Ma and Pa Mathern Invade Costa Rica

I don´t quite know where to start...my parents left Thursday morning after 10 days here in Costa Rica. Not sure they would move here permanently, but I got the distinct impression that they would have loved to have spent more time. In two weeks, they saw nearly everything that has taken me almost three months to see. I´ve written this posting twice (and deleted it twice) as it´s hard to accurately capture all the experiences we shared. I decided to go with the vignette-style posting...not necessarily in chronological order. To get the details, you´ll just have to get them straight from the horse´s mouth (although you could also ask my mom or I).

HIKING UP AN ERUPTING VOLCANO

We started our trip with Volcano Arenal in the Northern Central Valley of Costa Rica. The view from our hotel was like nothing I´ve ever seen before. During the day, we hiked along a trail that took us close enough to the volcano that we could see (and hear) rocks being spewed out of the crater and exploding on the hillside. At night, the rocks exploded in fire and the resulting pieces glowed for as long as fifteen minutes afterwards. Definitely worth the trip.


WHAT ARE THOSE STRANGE LINES IN THE ROAD?
We took a scenic tour through Monte Verde on the Costa Rican equivalent of the Oregon Trail (I think the map labeled it as a ¨country road¨ but ¨cow path¨ would have been more accurate). I found myself loosening up behind the wheel a little bit...driving like a Costa Rican (or ¨Tico¨) means that you drive at nearly twice the speed limit, pass multiple cars at once regardless of the lines in the middle of the road, and honk the horn incessantly. I was just getting used to this style of driving when I got pulled over. The cop asked if I was aware that it was illegal to speed and pass someone on a double yellow and I admitted that I was aware of that. I pretty much explained that I was "estupido" and that my parents were going to kill me when they found out I was going to get a ticket. He told me that I´d earned myself a $40 ticket at which point I indicated that it would take every ounce of my energy to keep from fainting at hearing this. In the end, he dropped the ticket to $4 and sent us on our way. However, the Ticos got the last laugh. I lost the ticket and ended up paying $13...$3 for the ticket, $7 to find a new copy, and 30% tax because...I don´t know...just because.



DAD GETS FRIENDLY WITH A CAYMAN
We woke up at 5am on Tuesday (after a 12am bedtime...a direct consequence of our night-time turtle hunt that you can ask the horse for details on) for a three-hour canoe tour through the jungle. When we finally found a cayman, the tour guide told my dad it was ok to touch it. Now, for those of you who don´t know my father, he has what is scientifically known as ¨Walleye Vision.¨ Ok, actually, it´s "macular degeneration," but it means that he has little sight other than his peripheral vision. (Just a sidenote...over the years, this has proved to be EXTREMELY humorous for the family. Dad getting on buses that lead to the extreme opposite end of town, speaking sign language to one of his hearing sons, or eating heaping spoonfuls of sour cream thinking it was mashed potatoes.) Anyways, when the tour guide told my dad he should pet the cayman, all my mom and I could imagine was him sticking his hand directly into it´s mouth or poking it in the eye or something. The pictures above explain the situation well. The first shows him spying the cayman intently. I liken it to a five year-old staring at a glowing-hot stove. At some point, the cayman decided it would touch dad before it was the other way around...the second picture is my dad´s reaction as the cayman jumped out of the water, knocking my dad´s hand away in the process, and scurrying up the enbankment. It was so funny...I think we laughed for a full five minutes before we remembered to check to see if he still had all his fingers.

Long story short, we had an amazing time. Lack of food and sleep led to some interesting debates (such as the reason that there is a lack of businesses accepting credit cards) and more than once, we were physically unable to stop laughing. When you talk to my mom, ask her about doing the zip line tour and about Costa Rica having the world´s largest rats. When you talk to my dad, ask him about stamping out "dangerous egrets" and grabbing entire sticks of butter with his bare hands.

Thanks so much for coming, Mom and Dad. I had a fantastic time. (I probably spilled the beans on a couple family secrets above, Dad, but at least I didn´t tell everybody that Mom rubbed that guy´s arm on the boat to Tortuguero for a full two minutes before realizing it wasn´t you.)

Who needs Spanish if you have sign language!?

Well, my parents have made it safe and sound...we're currently killing some time before going on a canopy tour (zip-line between trees through the jungle). We're staying at a really cool hotel at the base of Volcano Arenal...absolutely spectacular. Both Mom and Dad strained their necks yesterday in the car...there's so much to see and I think that they must have figured that if they whip their heads from left to right fast enough, they wouldn't miss a thing.



