Hotel Fiesta

Folks,

I had a great weekend in the Fiesta Hotel in Puntarenas meeting up with everyone from Intercultura.

The pic of the week shows Intercultura teachers Nathan, Patrick and Luke in Fiesta on the very beautiful Sunday morning where we met around the pool to defeat our hangovers with the tried and trusted hair of the dog.

Tsunami Alert Aftermath
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Puntarenas, where I went for the weekend, is a really flat city built on a sand bank. The name means Sandy Point, and it's like a city built on Bull Island. Locals are concerned about global warming, as it couldn't cope with any rise in sea level. The lack of high ground also meant that there was huge panic during the tsunami alert, as everyone tried to leave the city on the narrow strip that joins it to the mainland. I think there's only one road. People had to abandon cars and try to escape by foot. If there had actually been a tsunami I dread to think what would have happened in Puntarenas.

Scorpion Aftermath
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I was so relieved that my scorpion stings didn't have any lasting effects. I really thought that a scorpion sting would require hospitalisation. But it turns out that the black scorpions we have here are not that potent. And also, the larger ones are less potent than the smaller ones. I thought my guy was huge, so presumably that was in my favour too. I bought a spray that I found in the supermarket, and I'm dousing it liberally around the bed each night.

Hotel Fiesta
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The trip to Hotel Fiesta is the annual 'thank you' celebration for all staff of the school, including the English and Spanish departments, and also the administrative staff. It's a resort hotel. When you arrive you get an armband, and after that all food and drink is free.

It was really great to meet up with everyone again, and to socialise when it's been so long. My last night out with people was the pub crawl at the end of June. I'm hoping some of them will come down and visit me before I leave. Given that next week is September I really feel that my time here is approaching its end.


Ferry Journey
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Puntarenas is a very easy place to get to from here, because it's the ferry port. From here I just got two buses across the peninsula, and then the ferry. The full trip took about three and a half hours. The cost to Puntarenas for both buses and the ferry was €3.06, although the taxi out to the hotel was a whopping €5.50!

I love that ferry journey. I've made it about 7 times now, and apart from one time when it rained I've enjoyed the view so much. You sail for an hour right across the Gulf of Nicoya with Puntarenas behind you, mountains to the north and west, and the open Pacific to the south. However, the journey back at the weekend was the best ever. It left at 5.30pm, so the hour included the sunset and the transition from full daylight as we left, to full darkness when we arrived. And all for 76c. The should market it as a sunset cruise and charge accordingly.

Charlie and Denise
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Charlie and Denise have gone to the States on holidays and I don't think I'll see them again. I don't think the other casitas are being let while they're away. They've been empty this week anyway. I love when they're empty and I have the place to myself. I absolutely love an evening out in the hammock sipping a Cuba Libre reading my book, with the lightning all around, and knowing there is no-one around to disturb me. Maybe I'm becoming a hermit.
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Well, that's it for this week. My tasks this week include sending reminders to editors for the articles I've sent off, and for which I haven't received even one acknowledgment!

So until next week,

Chao (and up the Dubs again),

Éamon

Today's Headline in La Nación: Fall in birthrate empties schools and preschools

Tsunami Evacuation

Folks,

I'm writing from Puntarenas. The whole email today is about the dramatic events of Wednesday night.

The pic of the week shows some people waiting on a hilltop for the tsunami to strike.

The Alarm
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Wednesday had been a perfectly regular day. In the evening I was making my plans for the following day, as usual . I was in the casita sitting on the bed with the laptop. I had music on fairly loudly, so I didn't hear Charlie shouting for me until he was right outside. Charlie is a very jovial guy, always with a twinkle in his eye. So I was surprised when I opened the door and he burst in looking more serious than I'd ever seen him. "There's a tsunami on the way. We've got to get out. Quickly, grab your stuff and let's go. You're coming with me to Cóbano. This is not a joke." The last part was added when he saw the incredulous look on my face. For a start, in the shock of the news I confused tsunami and hurricane, and I was thinking, but there's not a breath of wind. Charlie said he'd get the van and to get up to the car park as soon as possible.

