Puerto Viejo, How I Love Thee

I gazed out the window as the plane began it's descent into Juan Santamaria International Airport in Alajuela, just outside the capitol, San Jose. Even though this was the biggest metropolitan area of the country, it was so green and lush. From every angle there were hills covered with trees, framing the Central American excuse for a big city. Memories of family vacations to Hawaii surfaced and I knew I was going to like this place. Getting off the plane and out of the airport the air was so thick and heavy, like a blanket draped over your shoulders, which produced an almost instant layer of sweat, making me stare in wonder at the taxi and shuttle drivers clothed in button up shirts and long pants. The chaos of cries from every direction was overwhelming. "Taxi! Taxi! You need taxi?!". No, I did not need a taxi as I was part of a volunteer group and our shuttle arrangements to take us to our hostel were already set. I liked this place. I liked the thick air, the pushy taxi drivers, the chaotic small airport.

That was my first impression of Costa Rica. I came here when I was 18 on a volunteer program with International Student Volunteers. One month in Costa Rica, which included a two week home-stay in a small community in the Alajuela Province, followed by a two week eco tour of the country, starting on the Pacific side and ending on the Caribbean. I was captivated by everything I saw and I knew within minutes of my arrival that I would end up living in this funky little country. The long bus rides through mountainous forests, stopping for snakes in the road, monkeys in the trees above, passing through small communities with nothing more than a soda as the center of entertainment, arriving at beaches that made you think you'd fallen into a postcard. I drank it all in and I couldn't quench my thirst. After that one month, I returned home and the only thing on my mind was how and when I could get back to Costa Rica. For the next ten years it was all I talked about. Everyone who knew me knew how obsessed I was with this place that some had heard of, since their cousin or their aunt had been there for their honeymoon or on vacation a few years ago.

And so, over the next decade I returned to Costa Rica every few years, falling more and more in love. The gallo pinto, the guaro, the Imperial, the friendly disposition of Costa Ricans, the lush vegetation everywhere you looked, the laid back vibe, the wildness of it all, I feel more and more deeply in love with each visit. Every time I returned I would go to a part of the country I had been before, like Arenal or Monteverde or Tortuguero, and I would also visit a new place. It wasn't until my fourth visit that I discovered what is now my home, Puerto Viejo.

To be honest, I didn't really like Puerto Viejo the first time I came here. The place we stayed was run down and some bummy surfers who were staying there as well stole our food out of the communal kitchen. The vibe was a bit aggressive and the town didn't seem to have much to offer if you didn't plan on surfing your days away. So, after a few nights we headed down to the end of the road, Manzanillo. Much quieter and much more removed, we found Manzanillo to be to our liking. We made friends with a guy who was building a hostel and the plan was hatched that if we moved down we could stay with him and help run the place. So set in motion the events of the next 4 years of my life.

We'll fast forward a bit, past the story of our attempted drive to Costa Rica and our homeless stint on the beaches of Mexico, that's for another time, but in the end we landed in Puerto Viejo and all of my dreams came true. I had accomplished the largest life goal that I had set out for myself thus far. I was finally living in my happy place. I was worried that when I got here, reality would get the better of me and I would realize that this place wasn't as great as I had made it out to be for all these years, that the vacation would be over and in the end this place would be just like any other place, stagnant, boring, fake. But, thankfully, after one year of living here, I find that I am still in love, with not just this country, but Puerto Viejo specifically. I've been with my boyfriend for 5 years, I've had my dogs for 7 years, and I've been in love with Costa Rica for 11 years, so this is the longest relationship I've ever had, and I'm proud to say it's still a healthy one (minus all the guaro).

For the sake of the Buzzfeed and Facebook generation, I would like to list the reasons why I love Puerto Viejo. I will use bullet points because I think it makes it easier for people who like to skim ahead and they also give off the air of importance.

• Great Weather Year Round Sure there are days and weeks of torrential rain, but for the most part, you can live without ever wearing anything other than shorts and a tank top. It's always warm, if not down right hot, which makes every day a beach day, a great day for languidly lounging in a hammock, walking dogs, and drinking cold beer. Flip flops are the only shoes you'll ever need and you don't need to worry about whether or not you need to bring a jacket when you go out for the night.

• Street Food is Abundant and Cheap I'm a sucker for street food; from pad thai on the streets of Bangkok to bacon wrapped hot dogs in the Mission, I love buying food from street vendors and sampling some of the finest local cuisine for the most affordable price. Here in Puerto Viejo we are blessed with pattys, meat sticks (more eloquently known throughout the world as kabobs), empanadas, fried chicken, and my personal favorite taco chinos, or simply put, egg rolls. There are even more options as well, usually being carried around by some traveling gypsy Argentinians, but I'm not sure what to call most of these items. All I know is that for one or two dollars you can have your hands on some awesome piece of food and you don't even have to get off your bike to complete the transaction.

• You Can Bike Everywhere When we first moved here, we lived in what I like to call The Jungle Mansion. It was far from town and we had to drive most places, especially at night since the 3 kilometer road through the jungle wasn't exactly easy to navigate on a bike. But, once we moved to town we entered the world of beach cruisers and I have never looked back. I love biking everywhere, to work, to go grocery shopping, to go to dinner, or meet up with friends, biking makes me feel like a kid again. Riding bikes has got to be the most enjoyable way to commute ever, and I think everyone in the world would be much happier if we all just rode bikes more often.

• The Absence of Parking Tickets and Smart Phones My biggest grievance with "civilized" society is the smart phone and second to that is the infamous street sweeping ticket. Aside from fresh off the boat tourists at my bar asking for the wifi password, you don't see many smart phones down here. A lot of the locals have them, but they don't dominate social settings as they do in California. When you spend time with your friends, you're not constantly interrupted by Facebook notifications, text messages, or Instagram updates. It's nice being in the company of your peers and actually having conversations. The other absence I am incredibly found of in Puerto Viejo is the parking ticket. Tickets from street sweeping, expired meters,and expired registration do not exist here and this makes me profoundly happy. Trying to remember that you can't park your car in front of your house or apartment on the 2nd and 4th Thursday and the 1st and 3rd Wednesday is something that I hope to never experience ever again. Whenever a bat flies into my head, or a giant spider turns up in my bathroom, I just remind myself that it's been over year since one of those stupid little Interceptors has placed a $72 ticket on my dash right as I'm running outside to move my car.