One lesson that I wouldn't have learned if it weren't for my dad is that Costa Rican's don't understand sign language. He knew that they wouldn't understand his English and I had told him that a lot of people just talk louder if they're not understood the first time. Realizing how ludicrious this would seem to someone that didn't speak English, he rationalized that perhaps the opposite would be true. To all of our surprise, speaking softly in English while using sign language is no more effective than speaking loudly in English. Thanks, Dad!

School buses are surprisingly nimble!

Hello from Bocas del Toro! I flew here yesterday (more on that in a minute) after spending most of the past week in Panama City. I didn´t expect much out of the city...all the other Central American cities I´ve been to have let me down. I was pleasantly surprised this time, however. Panama City has a vitality that I haven´t noticed in other places on my trip. I found dingy street markets as well as malls where everyone wore designer labels and the stores included names like Gucci, Armani, and Luis Vuitton. There are taxi cabs that look as if they were salvaged from the bottom of a lake as well as BMWs, Mercedes, and expensive sports cars. Beggars wearing rags for clothes are being passed by men in Italian suits. Truly a city of contrasts.

One thing I found particularly adventurous was the bus system. There's really no central "city bus." People have bought old school buses from the US (I know this because one that I rode in had bus rules posted...rule #2 was "give the bus driver the same respect that you give the teacher in the classroom" and rule #7 was "no smoking") and modified them in interesting ways. Most are repainted in bright colors with elaborate airbrushed detailing. Some make excessive use of hood ornaments (I counted 12 on the hood of one bus) and some even have plastic fins on the roof that resemble giant shark fins. The drivers are something special...I don't know how they are hired, but I think the test likely covers yelling loudly, excessive use of the horn, swerving through traffic at high speeds, and stomping on the gas pedal repeatedly. It's quite an experience, to say the least.

I decided to make my way to Bocas del Toro, a series of islands in Northeast Panama, and elected to skip the bus for once and fly. The plane was pretty small...15 or 20 seats...but there were only 4 of us on board. I had visited the Panama Canal a few days before, but the view from the plane was unbelievable. I could see ships lined up ready to pass through the locks and some transiting the lake that exists between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The pilots were obviously unamused...as soon as we took off, they put shades up over the windows in the cockpit. It kept the plane cool, but it was kind of interesting looking in the cockpit and seeing two pilots screwing around, unable to see out the windows. I guess I should have foreseen that when I got on the plane and the pilots weren't wearing shirts. (Just kidding.) They took the screens down to land...I'm guessing because they didn't want to hit any of the children that were walking and playing alongside the runway (not kidding). I guess you could say that airport security is a little more lax here than in the States...

I'll spend two or three days here in Bocas lounging on beaches and snorkling, then head back to San Jose to meet with my parents on the 3rd. They're coming for two weeks and we're planning on visiting Arenal, Dominical, Tortuguero, and anythnig else we happen upon in-between. It's going to be a great time...my dad has never ventured beyond Mexico and I firmly believe in the "baptism by fire" method when introducing people to new cultures. I'm not sure how much time he's spent in the past riding donkeys and picking coffee, but it should be fun to watch from the comfort of the air-conditioned car my mom and I will be traveling in.

I wanted to take a second to thank my friends and family for their genuine interest in my health and safety. For instance, my brother Marty said he's really excited to have me come to parties this summer...since I've been sprayed with pesticides, he says he won't have to buy the expensive Citronella candles. I know there are more of you out there thinking the same thing and I have only one request: just invite me to the party and let me think it's because you enjoy my company. I don't need to know that I'm being used as either insect repellent or a night light.

I'm permanently mosquito proof!!!

If any of you have ever crossed an international border in an airplane, you know that it can be somewhat of a mess. The lines are long, people don´t have much patience, and the inspections officers really don´t care that the immigration desk isn´t your only place to be for the day. A few of you likely understand first-hand what I´m about to explain...how the process works when traveling by bus in Central America.

I crossed the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border with someone who had been through the process before and even then, it was intimidating. But I figured, for some odd reason, that doing the same thing between Costa Rica and Panama would be a breeze (or at least a repeat of some of the things we did in Nicaragua). The only shared experience I could see between the two border crossings is this: it´s complete chaos.

