Feliz Dia del Amor y Amistad

Saturday, February 14 - Sabado

Feliz dia del Amor y Amistad = Happy Day of Love and Friendship = Happy Valentines Day!

After my encounter with the snake.  I found it difficult to sleep.  I had all of the lights on, including the bathroom light until 10:00 p.m.  I usually spend the evening reading from the glow of one light until I fall asleep at 8:30 p.m. or 9:00 p.m.  I realized when I was still up at 10:00 p.m., with the lights blazing that thoughts of the snake entering my room  made me hesitant to fall asleep.  I finally gave in, closed the lights and my eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep around 10:30 p.m.  Each time I woke during the night to use the facilities - I turned on a light and cautiously looked around the room.  I had visions of the snake curling around the posts of my bed or curling up in the darkness of the bathroom.  Since I failed to mention the snake to anyone and I’m the only one in this part of the resort the fear was exacerbated.  

Over breakfast this morning, I described the snake to Adrian and he immediately said it was the Bushmaster - which is the second most deadly snake in this country.  It couldn’t have been the Bushmaster, he didn’t have a triangular head.  I mention it to Aura and she agreed with me, it probably belonged to the Boa family.  

I spent the day wishing all of the staff “Feliz dia del Amor y Amistad” or “Feliz dia” for short.  Everyone got a kick out of it.  I’m not particularly excited about Valentines day - it just happens to be a complete greeting in Spanish that I have mastered.  So it’s a pleasure to utilize it correctly.  Carmen, who works at the front desk, became so silly hearing me repeat it over and over again.  Juan made a fabulous arrangement of flowers for my room and gave me chocolate.  He also professed his undying love - which he does regularly.  We just have a lot of fun joking around and have done this each year I’ve worked here.  

Tonight, the hotel is full.  Luckily it’s raining so I may be saved from hearing my neighbors celebrate this day of love and friendship.    

Sun, Pineapples & Come On's

 

Sunday, February 8 - Domingo 

I have two guests this week.  Which can be more demanding than 45 - as I am the only source of amusement, conversation, English - Spanish translation.  In order to accommodate my guests - yoga has been moved to 5:00 p.m. - freeing their mornings and filling my late afternoon. 

As you know, I’ve received numerous comments on my attractiveness.  Well, now there is a new twist, Johan, the 21 year old who works in reception, offered last evening to keep me warm at night.  I smiled and thanked him.  When he persisted, I fell back on the conversation Federico and I had many years ago after Glen was fired.  “Charrito you can do anything you want with anyone you want, just not with a member of the staff”.  I relayed this enlightening piece of information, in the hopes it would sufficiently discourage Johan.  Johan listened politely, broke into a big smile and said “Guapa, I don’t work for the hotel anymore, tonight is my last night.”  Shocked, I roll my eyes, smile, reaffirm my “No, thank you” and return to my room.  Admittedly I am flattered.  I haven’t had anyone hit on me in along time, especially a 21 year old.  As flattered as I am, it doesn’t feel right.  Why is it as women once we figure out it’s okay to have sex outside of relationship, we no longer want to?   I go to bed with a smile on my face, as the rain continues throughout the evening.  Perhaps, my energy s changing and I may actually meet that special person.  

Monday, February 9 - Lunes

I woke up Monday morning to the sound of American tourists greeting each other, talking about the sunshine from their terraces.  Voices spilling throughout the upper most region of the resort.  Blissfully unaware and/or unconcerned of the effect their voices have on the sleeping senorita next door.  Breathe deeper, I tell myself, breathe deeper.  They are leaving today and you will have the bliss of peaceful quiet restored.   My room is in the upper part of resort for this reason.  The only time I have neighbors is when the resort is full, with the present economy - those days are few .  I wake, drink water and prepare to start my morning yoga practice.  As they leave, I walk on to the terrace and unfurl my mat.  Comfortable in the knowledge of my neighbors departure I embark on a rather long yoga practice.  At some point, two return to brush their teeth, check for possible items left behind.  I continue my practice.  After which I don my bathing suit and a cover up - it is Monday - my guests are going on the boat tour and I am going to the pool to soak up the sun.  The much missed, much needed sun. 

Monday is a day of sun worship and appreciation.  I manage to complete my work and spend two uninterrupted in hours in the morning sun.  I am smiling again - extolling the virtues of the sun to everyone.  As I make my way from the pool to my room through the restaurant, I encounter Johan at the bar having lunch.  He repeats his desire, obviously wondering how I cannot take him up on such a generous offer.  I graciously refuse again, reminding myself that he is half my age (okay a little more than half).  Smiling I continue on to my room.  Within minutes, Johan is at my door.  This is a total violation of hotel policy.  Then, I remember that he doesn’t work here, so he doesn’t really care.  He does his best to convince me - conversations, hugs, attempts at kissing.  I am flattered, but also in complete control on my senses.  I know nothing good can come of this and a few minutes or seconds of pleasure is not worth my pristine reputation - at least in Costa Rica.  I hear the urgings of my friends “Get a Costa Rican boyfriend, at least you’ll learn the language”.  I consider this and decide it’s still not worth it.  After a brief visit, I manage to extricate Johan from my room without hurting his feelings or compromising my integrity.  Growing up is interesting.  

Tuesday, February 10 - Martes

Tour de pina, Pineapple Plantation tour day!  I’ve arranged for the guests to have a tour of a nearby pineapple plantation on which I will accompany them.  Another new adventure.  We get in the truck and make our way with Rodrigo and Diego to the nearby fina (farm) also known as the Collin Street Bakery.  

The grounds are immense - hecters of land - unfathomable acres all covered with pineapples in various stages of growth.  We meet Miguel, our tour guide and proceed through the factory.  This is an organic farm.  Miguel explains how the pineapples are sorted  - 70% of the crop for export, 20% unusable, 10% for local consumption.  The stalk of the pineapple is removed on those designated for local consumption and replanted.  The stalk comes off with a firm twist - try that the next time you purchase a pineapple.  He explains the growing process.  Pineapples are a bromelia, which I honestly did not know.  After we tour the processing and packing plants we board a tractor and tour the plantation.  It is absolutely fascinating to learn how they are grown and to see them in various stages of growth.  

During the plantation tour I have another young man come on to me, Miguel.  Although he is probably a year or two older than Johan he is definatly not as smooth.  He has been calling me Guapa throughout the tour.  Now, he sits next to me and says “I know you are older than me, you are really attractive now - you must have been very attractive when you were younger.”  and proceeds to ask me out.  I honestly can’t remember what he said after “younger” - my mind froze.   The best way to describe it is like listening to your favorite record (hell, he already implied I was old, might as well use the age appropriate reference) and all of the sudden the needle scrapes across the record and the music violently ends.  That is what happens when my mind freezes.  I manage to maintain the smile on my face, but words fail to form in my mouth.  My head is busy processing at lightening speed - “ younger, attractive.  Suddenly I am old, I don’t feel old, I should be offended, I know he didn’t mean to be offensive.  What the hell is he talking about?  How dare he? More attractive when I was younger, what’s wrong with the way I look now, what’s going on, say something”.  I can’t, I just keep the smile glued to my face.  Miguel doesn’t seem to notice, he is trying to ascertain if I will go out with him.   “How long will you be in the country?  Will you go out with me?  I’d like to take you out.”  he says.  Somehow I manage to stay gracious and provide my contact information - despite the fact that I am offended and complimented at the same time.  My mind continues to twist “you must have been really attractive when you were younger” around and around in my head.   