• Monkeys and Sloths, Oh My! I'm sorry, but there is really nothing cooler in life than waking up, rolling over in your bed and seeing a sloth, silently and stealthily passing by your bedroom window. And how about troops of monkeys playing in the trees above you while you work at a beach bar? Sorry, but my life is cool, probably cooler than yours.

• Characters, Everywhere You Look This place is bizarre and as such, it is filled with many bizarre people. From the locals who have grown up in this removed and slightly isolated corner of the world, to the foreigners who have flocked here for a variety of reasons like retirement, entrepreneurship, or avoiding felony charges back home, everyone down here is a little weird, myself included. People here are different and I like to think of this place as the Island of Misfit Toys, although it is a not an island, even though lots of people who vacation here still sometimes think it is. I love it, traveling salesmen that offer up pillows and back scratchers, wizards, old surfers who got lost in the waves, musicians, bar and restaurant owners, everyone here has a different story, and each one is just as interesting as the next. There is no end to the entertainment that can come from striking up a conversation with a random person at the bar or at the bus stop. It's like constantly living in one of those comedic movies that tells vignettes of different characters and then has all of the stories intersect at different times. 

• Endless Hours of Free Entertainment Aside from talking to the myriad of characters in town, this place can also offer up endless hours of free activities and entertainment. Spending the day at the beach, walking through the jungle, or exploring what's further down the road costs nothing and no matter how many times you visit the same place, there is always something new to see. Butterflies, iguanas, monkeys, sloths, birds, caterpillars, snakes, frogs, and horses are plentiful and you never know what you will encounter just off the main road if you venture in a ways. For a little bit of money you can buy a bike and take yourself on countless expeditions, exploring new paths. The rivers are always changing, as is the ocean itself and you can bear witness to new waterways and shorelines every day. Fruit grows freely and as you explore you can dine on some of nature's finest offerings, all without ever spending a penny. Maybe I didn't know where to go back home, but I never felt like there was so much to do without costing anything. I think the freedom this place offers is what is so appealing to so many of us freaks and miscreants. Wandering in the quiet beauty of a place like this, you can truly let your mind go and be open to any inspiration that comes your way.

 I know this place is not for everyone, and I'm happy about that. If we all loved it to the same degree, it would be overcrowded and overrun with people from everywhere flocking to Puerto Viejo and then it would lose its charm. I know that I may outgrow this place, I may change and evolve and this place may no longer suit me, my wants, dreams, or desires. As with all relationships, change is inevitable. And I'm OK with that. I love this place for what it is right now, and for who I am while I'm here. I'm content knowing that I made it, and that it was, in the end, what I wanted it to be, and so much more. More and more I think of this place as Never Never Land, the place where we come to never grow up, to stay young, to live as if we have no cares in the world. Maybe one day we'll have to leave, have to grow up, have to get "real" about life and responsibilities, and street sweeping tickets. Maybe one day I'll decide that riding a bike is silly and something that only kids should do, that laying on the beach is a waste of time, and that watching monkeys play in the trees isn't that cool. But, somehow I doubt that very much.

So, if you need me, or you want to find me and you're not quite sure how to get here, to Never Never Land, just follow the second star to the right, and I'll be here, falling deeper and deeper in love with my life.

"The second star to the right, shines in the night for you

To tell you that the dreams you plan, really can come true

The second star to the right, shines with a light so rare

And if it's Never Land you need

It's light will lead you there"

We Added Stars to The Sky

Bryton, Jackson, Liz, Jahsiah.

Last weekend marked the one year anniversary of our arrival to Puerto Viejo. We knew it had been one year because it was the second annual big surf competition in the 2014 Olympus National Surfing Circuit, this year sponsored by Lime Coral Surf Apparel. Last year, when we got to town, we were in the midst of moving into our jungle mansion, overlapping with the previous tenants by one night, so we spent the night in the house with Shai, and his friend Bobby, which was great since they were able to give us information about the house and a little bit of knowledge about what to expect as normal; bats flying into the house, hummingbirds saying good morning, snakes to watch out for, scorpions and ant encounters, things like that. We watched the surf competition with Shai and Bobby, Timmy, and the dogs last year, waiting for the house to be cleaned for our initial move in. This year, we watched the surf competition under shaded umbrellas, selling beers out of a cooler as part of the Tasty Waves Team.

Tasty Waves, the bar I work at, sponsors surfers in the Open Pro and National Circuit competitions. It is, after all, a surf bar. In fact, all of the front of the house employes, other than myself, are surfers. A fact that I should probably work on changing, but I'll give that another year or so of living in the Caribbean. On Saturday of the competition, our friend Jetsie invited us to a party that would be held that night at the Le NUMU Beach Club, part of the Le Cameleon Resort, one of, if not, the fanciest resorts in the Caribe Sur area. Jetsie was to be in a bikini contest held at the party and the winner would be chosen based on crowd support, so she was trying to round up as many supporters as possible to win the prize of $1,000, donated generously by Lime Coral, the sponsors of the surf competition. 

After the competition ended for the day, we cleaned up, sobered up a bit from all that day drinking, and evaluated who could attend based on work schedules. A small crew of us made our way down to Le NUMU, dressed to the nines, Caribbean style. We were a bit stunned to be hit with a $4 cover charge at the door, a phrase I had not heard since leaving the Bay Area. But, since we had already made the ten minute bike ride journey down to far end of Cocles, we decided to suck it up, pay the cover, support Jetsie and call it an early night. It was just after nine, and it didn't seem to be a promising start to the evening. Not many people were there, so myself, Jahsiah, Taylor, and Bryton banded together, drinking cans of Pilsen, waiting for the rumored bikini contest so we could return to our normal routine of hanging out at Tasty Waves, slighty uncomfortable in our fancy, and largely, empty setting.