As the bus approached, I decided to wait for a few minutes until about half the people on the bus had departed. That way, I could follow people around and get the basic idea of what to do. Great plan, in theory. When we arrived at the border, everyone got off and immediately scattered. Figuring I´d wait for the other half of the bus, I looked back and realized they had gotten off the back door and were also gone. I don´t mean milling around...I mean GONE. So, I did what anyone with my language skills and traveling experience would do. I froze. Eventually, a young kid came up and asked if I needed help. I figured the worst he could do is pick my pockets while I wasn´t looking, so I said yes and proceeded to follow him. Here´s a basic idea of what happened:

1. We go to Costa Rica desk and ¨clock out¨ of the country. I knew this one...I was just testing him.
2. Follow boy to Panama desk #1. Arrive three steps behind him as he takes a slip of paper from the immigrations officer and quickly walks past you in the other direction.
3. Walk a little more quickly to catch boy who has (for all I know) an important piece of paper that I need. Stop with boy at Panama desk #2.
4. Boy says it will be $5. I refuse, but official-looking woman behind desk informs you that it's for the Tourist Visa. Hand boy $5. Boy hands $5 (under close supervision) to woman. Receive visa in return.
5. Boy takes off skipping. Gringo skips behind boy. Boy stops at woman #2 at office #3 which happens to be a running car. Boy requests payment of $1. Gringo refuses but is then told by official looking woman #2 that it's payment for stamp that validates visa #1. Gringo pays, but is relatively certain he just bought a two cent postage stamp for $1.
6. Boy gallops off...back to desk #1. Gringo catches up and gets in back of line...proceeds to wait fifteen minutes in sweltering heat. After approaching desk, gringo is informed he needs to show proof that he has $500 on his person to enter Panama. Boy is surprised Gringo is so stupid, but decides to help anyways. Proceeds to lead Gringo back to bus.
7. Bus driver informs Gringo the only way in to Panama is to show proof of $500 cash on person or buy a ticket back out of the country. Gringo buys return ticket...boy brokers deal and likely makes a nice commision.
8. Boy runs away from bus, back to desk #1. Gringo, tired of the process, walks directly to the front of the line, hands official all papers in his posession, and scowls at said official. Passport is stamped and Gringo is handed more papers.
9. Boy smiles at Gringo. Gringo interprets this as the cheetah smiling at his weary prey. Gringo stands a little taller and smiles back.
10. Boy leads Gringo to inspection line and tells Gringo to take everything out of his bag. Gringo does not comply. For once, Gringo wins...inspection officer decides not to search luggage.
11. Back at the bus, boy asks for money...Gringo gives him $2. In the end, the boy really was trying to help and was likely just smiling at the Gringo's apparent lack of brain.
12. Rather than get on bus, Gringo decides he needs a candy bar...proceeds to nearest Duty Free shop. While in line, he notices a large red bus driving by...decides he better get on before it leaves. Jumps on before it gets too far down the road...sweaty...no candy bar...but is relieved to see most people had gotten off at border. Takes a prime seat next to window and opens window...what a luxury!
13. Just as window is opened (all others are closed on the bus at this point,) bus goes through car wash...Gringo is sprayed in the face with organic disinfectant, designed to stop the transmission of Costa Rican insects. Gringo acts as if it never happened and drip-dries on bus. After 30 seconds, Gringo falls apart laughing.

I made it safe and sound. I reached the end of the bus line and found a hotel. Hope to get up tomorrow with a renewed sense of adventure and hit the road. For now, however, I' m sticking close and am thankful that I made it this far.

Life is an Adventure

Hola from Manuel Antonio! I'm writing this from the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica...I'm finished with school and, as I remember doing after graduating from high school, now it's time to be irresponsible and lazy. I'm thinking that I'll quit my job and be a beach bum. I've found, over the past month, that this is what I'm best at. No reason to fight fate, right?

Before I continue, I want to clear up some things.

1. I've had a LOT of people write me emails and say that they're unable to post comments to the blog. I honestly haven't a clue as to the cause of this, but if you're one of those people, just know you're not alone. Rest assured that I know that, since no one is posting comments, that no one really cares that I'm thousands of miles away. I get it. (Just kidding.)

2. I've also been told several stories about people who have said to themselves "If Patrick can do what he's done, then I can have a little adventure, too!" For this, I have nothing but praise. You should all quit your jobs and travel to far off lands. When you do, please email me the position that you're leaving as well as the HR director to whom I can email my resume. The more of you that I can talk into following my path, the better chance I have of not moving in with my parents for an extended period of time (I love you, Mom and Dad, but let's be honest...you don't want it any more than I do.)