We leave the finca and stop at a fruit and veggie stand on the way back to the hotel.  I am desperately trying to find kale or some other dark leafy green.  The hotel has tried unsuccessfully to get these items.  I find it difficult to believe they are not available and decide to shop for them on my own.  The store has many local items, variations of mangos (at least 4), squash (3) and other fruits and veggies.  The easily found lettuce (one kind that is unidentifiable to me) and typical vegetables - broccoli, cauliflower and cilantro all in the refrigerator.  There isn’t a dark leafy green in sight or an alternate form of lettuce.  I pick up a couple of different mangos, empanadas con guava, and butter cookies.  Still reeling from the younger comment, I feel comforted when I notice a bakery and purchase a big chocolate covered donut!  Consoling myself with the comfort of different food.  As I bite into the donut the word younger evaporates from the recesses of my mind.  

I return to my room in the late afternoon to find several large cockroaches and flies dead on their backs, legs sticking up in the air.  The housekeepers haven’t cleaned, so I am unable to take a rest as I know they will be here shortly.  I’m not sure why there are dead insects on the floor, I gather my things and proceed to the office.  On the way I am stopped by the gardeners who tell me in Spanish, that I can’t go to the office right now because the fumigators are here.  Ah, the dead cockroaches makes sense.  After reception is fumigated, I head to the restaurant with the rest of the staff.  The fumigators follow us.  We all run down to the open pool area and watch the plume of smoke puff out of the restaurant.  Apparently they fumigate several times a year.  That is one of the reasons they sent me to Tortugero in 2006, so I wouldn’t be in the hotel during fumigation and repairs. 

During the night I awake to a strange sound outside of my room.  I’m the only one in this part of the resort.  The hotel is relatively empty and I had to fight off cobwebs, which form quickly as I made my way to my room this evening.  The sound alarms me and I wonder where the night guard is.  I listen closely and realize it’s a rogue horse - eating the vegetation.  For a brief moment I irrationally fear that he’ll push through my door.  I steady my breath, talk myself out of it and hear the horse move on to more vegetation.  I drift back into sleep.   

Wednesday, February 11 - Miercoles

Adrian is back.  Adrian has been splitting his time between here and a restaurant he has opened in Jaco - on the Caribbean side of the country.  We decide to leave the hotel for lunch.  Since it’s my free day - I’m thrilled.  I actually get to leave the property in a vehicle and eat different food.  It’s too much to hope for kale, but shrimp cerviche sounds promising.  

Adrian, Marcello and I drive to a roadside restaurant in La Virgen.  On the drive Adrian is talking to me while I look out the window at the passing scenery.  I’ve been on this road before, but I love to look at houses, people and way of life.  There are so many photo opportunities - but I don’t want to ask him to stop.  During the drive, he looks at me and says “Charrito, you don’t care where we go.”  I say “No, Adrian, I don’t.  We could just keep driving.  I’m just happy to be here, to be out, to be looking at something different.”  He says “I know, I can see.  You are so happy.  It is nice.  It is a pleasure to see you so content.”  When we finally arrive at the restaurant, I am the only gringo, which attracts the usual amount of attention.  I used to think it was the shorts - but it’s the gringo.  There is no way to hide that - so I comfortably embrace it and speak Spanish to the best of my ability.  We start lunch by speaking in Spanish - but my accent wears on them after a while and we switch to English.  Lunch is fabulous.  Shrimp cerviche and sopa de mariscoes, seafood soup.  The soup is loaded with seafood, large pieces of fresh fish, muscles, clams, langostino, crab.  Absolutely delicious.  

After lunch Adrian takes me to see his property.  He recently sold his house and purchased a vacant lot in La Virgen.  The lot is large and overlooks the river from very high ground.  It is the last lot on the street with spectacular views.  No one will be able to build and obstruct his view.  The ground is high enough so that if the river floods it will not effect his property.  There is a wonderful breeze.  He tells me his plans to build several apartments and install a swimming pool.  Adrian knows he cannot live without other people around.  Building the apartments will provide an income when he retires as  well as company.  It’s a very wise purchase and decision.  He tries to talk me into purchasing the land across the street.  It’s a fabulous location and he says it’s cheap.  I don’t ask how much, for fear that I may want to buy it.  

We stop at another finca, close to the hotel to check on Adrian’s horse.  In order to get into the property, Adrian has to move the bulls that are sitting near the gate.  It’s a funny site, watching him move the bulls.  I pull the car through and we drive deeper into the property - there are 15 cows blocking the next gate.  Adrian gives up and tell’s me to park there.  We walk through the cows and the gate, by some pigs, chicken and roosters.  Then I hear dogs.  Ugh!  Dogs without fences and we are in their property.  They come running and barking and Adrian walks away from me.  I yell at him and pick up my pace.  I tell him not to leave my side, I’m not crazy about dog.  He laughs.  He introduces me to the owner of the farm as his nubia, girlfriend.  We all laugh (Adrian is gay).  Diego, the owner, is attractive and very nice.  They talk for a while in Spanish, I understand some of the conversation.  Diego breeds cattle to produce a certain kind of beef that is famous in this region.  As it is explained to me - the beef is very tender because the land is level - so the animals do not develop hard muscles.  I nod my head and act like this is fabulous.  This farm borders the Sarapiqui river.  During the earthquake, it overflowed ruining one of the houses and a garden.  It deposited large amounts of mud and then receded and kind of rerouted itself leaving mud where the river used to flow.  It’s very sad.  

As we walk over to meet the woman who is taking care of his horse, he tells me that Diego told him “Adrian, she’s very beautiful, but don’t make a change like that - it’s not easy.  She’s very beautiful”.  We laugh and I tell him that Diego is very attractive.  Adrian looks at me and says “He’s gay - that’s how he knew the change is difficult, he knows me.”  I’m surprised and a little disappointed.  Rosetta, the woman who is taking care of Adrian’s horse,  shows us the damage to the house she used to live in.  There are inches of mud covering the floor - the horse is not usable.  In order to get there we had to walk over saturated muddy ground on temporary steps bearing the words Chiquita for the banana company.  

Diego show us the kitchen he is working on.  It is gorgeous.  A North American kitchen in the middle of a farm.  Complete with custom made wood cabinets, a vent for the large American stove, a cut out for a full size refrigerator, granite counter tops, custom built shutters and doors.  The kitchen would have overlooked the garden with the river in the background.  Now, it looks onto mud.  It is the most beautiful kitchen I have seen in Costa Rica. 