The entrance to Le Cameleon, lit up at night.

Taylor and I decided to investigate the resort side of Le Cameleon, located across the street from Le NUMU Beach Club. We stumbled down the path, lit by lantern bags, and walked into the beautiful setting of what turned out to be the wedding of the Lime Coral owner to his Costa Rican wife. The place was lit up gorgeously and filled with Lime Coral employees, surfers from the days event, and good friends of the happy couple. Everyone was so friendly to us wedding crashers, offering us drinks from the open bar, birthday cake, and chatting our ears off about the weekend's success, their love of their jobs, and their gratefulness for having such an awesome boss. I could see why they were so happy. The set up was amazing, the open bar is always a win, and these people were happy with what they do for a living. Traveling around Costa Rica, sponsoring surf competitions and promoting good clothing and surf wear.

Taylor and I made ourselves at home, enjoying mojitos, while I felt guilty for having abandonned the boys back at the beach club. Just as I was finishing my all too delicious free mojito and preparing to walk back and tell Jahsiah and Bryton what they missed out on, Jahsiah appeared, looking a little unsure, as we first did, as to how welcome we were at a stranger's wedding. Again, he was instantly welcomed, and when Bryton came moments after, the crew was reunited. Turns out, Bryton knew the owner of Lime Coral, and had been invited to the party, but didn't realize Jetsie's invitation was one in the same. As we enjoyed our second round of open bar drinks, I made mention that we should get back across the street so as not to miss Jetsie's appearance. Some of the guys we were talking to laughed, and explained that the whole party across the street was the reception for the wedding, and nothing was going to start before the newly weds arrived, so we waited with the wedding party.

Ours weren't so big, and we didn't have as many, but you get the idea.

When the bride and groom did finally cross the street, it was no longer the empty, awkward scene that we had walked out on an hour prior, but a packed party. The band went on. Un Rojo, a Costa Rican reggae band from San Jose, equipped with a full drum set, 2 backup singers, and a trumpet! This was, hands down, one of the best shows I've seen since coming to Costa Rica. As the band rocked, and general drunken merriment followed, the night took on a magical feel. Taylor and Bryton came running up to us with paper lanterns for us to light and set afloat in the sky, a la Thailand full moon style. People gathered on the beach to send these floating wishes to the heavens and you could watch as your wish reached the highest height above the water before you could no longer discern your wish from the stars. There were a few close calls of lanterns almost going into the water, but Bryton saved the day by running into the waves and giving the lanterns a second chance.

Not only did we add stars to the sky and make wishes to send to the heavens, but the owner of Lime Coral also put on a fireworks show, that was so amazing, and really close to our faces, that I was laughing uncontrollably about how this night was the best night ever. In the States, this fireworks show would have been illegal, I'm sure. Embers were shooting rouge and hitting people in the stomach, and when it looked like a firework was about to shower down on your face, that's because it really was, but who cares, no one got hurt. The fireworks were beautiful, and standing on the shore of the Caribbean with mainly strangers, sharing in this communal joy, you could feel the happiness in the air mixed with the humidity, and the warm wind of the night.

When it finally came time to judge the bikini contest, our crew rallied together with some people we had eventually meet up with. Beez, Jetsie's boyfriend, our friend Ferguson, and one of his friends formed a cheering section as close to the stage as possible. Bryton, planning ahead as always, had brought whistles to help our volume reach new heights. We cheered till our throats were sore each time Jetsie advanced, and what do you know, she won!

They actually handed her a giant check! I've never really seen one in person, it was ridiculous!

A wedding, open bar, a fancy beach club, a cover charge, floating paper lanterns, fireworks, a $1,000 prize presented in the form of an over-sized check. Are you kidding me? Where the hell were we? The party began to wind down, but we were still enamored with our setting and weren't quite ready to leave. We hung around with the other straggles, listening to the DJ that had taken over for the band who was long gone. Our friend Josh, finally off of work, came to join us for one more beer, and we attempted to relay the nights events to him, sounding like children explaining all the toys they got on Christmas day.

Eventually the realities of the next day set in, and deciding not to steal too much more of tomorrow's happiness, we biked home. At 4 in the morning. So much for a quick night of supporting Jetsie. We all looked a little worse for the wear on Sunday, selling beers on the beach again, but the high from the party helped us through.

So, I just want to say thank you to Lime Coral, all of the surfers who participated in the competition, and Jetsie for inviting us to the party that we would have never gone to otherwise. While I know the events were not intended to celebrate mine and Jahsiah's one year anniversary in the Caribbean, I couldn't help but feel like that party was partly for us. I cannot think of a better way to have celebrated.

Puerto Viejo: A Visitor's Guide

A week ago, my parents came to visit me and Jahsiah. We've had other visitors, a handful of friends who came down to see us in Puerto Viejo last summer, about 5 months after we had arrived at our paradise destination. But, the parental visit presented different opportunities.

We've been living in Puerto Viejo for just under a year now. In fact our one year anniversary of

No, this is not our parent's hotel. This is where we live!

moving to Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, Costa Rica is coming up on January 29th, the day we first moved into our Jungle Mansion in Cocles. For this visit, we knew a bit more of the area, knew more people, and had the ability to take time off work to spend the week playing tour guides. When our other friends had come to visit, I wasn't able to take time off work for financial reasons, so my friends did a lot of exploring on their own. Also, they stayed with us in our Jungle Mansion located about 3 kilometers in the jungle, so not exactly right outside of town. But, since we live closer to town now, we had the use of my parents rental car, and I was gleefully on sabbatical for one week, we decided to make the most of it and show the folks everything Puerto Viejo has to offer.

