A weekend away...
Unfortunately Heredia, the city where I live in Costa Rica, is an exception in the land of nature and beauty. Although there is a lot of access to the concentration of population and all corresponding services and resources, it is not the place that people come to Costa Rica to visit. That said, after a few weeks of not travelling anywhere out of Heredia and San Jose, I decided that I needed a change of scenery; in fact my concentration and sanity depended on it. A few friends and I decided last week that we would visit the Atlantic 'Caribbean' side of the country, to eat some good food and play in the waves. The rest of our adventure was just good luck.
On Friday morning, I went to the clinic in La Carpio as usual. I was interviewing more women there. I had the most amazing interview with a woman who was so incredibly articulate, despite the fact that she has very little education. She said waht so many others had been trying to say, but in words that could move a mountain. As I watched ehr explore a range of emotions, from joy and gratitude to sorrow and despair, I realized that this is the voice that people need to hear for there to be any compassionate change in the way we treat other human beings. Much of the population in Nicaragua is destitute, and family members move to Costa Rica to earn money to send back for the very survival of their families. When they arrive here they are treated as criminals, and discriminated against in almost every way possible. I can{t imagine how wnyone could listen to this woman's story without feeling the gravity of her prior situation and the desire to help her and her family. No one could fail to recognize her humanity and that anyone in her shoes would be compelled to become a migrant.
After this interview, Gail the founder if the Foundation, asked me if I would like to visit an indigenous village on the Caribbean side on Saturday. She had arranged to take a group that had since backed out, but the people in the village has prepared an activity for the visitors and there was no way to cancel since they lived on a mountain with no electricity or phone. She said that if a few other students and I would come with her, she would take us to the beach town we had been planning to visit afterwards, of course we agreed.
On Staurday morning, five of us got up at five and went to San Jose to meet her for our ride. By 9:30 am we were fording a river up to our waists and climbing up a mountain side among banana plants and other lush greenery. Through puddles of mud we trudged (and some of us fell) for about two miles, until we reached a clearing where two stilt houses stood, a school and a round, thatched, open air pavilion stood. Underthe pavilion the people of the village were gathered with their readymade crafts and materials for showing us how they make them. They create fabric from bark and make dolls; create twine and rope from leaves and bark and make bags and hammocks, they let us try some of the fruits that they grow; showed us how to build a fire and plant Yucca, a popular tuber in Costa Rica. We also met their curandero (medicine man) and heard some of their traditional belief stories. It was all very fascinating. During our time there, it started to pour, so our walk back down the mountain was a drenched slip and slide. By the time we got back to the river, the water level had risen, but we were still able to get across.
Our next stop was Cahuita, a little beach town where I plan to take my mom and Ray when they come. I enjoyed being next to the sea and eating great seafood, and was talked into going with the whole group into the larger town for Carnaval celebrations. We hired the bootleg cab driver from Cahuita (cabs aren't allowed in the city), a young guy named Johnny to take us into the city. Along the way we got a flat tire that poor Johnny had to change in the dark, his only light coming from the face of his cell phone. Luckily he knew what he was doing. When we got to Limon, he decided to walk around with us, since he knows the way. I was grateful to have him with us.
As for the Carnaval, the real parade is next weekend, and this whole week seems like one big 'pre-party'. The streets are teeming with people, and rows of tents have been pitched that are makeshift bars and dance clubs. It was all bad canned music and lots of drunk people. Not my favorite scene, but I have of course heard a lot about Carnaval in my life, so I suppose it was an interesting cultural experience. In the middle of the night we got another cab back to Cahuita (Johnny unfortunately left earlier, after he decided we would be okay on our own). I was glad to get back in time to wake up and enjoy the beach the next morning.
At 9:00, I was awoken by our friend Nochi at the door. He had rented a bike and offered to take me for a ride on the back road where it is less crowded. I took the chance, and thoroughly enjoyed the music of the birds. We explored around, trying to decide where to have breakfast. After we all stuffed ourselves with gallo pinto, coffee and fresh tropical juice, we hit the beach. The water was so warn, it felt like getting into a bathtub. Oh, letting the waves wash over me was just what I needed to clear my head. By the time we got back on the bus I felt like I had been away for a lot longer than two days.
Unfortunately we hadn't bought our return tckets ahead of time (note to self: never do that again, and we ended up riding in the aisle 'de pie' (on foot). At the police check point we had to get off the bus so that they could get on and check everyone's passports. I now realize why illegal immigrants are forced to cross into the country on foot, through the mountains, because on the buses the officials are looking for them. Thankfully when we reached Limon, there was another bus waiting to take the overflow on our bus and we had seats the rest of the way. I slept the remaining three hours, and then went right to sleep again when I got home. Not too much relaxation over the weekend, but a lot of needed adventure.