Adrian has had enough of driving, so it’s my turn to drive back to Sueno Azul.  I have to drive around the cows, as they are young cows and won’t move.  Then Adrian has to get out of the vehicle and move the bulls.  I’m comforted when he tells me he doesn’t like moving the bulls.  Apparently my fear of them is a healthy one.  After all of that, I drive up a steep hill directly on to the main road.  Luckily no vehicles were coming in either direction.  We try to purchase a pipa, cold coconut, but the roadside stand is out.  He has homemade liquor but no pipas.  We stop at the mini-super pick up a few things and return to Sueno Azul.  

As I catch up on a few things in the office, Johan calls.  He asks me out for Friday.  I agree.  As soon as I hang up the phone, I wonder what the heck I am doing.  I console myself with the fact that at least he has called on Wednesday for a Friday night date.  

Friday, February 13 - Viernes

Despite the fact that I have re-arranged my schedule, taught two yoga classes instead of one to accommodate our guests and my date - I’ve decided not to go out with Johan.  The whole idea is just too ridiculous for me.  I’m flattered by the attention, would love the opportunity to get off the property.  I like the idea that I may actually learn Spanish - but I don’t think this particular opportunity is my best option.  Johan is a river guide, and river guides are notorious in this country for sleeping with the tourists.  North Americans, especially blonde North Americans have a reputation for sleeping with the locals.  I’m really not interested in that and don’t feel it’s my responsibility to debunk the reputation of all North American blondes.   

Johan calls, Aura answers the phone and he won’t ask for me.  He knows Aura is my friend, so he says he’ll call back later.  I go on about my day.  Stopping in the mid afternoon to read yet another book on my terrace.  As I sit there in the quite, I hear the sound of an animal nearby.  I slowly get out of my chair and look over the partition.  I expect to see a caimen.  At first, I don’t see anything.  I keep looking, the sound has stopped.  I de-focus my eyes knowing I’ll have a better chance of seeing whatever it is if I can change my perspective.  As soon as I manage to take in the whole scene, I see the source of the noise.  It’s a rather large snake, possibly a boa, making his way around the building next door.  I’m fascinated.  He is moving over dried leaves and the weight of his body crossing the leaves made the crunching noise that drew my attention.  I watch as his body disappears into the ground or the structure.  A few minutes later, I hear the noise again - he is making his way back.  He is beautiful, about 5 feet long and I can tell from his coloring not fully grown.  The markings on his eyes are striking.  The color is condensed in the middle to end of his body - indicating he still has a lot of growing.  He disappears beneath a mound of earth.  A few minutes later he’s back, crawling towards the building again.  This time, he heads to higher ground, which is what I am on.  I can’t bear to watch anymore, I go inside grab a glass of water and when I return he is no where to be found.  Tonight I am more cautious when I leave my room, enter my room and walk out onto the terrace.  I have been walking onto the terrace and spending time in my room in the dark, tonight the lights are on and I carefully survey the terrace each time I walk outside.   

Saturday, February 14 - Sabado

Feliz dia del Amor y la Amistad!

   

  

Rain

Saturday, February 7 - Sabado

6:06 p.m. 

It has been raining non-stop for 5 days and nights.  Extremely heavy at times with slight pauses, not stopping.  Everything is swollen - the rivers, ground, even my hair.  Ah, my hair, which normally accommodates every type of weather always looking fabulous, is tired, full and frizzy - unrecognizable even to it’s owner.  Rain seeps through the walls in the conference room.  A line of water appears seeping down a support log, forming a puddle at the base.  More water seeps through the opposite wall, wetting the chairs and blankets stored nearby.  Terrace roofs and the walkway coverings begin to leak.  A deep chill accompanies the rain - we are all cold.  The guest rooms do not have glass in the windows, only curtains serve to resist the chill.  The doors gap at the frame, a brillant design for warm and humid weather, designed to allow air flow, allow the chill to enter.  Everything is damp - the bedcovers, passports, clothing, paper, money, even the burlap applesac which serves as the MacBook case.  

The guests are wearing their coats and sweaters, staples in the North.  A requirement for transition from their climate to this one.  Never expected to be worn in the typical Central America climate, now begin to appear on each and everyone of them.  I am envious of their coats and find myself wishing I had listened to my insight upon packing.  The one that told me to pack at least 3 long sleeve shirts, a jacket, a fleece and my old stand by, warm yoga pants.  The instinct I surpassed with reason and knowledge, telling myself ‘It’s Costa Rica, you always bring those items and never wear them, you won’t need them, you are just confused by the cold weather in Florida’.  After all these years, I still allow reason and logic to override instinct on occasion.  Each time, paying the price and relearning the lesson for a period of time.  In the absence of warmer clothing, I make a note to purchase a unitard, warm socks and stow them in my luggage for every trip - even to St. Barth’s.  After several failed attempts at warmth, I resort to my limited sailing knowledge and become creative with my clothing.  I don full underwear, long thin cotton pants tucked into socks, a sport bra, long sleeved thin cotton shirt tucked into the first layer of pants, nylon hiking pants over the first outfit topped with a long polyester bathing suit coverup.  Amazingly all of this matches and I top it off with a cotton camisole as a scarf.  Finally I am warm.    

Everyone is still bright and cheery, although the rain is beginning to take it’s toll.  As the guests board the shuttle, they thank me and attribute the success of the week to me!  Which shocks and astounds me, for I think the success is due to their bright spirits and lack of complaining about something that is beyond our control.  I step back, and realize that although there has been dense cloud cover for a sky since Tuesday and we haven’t seen a ray of sun, there has been the effect of sun emanating from deep within my solar plexus.  I felt bright and sunny and have managed to convey that throughout the week.  Everyone leaves with a smile on their face.  I will miss them, I always miss them - it’s part of my lesson - learning how to give and receive without attachment.  Missing, well, that’s just part of the process.  

At lunch, the chief, Katalina and I warm ourselves over the flat top grill, which is fed by a propane fire.  We place our hands above the grill and rub them back and forth.  I am chillier than they, I warm my face and arms as well.  I even turn my backside to the grill for warmth while I extend my legs underneath the grill.  The heat feels soothing.  I wish for a warm place, but realize there isn’t one in Sarrapiqui.  The houses don’t have heaters, most spaces are open.  The only enclosed spaces are malls at least an hour away.  I spend most of the day in the warmth of my glass enclosed office.  I don’t have any work - we only have two guests arriving.   I gaze off at the dense cloud covered sky and wonder when I will see the sun.  The lagoons are full, the river is wide and rushing, the earth which should be saturated is taking in all of the water and looks as if it could continue for days to soak in the abundant rain.  I miss the sun.  I can’t imagine a season of non-stop rain. I mentally toy with the idea of leaving, fleeing to a warmer climate - if only it was that easy.   As if reading my mind, Aura assures me this will end and it will get warm.  She is amazed that I am so cold.  After all, I’m from the North.         

Alone on my terrace, I watch the day give way to night.   I notice individual clouds moving quickly across the mountain top.  Not many, but enough to indicate that the dense covering serving as a sky may be willing to give way to smaller clouds, allowing ray’s of actual sunshine to filter down.  As I make this realization, the rain begins to slow, the sound of the rain is replaced by the visual evidence of sprinkles on the surface of the lagoon.  The cacophony of the night begins.  Insects, birds, frogs, and other assorted animals making their presence known  Bringing with it the realization that I’ve heard nothing but rain, holler monkeys and the occasional Toucan since Tuesday.   As the cacophony strengthens it renews the sky’s furtive promise of sunshine.   