Finding a balance in Puerto can be tricky; just ask anyone who lives here or has visited for a prolonged period of time. This small town has a lot to offer, but it's easy to get sucked into a routine, a small click, a pattern of eating at the same restaurants, swimming at the same beach, and drinking the same beer at the same bar night after night. Of course we wanted to show the folks the usual hang outs, Tasty Waves, Lazy Mon, Flip Flops, but we also wanted to give them a taste of the finer things that we usually don't partake in. This world is split into things locals can afford, and things tourists can afford. After one year, we are more like locals than we are tourists, and so we needed to branch out a bit, rack our brains with activities that don't normally make the weekly cut, and really try to give my parents a glimpse into the wonder and magic that is Puerto Viejo.

You see, one of things about this place is that everything moves slowly. And witnessing some of the magic that can happen here is a matter of moving just as slowly, and being in the right place at the right time. With only week to experience this town, it can be tricky to have those remarkable experiences that make it so special. Seeing a troop of Howler Monkeys play in the trees above you, or spotting a sloth making his way from tree to tree, or having a hummingbird fly up to you to say good morning, these are things that make me love this place, but you can't book a tour to ensure you have these moments. And even if you could, there's a good chance it would get rained out the day you booked it for, or that you would wake up, suffering a bout of the dreaded Cocles Cleanse (read Montezuma's Revenge for those of you who aren't familiar with this term). Capturing the beauty of this funky little spot is about as hard as taking a picture of a blue morpho butterfly in flight; the odds are not in your favor.

But, we did our best and I think the folks enjoyed their time here, despite the rain, despite the stomach bugs, despite the heat, the mosquitoes, the sometimes painfully slow pace of life, despite the secondhand weed smoke, the rarely maintained bathrooms, the ants than can inflict more pain in a single bite than you can ever imagine.

So, the next time you have visitors in town and you're wondering how you can try and show them all the great things this place has to offer, refer to this guide as a quick reference. One thing I was reminded of, playing both tour guide and tourist during my parent's stay, was just how much there is to do here. In one week we covered the main highlights, but in reality, there a lot of things we missed out on based on weather, time of year, and other factors out of our control. Guess that means they'll just have to come back for another trip.

Things to Do in Puerto Viejo When You Have Guests, or When you Are the Guest:

The view from the chocolate tasting lounge.

• Caribeans Chocolate Forest Tour: I've done this tour twice now and I loved it even more the second time around. This has got to be one of the best things to do while in Puerto Viejo. You learn so much about the history of cacao, the history of the area, and of course you get to eat a  lot of chocolate. And I really mean a lot! The tour takes place on Tuesdays and Thursdays at either 10am or 2pm and on Saturdays at 2pm. It's such a great experience for anyone, really something that the whole family can enjoy so it's a great thing to do with anyone who visits.

• The Jaguar Rescue Center: 5 years ago, when Jahsiah and I first came to Puerto Viejo on vacation with our two friends, we ended up at The Jaguar Rescue Center, but it wasn't what it is now. Back then, it was simply a house and the couple who lived there were working to educate people on the wildlife of the area, rehabilitate animals who had been hurt or suffered some injury or misfortune with the intention of releasing them back into the wild. A few volunteers helped out and you mainly made a donation to hang out in the yard for a few hours, play with monkeys, meet sloths, and see all the snakes that live in the Caribbean. Now, The Jaguar Rescue Center is a full blown operation, doing great work in the area, and acting as a wildlife vet and invaluable resource in the area. For $15 you can experience a guided tour of the facility, which takes about 2 hours. During this time you will see monkeys, sloths, a crocodile, a caiman, all of the snakes of the area, deer, anteaters, owls, toucans, and a variety of other animals that the center is currently caring for. Actually, I don't know what you'll see, because the residents of The Jaguar Rescue Center changes frequently as rehabilitated animals are released back into the wild and new critters arrive. Either way, this a great place to learn about the environment, the animals, the impacts of humans and tourism, and support a great cause. Tours take place daily at either 9:30 or 11:30am and are available in English or Spanish. 

 

One of the many sloths at The Jaguar Rescue Center

Meet Toucy Toucy, a noisy but endearing resident of The Jaguar Rescue Center

• Manzanillo Adventure Tours: If you don't have time to take a 5 hour taxi up to Tortuguero to

  

  Getting ready to explore the mangroves after a bit of ocean kayaking.

  
  

  kayak in the mangroves, don't worry. In Manzanillo, literally the town at the end of the road, just 13 kilometers south of Puerto Viejo, you can experience a real life Jungle Cruise (you know, the Disney ride, right?). Our friend Ferguson, who we meet on that trip 5 years ago, is the owner and operator of Manzanillo Adventure Tours, a small company taking visitors on kayaking, snorkeling, and hiking excursions through The Gandoca-Manzanillo National Wildlife Refuge, a truly wild area with 10 kilometer beach strip, a 740 acre forest, a coral reef and 2 swamps. We weren't able to snorkel as the water was too murky from all the rain we've been experiencing, but we did ocean kayak, which was so much fun, down to a the river mouth. From there we went up through the mangrove as far as we could, until we reached a fallen tree that blocked our way. The water was so still and glassy that the reflection on the water looked an exact mirror image of the jungle, with the only disturbance coming from our paddles. I really felt like I was on the Jungle Cruise, but for real. The Jungle Cruise is one of my top 5 favorite rides of all time, so I was super happy, as you can imagine. Afterwards, we hiked out to the point in Manzanillo, a great look out spot, where you can look up mile after mile of dense jungle. The Gandoca-Manzanillo Refuge is just that, a Refuge, not a National Park, so there isn't the same kind of infrastructure here as in Cahuita. No visitor center, no park officials, no maintained path, so exploring this area is either a DYI affair, or you can go with Ferguson, a local guide who can help make the day that much more memorable. I can't wait to go back and play with the kayaks more. Ferguson is great as making sure everyone has fun, and pushes their limits, doing things they might not think they can. He really does make it an adventure tour. Check him out on Facebook to set up a tour. Or just roll through town and ask around, Manzanillo is only about 3 blocks by 3 blocks, so it's not hard to find people. 

  

  Sergio Ferguson, our first friend in the Caribe Sur. Our connection with this guy is what spawned this whole adventure! Thank you Ferguson!!!!!

