Life is a Journey: What I've learned from the last 22 months

These last couple days have been rough for me. October 17th is when my father passed away in a car/train accident 11 years ago at the age of 40, and October 2nd is when Gooner passed away 2 years ago in a car accident at the age of 33. And October 3rd is my birthday. It’s a lot to process in the span of a couple weeks.

After nothing short of a meltdown the morning of October 17th feeling my life was slipping away from me, I decided to take a couple days off from reading, researching, writing, and ‘constructive’ thinking in general, and just try to relax. That day we rented a scooter and spent the day driving around the island and sitting on the beach. The next day I spent reading a novel and in the evening drinking wine and eating brie. The following was spent watching Friends, and the next Stumbling through the Internet.

I cannot tell you how grateful I am for those 4 days. I feel a renewed grip on reality and my life, and a renewed sense of appreciation for the present moment and how I got here.


Early January of 2012 I left my hometown. I didn’t know where I wanted to be, but I knew it wasn’t there.

A couple of months before this in October, Gooner had died, and I had come back from Switzerland feeling lost, having left my career path in top-level international relations, realizing that that world was not where I belonged.

As of a conversation in a bar in small town Saskatchewan January of 2012, I decided upon a rough plan of departure and resolved to go find what I wanted, where I belonged, whatever and wherever it was.

Since that moment, 22 months have passed and I have journeyed through 4 provinces, 11 countries, 3 continents and 2 islands.

I have briefly dated a hippie, a chef, and a model, before falling in love with an eccentric French Canadian hippie-at-heart. 

I have lived in 17 different apartments, houses and rooms with anywhere from 1 to 7 roommates.

I have slept on ikea foam couches, futons, pillows, cushions, ½ cm thick foamies, hammocks, air mattresses, floors, tiny mattress, plush ones, hard ones, really cold ones, and really hot ones.

I’ve been serenaded by a Uruguayan Johnny Cash in a public plaza.

I met Molly in an afterhours club in Barcelona.

I’ve held a conversation with a group of German men in a Beer House in Munich.

I’ve shared rides with perfect strangers in countries where I didn’t speak the language, and had wonderful conversations.

I’ve had life changing spiritual guidance from a Catalonian artist.

I’ve gotten my braces removed.

I’ve been swindled by Peruvians living on floating islands at an altitude of 3800m.

I have climbed and ridden a mule up to 3400m in one of the most beautiful valleys and canyons in the world.

I’ve been ill in an electricity-less tropical oasis in the deepest canyon in the world.

I have waded barefoot in tidal pools in the Pacific Ocean looking for sea treasures with Ecuadorian children.

I’ve had to negotiate my way in and out of an Ecuadorian emergency room.

I have eaten fresh seafood by the shores of the Caribbean.

I’ve gotten robbed in the tropical rainforest of Costa Rica.

I have witnessed a woman chasing her passport thief down the road as he threw bottles at her to dissuade her pursuit in the capitol of Colombia.

I have ridden 3 people to a small moto driven by a man we had just met, and had the most wonderful day.

I have manoeuvred a scooter through Mexican traffic.

I have taught English in traditional classrooms, jungle open-air classrooms, cafés, bars, and huts on the beach to poor children, spoiled children, rich children, young wealthy adults, poor adults who could barely afford to miss work long enough to come to lessons, really appreciative, kind and eager adults, and adults who could care less about the English language.

I have been too sick to function and have witnessed someone puking out of a 2nd story window.

I have been proposed to at a beach town in Nicaragua at the most pedantically beautifully decorated outdoor restaurant.

I have braved snakes, moose, bear, cockroaches, flying horned bugs, rats, lizards and monkeys.

I have been part of an unsuspecting group dropped off in an unknown location in the Amazon with no map and no directions 2 hours before sunset.

I have spent afternoons lazing on the beach playing beach volleyball drinking fresh fruit smoothies.

I have surprised Ecuadorian children with what I think were their first homemade cookies.

I have played cards during a thunderstorm in the rainforest on the beach.

I have been squished with far too many people in far too little of a car.

I have gone an unexpected 3 days without electricity or running water in rural Nicaragua.

