Lost In Puerto Viejo

You can see how easy it is to get lost here. There are less than 20 streets.

Well, you may be relieved to hear, that even in 2013, with Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pintrest, Gmail, Smartphones and Iphones, and whatever other technological advances you can think of, there are still places in this world where you can unplug. It is still possible to disconnect, leave it all behind, forget your cares and worries, and for a short time, listen to the waves crash on the shore, watch monkeys play in the tress, and drink coconuts and beer till your heart's content. Now, there is plenty of debate as to whether or not checking out from the fast-speed, modern world is healthy. Some people might argue that this is a sign of depression. By not partcipating in the social media world, you are distancing yourself from your friends and family. That your lack of interest in social elements is a sign that you are mentally unstable. I'm no expert on the subject of how much interneting is "normal" or "healthy", but I will tell you one thing, it has been great getting lost in Puerto Viejo.

We've been living in Costa Rica for three months now. We left Oakland over four months ago, and while I

The view of our front porch.

was worried I might be homesick by this point, quite the opposite is true. I feel as though I've only just skimmed the surface of what this place has to offer. And during this time, I checked out of "real life", or whatever you want to call the norms of the first world. I haven't been on Facebook much, I stopped using my smartphone, which only acted like a mini computer, and I rarely have checked my email. I have been working, at a new bar since the last time I wrote. I am now an employee at Tasty Waves, a great little surf bar, owned and operated for the past two years by a guy from Huntington Beach, California. It's a small, close-knit staff, good food, closer to home than the previous job, so I can bike there (when it's not raining), and it's where Jahsiah and I had been spending most of time and money anyways, so it's working out perfectly. Monday night is Movie Night, Tuesday night there is live music, followed by an awesome party, and on Thursdays, there is a weekly Trivia Game, which we have yet to win. It's a bar where, you guessed it, everyone knows your name.

In addition to that, Jahsiah and I are helping to form a Community Garden Project. Touching on our past experiences working in the non-profit world, we are building a grassroots movement to help ensure that there are no families in the area that are without fresh food. The project is just in the early stages, but it's nice to be involved in something that serves other people and puts us more in touch with the folks that actually live here, rather than just vacation here.

That being said, after Easter, we officially reached slow season in the Caribbean. The crowds have died down and most times, Puerto Viejo looks like a ghost town. Lots of hostels, bars, and restaurants, with their lights on but nary a patron in sight. This will be a challenging time financially, as business is slow, but a great time to get to know the real Puerto Viejo, calm in the absence of Ticos on vacation, Northerners escaping the cold, and Spring Breakers looking for a non-stop party.

We've had a few other events take place in the past few months. Our first visitor came to stay with us. Jahsiah's friend from New York was in town, just for a few days, to catch some surf and check out the area. At the end of his trip, we said goodbye, not just to him, but also to our travel mate, Timmy. He headed back to California, which allowed the reality of us living here, to sink in. On our trip, it felt like just a trip, a time to see Mexico and Central America, with the goal of living in Costa Rica. But since Timmy was never planning on staying, his departure marked the moment when Jahsian and I realized, "Oh shit, we really do live here!". So, we've been getting used to this jungle house with just us and the dogs here. We've had bats galoure in the house lately, and every morning, there are several humming birds that fly in and out of the windows, look us in the eye, say good morning, and then as quickly as they appeared, they leave again. We still hear the monkeys every morning, and usually right before it starts to rain.

We make bread to sell at Caribbeans, a local coffee and chocolate shop (convinently located next door to

Liz and Jahsiah's Herb and Cheese Focaccia.

Tasty Waves), we walk the dogs around the property and sometimes take them to the beach so LaDainian can attack the waves. Life keeps on going, much like it did in Oakland, but the surroundings are obviously quite different. The pace of life is slow here. And I got what I wanted, more trees than people, more face to face conversations, less texting and Facebooking, no time cards to punch, no touch screen POS systems to track your sales, and if you ever don't have enough money at the end of the night, well that's OK, you can always come back tomorrow and pay your tab.

So, for me, it's been easy to unplug. And while I feel a little guilty about not staying up on my social media game, I have to say, it's been nice being lost in space and time. Existing in a realm where neighbors watch out for each other, owners of businesses are still working along side their employees, and bathing suits count as proper work attire.

Smile, you're in the Caribbean.

And now, some pictures of mushrooms and where we live.

For scale. Everything is bigger down here.

After the rain.

The road to our house.

Wild Oyster Mushrooms.

Where we walk dogs.