• A Day At The Beach: This seems self explanatory, but let me elaborate. Depending on what time of year you visit Puerto Viejo, the beaches can have different personalities. If you come down in the fall, Playa Cocles is just perfect for swimming. If you come in the winter, watch out! You're not getting in the water at Playa Cocles unless your a semi-pro or pro surfer, or the lifeguards are on duty. The undertow is strong and the current is fierce. So, you have to know which beach to visit when. A good standard year round is Punta Uva, just south of Puerto Viejo, but north of Manzanillo. Punta Uva is gorgeous, the water is great for swimming year round, and if the water is clear you can snorkel right off the beach, no tour necessary. The beach in Manzanillo is other great place to lounge about, relaxing and playing in the small, gentle waves. Cocles can be a fun place to watch surfers, and the beaches in town are a great place to hang out with small kids, as the reef system off shore stops any waves from reaching the shore. When you have limited time in town, you might have to rearrange your plans when a sunny day pops up. If it's the rainy season, take advantage of sunny days to hit the beach. We only had one true beach day, since the weather was off and on, and we had so many other activities planned. 

  

  Punta Uva, straight off a postcard.

•  Cahuita National Park: Make the effort to take a day trip to Cahuita and visit the National Park. It's just a 30 minute drive or bus ride north of Puerto Viejo, and yes it's another sleepy little Caribbean town with great beaches, friendly locals, and good food. But, don't count it as redundant just yet. Every time I have walked in this park, which is now about 6 or 7 times, I have seen monkeys, sloths, birds, and other animals in the wild. Sure, you just saw them at The Jaguar Rescue Center, but now you get to see them in the wild, which really is a lot cooler. During our 2 hours in the park, which was interrupted with sprinkles on and off, we saw a troop of Howler monkeys, a troop of white-faced Capuchin monkeys, two sloths, an iguana, a raccoon, butterflies, and birds. The entrance to the park is donation based, and the bus only costs a couple of bucks, so it's a cost effective way to experience life in the rainforest. Take a day, sober up, and get your hike on!

  

  Mom drinking a CocoLoco before exploring Cahuita

   National Park.

And then there's eating. I won't bore you with the details of where to eat in town. There are so many great restaurants to try out, its unbelievable. For such a small town, you really can experience a wide range of culinary treats. Do yourself a favor, pull up the list of places to eat on TripAdvisor, and make your way down. My top picks? Malbecs, Koki Beach, Tasty Waves, Lazlo's Catch of the Day, and of course Bread and Chocolate. 

I won't go into the details on the nightlife in Puerto Viejo just yet, we'll save that for another day. But, feel free to use this as a guide for what to do with friends or family come to town. It's a strange little place, filled with odd people who have decided that this is where we want to live. I know it's not for everyone, I know a lot of people think we're crazy for trading in good roads, movie theaters, Starbucks coffee, and consistent trash pick up in exchange for spotty internet, sporadic down pours, 4am wake up calls from Howler monkeys, the chance of dengue, and seemingly random inventory at all restaurants, bars, and grocery stores, but what can I say, I love this town, and I want people who visit to love it too. Or at the very least, glimpse a bit of the magic that we are fortunate enough to experience daily.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

I thought that upon moving to the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica I would undergo an artistic awakening, elevating my status of creativity to that of Van Gogh, Jackson Pollock, Salvador Dali, and Timothy Henry. I imagined that the lush jungle, filled with vibrantly colored flowers, exotic animals, and rare and exquisite birds would inspired in me paintings and art projects of epic proportions. The drive from California to the end of the road in Manzanillo was meant to stir to life hidden talents and untouched magic dwelling deep inside my self conscience.

This was not the case.

In my old apartment in Oakland, I spent many a nights sitting around with close friends painting anything and everything we could get our hands on, but I didn't feel like I was making any art that was truly great. Night after night, sitting on the floor, re-purposing someone elses trash into useful, colorful items for my house, I still felt stifled. It was like I couldn't breath. But in hindsight, the out pour of creative energy was massive. My friends and I would sit there for hours, listening to music and creating, so many different things that the house began to overflow with items we had painted, sewn, modge-podged, cut-up, and glued back together.

I have begun to realize why I was so inspired in Oakland and can't seem to pick up a paint brush in the Caribbean. I'm happy. I don't want to make a huge generalization about artitsts, but a large majority of great art is born out of great strife. Pain, misery, discontent, frusturation, these emotions lend an edge to us, which greats a dynamic, whereby we feel the need to express ourselves. For me, being unhappy in Oakland pushed me to create, and to write. It's this same, strange feeling of happiness that has lead to my writer's block. If I'm not complaining about the state of the world, the state of my country, or my city, or the state of my own mental health, what am I really talking about? And why? Who wants to read about someone who is so damn happy?

Another identity crisis has been born out of my newfound joy. For years I have been the friend that you come to with your problems. I'm really good at listening to people's problems, issues, helping them through hard times, giving them advice on how to change their life. My ability to empathize and relate to my friends through their dark times felt like my greatest talent that I had to offer, and I believe (who knows, though I could be wrong), that I helped a lot of people kickstart the next chapter in their life and deal with some of the challenges they were facing. Since leaving behind my own angst and dispair, I feel I am also losing this talent as well.

It's not that I can no longer empathize with others about their issues, it's just that I can't relate as much anymore. When I hear my friends complaining about their problems, I feel a disconnect.

I don't have anymore problems.

Sure, some things happen, like my dog getting sick and throwing up all night long. Or rain the day I did laundry so my clothes have to stay on the line for another sunny day. Sometimes the internet goes out and I have to go to my friend's hostel to do my online work, but other than that, I have no problems. My relationship is great. My house is great. My job is great. I love my life. My family is happy and healthy. My dogs get a walk to the beach everyday. My life is good. I live in the Caribbean and I ride my bike around this whacky little town that I now call home.