I have spent 4 days 13kms by foot away from all civilization in to the Canadian wilderness.

And I have met many magnificent people in both conventional and unusual places who have changed my life in some way.


Through all of this, 22 months and 3 continents later, I have survived. Floating from one place to the next serendipitously, I learned that it’s not a ‘something’ that I am looking for, or a goal of some kind to be attained, but that it’s rather the journey that matters and the people who touch your life along the way.

In the end, I did find what I was looking for, but only when I learned to stop looking. I am not farther ahead in my career than I was 22 months ago. Nor am I richer, have more things, have a set path, or have more security. But I am happier. I am more relaxed, more appreciative, more balanced, healthier, wiser, more connected to and more grateful for the world around me.

I guess the old saying is true, that you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink. You can read as many words of wisdom as you’d like about appreciating the journey, living in the moment, etc., but in the end, for it to be true, you must find it and learn it for yourself. 

What a month it has been...

1 month. It has been exactly one month since we first woke up in Cozumel, September 16th in Hostelito downtown. It's gone by so quickly.

One the one hand, I feel like we haven't done too much since arriving here. When we skype with people I feel like there's usually not much new. We do a lot of reading. But when I think about this past month...Well, I guess I'm wrong.

Not mentioning all the fabulous progress I have made regarding my readings, my application, my thesis, my ideas and methodology in general, and my plans in the PhD and career department, nor the wonderful plans and ideas Cena and I have made, since we arrived in Cozumel we have :

• Met with the realtor and landlord, signed the contract, and moved in to our apartment. 
• Ventured all over San Miguel (the city on the island) to find various discount things for our apartment including bed sheets, pillows, cleaning supplies, air fresheners, soap, etc. and got our exercise carrying them back. (We may have caved and gotten a taxi once or twice). 
• Found and carried back all the food staples including spices, corn flour, olive oil, eggs, etc. that we can't get at the market. 
• Cleaned our musty and dusty man-lived apartment top to bottom. 
• Walked across the city to Cablemas to successfully get through the confusion and get our internet hooked up, all in Spanish. 
• Tried out all kinds of restaurants, Mexican cuisine, and taco shops.
• Surprised Cena with a private Mexican cooking class in the home of a Mexican former French teacher.
• Braved the local market to start our shopping there. 
• Walked 5km (each direction) in the swealtering sun then in the pouring rain to try and find the outdoor mall and market to buy running shoes. 
• Explored our first Beach Club, Playa Azul and had a delightful Sunday afternoon lazing under a palm hut drinking lemonades by the turquoise blue sea. Occasionally broken up by some snorkelling and swimming. 
• Got ashiatsu massages by an expat of 11 years. 
• Got gym memberships to the fabulously air-conditioned gym down the street, as between 11am and 3-4pm it's too hot to do anything outside, let alone anything active.
• Started a strict cleanse and have been following it with minor exceptions until present day.
• Rented an old VW Beetle and toured and explored the island and beach bars all day. 
• Solved the crisis of Cablemas disconnecting our internet claiming we hadn't paid the bill, again all in Spanish
• Explored many different cafés, trying to find the perfect one where it's not too hot, not too much A/C, and that have tea actually worth the 2$ price tag.
• Spent an afternoon seeing the Museum of Cozumel, and since we're nerds it did take an entire afternoon.
• Cooked almost every meal at home from scratch for the last 3 1/2 weeks.  
• Braved the local Cozumel chiropractor and discovered (to Cena's relief) that he is American trained, and for locals payment is by donation.
• Started a morning routine involving 6am, meditation, journaling, and no communication devices (FB, email, news, etc.) for the first couple hours. 

Like I said, quite the list of adventures considering that is not including the at home work and reading! And still so much more to do, see, and explore on the island. New mission for this week: Find t-shirts or tank tops that aren't too touristy (neon and have Cozumel written on them in big letters) or too latina (skin tight with leopard print).

Plus I believe we will have a steady stream of visitors until we leave for Vancouver Island March 12th, the day our visa expires. 

