Loop on the Tour Bus

I spent today seeing some of Costa Rica by bus. Not my favorite way to travel, but it was better than the other option I was considering – hanging out in the hotel for the day.

The tour bus picked us up at our hotel, took us around and returned us back to the hotel. With one exception, most of the meals and the opportunities to buy things were at large developments, owned by people who already have a lot of money. Only the final stop, a small shop at the end of a boat ride, was owned by locals. I bought my water there. We’ll be leaving for Panama tomorrow and never walked outside of our hotel (not much reason to, it’s just a freeway outside) or changed any money. Dollars are accepted easily here.

We traveled with a group of about 20 tourists, all of whom were picked up from their hotels on the outskirts of the city. Several were attending an epidemiological conference. Quite a few were taking several of these day trips. Despite having quite a bit of time in country, they preferred to see things from the comfort of a bus, then return to a comfortable hotel in San Jose than to spend more time in other areas of the country. I suppose one can see more that way, but I think the level of understanding is less. I wished for the opportunity to talk to the local residents and thought if I had more time, I’d head right for a small town.

We saw a nice variety of things – a coffee estate, a wildlife and waterfall garden, the Poas volcano crater and a boat ride down the Sarapiqui river. My favorite part was the volcano. The crater was one mile wide, with a lagoon within it and white smoke emerging from fumaroles. It was raining when we arrived and we had to walk ten minutes in the rain to arrive. I was carrying River in a front carrier and using an umbrella. I couldn’t believe how well he held up, even laughing when we arrived.

The La Paz Waterfall Garden is a man-man tourism center, constructed by its very wealthy owner. It is well designed though and offers visitors the opportunity to see many birds, butterflies, snakes, monkeys and frogs at very close range. It’s a very good place for families to visit.

They told us when we entered that we should remove any earrings. One woman in our group didn’t listen though and a bird grabbed her earring right out of her ear, then returned to its post to eat it. Even River, at six months old, seemed to enjoy the indoor butterfly sanctuary, with the colorful creatures flying in front of him, and the area where the hummingbirds gathered at feeders, darting around us like little high-powered bees.

The series of waterfalls are of courser natural. The owner purchased the land and made it into a private reserve. He also constructed a series of walkways and stairs (1600 of them, mostly heading downhill) that make it easy to descend the series of waterfalls and get very close to the powerful sprays.

The river trip was short, but relaxing and full of wildlife, In and near the olive-colored water we saw an iguana in a treetop, monkeys, a caiman, an aninga bird, and long nosed bats, small bats that look like butterflies or moths and perch upon wood and rocks on the river’s edge.

River was amazingly well behaved and captured the hearts of many on the bus. They couldn’t believe how happy and content he was and seemed amazed when I said he was usually like that. I said we lucked out that he was born that way; But a woman from Spain, upon seeing me changing him on a stone table and River laying calmly on the hard surface, thought the way the parents acted had some effect. “A lot of people wouldn’t even come on a trip like this,” she said, “because they think they need so much stuff or that their child must eat or sleep at certain times. You seem to have gotten him used to adapting.” Maybe, or maybe he was just born a great traveler. In any case, I’m proud of him and grateful to have a companion.

We didn’t bring a stroller on this trip, since I could only carry so much on my own. Without a stroller, swing, jumper or bouncy seat, I’m holding or carrying him the vast majority of the day. That can get tiring, however, the Ergo baby carrier is working very well.. River is content in there and it’s quite comfortable for me and leaves me with two hands free.

Buena Vista

It feels as though I’ve lived through a lot of hours this weekend, as though Friday morning was ages away. I certainly packed a lot of experience into a few days.

This morning I woke up at the (for me) ungodly hour of 6:30 to take a bird and a monkey-searching walk into the jungle with a local guide. Shortly after I’d arisen and thrown on my clothes, Robin stopped by.

“It’s cold and windy, and will probably rain. I don’t think you’ll see much. It’s probably not worth going.”

Given his expertise, I trusted him and went back to bed. But then I reconsidered. I wanted the opportunity to talk to a local, to not get all of my local information from an Englishman who is not on very good terms with the community. In any case, I wanted a bit of exercise, so I might as well take advantage of a morning walk.

Roberto lives down the road from Robin and owns 48 hectares. He’s a farmer, who grows rice, yucca, plantains and vegetable for his own consumption and local sale. He also has some chickens and a cow. He and his son work the land, growing on one portion while allowing other areas to rest for 4-5 years.

Robin has to walk across his land to do his beetle work, and to take tourists on walks. So it seems they have an arrangement. On the rare opportunities when tourists come, they are expected to take a walk with Roberto, at a cost of $10. I thought this was fair.