3. I've lost the ability to upload photos. Not sure exactly what's going on, but hope to resolve it soon. Until then, you're gonna have to use your imagination. For instance, right now, I'm writing this on the back of a large orange elephant on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is blowing my blonde locks back, I'm holding a crystal ball high over my head in one hand, and I'm wearing nothing but a loincloth. In fact, I imagine you really wouldn't want to see the pictures at this point anyways...

The past week found me tying up loose ends in Heredia. I finished school and now have 96 hours of formal Spanish instruction under my belt. I'm pretty impressed at what I was able to accomplish in that amount of time...I'm now able to go to any restaurant or store and competently ask if anyone is able to speak English. Ahhh...the beauty of a bilingual population.

Last weekend, I took a trip to the family farm in San Carlos. The family I lived with (the Delgado Gonzales family) owns a large plot of land that they're renting out to a couple of ranchers who are raising cattle. It's pretty much like any farm you'd see in the States, except for the jungle filled with palm trees, toucans, and more species of poisonous snakes than any other country in the world.

Fun little story...I've got a little bit of farm experience (by little, I mean more than just driving past a farm on the highway, but less than enough to consider me anything other than a city boy on a farm) and was given the opportunity to show what I knew. We were hiking in the jungle when we noticed that the cattle were on the wrong side of the fence. Someone had left the gate open and, I'm making an assumption here, I don't think the cattle had the proper identification on them in the case that they were stopped by the police. Therefore, I volunteered my services to help round them up and get them back to the proper grazing area. While Fabian ran to get help, I took it upon myself to gather the cattle in one area so we could then drive them through the gate (the location of which I was not aware at the time).

Well, when the hired hand appeared, he had a bucket in his hand and decided to walk right into the middle of the herd, at which time the cattle quickly dispersed, rendering my previous work worthless. He picked the bucket up again and set it next to the gate, continuously calling the cattle as one would a household pet. When this didn't work (to noone's surprise but the hired hand) we had to revert back to the method I had used previously.

In order to appreciate the rest of this story, there's one detail that you need to know. The area the cattle had entered was being developed for housing. (In the US, we do it a bit differently...for instance, in CR, the first things that are built are the sidewalks. Once this is done, it looks as if the bulldozers then drive over the fresh sidewalks to level the land, thus rendering the sidewalks completly useless. This explains a lot about the walking paths here in CR, quite honestly.) Anyways, in addition to fresh sidewalks, the drainage ditches have already been dug. In this particular site, this consisted of four parallel ditches, ten to fifteen feet deep, two to three feet across.

Now, what do you think would happen if two cows actually fell INTO one of these ditches? Do you think they would be able to fit, or do you think they would get stuck due to their girth? My money was on them getting stuck, BUT, as I was firsthand witness to, they actually fit quite nicely. One way or another, we ended up driving two cows directly into the ditch. Lucky for us, the end of the ditch (probably 150 yards long) had enough slope that it was possible for them to walk out. I would give anything to have a picture of the three of us looking down into the ditch, scratching our heads, and wondering what in the world we were gonna do...it was a sight to behold, I kid you not.

Anyways, all turned out well and now here I am. I'm thinking about hanging out here in Manuel Antonio for the week and learning to surf. Seriously considering taking a bus to Panama next week (really wanted to catch a cargo ship to Seattle, but just received word that there are no ships in the next two months that will take passengers the direction I want to go.)

Trying to wrap this up, but want to share something with you. As I mentioned before, I know that this will find many of you embarking on adventures of your own...in fact, believe it or not, every one of you is embarking on your own adventure (and I want to tell you how). I found myself on the bus yesterday, thinking about the events that would be included if there were a book about my life. I think that a person's story would include the BIG events...weddings, funerals, successes, failures, and the occasional stroke of good or bad luck. But in all honesty, what really strikes me as interesting, is that our lives are just as defined (if not more) by the OTHER moments in life that wouldn't make the final cut. Driving to work every day, you pass through the neighborhood that you choose to live in and drive to the job at which you choose to work. When you get home, maybe you like to sit and read the newspaper. Maybe you LOVE to sit and read the newspaper, but in reality, your evenings are spent running kids to sports practice, cooking dinner, cleaning, and wondering where the hours go.

Therefore, I suggest that if someone really REALLY wanted to know each of us on a very personal level and know who we are, they should read our "story" for important highlights, but pay the most attention to the way we live life in-between those moments. Parallel to this notion (and I ask you to take a leap of faith with me here) would be the idea that it's in these mundane moments of life that we're really truly living. If I'm to make the most of my life, I find myself thinking that I likely need to place just as much emphasis on this moment right NOW as I would any other. I think that's what it means to truly live every minute of your life. Living in anticipation of life's grand adventures means ignoring the very definition of life itself.