Will being the first, staying for a week arriving November 16th. Jasmin, forever TBD of course, but mentioned a week beginning of December. Jasper mentioned possibly a week over Christmas. Garry and Diane are planning a week or two in January. Meaghan (and Saul?) mentioned a week in February. And then we leave! 

Time will absolutely fly by. One of the many reasons we are really working on living in the moment. Taking this time to re-balance and re-centre everything, after close to 2 years of travelling country hopping chaos for me, and 1,5 for Cena, and create some good healthy habits before moving back to Canada for a few years. Yes, I actually said moving, not just visiting. But to another island of course, so the transition won't be so bad ;)

My Cozumel Birthday(s) Part 2

The morning of October 4th was bright and sunny. I woke up to find Cena out of bed again, but unlike the previous morning where breakfast was all laid out and she was peacefully working on her computer, this morning she was busy running around, collecting items for a pile on the table. Clearly the birthday plan was in full swing today.

As I sat down, she was in the process of making a bowl of oatmeal for me. She had no sooner put the bowl down on the table than announced that she had a last minute birthday related errand to run, and that we could leave as soon as she got back. With that she grabbed the purse and dashed out the door.

When she came back, she said everything is good. According to plan. For her sake, I hoped so. She had been sneaking around planning at this for weeks now. But planning and Latin America don't exactly go hand in hand.

So she had a quick banana, finished packing up the 2 backpacks of things, and said we were ready to go. So I followed.

Eagerly wondering where we were going, I was scouring for hints. Were we walking left or right? Both hinted at different plans. But we were each carrying a backpack and her a 4L bottle of water, so we couldn't be going terribly far in the heat. We left the parking lot and turned right. Hmm.. However no more than 10 feet around the corner from our parking lot, I see this. And I see Cena smile and start walking towards it. Oh my, what had she done...

She had rented an old, nay ancient bright orange convertible bug for us to drive around and explore the island with! And had researched more than a days worth of possible stops all along the way, depending on our/my mood. Hence the two backpacks worth of stuff. Everything from swimsuits to snorkel gear to snacks to raincoats was thought of and brought with.

So with that we threw our stuff in the back and took off out of town, dodging crazy latino motorists to get to the highway to start our day, with everything we could possibly need. Except of course for the map of the island and cash, which in her excitement Cena had forgot to print off and withdraw. But really all that meant was a little bit more exploring, and a little bit more adventure to the day. Even more so when we got to the 'wild' east side of the island where there is no electricity to speak of, therefore no atms and no credit card accepted.

But for now we were still driving the highway, as our surroundings were getting progressively more and more green. Until we hit a point where there was no more civilization, just jungle and highway. And of course the occasional hotel and beach bar. Our first stop was the infamous Mr. Sanchos which we had heard so much about.

In two words, tourist paradise. Mr. Sanchos has everything from its own little souvenir marketplace, to a tequila factory, to a swim up pool bar, to an ocean waterpark complete with trampoline and climbing structure, to massage huts, to beach loungers to hammocks, to all-inclusive drink and food day packages. It was beautiful. But also crowded. Just not what we were in the mood for just yet, so we walked back to the parking lot to our bug to hit the road again. However, not before taking another 5 minutes to fiddle with the bike lock keeping the hood/trunk locked with our stuff in it.

We kept driving the single lane and only highway down the island and decided that we would rather spend the day exploring the island in general and different beach bars and huts rather than individual ruins and national parks for now.

The drive was so beautiful. So wonderful. In this ancient steel car that was so simple it didn't even have a radio or buttons, or a dash or vents to speak of, just a simple speedometer, gas gage and hazard lights. But who needs vents when you're in a convertible, driving on a coastal highway on a caribbean island?

Before we knew it we had left the west side, crossed the south filled with natural reserves and parks, and had stumbled on to the 'wild' east side. The first place we see is one we had been wanting to check out since we first arrived on the island, this reggae beach bar called rastas.

Incredible views, incredible food, and obviously incredibly friendly laid back atmosphere and servers who walked around the place barefooted and lazed in a hammock when they weren't serving. 

After this we continued driving up the coast, marvelling at the turquoise waters, occasionally stopping at random beach huts just to take in the views. 