True to prediction, we didn’t see too much. But we went much further into the damp, thick greenness. We crossed a small stream, scampered up and down bank, and walked amidst a mist of butterflies. Besides the sloth, the butterflies are my favorite animal in Bolivia, flapping around in a brilliant array of reds, yellows, whites, blacks, blues, and oranges.

We could hear monkeys, and at one point, looked up to see a capuchin monkey almost directly over us. We took a short break at a simple thatched hut. Underneath the roof was a pile of hay, some dried corn, oranges, and a few dishes. Roberto offered me an orange, saying this was where his son worked. We then slid down a steep slope and approached the clear sound of monkeys. We could hear their calls, we could see the tree branches shake, we could hear the fruit falling from the boughs, banging against the ground.

When we stood still for a while, we began to see them crossing. First one, then another, later another. I had the realization that I was standing in the middle of the South American jungle watching monkeys and I appreciated the moment. Not a bad way to spend a weekend. Despite my fuchsia windbreaker, they didn’t seem to pay any attention to us. We were silent witnesses to their gathering and feeding off the bobosi tree, a fruit popular among several local mammals.

Coming back, we had a nice close-up view of a hummingbird, which seemed to freeze momentarily in mid-air. Around us, we heard the calls of many different birds, including toucans.

Last night I stayed up until midnight skimming through a draft manuscript Robin has written about his experiences in Bolivia. It left me with a sad feeling after reading of constant tension, conflict, and inability to create alliances – the result of a man with a singular drive and passion who has difficulty bringing others to his cause. After reading about the opposition in the town and the government towards founding the National Park, I asked Roberto what he thought about it. Had the town benefited from it’s creation?

“For us, who live a bit further away, not so much,” he said. “But those who live closer to the boundary and in town have had more opportunities to earn money from it.”

Did he support its creation?

“Sure,” he said. “It was only the people who lived in and near the park who were against it. For everyone else it was OK. I think it’s a good thing that we have this area saved. So that something is left for my children and their areas. So that if they use up everything outside the park, something will still be left for them. The problem is that many people have a hard time looking into the future. They only think of what they can get today.”

So for him, a toothless middle-aged farmer, the benefit was not so much the preservation of species as making sure some resources remain for his family in the future. His perspective was understandable.

He did have a good quality pair of binoculars, one of the 18 Robin say exist in the village, and seemed to enjoy identifying birds, though not with the same passion as Robin. I learned more about the wildlife from Robin, who was able to bring it to life for me through descriptions in my own language about the vegetation, birds and animals. From Roberto, I learned more about the local life.

He told me only a few people are employed in Buena Vista. “Much of the work is only short term, for a day or a week. There is not much stable employment. So many live off the land, growing what the can. And the young are heading for the city, where they can earn a bit with more stability.”

In the afternoon, I met several work friends for lunch on the plaza, followed by a tour to the local coffee producing factory, and a stop at the river Surutu, a river that one can walk across to enter the Amboro National Park. Even though the river wasn’t too high, and a busload of locals were on the other side, cooking lunch over a campfire, I wouldn’t want to wade across. It was wide, moving at a good pace, and hard to tell exactly how deep it was. I read that each year, several people die walking across the rivers in that area. A run-down, sad-looking, but evidently formerly colorful bus was on the beach, part of it’s occupants across the river, the rest sitting in the bus to escape the cold wind. “Comfortable, elegant, service” was written across the top of the bus.

I’ve got a couple of days to focus on working and on packing up, then begins a pretty hectic month of travel.

A Weekend with Local Company

I had expected to spend this weekend alone. I didn’t mind that idea since I looked forward to having a few days to try to get things in order, post-move. But my friendly Bolivian acquaintances made sure I had something to do each day.

Yesterday, my colleague Maria invited me out to lunch. She took me to Alexander Café. It’s her favorite place and I think it will soon become mine as well. Owned by an American in La Paz, it’s a chain café, featuring salads, sandwichs, wraps, fruit drinks, muffins, brownies, and desserts, as well as the best coffee in the city. I had an Asian chicken salad, a strawberry yogurt shake and a whole wheat muffin – a California-style wholesome meal.

Maria, a slender, attractive, single woman with a bright smile and a positive attitude, has worked for the the past five years. Originally from Cochabamba, she worked in La Paz for several years before moving to Santa Cruz.

“La Paz is not a pretty city,” she said, “but it’s a comfortable place to live. The cost of living is low, one can walk everywhere, and cafes and restaurants are on every corner.”

I told her that I liked the atmosphere in the bank and in the country. She said it was largely due to the importance of family in Bolivian culture. She described how when the bank moved its headquarters from La Paz to Santa Cruz, many headquarters staff had to be transferred to Santa Cruz.