The only thing I have to complain about, is that I have nothing to complain about. And so begins the deconstruction of the narrative of my life as I have known it. Growing up in the United States it seems there are always problems. Big problems, national problems, crime, unemployment, poverty, over-crowded prisons, natural disasters, political scandals, divorce rates on the rise, illiterate children, teen moms, the list of horrible problems goes on and on. So, we as individuals are conditioned to believe that our lives are filled with insurmountable problems that also need solving before the next problem arises. My existence, up until now, has been problem solving, for myself and my friends. And when a problem was so great that I could not solve it, the emotions associated with that problem spilled out in the form of paint, poetry, and passion.

I'm not saying moving to a new place will immediately solve all your problems. A new location doesn't mean all your deep-seeded issues just melt away, but it can change the narrative that you've created for yourself. I'm not endorsing running away from your problems, either. That doesn't tend to work. But if there is a life you've envisioned for yourself, and you're not living it, find a way to make it happen. Define your own reality.

Maybe it's all the sunshine down here, all the tanned, attractive people biking around in bathing suits, or the fact that it's always happy hour at some bar in town. Maybe it's the organic vegetables and chicken that I eat, or the fresh seafood. Maybe it's the hummingbirds that come and say good morning every day while I sit on my porch. Who knows what is responsible for all this damn happiness. All I know is life is good. Now, I just need to find a way to create art out of this new-found happiness and see if joy can be just as responsible for great works of art as angst is.

Have a listen to this today, and Don't Worry, Be Happy.

I'm going, going, back back to Cali, Cali!

Plane tickets are booked and my affairs are in order. Well, that's not true, I have a lot of affairs to handle before my trip home in a few weeks. I have to change my bus ticket that proves I'm leaving Costa Rica after 3 months, per the law, book my shuttle and my hostel for my two nights in San Jose on either end of my trip, and move to a new house, but that will all take care of itself somehow, I'm sure. So, at least the plane tickets are booked!

My little nephew!!!!!!

My 2 week California adventure begins in Irvine with my sister, my brother-in-law, and my new nephew! I get to meet the little guy for the first time. He was born on July 5th so he will officially be 2 months, minus 1 day old, when I meet him. So excited to hold the little guy! I get to spend one week with the little man and begin my role as Cool Aunt Liz, or Crazy Aunt Liz, whichever seems more appropriate.

After my week in Irvine, I book it to Oakland and Martinez for a week of quality time with friends and parents. I'll stay in my old apartment, which 2 of my friends moved into when Jahsiah and I left for this crazy adventure. I'll get to go through some boxes of stuff that I left behind and determine if anything is worth bringing back down to the jungle. See friends, see folks, eat food that I've been missing, and be a city girl for a few days, before returning to my funky little beach town, hidden in the jungles of Costa Rica.

I did a whirlwind trip to Southern California back in March, returning for a family birthday party, for both my Grandpa and my Aunt. I was only there for 3 days, still managed to see almost my whole family on my Dad's side, and 2 of my best friends, Kat and Joanna, who happened to be in LA for a wedding event that weekend. It was crazy and fast paced, and while 2 weeks isn't a very long trip, it's going to seem like ages compared to the 3 days I spent in California a few months ago.

Me, Kat, and Joanna, lucky enough to spend one day together back in March.

Celebrating my Grandpa's and my Aunt Marilyn's Birthdays!!!!

I'm a little worried that I'm going to feel totally overwhelmed by life in California after almost 8 months living in the Caribbean. Life moves slowly down here, there is only one road, off of which all points of interest are located. I haven't seen or heard a commercial or a newspaper in a long time. There are no homeless people harassing me on the street when I have to go run an errand by myself. No parking tickets, no stop lights, no car alarms, no Starbucks, McDonalds, Chevrons, or any chain of any kind.


I might freak out. I probably will freak out. But I'm excited for a few things that I've started to get homesick for. While there a lot of things that I don't love about California and the Bay Area, there a lot of things that I do love, and miss, so here's a little list of things I want to do when I'm home:

• Drink good beer! In Costa Rica, there is a very limited selection of beer. Imperial, Pilsen, Imperial Silver, Pilsen Frost, Imperial Light. They are all very light, and I believe they are actually all the same beer, with different labels to make you feel like you have options. I can't wait to go to a bar, order something strong, an IPA, a red ale, a porter, a brown ale, probably one of each. Something on tap, not in a bottle and sip that beer, hopefully sitting outside feeling the California sun on my shoulders.
• Sip on some whiskey. Don't get me wrong, Guaro, Costa Rican cane alcohol, has it's time and place, and doing shot after shot on a Tasty Tuesday can be fun. But man, I'm ready for a shot of Maker's Mark that I can slowly sip on while sitting with my good friends and hearing about their lives over the past few months.
• East Chinese food. I want an egg roll. Enough said.
• Sit on my old stoop. My apartment in Oakland was home for 4 years, and while I was super ready to leave after those 4 years, that stoop holds many great memories for me. Long nights with friends, watching the sun come up, talking to the neighborhood folk as they pass by at all hours of the nights, mini therapy sessions to help everyone work out the awkwardness that are our 20's, hearing the mailbox vibrate from the music that is playing from Jahsiah's old studio, admiring the garden that we built with the help of so many people. That stoop, more so than any other place in Oakland, represents home. And I want to sit on it with my friends!
• See a play at Altarena. For over 3 years I worked as the Box Office Manager for the Altarena Playhouse in Alameda. I LOVED that job! Being surrounded by people that love the arts, that are passionate about what they are doing, the energy there was great and through that job I meet so many wonderful people, too many names to list. High up on that list is Star Valdez. And it just so happens, serendipitously, that I will be in Oakland for the closing weekend of The Odd Couple. I already have a date night planned with Kat to volunteer as wine pourers and see the show one night. High Street, my old stomping grounds! Get ready, I'm coming!
• Backyard BBQ. Fall in the Bay Area is the best time of year. Summer doesn't really hit until September and October, when the weather is at it's best, which means BBQs. My friends don't know this yet, but someone is going to throw a BBQ for me in their backyard, or maybe their front yard depending on who the lucky volunteer is. I want to have a day, since I really only have 1 week and that's not a lot of time to try and see everyone I love, where all my friends can come over, hang out, drink beer, play games, shot the shit, and eat good food. All the things that we do best. I have already been imagining this day and how much fun it's going to be. SO. EXCITED.