On Friday morning, I went to the clinic in La Carpio as usual. I was interviewing more women there. I had the most amazing interview with a woman who was so incredibly articulate, despite the fact that she has very little education. She said waht so many others had been trying to say, but in words that could move a mountain. As I watched ehr explore a range of emotions, from joy and gratitude to sorrow and despair, I realized that this is the voice that people need to hear for there to be any compassionate change in the way we treat other human beings. Much of the population in Nicaragua is destitute, and family members move to Costa Rica to earn money to send back for the very survival of their families. When they arrive here they are treated as criminals, and discriminated against in almost every way possible. I can{t imagine how wnyone could listen to this woman's story without feeling the gravity of her prior situation and the desire to help her and her family. No one could fail to recognize her humanity and that anyone in her shoes would be compelled to become a migrant.
After this interview, Gail the founder if the Foundation, asked me if I would like to visit an indigenous village on the Caribbean side on Saturday. She had arranged to take a group that had since backed out, but the people in the village has prepared an activity for the visitors and there was no way to cancel since they lived on a mountain with no electricity or phone. She said that if a few other students and I would come with her, she would take us to the beach town we had been planning to visit afterwards, of course we agreed.
On Staurday morning, five of us got up at five and went to San Jose to meet her for our ride. By 9:30 am we were fording a river up to our waists and climbing up a mountain side among banana plants and other lush greenery. Through puddles of mud we trudged (and some of us fell) for about two miles, until we reached a clearing where two stilt houses stood, a school and a round, thatched, open air pavilion stood. Underthe pavilion the people of the village were gathered with their readymade crafts and materials for showing us how they make them. They create fabric from bark and make dolls; create twine and rope from leaves and bark and make bags and hammocks, they let us try some of the fruits that they grow; showed us how to build a fire and plant Yucca, a popular tuber in Costa Rica. We also met their curandero (medicine man) and heard some of their traditional belief stories. It was all very fascinating. During our time there, it started to pour, so our walk back down the mountain was a drenched slip and slide. By the time we got back to the river, the water level had risen, but we were still able to get across.
Our next stop was Cahuita, a little beach town where I plan to take my mom and Ray when they come. I enjoyed being next to the sea and eating great seafood, and was talked into going with the whole group into the larger town for Carnaval celebrations. We hired the bootleg cab driver from Cahuita (cabs aren't allowed in the city), a young guy named Johnny to take us into the city. Along the way we got a flat tire that poor Johnny had to change in the dark, his only light coming from the face of his cell phone. Luckily he knew what he was doing. When we got to Limon, he decided to walk around with us, since he knows the way. I was grateful to have him with us.
As for the Carnaval, the real parade is next weekend, and this whole week seems like one big 'pre-party'. The streets are teeming with people, and rows of tents have been pitched that are makeshift bars and dance clubs. It was all bad canned music and lots of drunk people. Not my favorite scene, but I have of course heard a lot about Carnaval in my life, so I suppose it was an interesting cultural experience. In the middle of the night we got another cab back to Cahuita (Johnny unfortunately left earlier, after he decided we would be okay on our own). I was glad to get back in time to wake up and enjoy the beach the next morning.
At 9:00, I was awoken by our friend Nochi at the door. He had rented a bike and offered to take me for a ride on the back road where it is less crowded. I took the chance, and thoroughly enjoyed the music of the birds. We explored around, trying to decide where to have breakfast. After we all stuffed ourselves with gallo pinto, coffee and fresh tropical juice, we hit the beach. The water was so warn, it felt like getting into a bathtub. Oh, letting the waves wash over me was just what I needed to clear my head. By the time we got back on the bus I felt like I had been away for a lot longer than two days.
Unfortunately we hadn't bought our return tckets ahead of time (note to self: never do that again, and we ended up riding in the aisle 'de pie' (on foot). At the police check point we had to get off the bus so that they could get on and check everyone's passports. I now realize why illegal immigrants are forced to cross into the country on foot, through the mountains, because on the buses the officials are looking for them. Thankfully when we reached Limon, there was another bus waiting to take the overflow on our bus and we had seats the rest of the way. I slept the remaining three hours, and then went right to sleep again when I got home. Not too much relaxation over the weekend, but a lot of needed adventure.
posted by Eva Hathaway at 3:17 PM
1 Comments:
I'm glad you had a good adventure! Can't wait to get there! Isolde
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