Now that I read back on what I previously wrote, saying you're "embarking on your adventure" is inaccurate. You've already embarked (as have I), now just go continue it.

Tortuguero

What a week it turned out to be...absolutely incredible. There´s no way I´ll be able to do the trip justice in this column...if you get the chance to visit Costa Rica, make sure Tortuguero is on the list of must-see locations. I have tried to condense this as much as possible, but I´ve never been known as someone who had a problem coming up with things to say.

First of all, when I was choosing places to visit, I was advised to steer clear of Tortuguero since it´s not currently "turtle season." During the months between July and September, hundreds of Green Turtles return to Tortuguero every year to lay their eggs (the word tortuguero translates as "place of the turtles"). This is the main draw in the town, but to assume that this is all that is offered is way (way) off course.

To get to Tortuguero, a boat is necessary as there are no roads in or out of town. On the boat-ride there, I met a group of locals heading to their fishing lodge for the weekend and ended up being invited to stay at their house for the entire week. The town sits on a strip of land no more than three city blocks wide...on one side you have the ocean. On the other, a series of canals draining rainwater off the mainland. These guys actually owned a piece of land that had both ocean and canal access...if I got tired of one set of scenery, I just walked to the other side and took in a completely different view. Unbelievable...both the house and the hospitality.

It´s hard to pick out ¨highlights¨ when every minute of an entire week was filled with some sort of adventure, so I´m going to attempt to create a list of the top five experiences of the week (I´d create a top ten list but I´m afraid that my father in law, Jim Postma, will compare me to David Letterman and I´ll come up short).

5. Hanging out with the locals

Having the opportunity to meet some of the locals was a ton of fun. One day, I was walking between the house and town, and I came across a guy raking leaves in the jungle in just a pair of shorts (no shirt, no shoes, no problem). I struck up a conversation with him and he told me that he owned this particular piece of property, though he actually lived (and was the caretaker of) a neighboring plot of land. He´d been working all day in the sun and jumped at the opportunity to chat. He explained that he used to be a fisherman, but that in his "old age" he decided that he was better off doing a little farming and groundskeeping. He walked me around his fruit trees and explained that he had guanabana, bananas, platanos, yucca, and pears. He told me that he was the only one in the area that was starting to grow pears - a prized commodity locally that would bring him an extra $300 per tree per year. This didn´t seem to be substantial at first, but when he explained that he made $2 per hour ($4K USD per year) those four trees started to look pretty good. I asked if he enjoyed living in the area and he said that he really didn´t, but it was hard to pass up such good money. He said he felt lucky to have his job and his land, but hoped someday to return to Nicaragua with his family. As our conversation wound down an he started stacking logs, I asked how old he was. I about fell over when he told me that he was 72. Barefoot. Stacking logs. In the middle of a hot, humid day.

4. Bodysurfing with sharks

When we first arrived at the cabin, the guys I was with promptly jumped in the ocean to cool off (it was probably 90 degrees that day, cruising through canals in the equivalent of a floating greenhouse). I didn´t think anything of it until the next day when I was talking to a local fisherman who was fishing in the same spot we were swimming. I asked him what bait he was using and when I didn´t understand, he brought in his line and showed me. He had a live fish on a hook that was probably five inches long. I asked what kind of fish took bait that large and he told me that the abundance of turtles in the area attracted a large number of sharks. I explained that I had been swimming there the next day and the look on his face said it all...it´s the same look that we used to give to tourists in Yellowstone who were attempting to hand-feed the buffalo. It roughly translates to "what a jackass."

3. My new name: Pescador ("Fisherman")

I´ve done a little fishing in my day, but never without a pole (for the record, my brother Waylon caught a two foot long salmon with his bare hands once, but I´m not nearly as dextrous as him). The preferred method of fishing in the area is with a spool of line held in your hand with a sinker and a hook on the end, using shrimp as bait. My experience consisted of fishing off of the dock in the canal and I have to say that it was fantastic! I was at dinner with some British people I´d met that day when a kid no more than seven years old started fishing from the dock on which we were sitting. He already had one fish in his bucket, so I knew it was possible, but he wasn´t having much luck. I asked him if I could try and on my second "cast," I hooked something big. It took me a minute to bring it in and when I did, not only was he REALLY excited, he yanked the line out of my hands and took off at a full sprint...with fish and all. Just as quickly as he´d left, a local came running back with the line and fish in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other, followed by four or five more kids and a couple of adults. He quickly returned the fish to it´s rightful home and explained that I´d caught a very rare fish, though he didn´t know the name. I´m pretty sure the kids thought I was the Great Gringo God of Fishing as they called me "Pescador" every time they passed for the next week. Needless to say, I left before they had the chance to heave me in the volcano.