So I had to grab my stuff. But what do you grab when a tsunami is on its way? Is it life or death? Will everything be washed away? I grabbed the laptop, because that's got almost everything I need on it. I threw it in the bag. Then I ran for the door. I realised that I had money and my passport in the safe, so I ran back and got those out. Then I ran to the door again. Now I remembered my wallet with my credit card. I decided then to grab the back-up unit for the laptop, and for some reason decided to grab the laptop speakers as well. I went around turning off all the lights, until I realised how non-essential that was. When I got out I couldn't find the keys. They're always on the inside of the door, but they weren't there now. Either I'd brought them back when I went for the safe, or I'd thrown them in the bag. I tried the bag and couldn't find them. I went back inside, having to turn on all the lights again. Charlie, his wife, the people in the next house and his business partner were shouting at me from the car park. I checked around the porch. No keys. I went to go back in, and I realised I'd locked myself out. So, I just ran up to the car park. Charlie's partner, an American guy called Ryan was driving the truck, and myself, Charlie's wife, Denise, and two American girls Gillian and Andrea, who were visiting Ryan, were passengers. One of them was sobbing.

Outside in the back of the truck were the night watchman and an American guy that lives locally and his dog. Charlie was on his quad bike, and Ryan's other visitors, the boyfriends I think of Gillian and Andrea, were on another quad. Ryan was hyper and shouting 'Go, go, go'.

Evacuation
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When we started driving I asked Denise what exactly they had heard. The word was that there was a tsunami on the way following a big earthquake in Peru. It was scheduled to hit at 9pm. What time was it now, I asked, because it was too dark to see my watch. 8:30.

Charlie and Denise had received a phonecall earlier from friends in Mal País telling them that there was a tsunami warning. They assumed that given our height on the hill we were safe. A little while later the gardener, Ariel, arrived in a state of panic, and told them that the village of Santa Teresa was being evacuated, and all the hotels had been emptied. Charlie and Denise decided that we'd better go.

Since the Asian tsunami, every time I'm on the coast I look for the nearest high ground, and figure that that's where to go if one hits. It's just a habit I have. I'd always assumed that the location of the casita is totally safe, because it's high. It seemed a bit counter-intuitive to be driving down a hill with 30 minutes to go, to drive along the road at sea level a couple of kilometers through the town, possibly getting stuck in traffic while all vehicles from Mal País and Santa Teresa converged on the one mud road to Cóbano. I also regretted having both the computer and the back-up unit in the bag.

It was strange driving through Santa Teresa. Everyone was fleeing, but there was no panic. There was a truck in front with about 30 people standing in the back like cattle. But the traffic was moving. There were a lot of cars, trucks and quad bikes streaming up the hill. There were hundreds of pedestrians making the journey on foot also.

The whole journey, there was just one thing on my mind. Where were my keys? After all this, how do I tell everyone I've locked myself out?

When we got to the gas station, which is about 2km out of Santa Teresa, and on one of the highest points, there was a huge crowd of people who had decided to stay there as it was clearly safe. We decided to keep moving on to Cóbano where we could maybe get news of what was happening.

Refuge
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About another two kilometers, outside a bar called The Doghouse, we decided to stop. People had mobile phones and wanted to call home to see what was going on. There was another large crowd here. The Doghouse had started to charge 1,000 colones for entry!

There were lots of family groups together. August 15th is Mother's Day, a bank holiday here. I remember from my students that nearly everyone joins their family for this celebration.

I went off to the side, and took everything out of my bag. And sure enough I found the keys.

Denise rang her mother in the States. Her mother, at 82, is of an age where she always worries about the cost of long distance calls and tries to keep them short. Denise told her that we were evacuated and about the threat of a tsunami. Her mother replied that hadn't heard anything, but would keep her ears open, and then she attempted to hang up. 'Mom,' said Denise, 'I'm standing on a mountain here. I need to know!' She then asked to talk to her sister-in-law, who said she'd look up the internet and phone straight back.

They called back a few minutes later to say that a 8 point something earthquake had hit Peru, and there was a tsunami warning all up the Pacific coast as far as Mexico, and also in Hawaii. But there had been no word of any problems in any of the countries yet.

This made me feel that we were safe. I had felt all along that nothing was going to happen. I knew there had been a number of tsunami alerts in Asia triggered by earthquakes where nothing happened. But of course, it's better to be safe than sorry. I also felt that if it was to hit Costa Rica at 9pm, that it would have to hit Ecuador, Colombia and Panama earlier. So if nothing had happened there we were safe.

