed
into anything. Honestly, our only reason for going to Jaco first
was because it was closer to the airport. Upon arrival to Tamarindo Phil
and I exchanged confident glances that we had in fact settled in the better
of the two. Tamarindo was dirty, plagued with beggars, and had “Americana”
splattered all over it. There was a very definite vibe of the gringo
is there to live and the Ticos (Costa Ricans) are there to serve.
We didn’t like it as much as Jaco, though it did have beautiful beaches.
If you ever come to Costa Rica, please don’t take my word for it, go explore
everything you want to see and make your own decisions. After all,
this is just my opinion!
After spending
one night in Tamarindo, we decided to head south to another popular coastal
town. Though the name evokes pain, we heard Montezuma was quite beautiful.
This teeny tiny beach town lies on the tip of the southern peninsula and
is only accessible by roads that look like dried out riverbeds.
Though primitive and simple, this town has three Internet cafes, and seems
to serve as a haven for surfer hippies who never moved beyond the 70’s.
Jaco is a very
small town and everyone seems to know everyone else. One has to be
very careful with every move you make, because word is sure to get out.
Despite that, we are slowly but surely forming a great group of friends.
Costa Ricans are by far some of the most friendly people I have ever come
across, however they are not too punctual, but that’s okay, because after
a while at living at their pace, you won’t be too punctual either.
Foreigners
include French, Italian, Israeli, Canadian, Swiss and of course the ever
popular American. “Little United Nations”, I like to call
Jaco. Everyone is there for various reasons: retirement, escaping
debt, wanting a different life, you name it. There are many opportunities
to be had here if you have the capital and the patience. Things progress
at a rate unfamiliar to most, but the lifestyle achieved maybe well worth
the wait. Property can be cheap or expensive depending if you want
basic or palatial. It is all available here.
What I have
come to learn in these last few months is that it is very important not
to be American while travelling. I mean that in the most respectful
way. It is okay, whilst in the US to expect your double decaf latte
in less than two minutes; it is okay to expect everyone to speak English.
Here, though there are so many Americans, it is not okay to expect the
same standards and/or be pissed when it is different.
I have seen so many foreigners come here, and claim this is a lousy place
because it is not like America. If they wanted America they should
have gone to America, if you want typical Central America, then this is
the place for you. I find myself cringing at the sight of loud obnoxious
Americans who think this is there local strip mall. My opinion comes
out self-awareness. I have found myself somewhat frustrated when
locals show up 30 minutes late and think nothing of it. I have
found myself comparing and at the end of the day it is wrong. I know
what my standards are, but I also know I am not in a place where it is
so easy to meet my standards. But that is the joy of being here!!!
The joy comes when you realize that all those things you thought you would
die without are not really necessary. I love the fact that life can
be as simple as a bicycle with a basket in front for groceries! It
gets me back in touch with what my goal in life is: happiness.
And then there
is the “high-season” that everyone kept talking about. How
bad could it get really, I mean this town can hold only so many people
right? Wrong. I like to sum it up that the Puerto Rican Day
Parade invaded Daytona Beach during Spring Break. Never in my wildest
dreams could I have imagined traffic jams with hundreds of neon-colored
pick-up trucks, each sporting their own bazooka speaker blaring the latest
Latino-blood-thumping rhythm at decibels too high for human consumption.
Or the sight of fat hairy men and women, more slick than an oil spill,
wearing nothing more than bathing suits which are two sizes too small,
cruising up and down the supermarket aisles looking for fresh melons.
AAAAHHHHH! This latest invasion has caused to me to hide in my house
on weekends and only dare exit when absolutely necessary. And again,
I have redefined what is necessary. I have been soothed a bit by
the thought that the madness will die down after the new year, but still
frighten easily at the idea of this continuing for at least two more months.
After nine
months of living here, our time has sadly and quickly come to an end.
It is time for us to find our next spot, but Jaco and Costa Rica will always
have a page reserved in our passports. |
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