“There was a whole process, that took about a year – of helping people to find housing, to sign up for kindergartens. One weekend they even flew everyone and their families to Santa Cruz to allow them to check it out and make sure they’d be comfortable living there.”

I saw the family atmosphere this afternoon. I spent the afternoon with my Spanish teacher Oscar, his wife Rosario, and sons Sergio (5) and Mario (9 months). After they picked me up, we went out for lunch at one of their favorite cafes The Corner That Everyone Should Know. The unassuming exterior led into a pleasant courtyard filled with chairs and a small restaurant. Almost every table was full – young tables, families, and families with children.

“Every Sunday, families like to go out for lunch,” Rosario told me. “It’s the day of rest.” She also explained that household employees work from Monday through Saturday. So Sunday is the only day there is no one to cook for them.

“Do most families have household help?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But the employees don’t have anyone helping them.”

“No. That’s why they have Sundays off.”

This is just one of the indicators that sets Santa Cruz off from the rest of Bolivia – the fact that the average citizen has a housekeeper.

Oscar and Rosario are solidly middle-class, but far from rich. Oscar earns $8 an hour teaching English and Spanish. Rosario is an accountant. They rent their home and they drive a small car with no radio, clock, or glass in the side mirrors (one was stolen, the other smashed).

After enjoying our plates of grilled fish with French fries, rice and salad, we headed for our main destination, a butterfly park. To get there, we had to drive past the wealthy suburb of Urubo. We traveled on a smooth, well-maintained road, lined by brick walls with wire toppings, much like a jail wall. I asked what these walls were for.

“It’s because it’s a closed community,” Rosario told me.

I had wondered what Rosario would be like. Oscar had told me she wanted to marry him after one year of dating, but that he wasn’t interested. She continued to date him, but was sad to not have his commitment. He finally did marry her because she was pregnant. She was only 21 at the time. When I asked why she was in such a hurry, Oscar said, “Because she didn’t want to lose such an interesting guy.”

He is an interesting guy. And very nice. But his short height, his pot belly, his former immaturity and reliance on his mother, and most notably, his shrunken left arm and hand, apparently a birth defect, could make it hard for him to find a partner.

He has come to love and appreciate Rosario and told me repeatedly that “She’s a very good woman.” She looked similar a woman who one could imagine would overlook physical shortcoming. She herself was slender and pleasant, but rather plain, with a wide mouth and large teeth. But I could easily feel the tranquility radiating from her that Oscar had described. She seemed simple, kind, caring and good. I liked her.

And Oscar clearly loved his children. He had told me that their running to greet him when he comes home in the evening is one of the things that makes him happiest. Throughout the day, he held them, kissed them, talked to them, called the baby his king, his world.

After the series of fancy lots, we drove down a rough road, so dusty and sandy it was like driving on a beach. As motorcycles, 4-wheelers and large trucks and 4x4s passed us, they raised clouds of dust so dense we couldn’t see a thing.

After a couple of miles of this, we reached Guembe Biocenter, a park on 83 hectares of land. Admission cost $7.50 for adults, quite steep by Bolivian standards. I worried it was more than Oscar and Rosario expected. We were assigned a young man as a guide, who would lead us through the park.

First he brought us to butterfly laboratory, where we saw the stages of butterfly development – first the eggs on a leaf (visible through a magnifying glass), then the larvae, the cocoons, and the butterflies breaking free. Once they broke free, they were moved to the butterfly museum. They say it’s the largest butterfly museum in the world. I’ve only been to one other – on the Canadian side of Niagara falls. I’d have to say the Canadian one was better – with a denser population of butterflies and better visibility. But this is Bolivia after all and it was still quite impressive, especially since they only use local butterflies.

Inside the netted viewing area was a 120 meter observation deck that we could climb and look out over the dense tropical greenery. The butterflies lived between 24 hours and 8-9 months, with an average of four weeks.

From there, we saw a couple of orchid plants, and a symmetric stone structure, where the property owner practices yoga, considering it a center of energy.

They had a series of small pools as well as a lagoon, where one could kayak. I hadn’t brought my swimsuit, since Oscar thought it would be too cold. Although by the afternoon, it was blazing hot. Unable to swim, I took a quick spin on a kayak and spent some time reading. In the afternoon, we took a horse and buggy ride through the forest. The buggy was equipped with incredibly soft seats that absorbed the shock of the rapid trot.

We ended up spending the day there, not leaving until almost six. It was the first time for both Oscar and Rosario to visit that place and they seemed to enjoy themselves. They invited me to their home for evening tea, an invitation I appreciated. But since I still had some things to do in the evening, I asked whether I might be able to take them up on it another time.

All in all, I spent a pleasant weekend with very nice people. I think I could get used to living here.