Our next real stop was at this bar Cena had researched ahead of time called Coconuts. We nearly missed it had it not been for this inconspicuous sign and a few cars parked along side the highway. The cars were parked next to this hand painted sign that read 'Entrance' and led to this stone stairway trail up a hill through the jungle.

We followed the trail and passed some signs that indicated that we were definitely on the right path. We finally arrived at this circular beach hut bar perched on a hill almost hidden by trees. Blasting rock music with remarkable views of the sea, I thought it was definitely time to cheat the cleanse and have a birthday drink here. Only, as Cena had forgotten to take cash out, and we were on the east side with no electricity, we scrounged our purse and found we had just over 50 pesos on us leftover from lunch, or about 2$. Just enough for one large margarita. The only problem, was the server was so friendly that we end up chatting with him, Martin was his name, and telling him that this day was my birthday celebration. And since we only had money for one margarita, he felt he should make it worth our while.

At the table arrived this enormous margarita. It looked like it could fit most of a bottle of booze, and tasted like it had a least half a bottle of tequila in it. Fantastic as this was, Cena was driving, and at this point we had both been on a liver cleanse for 2 weeks and hadn't had a drop to drink in that time frame. So after managing to bring the contents of this margarita bowl down about an inch, we already felt a little happier. We asked Martin for more ice and lime in hopes of toning it down a bit. Successful, yes. But it was still no match for the mickey of tequila.

After a while, we wanted to move on go to another place to swim. So I nonchalantly took the cup under the table and poured the remaining half in to Cena's nalgene bottle to take with us. We thanked Martin, and despite his pleas for us to stay, even going so far as to offer drinks on him, we promised him we would be back another time, when we didn't have more island to explore. 

After Coconuts we kept driving around the island, taking everything in, and decided to continue and loop back through town to stop back at our apartment to have some snacks and take money out. Then we continued back on our original highway and headed to Mr. Sanchos to get in an hour of so of swimming before it closed. Because you see, most beach bars close at 5 or 5:30pm. This has a double function of sending boozy customers off to nice restaurants for supper, and preserving energy. As once night falls, there is no more energy to be had and only the bars or hotels who could afford to run their own electricity cables could stay open. Cena however had done research ahead of time and had found this Ecuador-like beach cabana reputed for its fresh delicious seafood, that stayed open after dark, Alberto's. 

Alberto's was perfect. Just like Ecuador it was comprised of various beach huts nestled in the trees, a bar/kitchen, beach volleyball court, dance floor, sound system, tiki torches, and tables. That's it. Oh, the one thing it had that Ecuador didn't was a massage lady. We arrived there just an hour before sunset with plenty of time to take everything in, listen to their wonderful mix of latino, classic rock, and current tracks, an order delicious seafood.

After a grilled Maji Maji in a lime garlic sauce (the island favourite) for me, and fish tacos for Cena (surprise surprise), we stayed a while longer to enjoy the atmosphere, chat with our new server friend Jorge and promise him that we would indeed go salsa dancing with him at Tikitok in town another night, and to watch the sunset.

This was the flawless image engraved in my mind just before we left Alberto's and put a magical birthday day to rest, fearing that our trusty car didn't have great headlights for night driving (a fear that proved justified). Taken with a 120$ digital camera with absolutely no editing.

My Cozumel Birthday(s) Part 1

This may come as a shock to some of you, but Cena is a little bit competitive. I know. Let me give you a moment to catch your breath.

...

Because I gave her a 'birthday month' this year, threw her a party at our place in Costa Rica, and then had her actual birthday on the beach in Nicaragua, she felt the need to at least match that for my birthday this year, if not top it. Then when I surprised her with private Mexican cooking classes a couple weeks ago, it was on. 

So it all started exactly a week before my birthday, I was to get the first surprise. As I did with her, she led me out of the house saying we were going somewhere but not telling me where. We walked oddly close to where I took her, when we stopped in front of this adorable run-down looking courtyard with little cabin/bachelor apartments all around. Cena walked up to a particular one, and a very swami looking middle-aged woman invited us in. We were getting massages. And not just any massage, an Ashiatsu barefoot massage. 