About 9.30 all the mobiles starting ringing. The all clear had been received. It was interesting that all the information we had on what was happening came from people on mobile calls to the States. Word of what was happening was related to the Tico families by American's with phones.

Back home
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And so we headed back home. Again, traffic flowed quite smoothly. Everyone was in good form. People felt better that precautions had been taken, but that everyone was safe and the danger had passed. We drove back through Santa Teresa, and it was strange to see all the shops and bars with the shutters down. It was fairly comprehensively evacuated. I was home just on 10pm, the whole thing had just taken little over an hour and a half.

And so to bed
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Little did I know as I went to bed that, for me, the worst was yet to come.

I had no problem getting to sleep, but I woke suddenly at 2.30. I didn't know why, but I was suddenly alert. Then I felt something running across my head, just over my ear. I brushed it away with my hand, and it fell onto the bed. And then in the half light I saw something dark run across the white sheet, and disappear over the side of the bed.

I had thought that I heard a fluttering when it was near my ear. So I figured it was some type of insect that had got in. I did think that it was strange that it had scuttled away over the sheets rather than flown away. I thought about turning on the light and trying to find it. But previous experience led me to believe that I would just end up waking myself completely and I wouldn't find it anyway. As I drifted off to sleep I kept thinking, I'd be much happier if I knew what that was.

At 3.40 I woke again, just as suddenly. I felt something moving. I turned in the bed, and suddenly felt this incredible sting hit my leg. It was like a combination of a bee sting and an electric shock. I shot up out of the bed, and got a second sting as I went. I ran to the bathroom, turned on the light, and looked at my leg. At first it was just all a shooting pain, but after a few minutes I could feel that there was a sting on my thigh and one just above my ankle. I didn't even know which I'd got first or second.

I went back in and looked at the bed. There was a little more light spilling from the bathroom, and I could see again a black shape against the white sheet. It looked like some type of beetle. I grabbed what is THE most important item living here, the fly swatter (come to think of it I'm amazed that wasn't what I grabbed to flee the tsunami). I took a big swipe and hit it. It lay there momentarily stunned, and I saw the full shape. Unmistakably a large black scorpion. I hit it again, this time it shot into the air and landed on the floor, still stunned, its tail curling and uncurling. But now an unmissable target on the tiled floor. I lashed at it three or four times until there was little left but the tail.

I was so shocked. I had adrenalin pumping and my leg was still throbbing. I know nothing about scorpion stings. But two on the one leg didn't seem good. I thought I might become sick from the poison. I really hadn't a clue. If I went asleep would I wake up? I took Solpadeine to be on the safe side!

After a time I calmed down. I felt ok. I shook out the sheets to check there was nothing else in the bed. I lay down. It was about an hour before I got back to sleep.

The next day I was fine. There was no lingering pain. I would have had more discomfort if it had been a mosquito bite.

And now I really have to laugh as I consider this life I've chosen to live. Where a quiet night in becomes an hour and a half fleeing a death wave on its way from Peru and followed by coming home and getting into bed with a scorpion. It's incredible that I found a little creature so much more scary than something that threatened the entire coast and caused a mass evacuation. But I'll be honest. I'd flee 100 tsunamis rather than get into bed with scorpion again.
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Well, that's it for this week. I got the ferry over today and I meet up with the Intercultura crowd for our freebie (well freebie for them) weekend. So I'm really excited to finally have an opportunity to socialise.

Until next week,

Chao,

Éamon

Thursday's Headline in La Nación: Country on 'tsunami' alert following strong earthquakes in Peru

So Many Critters

Folks,

I'm writing on Friday evening. Outside it's probably the worst thunderstorm since I arrived. It's the first time I've had to come in from the porch because of the rain. It was being blown across and I was afraid for the laptop. The weather was beautiful earlier. I was out and had to come back to put the suncream on my head. When I was back here and writing on the porch when I saw the storm approach across the ocean. It was like a white curtain coming across. I could see the clear horizon left and right of it. But as it moved closer it took more and more of the view. About 5 minutes before it arrived all the trees around me started rustling. Then the torrential rain. Then the thunder and lightning.