Sunday, February 8, 2009

1:35 p.m. 

I woke this morning to the sound of American voices.  The rain, which continued throughout the evening, has paused.  As annoying as it is to listen to loud tourists at 7:00 a.m., the fact that I can hear them clearly indicates the rain has paused.  As I prepare for the day, I feel that it is warmer.  The steam from my extended morning shower seems to fog the mirror in the entrance hall as well as the one in the room.  I don one layer - pants and a short sleeved shirt, ventilated hiking shoes sans socks and a three quarter length sleeve sweater.  I add a scarf - just for good measure, in case it’s the shower that has warmed me, not the air.  As I walk to breakfast, it is noticeably warmer.  The scarf must go.  The dense cloud cover remains indicating there is more rain to come.  Apparently the individual clouds from last night were just a tease or perhaps an indication of things to come.  

As the morning progresses, I am shed the sweater, keeping it nearby.   I return to my room for a mid morning break and notice the remnants of Clearwater Beach sand in my hiking shoes.  I sit and stare at the mountain surrounded by green glory, remembering the peace of the beach.  The thought is enough to lift my spirits and renew my faith that it will be warm again - the rain will stop.  It is warmer and the shoes need to be traded for flip flops.  I carefully remove the shoes, look at the sand on my feet and without brushing it off transfer into flip flops.  Taking a physical piece of Clearwater Beach with me through the rain forest.  

The temperature is increasing along with the humidity - the doors are swelling and difficult to close completely.  All of the mirrors are covered with fog from temperature change.  The rain continues off and on with the off periods exceeding the length of the on periods.  The river has receded at least five feet, leaving the debris it has carried on land.       

Tour de Bote & Writing

Monday, February 2 – Lunes 

8:44 p.m.

The writing workshop is fabulous.  I am learning so much.  Chief among the lessons is the opportunity to witness the vast differences in writing styles.  It’s amazing how 13 people can interpret the same directions so differently.  Each of us has a form of expression that may or may not be of interest to the others, but from which we are able to learn, grow and become increasingly comfortable with as well as aware of our own writing styles.  I never really understood the purpose of a writing workshop.  I mean really isn’t it something we just do naturally - we write.  Now that I am in one, I can’t believe I haven’t taken one before.   I marvel at the level of creativity that emerges from seemingly ordinary people - people you would pass everyday on the street and not even begin to imagine how expressive they can be.   

Part of the workshop is reading our works out loud in front of the group.  It’s a very supportive environment and there are no wrong answers or writing.  The reading a loud provides an opportunity to hear my work anew and receive immediate feedback.  We also journey in our workshop and on the very first journey I came back to write a piece of fiction!  Yes, fiction - something unlike anything I would normally read let alone write.  My theory has always been that my life is close enough to fiction so I don’t have a need to draw from the realm of imagination.  If I were to actually write the details of my life, it would be published as fiction or a memoir because no one would believe it was a true story.  The fiction piece is interesting because it deals with terror.  It flows easily without thought.  When I start thinking how it ties in or how to make it better or word it differently the flow ceases.  I have learned a new way write - one without thought.  One which demands the words go to paper.  One that promises to reveal a story of it’s own if I merely put the words to paper without looking for meaning or a theme. 

I accompanied the group on the tour de bote.  The boat tour of the Sarrapiqui.   This is my first opportunity to view the river since the recent earthquake.  I have heard stories about the color of the river, the debris in the water.  I am prepared, I do not expect to see the same Sarrapiqui I have come to know over the years.  As we arrive, things are different again.  Costa Rica is known to me as the country where nothing really remains the same.  I think I would be shocked if everything was the same from one year to next - as it has changed each time I visit.  The dock is actually a concrete dock with a wide platform, sturdy stairs and a handrail.  Gone is the ricitdy assemblage of wood, that made getting to the boat an adventure in and of itself.  The boats are the same and Ricardo our guide is there to greet us.  As we prepare to embark on our tour, Ricardo begins to talk about the trees.  I immediately start wondering if there will be any animals as Riccardo has never spoken about the trees before.  

 The normally calm current is brisk.  The level of the river is high.  Gone is the relatively clear calm peaceful water.  It is replaced with rushing water the color and density of coffee with milk.  The current is so strong I wonder if the boat will be able to navigate with it’s usual ease.  I can smell the earth and feel the sadness in the river.  The source of the sadness eludes me.  I don’t know if it’s the sadness of the people and animals who lost their lives to the shifting earth.  Perhaps it’s the sadness of the people who depend on the river for a living or of the animals who lost their favorite feeding, sunning, resting spots.  It could be the sadness of the earth - for having shifted for changing the banks and complexion of the river for which this part of the country is named.  There is a deep sadness, one which reveals itself repeatedly with every deep, earthy breath. 

The usual cast of characters are present - the holler monkeys, sloth, iguana, long nosed bats, poisonous dart frog, iniga, egrets, king fisher and caimen.  Each one is smaller than what I usually see.  I wonder how is that possible.  What happened to the larger animals?  Wouldn’t the larger animals have been the ones to survive?   Perhaps they fled.  Perhaps the larger animals were the only ones who were able to flee.  

The tour is a success, Riccardo is wonderful.  It is always a delight and a joy to see him.  When he gets to the part about the backyard bananas, I laugh to myself as I remember the first time I took this tour.  I honestly believed Riccardo gathered those bananas from his neighbors back yard specifically for us!  I believed this with my entire being for several weeks - until Glen, the other Omega representative, told me it wasn’t true.  I remember my disbelief and disappointment as the truth of the matter began to register, Riccardo didn’t actually climb into his neighbors backyard in the dead of night and risk getting caught.  He simply went to the store.  

                                                                                                         Tuesday, February 3 - Martes I have roommates.  Some of which I am happy to see and gladly share my room with like the gecko.  Others which I prefer to not deal with but accept like the cockroach.  Then there is my repeated guest, who is not welcome, but keeps coming back, the large jumping spider.  I have managed to capture and move him back to the wild twice.  I must say, my experience in Costa Rica has made me a professional or almost professional spider catcher.  I was a little rusty the first time and the spider lost two of his legs.  The second time was a complete success.  I am hoping that I will not have to continue the process of removal and wonder if the electric spider repellent my mother gave me many years has ceased to function.  After all, having to remove a spider twice in three nights is not a usual occurrence. 

Wednesday , February 4 _ Meircoles

2:04 p.m. 