2. Learning to cook

I received an email from a friend back in Seattle one day and she inquired whether I had decided to take surfing or cooking lessons for the week. Having such a short attention span, I forgot altogether that I was trying to choose between the two a few days earlier (neither of which were offered anywhere near Tortuguero). All of a sudden, I had the urge to learn to do a little cooking, so after dinner that night, I asked the owner of the restaurant if she would mind teaching me to cook the following day. She obliged and I recieved a crash course in Caribbean cooking, learning how to make fish cooked in coconut milk, Caribbean style rice and beans, and fried plantaines (two types). The food was fantastic and I even learned how to make my own fresh coconut milk (I´d tell you that you just shave a coconut, put the shavings in a blender with a LOT of water, blend, then strain...but I don´t want to give away my greatest secret of all). I´ve been testing ceviche and will hopefully have the recipe perfected by the time I return. In another, unrelated and unplanned course, I learned to make a "Coco Loco"...chop top off coconut, take three big gulps of milk, fill to top with rum, and enjoy.

1. Kayaking with crocodiles and the story behind my tattoo

My favorite time in Tortuguero was spent by myself in a kayak. There are a series of canals in the area and you can rent a kayak for about six bucks a day. The first day was the better of the two (and, coincidentally, happened to be the day that I forgot my camera). After kayaking for about an hour and not seeing a single animal in trees or in the water, I started to get a little frustrated. I decided to take a little Oreo break and as I was sitting there, I saw something move in the trees. Oreos in one hand, paddle in the other, I crept up a little closer and found myself within five feet of a white-faced monkey. As I scanned the trees, I realized that there were probably ten or fifteen within fifty feet of my boat and they were using the tree above me as a bridge across the canal. We snacked together for probably twenty minutes before I decided to move on and see what else I could find. Within thirty feet, I passed within two feet of a "small-ish" (three feet head to tail) cayman. I was a little freaked out, but had been told that cayman are typically very docile and won´t attack unless provoked. Another hundred feet or so down the canal, I spotted a much larger reptile on the banks (which to this day I believe was a crocodile, the cayman´s grumpy cousin) that I estimated at around seven feet head to tail. Before I could stop the kayak, the croc (ok, likely a large cayman, but croc sounds scarier) rushed into the water and started swimming towards me. I have no prior experience in a kayak, but somehow, in an instant, I was able to flip the kayak around and paddle out of the canal at a great enough speed that I threw off a wake comparable to some of the best wakeboard boats on the market today. From that point to the end of this particular stretch of canal, every falling leaf, croaking frog, jumping fish, screeching monkey, flying bird, and butterfly fart became that crocodile tapping me on the shoulder, politely letting me know that he was hungry and would prefer having Tanned Gringo for dinner. I made it out in one piece (probably surprising no one else in the park but myself) and consider it the best adventure of the trip.

I´ve left out a lot here...hiking with poison dart frogs, adventures in waiting for boats, being lampooned on the river bank for three hours, and getting a new tattoo...but those will have to wait until I´m able to tell you the stories in person. (Ok, the tattoo tidbit was just a teaser to get you to read this blog entry, but it worked, didn´t it? Did you really think that Conservative Patrick would decide one day to get a tattoo!?)

Hand crank-powered internet...?

Gotta be a quickie (not sure whether to apologize or say you´re welcome, honestly) as I´m writing this from Tortuguero in the extreme northeast portion of Costa Rica. I decided to take a week vacation from school (I´m writing the rules here, so if I want a vacation while I´m on vacation, that´s the way it´s gonna go) and found myself here. On the boat over, I met a group of people, one thing led to another, and I´ve found myself staying at their house for the week with their groundskeeper. The electricity is spotty here, so I have to make this quick. I´ll post more when I get back to Heredia Saturday or Sunday, but here´s the idea:

sun
kayak
crocodiles
off-season
hammock
lizards
tent in house
turtle
dead battery in camera
birds
new tattoo
fishing
rooster
monkeys
coconuts

More to come soon!