I'm reading again this week. And although I found the reading deprivation week very interesting, I can't explain the joy and relief of getting back to reading this week. I won't be doing that again in a hurry.

The pic of the week is of a stick insect. Not the same one as was on my headboard the other night. But he's the spitting image of him. I suspect they're related.

First fall
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The other day I had my first fall. I'm amazed I've gone so long without one. The mud is so slippery everywhere. And the hill down from the casita is so steep with very loose stone and I've lost my footing so many times. On Sunday I was walking down a new route to the beach. At one part the mud was completely slippery. It was not unlike walking on an icy footpath. In your flip-flops. As you do.

Anyway, I thought I was through the worst, and I guess let my guard down. The next thing my legs went completely from under me. I fell to the side, mostly on my bum, but I also put out my right hand to break the fall. My bum was well able for it. But I sprained my right wrist badly. It's much better now, but I couldn't use a door handle, write longhand, or brush my teeth with my dominant hand for most of the week. Thankfully typing was no problem. But it's really interrupted my prospective juggling career.

Critters
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It's absolutely incredible the number of different types of insects there are here. There is, of course, an amazing diversity generally, with monkeys, squirrels, lizards, geckos, crabs, iguanas all visible just around the porch area. But the sheer variety of insects, millipedes, spiders, caterpillars and just general creepy-crawlies is amazing. There are so many different types and shapes and sizes. I would love to throw open the double doors of the casita during the day, but it would be impossible with all the insects that would get inside. I have to try to get in and out as quickly as I can, particularly at night. All the windows have a mosquito netting so none of them can get in that way. We have come to an agreement. Outside is their space. Inside is mine. They can kill me outside. I can kill them in here.

The other day when I was putting out the rubbish - I keep it in the surf board storage thing - and a big black scorpion scuttled out.

Out on the porch at night there are huge numbers of critters, mostly flying erratically around the lights, with the geckos waiting to pounce at all times. I have discovered that I'm much less likely to have them bashing into me if I don't sit near the lights. At the beginning I was getting bashed into on a regular basis. And big moths were constantly landing in my beer. Even now I get the odd little thing flying into it. I've had to introduce a 5 second rule. I have a spoon, and if I can fling him back out within five seconds I keep the beer. Otherwise I'd be throwing it away by the bucketful!

The other night I must have left the door ajar as I came in and out during the evening. I noticed a fairly big green creature up in the rafters. It's one I see regularly, I think it's some sort of a cricket, but I'm not sure. (Even as I'm writing I've just noticed a big moth up there now!) He was too high to reach, so I pushed him with the fly swatter, and he flew to the mosquito screen on the window. I could catch him from there in a pint glass, and was able to release him outside safely and unharmed.

Later on the same night, I had got into bed and read my book, and was ready to turn off the light. I turned and immediately saw a stick insect, exactly like the one in the pic of the week, just sitting right beside me on the headboard. He was looking straight at me. Mind you if you look at those eyes - the whole face just seems to be eyes - I guess you'll always think they're looking at you.

Now, I couldn't even turn off the light with that big of a critter in the room, let alone go to sleep. The length of his body, I guess, would stretch between my outstretched thumb and index finger. So I got out the pint glass. I really did try to catch him, but he went down behind the bed. I had to pull the whole bed out, but he was very evasive. It ended up that it was either him or me. And I'm afraid he was the victim of a vicious fly swatting attack.

A howler
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The other day I was doing the dishes and I looked out the window over the sink, and there was a howler monkey out in the tree straight across from the window. He seemed to be looking straight at me. I must be getting paranoid. I think they're all looking at me. There was a group of them off to the left. It was the first time I've seen them so close to the casita since my first day here.
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Well, that's it for this week. My wrist is almost back to normal, so the juggling can recommence shortly. I'm down in the internet café tomorrow. Wednesdays and Saturdays are internet days. I go down to a local café that no-one else seems to know about. There's rarely anyone else there. It's cheap, about 85c an hour. But all connections here are so incredibly slow. I'm usually there for about 3 or 3 and a half hours. I could easily do it in 1 hour if I had broadband. When I get back I'm like a child as I sit down to read my emails. Because I only get them twice a week I look forward to reading them so much. I used find emails and replying to them a chore, but now they're a highlight of the week.