It rained all night, heavily at times.  I awoke this morning to the sound of horses galloping through a pause in the rain.  I drink water and fill containers with Kangen water, as a pause in the electricity accompanied the one in the rain.  It is my day off - dia libre.  I unfurl the yoga mat on the terrace and settle into a blissfully long yoga practice.  Practicing on my free day, to adopt the local expression, is especially sweet.  Gone are the constraints of time.  The practice becomes luxuriously long, followed with a Yoga Tension Tune Down, courtesy of Jill Miller speaking directly from my MacBook.  As my practice draws to a close I hear the familiar beep of incoming mail.  Could this day get any better?  Internet reception on my terrace, a stash of tea, hot water pot and raw almonds in my room.   I laugh and smile to myself at the delicious thought of spending the entire day alone in my room.  I drink more water, make tea, take a handful of almonds onto terrace and begin checking in with the world from the comfort of my yoga mat.  

The electricity holds, but the internet recedes as the pause in the rain lapses  It begins to rain so hard that I fear the guests will not be able to take advantage of their full day excursion.  Horseback riding, zip line, cascades, natural pool, butterfly garden, leaf cutter ants and an authentic Costa Rican meal under the expanse of a beautiful pavilion await them.  The rain continues, heavy at points.  My worry increases, the bliss of spending the day alone without human contact is slowly replaced by the awareness that I should go and check, go and see, to ensure.  We have gone with larger groups in worse rains before, but some of the hotel staff is new and I’m uncertain if they know to contact me for questions.  It is my dia libre.  Reluctantly I dress as  I wait for the staff to knock at my door.   Contingency plans are made in my head.  Tea in hand, computer on my back I make my way to Reception.  

My shoulders relax as I realize the guests went on their day long adventure.  After all it is the rain forest and rain is part of the excursion.  In four years we have never cancelled an excursion for rain.  I settle into my office for a morning of checking in with the world.  Checking on things specifically for me.  The rain continues, heavy at times.  The chill increases.  It’s 50 degrees in Florida today, 18 in Alabama, I don’t even bother to check the weather in New York.  I wonder if it is warm anywhere.  Why didn’t we, as a people, pay attention to global warming before it was too late?  Where do I have to move to be warm?  Consistently warm throughout the year.   Random thoughts continue to enter and leave my mind.  As the rain grows heavy I begin to fear for the happiness of my guests.  They have been horseback riding and zip lining in non-stop rain.  They are scheduled to go rafting.  I check the river, according to Marcia, one of the guests, it has risen 15 feet in two hours.  The river is thick, full, rushing and brown.  I wait.  I know I can cancel the rafting if I deem it unsafe.  I also know the rafting company will cancel the rafting if they deem it unsafe.   For many reasons, it is much better if the local knowledge cancels the trip.  I sit and watch as the river expands in width and the current increases.  I begin to imagine the guests rafting - it wouldn’t be so much rafting as sliding down the river.  A 45 minute raft experience decreased to a terrifying 15 minute thrill ride at the rate the river is flowing.  I see branches sail by.  The rain doesn’t appear to be stopping - the horizon, which I have learned to read over the years, indicates it will continue to rain for the rest of the day.  

The staff from Aguas Bravas is at the hotel and they want to speak with me.  I feel bad for the guides.  Up until 45 minutes ago, we were rafting - they had called to confirmed. Hungry for business, the rafting company has offered to provide transportation to and from the rafting experience.  They have lost so much this season - their prime rafting river due to the earthquake, and a significant amount of business due to the downturn in tourism.  Now they are here to advise me it is not safe in the hopes that we can reschedule.  As Adrian said ‘When America has a cold, Costa Rica gets bronchitis’.  We discuss the options, they offer to accommodate any period of time I can carve out of an already packed schedule.  We settle on the next day at 1:00 p.m..  

My guests return, soaked and ready to raft.  I corral them to tell them the news, and fear they will already be upset with the early portion of their day.  As I begin to speak I notice that despite the rain and the chill - they are thrilled.  Each one has a huge smile on their face, their eyes radiate bright light each one is beaming and full of life.  There is a small groan, but total understanding as to why they can’t raft.  The light ignites anew when I tell them it is rescheduled.  Nothing can dampen their day, for they have faced their fears and throughly enjoyed themselves today.  The beauty that is Costa Rica prevails even in the heavy rain.  

Welcome!

Saturday, January 24 -  Sabado

1:00 p.m. 

After greeting Rodrigo, I greet Christain and join the group of women who are on their way to Sueno Azul for a Womens Yoga and Art retreat.  It feels great to be back in this country, back home.  Christain is happy to see me and tells me all about his education in tourisim and how much he enjoys his job.  I marvel at the ease with which the Costa Ricans speak to me - about their lives, dreams, desires and realities.  I listen intently and thank God for these opportunities to interact with others in complete and total honesty.  

After Christain and Rodrigo load the luggage onto the Coaster (the vehicle used for the shuttle), we all board.  I take my usual seat up front, while Christain gives a little speech to the women.  As I realize he will not be joining us on the drive, I offer to provide additional information as we travel to Sueno Azul.  Christain picks right up and says “Oh, yes, and she speaks Spanish”.  I am shocked as well as flattered that my hotel Spanish is now passing for Spanish.  I smile in agreement.  Rodrigo and I communicate in our way and manage to convey our mutual joy and pleasure at seeing each other.    Throughout the journey, the women ask questions and I answer, feeling like I am already working - although I have just gotten off a plane as well.  I impart my Costa Rica knowledge - what town we are in, this is the National Park, this is the only tunnel in Costa Rica, etc. throughout the journey.  The women become increasingly dependent and when we stop for lunch they ask me to order for them before we disembark the vehicle.  I take a deep breath and explain that the menu will be in English - they’ll be fine.  

Post lunch, everyone is more relaxed and we board the Coaster for the remaining 30 minute ride to Sueno Azul.   

4:00 p.m. 

We arrive at Sueno Azul and I am the first one off the Coaster.  I head directly to Aura’s office.  Everyone happens to be around.  I am greeted by Aura, Dona Haydee, Don Federico, Adrian, Joaquin, Katalina all at once.  Hugs, kisses, greetings all in Spanish, with the exception of Aura and Adrian.  Everyone is thrilled and excited.  I am complimented repeatedly on my appearance.  “Charrito - you look so good” is the basis.  I say “Thank you”, all the while thinking ‘all I did was cut my hair and drop a few pounds’, but the compliment chorus continues and becomes specific, complete with hand gestures.  Remember, all of this is taking place in Spanish AND I UNDERSTAND!  “You are so skinny, your butt is higher, your skin is better, your hair looks great, you look much younger, you look 10 years younger.”  The final revealing comment comes from Dona Haydee “Where did you have your surgery?”.  My brain ceases to function as I realize that I have changed a lot - it’s not just my hair.  THEY think I’ve had plastic surgery!!!  To them, this is not uncommon and does not seem to carry the stigma that it does in the United States.  Dona Haydee has had several surgeries, although she refuses to admit it and simply says “I just don’t eat”.  We know that she has had surgeries not only from the fact that she spends months in Nicaragua and comes back looking dramatically different - but because the massage therapist has verified the surgery marks!  As my brain tries to process this information, reeling not only from the attention and the stigma but from the fact that I don’t think I look that different.  Afterall, it’s me - I live with myself everyday.  I remember feeling the change when I dropped the weight in August and seeing the change when I cut my hair in August and again right before I left for Costa Rica.  I certainly don’t see or feel a change that resembles plastic surgery, nor did I expect a greeting of this magnitude.  The compliments continue, I am padded, poked and caressed all while being complimented in Spanish.  