It was wonderful. I walked back to the apartment feeling like I was walking on clouds in dreamland. 

Have I also mentioned that she was completely determined to keep everything a surprise? Because of everyone jabbing at her that she can't keep secrets, she was dead set on having me be in the dark for everything. So for the week preceding my birthday days, she would be doing secret research on the computer, wander off for a couple hours at a time on secret errands, would have secret phone calls and mysterious emails. So as much as I loved the idea of the surprise, I was looking forward to ending the sneaking around and moratorium on questions because she didn't want to give anything away. 

So the next of the surprises was the evening before my birthday on the 2nd. We left the house at 6pm and started walking North, which we've only gone once before. I figured we were going out for supper, but clearly not at your average tourist restaurant as we were walking farther away from everything. 

At 6:30pm exactly we reach this enormous gated property with a lush garden and 19th century style lighting through the walkway to this large colonial era house, Casa mission. The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming amount of crosses on the wall. I kid you not, there had to have been at least 200 crosses.

I put 2 and 2 together and realized it was an old religious house for the priests and nuns coming over doing mission work in Mexico, converted in to a restaurant. Culture and supper, all in one stop. Not to mention the band that was playing an interesting set of traditional and modern instruments. One was like a cross between a stool and an xylophone. 

When we got back home, we watched a couple short episodes of TV in the living room, and Cena wanted to watch another one in bed. I protested but finally gave in. She led me to the bedroom and I opened the door to find the entire room illuminated by candlelight and three different scented massage oils on the nightstand, because she "didn't know which one I would like best". 

After a glorious massage, she confirmed to me that her plan for tomorrow (the 3rd) was going on rain or shine, so to be prepared...

Well when I woke up the morning of the 3rd, Cena was not there. Thinking she had decided to let me sleep in instead of up at 7:30am for her plan, I lazily laid there with my eyes closed slowly waking up. Until I realized that there was this wonderful mist spraying my legs. I opened my eyes to find it pouring down rain so hard it was raining inside the bedroom on to the bed. So I went out to the kitchen to find her at her computer at the table, with a wonderful little breakfast already laid out and waiting for the two of us. She had been up for over an hour already rescheduling everything until tomorrow. After having a week of blue skies and sun, the damn Cozumel rainy season had returned.

Nevertheless, I had an absolutely wonderful relaxed birthday. After breakfast she pulled out yet another surprise.

A beautiful handmade card filled with wonderful things, and Scrabble Twist! Essentially its scrabble but without the board and points. So it's all about finishing your pile of letters first. Because we've played scrabble a lot while travelling, but always with just the pouch of letters because you can't exactly travel with a board. I believe Cena's exact words after we read the rules were, "Take that Jasmin! Make fun of our Scrabble rules.." 

Because it was pouring rain and we were inside all day, we decided to have a gourmet food day for my birthday. So we spent some time scouring recipes online for healthy cleanse recipes and finished with an italian theme. Cena went to the market, and got the missing ingredients for the day. For lunch we made a homemade chicken, onion, spinach and goat cheese pizza with an olive-oil and garlic base, with fresh basil and parsley, on top of a homemade gluten free pizza crust. For supper, a simple olive oil, garlic, basil, parsley, menthe, mung bean noodle pasta beside an aichiote marinaded grouper fish. omg. What an incredible food day. 

But to top it all off, like she had planned the whole day at home, rain and all, she had prepared 14 coloured cards, each with a trait and something beautiful written on them to give to me at random intervals throughout the day. 

Oh, and she played me happy birthday on the ukulele. Amazing. And all this was apparently just in waiting until the grand surprise tomorrow...

11 weeks, 3 provinces, and one island

Yet another 3 month hiatus. What a half a year this has been. Oh my. After a quick scan of my last post plus a mental check list of the things I want to write about today... No wonder we're exhausted. Apparently there's been a pattern of 2 1/2 months on the go, 3 weeks rest, followed by another 2 1/2 months go.

However, despite following a seemingly self-repeating pattern of exertion, life could not be more different at the moment. These last 2 1/2 months, rather than being punctuated by an endurance testing amount of hours at work, followed immediately by 4 day amazing race style travel, was a Westerly journey through Canada filled with visits with family and old friends.

