Home, Sweet Home

My Apartment!

My Bathroom (completely equipped with cold-water shower, sink, toilet and cockroaches!

View of my apartment from my back yard.

View of my backyard from my bedroom. The roofed structure in the back is the "bodega" where we often hang out at night and cook big meals over the fire (see below for night time view).

Alexandra flipping through a "Health Sciences" textbook from the US from the 80`s (she loves looking at pictures) with Pedro, while Zinia fries fish for dinner.

Angelic Alexandra (who looks just like Gina when she was a baby)!

Host family (Zinia, Pedro, Ms. Mischief!)

Did I mentioned I moved?? Well, I moved... March 1st.

After I got back from my stay at the clinic in San Jose (the capital city) I moved in with a new host family! Not due to any dislike of my previous hosts, but due to fear of my daily commute. I was spending an hour a day on a rickety bike on a shoulder-less two lane highway, which serves as the sole access for Dole's 18-wheelers coasting along at 7mph, to and from the banana plantations. Problematic? Only if I wanted to live to see my 26th birthday.

A brave biker on the highway at sunset.

I am now living in Chilamate, and bike 5 minutes to and from work along the highway. I live in an apartment (comprised of the bedroom and bathroom pictured above) behind the house of my new Tico family.

Now, time for introductions:
Alexandra, the beautiful, spoiled angel of almost 2 years.

2) Pedro, the father, who works exhaustive hours at the local saw mill during the week and mows locals lawns (with a weed-wacker and a machete) on the weekends.

3) Zinia, la mama, cooks, cleans, launders, grows much of our food and cares for the loud little devil all day.

They have a son of 20 years, Alejandro who lives in the nearest town with his girlfriend and two month old son. They had another daughter, Alejandra, Alejandro's twin, who died three years ago of brain cancer. There are photos of her all over the house, and Zinia cuts a fresh rose for her lost daughter and places it in a vase by the kitchen window first thing every morning.

They are all very silly and laid-back and fun to talk to. Dinner is the best! I get to share my embarassing cultural mishap story of the day with them. Why is it that strangers lauging at me is so draining, but the family laughing at me is refreshing?

That's all from here.

Write me and tell me what you're up to!

I'm still a little lonely, here.

Miss you.

Talapia (soon to be dinner).

Visitors!!!!!!!

VISITORS!!!!!!!!!
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Katie Pastorious came down to visit Ian Ritz (who works as a journalist in Playa del Coco) and me and we all spent the weekend exploring the beaches and bars along the NW coast of Costa Rica.

Romina and Marina... (see Nicaragua trip entry)

Flat Aliza (a traveling journal doll) came to visit all the way from Massachusets (via Texas and South Africa). The 4th-6th graders at Linda Vista (my Wednesday school) were very excited by her visit and we are working on making traveling journals as well!

In March my Mom and Gary came for Spring Break and we traveled from Chilamate (my home) to Monte Verde cloud forest and on to Playa Samara on the NE coast of Costa Rica!!!!!!!!!

Panama City

Pile of tourists at MiraFlores Locks of the Panama Canal. Panama.

Boat from china passing through the MiraFlores Locks of the Panama Canal.

Hello all!

I’m back!

I know, I know, you were probably worried sick. I guess I did leave rather abruptly, but I had to exit the country to renew my visa. Law says visitors can stay here for up to 3 months, but must leave for 72 hours, and can only re-enter paradise if in possession of a ticket to exit the country again. This is to prevent too many gringos from settling here. Too bad for the Ticos that wealthy Gringos, who are buying up the waterfront on the nicest beaches here for vacation and retirement homes, have figured out how their bodies can stay planted in their mansions in front of their flatscreens while their passports pass bodiless, across the border for the obligatory 3 days. Oh, the things money can buy.

But enough about ghosts, I walked over the Costa Rican border into Panama, in the flesh, at 4 am last Tuesday morning and spent the week in Panama City. On the excessively air-conditioned over-night bus from capital city to capital city, I met up with a Scotsman and a Dutchman and over the hours we argued politics, cursed each others cultures, exchanged stories, and laughed a lot! In PC we shared a stinky sweaty room in the hostel and spent half the night rolling around giggling in our bunks, and probably would have been up the whole night but the people next door told us to pipe down; it felt like the first few weeks of college. We spent the next few days touring the city, country side and beaches with a private Canadian escort (friend of the Scotsman) and sleeping (for free!) in his posh apartment in the fancy suburbs.

View of the Panama City skyline from posh apartment.


On Saturday I lost my companions to the call of the open sea (they took boats southward) and spent the day wandering alone through the "old town". The site is a waterfront of tragically beautiful ruins of old mansions left over from the US and French occupations of the country, surrounding plain-old-tragic looking ruins of apartments which are currently home to thousands of Panamanians.

"Municipality of Panama" trashcan on it's side, overgrown ruins, water, high-rises. Panama.

Tourists and bike vendors. Panama.

Some boats, abandoned docks and apartment buildings at low tide. Panama.

I don’t have any descent photos of these newer buildings or neighbourhoods, because I wasn’t aloud anywhere near them. Police on bicycles and horseback guard every corner of the tourist areas, stopping people from crossing certain streets (poor Panamanians and tourists alike). The closest view I got of the poorer residential areas was from the window of the Canadian's LandRover. I saw kids playing "bola" (soccer) in bomb-pocked ruins of buildings taken out by U.S. arsenal during the 1989 invasion of the city. Odd that “gringos” are not exactly welcome in these neighbourhoods.

Peeling paint in "Casco Viejo" (old fort).

The wealthy, touristy areas of the city were hot, ugly and crowded with people, shiny, poorly constructed casinos and expensive stores full of foreign products. I had a great trip but I didn’t like what I saw of Panama.

The country side, too, was ugly: burned and barren. Completely stripped of living things, and replanted with rows of who knows what. gross.

Urban Panamanian nature preserve. Eat your heart out, Minneapolis.

A farm... or something. Out the bus window. Panama.

Now I’m back.
Somehow, this place seems more beautiful than when I left.
Hope you’re all well and loving where you’re living!!!!!!!

Still missing you.