Now, there are a lot of other things that I really want to do while I'm in California. I want to see as much of my family and friends as is possible. I want to eat frozen yogurt with my sister. I want to go to the secret, silent hot tubs in Berkeley. I want to meet Kat's new dog and take her for a walk. I want to meet Joanna's roommates and see her new apartment. The list is getting pretty long the more I think about it. But, since I'll be arriving with just a backpack, not a lot of money, no wheels or mode of transportation, I'm going to be up for whatever. I figure I'll be like a pinball, and just bounce around wherever other people push me, and that's totally fine!

When I left Oakland, I was burnt on the place. But now after so many months and my upcoming trip, I'm becoming nostalgic for certain Oakland experiences. That's one of the greatest parts about traveling, you remember to love your home again. As always, I'll be sad leaving my dogs, and this time my boyfriend as well. But I think this trip will be really good for me to gain some more perspective as to what I'm doing in Costa Rica in the first place and what I hope to accomplish in the next few years of my life. Regardless of how it all works out, it's going to be a fun trip.

So mark your calenders, California! Liz Moore touches down on September 4th in Irvine and September 10th in Oakland. Get ready!!!!!!

P.S. Who wants to pick me up from the airport?

Chocolate, Chocolate, and more Chocolate!

I have been off work for the past week, enjoying some down time while the boys I work with are on a surf vacation in Nicaragua. We spent one week doing renovations at the bar and restaurant, Tasty Waves, giving the place a much needed make over. Since Wednesday, while the rest of the Tasty Waves front of house staff have been surfing and enjoying some Nicaraguan beach time in San Juan de Sur, I have been reveling in my free time. I have slept a lot, like, a lot a lot. Most days I've been sleeping about 11 hours, which has been fabulous! I love to sleep, and I love to wake up whenever I want, not to the sound of a little phone beeping at me. But, I did decide to take a break from all my sleeping and enjoy one of the activies of the Southern Caribbean, The Caribeans Chocolate Tour.

Caribeans is a bean-to-bar chocolate and coffee lounge. It's where Jahsiah and I sell the focaccia bread that we make. The owner, our friend Paul, had invited us a while back to join him on the tour so we could learn more about his operation. The chocolate at Caribeans comes from their farm, which is behind the coffee shop, about a 30 minute walk up the road, into the jungle. We decided the Saturday, 2pm tour would work best for our schedule and we meet at Caribeans, ready to taste some chocolate. Jeff, co-owner of the Caribeans operation, was our tour guide, and the other tour members consisted of a family from Texas, Mom, Dad, and daughter Chloe. We began our walk up the hill, a bit of a hill but still nothing compared to our driveway, and we quickly came upon our first cacao tree. The fruit of the tree is about the size of a mango, but looks a bit more like a sqaush, with a ridged surface. The fruit doesn't grow in the tops of the tress like most fruit, but rather sticks out oddly from different parts of the trunk. It doesn't look at all like chocolate.

Jeff pointed out the cacao tress and also taught us about other trees we were encountering, pointed out a few poison dart frogs that we passed, and showed us where we could probably locate sloths, based on which leaves they like to eat. As we ascended to the top of the hill,with howlers monkeys serenading our ascent,  we learned about the history of cacao. It originated in South America, most likely Venezula, and was transported by way of trade up through Central America and into Southern Mexico. Cacao used to be currency and was valued higher than gold. It became the drink of the gods and the Aztecs drank it ceremoniously. It dates back to 1,500 B.C.E. and remains of it have been founded in pottery DNA in Guatemala and other locations. Based on the origins of chocolate and the likely trade routes of pre-Colombian people, the Southern Caribbean was a probable stop on the chocolate road. When we reached the summit of the hill, with a view of the Caribbean Sea (the best view I've seen since we arrived here 5 months ago), I felt a little bit like Aztec nobility, ready to drink my beverage of the gods.

The beans inside the fruit. Photo courtesy of someoneone

 else, because I forgot my camera.

Jeff showed us how the beans, found inside the fruit, are removed, by hand, no fancy machines at this farm, and placed in a hole in the ground. The hole, with the beans inside, is covered and left for 2 days to begin the fermenting process. After 2 days, the beans are stirred and moved to another hole for 2 more days. This process is repeated one more time and then the beans are moved to trays to dry. The fermenting process takes 6 days, and the drying process takes 5 days, after which you have a dried chocolate bean, which looks something like a coffee bean, but much bigger. We learned that chocolate, in it's pure form, before Hersey gets a hold of it and ruins it, is so high in anti-oxidants that just two chocolate beans is comparable to 4 cups of blueberries. That's right, I said it, chocolate is good for you!

We then moved over to the tasting deck where the real fun began. Sitting on a wooden porch, over looking the panoramic sea view, we began our chocolate experience. Caribeans grows and harvests their own chocolate, but they also purchase beans from other farms in the area that don't have their own workshop to turn the chocolate from a bean into a bar. And since the trees only fruit about every 4 months, having several sources of beans helps them keep up with demand. We sampled chocolate from Bananito, Cocles, Hone Creek, and the Kekoldi  Indigenous Reserve. Each piece of chocolate was 72% cacao and 28% local sugar cane. Each one tasted so different! Jeff had us break the piece of chocolate to listen for the different "Snaps!" that the chocolate made. Then we smelled them, took small bites, savoring each piece and describing the different, unique tastes that each chocolate had. The different tastes could be from the soil where the trees are grown, the about of humidity in the air, or differences in the fermenting and drying processes. After we sampled the 4 chocolates on their own, we were given the Caribean's version of the Aztec ceremonial chocolate drink. Pure cacao, hot water, cayenne, vanilla, and honey all mixed together, served warm in little glasses. The heat of the cayenne plus the strong chocolate instantly made me feel powerful and ready to take on the world. No wonder it was the drink of the gods and consumed regularly by those wealthy enough to afford it.