I regain my composure and manage to convey that I did not have surgery.  I tell them I drink a lot of water - that’s it.  As Aura gives me the final translation - just in case I missed anything - she explains that I look very different, much better and they are convinced I’ve had surgery.  She wants to know what I have done and how I look so different.  I explain that I changed what I eat, I cut my hair, I exercise everyday and I drink a lot of water.  I don’t tell her about the Kangen water, not yet.  Then we both look at each other and I say half as a statement, and half as a question “The massage therapist is going to check me for surgery marks.”  She looks at me, gives me the knowing smile and shakes her head ‘yes’.  I roll my eyes and smile.  I make arrangements to spend the next day at Aura’s house so we can catch up. 

As I am walking to my room, I am greeted by Juan Rameriz, he works in the garden and makes fresh flower arrangements for my room.  He is a very attractive flirt.  We have flirted with each other for years - harmless flirting.  Juan is totally taken by my appearance.  As a matter of fact, he doesn’t recognize me immediately, I have to speak before I am recognized.  He is impressed, thrilled and says I look much younger and much more attractive.  On the walk to my room, I am greeted by Sulay, the massage therapist, she also doesn’t recognize me until I speak.  She is shocked and tells me I look much younger - 10 years younger!  This is Sulay, who looks amazing!

This continues throughout the beginning of my visit.  Everyone I meet doesn’t recognize me immediately, they wait until I speak to call me by name and then they tell me I look much younger “mas hoven”.  Victor, the night guard, thinks I look 20 years younger.  Actually he teases me and says, “Donde Charrito?” Where is Charrito? as I am sitting right next to him. 

I spend the rest of the night in my room, unpacking, settling in.  Since I had the perfect lunch of cerviche (raw fish) and pantacones (tostones - fried green bananas) I don’t feel the need or have the desire to join the guests for dinner.   

Sunday, January 25 – Domingo

It has been raining all night and is still raining in the morning.  I want to spend the day at Aura’s, I had planned on walking, but I’m not sure how I am going to get there in this rain.  I spend the morning on the internet, in my office, eating breakfast, saying “Hola”, checking out the hotel.  Finally around 12:30 p.m., I call Aura and she offers to come and get me.  

Aura and I have developed a lasting friendship.  We travel together when I am in the country, go out to dinner, spend time at her house and we maintain contact via email and facebook throughout the year.    As we drive to her house she tells me how everyone is talking about how much younger I look.  She says they are convinced I’ve had surgery and Dona Haydee has instructed the massage therapist to look for the surgery marks.  She emphasizes that is what everyone is talking about.  Of course, she wants to know what I have done differently.  I explain about my diet and water and she doesn’t believe me.  I finally tell her about the Kangen water and how it changes the acid/alkaline balance of water and that it’s better for your system.  She’s unsure of this - but likes the explanation better than diet and exercise.  We spend the day catching up - just sitting in her house talking.  Joaquin comes home and says “I am so happy you are back in your home (meaning both Costa Rica and their house)”.  

Monday, January 26 – Lunes 

I am sick!  I was so chilled last night I slept fully dressed with socks and a scarf under two comforters in Costa Rica!!!  I am beginning to think I’ll have to move even further South just to be warm.  It rained all night, hard and loud!  Apparently I have contracted the Costa Rican illness ‘Gripa’ as a result of all the rain.  When it rains frequently for extended periods of time, it is accompanied by a chill (not one Northerners would feel) and an exponential increase in mold which can result in Gripa - a throat irritation that manifests with constant coughing and mild congestion.  The Gripa clears up with the weather.  However, if it continues to rain nightly, the Grips reoccurs with ease.  This is my first year contracting Gripa, I am officially a Costa Rican.  The Costa Ricans deal with this much better than I.  I feel awful!  I am rarely sick so I don’t deal well with being sick and I start to imagine a lifetime of impaired health - which doesn’t help with the healing process.  Gripa or no gripa I have a meeting with Don Federico and Adrian today.  

11:00 a.m. 

The meeting went well, as does setting up my office, ordering supplies planning and prepping for the opening.  Things are going so smoothly, I just wish I felt better.  I continued to be complimented on my appearance.  I just wish I felt as good as everyone seems to think I look!  I have requested a few food items.   So far they are only able to secure raw almonds.  I miss rice milk and Earl Grey Tea.  I also miss romaine lettuce, kale, spinach and dark leafy greens.  Luckily I brought rice protein powder and Greens + powder with me, so I can still make my daily protein shake.  

  

                                                                                                     Tuesday, January 27 - Martes                                                                                                                                                                          

11:00 a.m

I slept under two comforters again last night.   I am still sick and starting to wonder if I will ever feel better.  Rationally, logically I realize I will be healthy again - emotionally I feel I will always be sick.  Sickness consumes or depletes a massive amount of energy.  I spent the morning drinking water and getting ready for the day in a very slow and lazy pace. 

 

As I am making my protein shake, Perla, who has known me as long as I have been coming here - asks in front of Katalina, and a new member of the restaurant staff “Charrito, what have you been doing to look the way look.  Tell me exactly I want to know.”  The surprise of her statement shows in my face and I ask “Do I really look that different?”  “Yes - you look 10 years younger, healthier, you are thinner”.  I explain the change of diet, increase exercise and increase intake of water.  She says “no more bacon?  eggs?”  I laugh because I have actually forgotten what my eating habits were like.  I tell her I haven’t had bacon since the last time I was here.  She asks what I eat in the morning, I explain I drink a lot of water, follow that with raw almonds and fresh fruit.  Later if I am hungry I have a protein shake with Rice milk at home, with water here because we cannot find rice milk.  At home I eat a big salad with many different greens and for dinner usually vegetables.  They are still perplexed.  She asks again “So, no more fried eggs with bacon and cheese on bread?”  I say “I haven’t had that in months - but it does sound good.  Perhaps a little once in a while - but not as often as before.”.  Afterwards Katalina and Perla approach me and tell me that if I want something special to eat - just tell them and they will make it for me.  

2:00 p.m. 

After a significant amount of rain, it is finally sunny.   I am starting to feel a little better.  I’ve made arrangements for a massage at 5:00 p.m. - hoping to get the rest of this illness out of my system.  I am so tired and long to be in the sun.  I take my work with me down to the pool and promptly fall asleep fully dressed in one of the lounge chairs.  

6:30 p.m. 

The massage was fabulous.  True to form I was checked throughly for any evidence of surgery.  Regardless of laying on my front or back - there were points when the towel was not covering any part of my body.  I hope they don’t mistake the closing navel piercing as a surgery scar. 

Wednesday, January 28 – Miercoles

11:00 a.m. 