 ------------


That, up there, was written September 12th, the day before we left the valley. I started it, obviously intending to write this very post that morning, then wouldn't you know it, we got too busy for me to finish/continue it. That last week was absolute chaos. We finally sat down to rest for exactly an hour and a half before Veronica took us to the airport.

The 24 hours travelling was largely uneventful, yet hectic at the same time. (Yes, this will indeed be the theme for this post) We left the Comox Valley and their adorably small and friendly airport in the evening, around 6:30 or 7:30pm and arrived in Calgary at 10pm. There Garry and Saul picked us up and brought us to Cena's wonderful aunt and uncle's place, where of course there was some visiting until about midnight. We retreated upstairs, while everyone else kept visiting, and proceeded not to sleep until about 5:30am, when we finally just got ready and had Garry drop us back off at the airport. Being too tired for breakfast, Garry wanted to buy us some parting food, yet there was nothing nearby. So he bought us some Bernard chocolates for the trip, and we were off through security. (Which we didn't eat until a couple days ago, and were absolutely marvellously delicious, particularly the salted caramel ones)

We had both planned on getting some work done that morning; me writing and Cena doing training work for a certification, but were far too exhausted for that. It seems now like that entire day passed in this half-conscious dream-like state, that is until we were boarding the smallest plane of life to go up into the storm clouds over the Caribbean ocean to get to Cozumel. I was definitely conscious for that.

These past 9-10 days though, have been wonderful. After we got our apartment, unpacked, settled in, went shopping for the necessary food, cleaning, and bedding staples, we finally got to just sit and relax. I think those first 5 days were just a seesaw effort to try and adjust, unwind, and find food. Once we finally succeeded though, and had simultaneously totally readjusted back to Latin America and let go of the tension of the last 2 1/2 months of travelling, it was marvellous. We stayed at home in our pyjamas all day.

But what brought us back to this point? What was the journey from the last blog post until this one? Well, I won't go in to too many details, as we've actually seen many of you in person, so you mostly know what went down during the 11 weeks we spent in Canada.

The first 2 1/2 were spent in Redvers and Brandon. We hit the ground running and were picked up from the airport at midnight, driven back to Redvers to arrive at 5am, slept for a couple hours, then were woken up to be brought to a family reunion. As good of a visit as it was, there was a lot to see and do, and we didn't complete nearly the list of things we had wanted. After this, we went up to Saskatoon to spend a fantastic couple days staying with Lindsay and Josh. Absolutely wonderful. I wish we could have stayed there much longer.

From this point, Saul came from Edmonton to pick us up, and we road tripped to Calgary to spend an action packed all too exciting weekend there, and drive up to Edmonton Sunday morning. We spent exactly 1 very busy week in Edmonton before heading to Jasper for the first of the 'big' things on our list of what we wanted to do in Canada.

There we camped the first night near town, then the next morning left for 4 days of backcountry camping 13km in to Jacques Lake. An incredibly rewarding and unreal experience that we are both very eager to repeat. Then after a night in the town of Jasper, we left to spend 2 nights in Kelowna for a music festival, Center of Gravity. From there we continued on to Vancouver to spend 2 nights at one of Cena's old friend's places for Vancouver Pride, where Veronica met us. Literally at the Pride Festival site. That night we travelled to Surrey and met Cena's Uncle Poncho, Veronica's brother, and his girlfriend. The next morning we left Vancouver for Surrey again, then her fabulously eccentric Aunty Leah picked us up to drive us to the ferry terminal that would take us to Vancouver island.

From this point forth, despite the mountain of planning, activities, trips, and visiting we did during our 6 weeks on the island, everything was a little bit more relaxed and calm. In fact, from the very moment we met up with Veronica (Cena's mom) in the middle of the insanely long Pride Parade in the midst of the chaos that was the festival, I think we both felt that we could somehow breathe easier. We could stop and smell the roses again. Even if just for a moment before continuing on to then next activity.