We chased our chocolate shooters with, you guessed it, more chocolate! The same 4 chocolates we had tried before, were brought again, this time in smaller pieces, along with 2 trays of herbs and spices. One tray had cinamon, cayenne, curry, sea salt, black pepper, and ground coffee while the other had peppermint, ginger, lemongrass, cilantro, oregano, vanilla, and garlic. Yes folks, that right, raw, minced garlic. We were told to take pieces of the chocolate and make our own flavor combinations. One of my favorite was the garlic and curry powder combined. The ginger and lemongrass was also really good. And I liked the vanilla and cayenne. Ok, I liked all the combinations I tried. Who isn't going to like chocolate, plus amazing spices and herbs? And, the herbs all came from the little herb garden right next to the tasting deck.

So, hoped up on chocolate, we proceeded down to the workshop to see where the magic happens. Paul built the workshop himself with the intention of doing everything as low-tech as possible so that the process can be taught and replicated to other small cacao farmers. In the workshop, the beans are roasted, just like coffee beans and then the outer shells are removed in a grinder of sorts. Once the chocolate has been sifted from the shell, it gets put in what is called a melanger. This is sort of like a huge mortar and pestle, which grinds the coffee for about 72 hours until the natural oils begin to heat up and the roasted chocolate bean litteraly turns to liquid. That's it, nothing added, no water, no milk, no other liquid, just the dried bean, ground for 3 days, and BAM! Liquid gold! At this point in the process, you can add other flavors if you like, and this is usually when the 28% sugar gets up in the mix. We got to dip spoons straight into the melanger and lick off pure, fresh, warm chocolate, a la liking the cookie dough out of the bowl, or cleaning the brownie residue off the spoon, but let me tell you Toll House doesn't have diddly sqaut on Caribeans!

Roasted beans, also not my photo, because I suck at remembering to take my camera anywhere!

With one last treat, a sneak peak at a new flavor Paul is working on, we sampled a chai chocolate bar, which was delicious, and began our descent from chocolate heaven. Empowered by all that chocolate, the walk back was quick and we made it down the hill just before it started raining. The family from Texas had a great time and the little girl got her fill of chocolate. Jahsiah, who never liked chocolate before coming here and trying real chocolate, was excited to have learned more about the history of where we are, and I was simply content to have done something other than make drinks on a Saturday afternoon. We thanked Paul and Jeff and headed to the car, wanting to get home and feed the dogs.

It was a great experience to finally go on the chocolate tour. So much fun to learn about the history of cacao, the history of the area, explore a different part of this rich land, and taste so many delicious things. If you ever find yourself in the Puerto Viejo area, you have to do the Caribeans Chocolate Tour. You'll leave feeling god-like and with a suitcase filled with chocolate bars for your friends and family back home. That is if you can manage to not eat all the chocolate before you do, in fact, return home.


**Caribeans offers tours Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10am and 2pm
                                  Saturday at 2pm
The price is $26 per person. Reservations not required but recommended for large groups or for times other than listed.

Make Room Heaven, You've Got a New Ambassador!

Last night I watched a movie which wasn't particularly good, and I can't even tell you what it's called. But there was this scene, where a woman was crying after she had left her husband who she discovered had been cheating on her. And I thought to myself, it's been a long time since I've cried like that, or been sad enough to cry like that. I mean a real emotional breakdown. As odd as it sounds, I was a little jealous. To be so sad, to shed tears and feel pain of loss means you have loved something so much, that's the only way to create such sorrow. The past six months have been so great for me, finally driving to Costa Rica, finding a beautiful house, making new friends and getting an awesome job, I haven't had a reason to be sad in quite some time; until today.

This morning I checked my email and found a message from a old co-worker of mine from my job at The Altarena Playhouse. She was informing me of our good friend Rick James' failing health. He had been battling cancer, brain tumors, for the past few years and according to his girlfriend, was nearing the end of his journey. His girlfriend was urging those who loved him to send him letters, cards, or visit him to say goodbye. This news wasn't unexpected. He knew for quite sometime now that his cancer was terminal. As I sat down an hour later to write him an email, I saw another email that Rick has passed away this morning, peacefully, surrounded by loved ones.

Rick James came to be the Ambassador for The Altarena Playhouse around the same time that I began working there as the Box Office Manager in January of 2010. He had been involved with the playhouse before, but he created the role of Ambassador for himself, helping out with front of house duties, pouring wine, getting our season ticket holder numbers up from 600 when I started to over 800 by the time I left. He had a name tag and all, and he would wear it out around town in Alameda, where he was known and loved by many through his job as a middle school teacher, his involvement at church and his general friendliness.

Rick was one of those great people to be around. Always helpful in anyway possible. Eager to lend a hand, do a favor, excited to hear your stories and tell you his. He really came out of his shell in the years that I knew him. When our theater did its production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, he came dressed in fishnet stalkings and a lab coat every night. He always encouraged his students to come see shows and rewarded them with extra credit for being involved in and attending the theater. He knew how to have a good time, he loved wine and good food. He loved the arts, music, theater, song. He loved going to church. He loved teaching and being around his students. He kept doing everything he loved right up until the end. He knew his life was coming to an end, but he lived every last moment of it, and his energy rubbed off on everyone around him.

I didn't get to write him an email telling him how much he meant to me. I didn't get to say goodbye. I hate that. I don't doubt that he knew how much I loved him. He knew he was loved by a great many people. He was a good person, a special person. It's just always so hard to know that bright lights go dim before they should.

Today has been the coldest day I've experienced since I got to Costa Rica. I woke up to the rain. Recieved the sad news, and have been spending some time looking at old pictures and thinking fondly of my time with Rick. I feel blessed to have met him, and privledged to have been able to call him my friend. I feel sorry for those who did not know him, and I feel sorry for the community he is leaving behind. The rain hasn't stopped all day and I think the jungle is crying with me, aware that a beautiful soul has left us.

I'm drinking a bottle of cheap white wine, which Rick would have hated, he preferred reds. But I know he would have drank it with me anyways. Here's to you Rick James! I know Heaven has one hell of an Ambassador!

At the Cast Party for The Fantastiks