I awoke feeling a little better today.  I was able to sleep with just one comforter.  But the illness is still draining my energy.  After making my protein shake, Matt and Evelyn from the Trapeze stop me.  They want to know what I am drinking.  Matt launches into how much better I look and wants to know what have I done.  I explain the input/output changes and as I am starting to wonder how bad I looked last year that everyone feels compelled to comment on it this year, he says “Not that you looked bad last year.  It’s just that you look healthier, younger, more fit.”.  I thank him for the clarification.  He invites to swing on the trapeze with them when they practice.  I am appreciative for the offer - but don’t think I’ll be flying on the trapeze this year.  

Later, back in my room I stare at myself in the mirror.  Today might not be the best day to look for changes, to see what everyone else sees.  I’m tired, it’s raining again and I’m still perplexed by this out pour of appreciation  for my new look.  A look I thought consisted of a haircut and a few pounds lost - one I didn’t even imagine anyone would notice with the exception of the hair.  All of these comments in a short period of time make me wonder anew how any of us are able to fully see ourselves at all.  This is the premise of one of the first workshops I taught at Omega entitled “Yoga from the Inside/Out”.  It speaks to how we are not in our bodies and how it is a miracle we are able to see ourselves at all given the distortion in the mirror, the effect the environment and our mood have on our perception.  Funny that I stand here looking in the distorted glass through my clouded vision for changes....changes that I just can’t see, at least not today.    

Aura explained to me in a brief moment - that I do look different.  According to her, my skin is not as dark with spots.  I was beginning to look old with soft facial skin and it was sagging - that is all gone, the skin is firm and smooth with a nice texture - my waist is my narrow and I am more trim.  The specifics amaze me as well as provide the foundation for something to think about and look for in the mirror - perhaps overtime I will understand.  

Thursday, January 29 – Jueves 

6:30 a.m. 

I awake to the sound of holler monkeys after a night of hard driving rain.  Sometimes it rains so hard I wake in the middle of the night in a slight panic, irrationally wondering if the roof will hold.    It’s impossible to describe the amount of rain and the accompanying sound.  Finally I feel better, closer to my old self.  I start my morning in the usual way, plenty of water.  Then, strap on the sneakers and head out the door for a nice long walk.   Since it’s my first morning out this trip I decide to stick to the road that leads to Sueno Azul.  I am surrounded by greenery, flowers and the occasional horse.  The air is clean and clear and I am reminded of one of the many reasons I love Costa Rica.  I follow the walk with stretching on the foot bridge over the rushing river and stop in the restaurant for a plate of fresh fruit before heading up to my room for a little yoga on the terrace.   I spend the rest of the morning relaxing on the terrace with water, tea and fresh fruit.  I am like a child, filled with delight over my surroundings, the peace of the day and my health.   

9:00 a.m. 

I decide to take advantage of the peacefulness and stretch out on the bed for a little bit before starting my work day.  Don Federico has other plans for me.  As soon as I lay down on the bed, Mareanella from the Lavendaria knocks on my door, wishes me a good morning and tells me that Federico would like to see me.  So much for relaxing, I get in the shower and prepare to start my day. 

5:00 p.m. 

I leave the hotel with Aura and Joaquin for dinner at San Che Cha’s.  I cannot bear the thought of attending the Rodeo (tonight’s event) so early in the season and decide it is better to venture in to town to see my friend San Che Cha and have some real Costa Rican food. 

It feels great to be back and San Che Cha’s, my favorite Costa Rican restaurant - not so much for the food as for the way I am treated.  I greet Dona Nice - she is pleased to see me.  Aura and I sit at the counter and order ceviche (raw fish marinated in lemon juice with cilantro) and pantacones (you should know what these are by now). papaya con leche for Aura, guanabana con agua for me .  We are testing the cerviche before we order more.  Joaquin, who is playing some kind of video game, will eat this order.  Aura’s and my palate are a little more discerning - we prefer ceviche that is made early on the same day - not freshly made cerviche or cerviche from the day before.  I am excited to see San Che Cha.  We ask for him, but he is taking a nap.  

The food is delivered - the ceviche doesn’t pass Aura’s taste test.  She makes a face so vile I rush to hand her a napkin.  The pantacones and natural drinks are divine.  We sit and talk while I look around and appreciate that I am once again in this country.  San Che Cha makes an appearance and he doesn’t recognize me.  This is getting confusing as well as old.  I have spent a few minutes in front of the mirror several times a day trying to see what they see.  I don’t see it and I don’t understand it.  I desperately want to be recognized before I speak, like always.  I smile, he still is uncertain - he looks at Aura, he looks at me - it is obvious that he is not comprehending.  I remain smiling, although my heart is a sad, and finally say in my poorly accented Spanish “San Che Cha!”.  He looks still not comprehending and Aura says in Spanish - “it’s Charrito”.  I finally speak again and the recognition is there although the confusion on his face has not left.  He hugs me, and begins to study me - comments about my appearance - thin, so pretty,  different, very beautiful.  The awkwardness of the moment passes and things are just like they always were.  We talk and laugh and catch up.  We order more food, although I am not that hungry and have difficulty deciding what to get.  Joaquin joins us after winning the equivalent of $ 10.00 on the video game.  It rains off and on very hard.  When the rain is heavy, the sound of it hitting the metal roof drowns out all other sounds - conversation, television, traffic - cease to exisit audibly but remain visually.  I sit back, smile and take in the experience of being surrounded by friends, content, well fed, dry under the protection of the roof as I observe the slowing of traffic, television without sound and Costa Ricans continuing about their business as nature makes it’s music naturally. 

7:30 p.m.

Aura and Joaquin drive me to Perla’s father’s house (the local taxi driver) so he can take me back to Sueno  Azul They call ahead and let him know that I need a ride back.  I know Perla’s father, he has driven me back to the hotel several times each season.  He has given me updates on Perla when she was pregnant and we have had some interesting, language challenged conversations.  He doesn’t recognize me either!  I get in the car, we drive a little bit and he asks me my name.  Once again I am really crushed and offended.  I do not reveal this - after all there is a language barrier.  I say “Charrito” and wait.  It registers and he is shocked.  “Oh, Charrito” -  we converse awkwardly due to the language difficulties.  As we near the hotel he asks me again (he has asked me this every year except last year) if I have a husband.  I answer, ‘No, no husband’, and save him the rest of the questions, “No children and no boyfriend”.  This time he cannot contain himself.  He explains (suddenly his English is much better) that he is married and proceeds to launch into “you are a beautiful woman, you are nice, you are sweet, you are smart, I do not understand why you do not have a boyfriend/husband.  What is wrong?”  I thank him and launch into a Spanish/English answer about traveling, not staying in one place for very long and that it is difficult to meet a man when I am always traveling.  He doesn’t like the answer and says “Perhaps this time in Costa Rica you will find one”.  

Friday, January 30 – Viernes

7:00 a.m. 