Outside the rain has eased off slightly, but the lights are still flickering as the electricity reacts to the lightning.

So until next week,

Chao (and up the Dubs),

Éamon

Today's Headline in La Nación: Weak Control of Public Funds in Red Cross

Reading deprivation

Folks,

So that's the end of my first of three months in the casita. I've really enjoyed it. It's very quiet, and it's been a challenge for me to live with very little happening on the social side. But I've really got used to it. I don't know if I could live so quietly for longer than three months, but I think three will be fine.

The pic of the week is the main road through Santa Teresa after rain.

Reading Deprivation
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The Artist's Way, which is a book-based course in creativity, is divided into twelve weeks. The challenge this week is reading deprivation. I can't read a thing. I thought it was particularly harsh at a time when I have no access to radio, TV or Internet (for audio or visual). And at a time when I'm doing more reading than ever. I was afraid I'd have a full week of solitaire on the PC.

But I've started to use my resources to fill the time. I have enjoyed going to the beach without a book and just enjoying watching what is going on. The people, the surfers, the crabs, the sky. And I went to the soda (local restaurant) the other day with paper and a pen. And instead of reading I wrote. I described the place in detail. I wrote about what the woman was doing in the kitchen, and about her son watching TV in the corner. About the four American guys who came in and took ages looking at the menu deciding whether to stay or not. I enjoyed it.

And last night I started to teach myself to juggle! It's something I've always wanted to do, since a juggler once told me that it's not a special talent that only some people have. Everyone can juggle with practice. So I'm trying to perfect juggling, still with one ball (rolled up tinfoil), but I can feel the improvement.

The roads
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The roads here are in a terrible condition, as you can see from the pic of the week. After rain, whole sections become mudbaths. They can fill the full width of the road, usually leaving a slightly less muddy section at the sides where you can walk.

A 'cutter' came along on Friday and Saturday to fix the road up a bit. This is like something you'd see to clear away snow in a colder climate. It's like a bulldozer with a diagonal blade at the front and slices through the uneven mud and leaves a clean cut. It works well on the dry sections, but just scoops lots of extra mud into the wet ones.

On Saturday I was walking from the internet café to the beach and hit a particularly bad section. Even the sides were completely wet. I chose a route through it which proved to be a wrong choice. It was like walking through wet cement. There were stones throughout the wet wet mud right up to my ankles. And once you're in it, there's no going back, you just have to keep going. The suction was so strong I almost lost my flip-flops several times. And it's hard to balance when your flip-flops are gripped tight. It would be very easy to topple, and that would be an appalling vista. People could see the trouble I was in, and were calling to me, telling me where I should have gone. I knew at this stage where I should have gone, and felt like telling them where they should go. As I'd lift a foot, the mud and stones would fill the vacuum created between my foot and the flip-flop. I was getting taller with every step.

I eventually emerged with two muddy clumps at then end of my legs. A guy from a shop wentn inside and brought me out a basin of water to clean my feet and my flip-flops. In future, I'm going to try to do most of my walking on the beach.

Rancho Sancho closed
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The restaurant, which is owned by Charlie and just down the hill, is closed now until the season picks up again in November. It's still my postal address, and post will still be delivered. (I hope! Nothing has arrived yet, and I know several things have been sent.) The staff have for the moment been given other work around the property. Right now they're building 'gaviones' just across from where I'm writing. I don't know the name in English, but it's like a big thick wall of rocks contained in wire cages that stack against the bank of earth that supports the road that leads to the casitas, and further on to Charlie's house. With the rain a little section gave way, and Charlie reckons the gaviones are needed to keep the road in place - 'I can't lose my road. I lose my road I lose my business'.

Día de la Virgen de los Ángeles
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Thursday was the feast of the Virgin of the Angels, a day when thousands of people walk from wherever they live on a pilgrimage to the basilica at Cartago, in the Central Valley. This is the home of the statue of La Negrita, the black virgin. When they arrive in Cartago, they walk down the aisle of the basilica on their knees. It's probably the major religious festival here after Christmas and Easter.
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Well, that's it for this week. Again, I've got a clear diary, so nothing scheduled for the week.

Chao,

Éamon

Thursday's Headline in La Nación: YES 51.5% and NO 42.1%, among decided voters