I decide to incorporate a grounds inspection into my morning walk.  Federico has built tennis courts and I need to see them before I give orientation on Sunday.  I would also like to walk the hills and since it has been raining all night it is actually cool this morning which is a great time to walk the hills in the sunshine.   I head out on the dirt and rock road that is used to run horses and trucks behind the main property.  As I get to the last room before heading up the hill there is a rogue horse to my left.  I am turning right.  I stop and look at him.  He looks at me.  I turn right and he starts to follow.  I pray that he will head back towards the rooms because I don’t feel like being alone on this hill with a rogue horse.  He turns the other direction and I am grateful.  I check out the tennis courts - they are coming along nicely and return to the path.  As I head down hill enjoying the peace of the morning and the challenge of remaining upright on this rocky road, I hear the gallop of multiple horses behind me.  I turn to look and there are 25 horses running at full speed in my direction.  No one is leading them.  I know from experience that someone is driving them from behind and cannot see me.  I am on the downward side of  the rock and gravel path hill, it is surrounded by tall, lush greenery on either side.  No one can see me and the horses are coming quickly.  I start to run and quickly realize I am not going to be able to out run these horses on this path!  I actually laugh to myself, stand still in the middle of the road and realize I have to do something they are getting closer and they are not slowing down.  I take a deep breath - stop laughing, check for snakes and other animals and jump into the greenery on the side of the road.  As I look up the horses are 6 feet away and running directly at me - I’ve picked the lower side of the greenery and they like to run on it when possible because I guess it feels better on their hooves than getting rocks stuck in their shoes.  There is no time to change sides.  I’m not sure what to do so I start waving my arms - kind of like you would if you were stranded on an island and needed to  flag down a plane.  It works and the horses veer to the other side.  They are really moving.  I am feeling a little ridiculous waving my arms - so I stop.  The horses start running at me again.  I move further into the greenery and they are merely brushing past me.  I’m not sure if I’m breathing.  I think I am holding my breath.  I’m not really scared, perhaps I’m shocked, perhaps I’ve just surrendered to my experience of Costa Rica and know that if I do my best - I’ll be taken care of, or perhaps it’s just too damn surreal to even register in my head.  After all it was peaceful when I started out - no one was around except that rogue horse.  As the person who is driving them comes by - he looks at me and I say “No le guista” (I don’t like).  He says (in English) “I 2:00 p.m. 

I am scheduled to go rafting today.  Due to the recent earthquake, we are no longer able to raft the Sarapiqui River.  The river is unsuitable, or as they say here unusable, for rafting for a least a year.  I am told it is the color of coffee with milk, there are dead, rotting trees along the banks and debris continue to float in it’s waters.  We have changed rafting companies as well as rivers and as the Omega representative, I must take the rafting tour to ensure it is suitable for our guests.  I requested the inspection during the meeting with Adrian and Federico on Monday.  Johan - one of the new members of the Reception staff, has made the necessary arrangements and invited a good percentage of the staff.  We are scheduled to raft the Chirribo River with Sarapiqui Outdoor Center.  This is a different company and river than the one I was given in the meeting.  

I meet with David Duarte Soto, the owner of Sarapiqui Outdoor Center.  He provides the necessary insurance and operation certificate and explains the details of the tour and the river.  He seems nice enough, but becomes defensive when questioned. . I realize that I am partial to Adventuras de Sarapiqui, the former rafting company, and am having difficulty accepting that we can no longer raft the same river we have been rafting for years.  So I make a mental note of David’s behavior, but don’t give it to much attention.  I am also still feeling a little sick and know that spending any time in the river always makes me feel worse - so I am not looking forward to this inspection, despite the fact that it promises to be a more exciting experience.  River rafting ranges from a Class 1 (clam waters) to a Class 5 (rough and raging water).  The Sarapiqui was a Class 1, 2.  The Chirribo is rated a Class 3.

Before we leave, Adrians asks me to correct the grammar and spelling of the post rafting evaluation form David has developed as well as the release form.  The release form has so many mistakes and is written in pseudo legal jargon that it takes a little while to correct.  I’m also beginning to wonder if Sarapiqui Outdoor Center is a professional operation.  At my request, Aura and Diego are accompanying me on this tour.  At Johan’s invitation so are Matthew, Evelyn, Nobo, Arturo from the Trapeze; Luz from Reception; Ricki, an American Chiropractor that seems to be hiding out here; and a guest from this week.  Sherry, who no longer works at the hotel, drives us to the “put in”, located near Roberto’s Restaurant.  This is a very different set up than what I am accustomed to.  The point where we will enter the river is in a yard that is used for trucks.  It has been raining a lot - there are deep muddy tire tracks and the Chirribo is fed by Rio Susio (Dirty River), which is a river full of minerals.  The Chirribo looks a lot like Rio Susio today.  So much so that I get the two of them confused.  As everyone else disembarks the vehicle, I am hit with this overwhelming feeling that I cannot go on this tour.  The sense of knowing is so strong I am momentarily paralyzed - face is frozen and breathing halted.  I can feel deep in my solar plexus’ that I should not go on this tour today.  I am momentarily torn between my position as the Omega representative and my personal safety.  I am here to do a job and feel the weight of my responsibilities, however I have worked long and hard at honing my instincts and they are all screaming at me not to go.  I make the only decision that seems right for me - I decide not to go.   I know that it is fine for the other’s to go - but it’s not right for me.  Sherry agree’s to take me to Roberto’s while I wait for someone from Sueno Azul to pick me up.  Aura and Diego do not question my decision, all of the North Americans protest. Saturday, January 31 – Sabado

9:00 a.m. 

I have given up walking and practicing yoga before going to work.  Since I walk a lot during the day, I have modified my morning exercise to yoga on my terrace.  I’m still not 100% better, my morning practice helps to center the day and to relax my upper body.  Thanks to Kangen water system and the newly purchased hot pot - I can spend the early morning hours in my room, drinking water, practicing yoga followed by more water, almonds and tea.  After a shower, I head off to the dinning room for fresh fruit and I’m ready to start my day.  

Today is arrival day for the first Omega guests.  I have a busy day ahead setting up the classroom, organizing the information table and making sure everything is in place for our first guests.  Due to the nature of the economy our total numbers are down 65% from usual.  Registrations are still coming in, but the numbers are so low Omega is offering specials.  $100 off for you and 50% discount if you bring a friend.  The price of flights are also at an all time low - so it’s an excellent deal.  Despite the promotion, the first week of workshops has been reduced to one workshop with 12 participants and 7 R&R guests.  Our first week is usually 45 guests in three different workshops.   

8:00 p.m. 

At their request, I join Don Federico and Dona Haydee for dinner. The arrival has gone smoothly and everyone is happy.  As I sit down, Haydee asks Federico to tell me the following “I know I have told you this several times already, but I want to tell you again because I want to make sure you understand.  You look very beautiful, relaxed, at peace, you have a wonderful energy, a glow, a light that comes from deep inside, you are content.  You seem in balance.”   I am grateful and thank her.  They are so proud of me, like parents.  Federico wants me tell him exactly what I have done - so he can do the same!  We laugh.  They want to know what I have done since I left in April and why I came back so late.  Why didn’t I come sooner - what was I doing that I couldn’t come sooner.

We talk about the changes in the hotel, there have been many as there are every year.  Most notably the hotel is more organized and the staff seem at peace.  Federico and Haydee are considering taking the workshop with Robert Moss this week.  Since it is about writing, I think I will take it too.