Part of this is clearly the vibe on Vancouver island and Comox Valley itself, but the other half, I believe can be attributed to Veronica. I could not find enough wonderful things to say about that woman. She just exudes this air of calmness and inner peace, if you had to label it. She clearly has her share (or more than in some cases) of health problems, life frustrations, and general stresses, but doesn't let it get to her. She has her moments of weakness, like everyone else, but the rest of the time she works to maintain this harmonious serenity. This caring tranquility that she makes seem effortless. I cannot tell you how pleasant, refreshing, and just plain good it was to be around someone like that while back in Canada.

I mean, that is a large part of why Cena and I love living in Latin America so much; because everyone takes a breath before doing anything. They have mid-afternoon siestas and don't sweat the small stuff. They don't concern themselves with many of the trivial things North Americans do. They are all around happier. The very possibility that I could enjoy a life similar to this with my fiancé while living in our breathtakingly beautiful '1st world' homeland was a little mind blowing for me. It triggered a lot of new visions of the future that don't involve being permanent backpacking gypsies. And I will always have Veronica and the Island to thank for that.

The 3 month hiatus

Dear blog followers,

I feel like the last 2 1/2-3 months have been the busiest in possibly my entire life. Except perhaps my last semester of my Bachelors in Saskatoon while I was taking full-time classes, working at La Fédération Part-time, running Le Cercle Français, and balancing a relationship, all at the same time.

In fact, when I counted, I couldn't believe that March was just 3 months ago. An unbelievable amount has happened since then, none of which I have had time to write about. It is very difficult to explore, live in, and take in a new country when you are locked in to a 40 hour a week contract where most of your free time is spent running errands, procuring food, and unwinding. So we basically did it all in one shot at the same time that friends and family were visiting, all while continuing to work 8+ hour days the moment we were back in Sarapiqui. As you can imagine, this made for an absolutely wonderful albeit very packed and exhausting time.

It all started back in March. March was the beginning of the stress that would lead to the proverbial shit hitting the fan at the end of May. End of March however, we had to take our 3 months border run and leave the country for a minimum 3 days. We took advantage of this to de-stress and go to a place a friend of ours had recommended, San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. This also happened to line up with Semana Santa (Holy Week - Easter) and Cena's birthday. Blog post on this to come. When we got back, it was straight back to work, finalising unfinished work from the days we were gone and preparing for when Jasmin would arrive the 17 of April. She finally arrived on a Thursday, I believe. The first days of the weekend with her were spent relaxing and catching up. Then when Amanda arrived on Monday or Tuesday, the tempo started to pick up. In fact, the tempo picked up, and didn't drop back down until about a day or two ago.

That month and a half was filled with 3-4 day speed weekend trips followed immediately by 8+ hour work days back in Sarapiqui, followed immediately by more trips. Blog posts to come. We went to La Fortuna and the volcano Arenal, then Monteverde the coffee growing region in the rainforest, then Jasmin and Amanda continued on while we went back to Sarapiqui for 2 days. Then to Tortuguero, a coastal town accessible only by boat whose 'raison d'être' is sea turtle protection, then to Cahuita, an beach town with afro-Caribbean vibes right next to a national park and coral reef, then back to Sarapiqui while they continued on down the coast. Photos to be posted. Garry and Saul (Cena's dad and brother) then arrived, with Jasmin arriving for her final stay back in Sarapiqui shortly after. That weekend was then filled with celebrations, touring our area, hiking and swimming up the river, night walk through the jungle, a day-long tour of Finca Sura, followed by more hiking/swimming in the river. Monday morning we were back at work, and Tuesday night we had an epic going away party for Jasmin. Wednesday morning the guys left for a two day trip to the Caribbean while we worked, then Friday we all left together and spent the morning at La Paz Waterfall Garden and Animal Reserve and the afternoon walking on Poas volcano. We then drove and navigated down to Manuel Antonio, and the next day farther down to Uvita. After 2 nights there it was back to Sarapiqui for work. Garry and Saul left Monday evening and the shit hit the fan Tuesday evening. Blog post to come.

So Tuesday evening was spent in tense discussions with the other EFL teacher Cait and Jenny the Director. Wednesday morning was a continuation of these and discussion of our plans, then we went in to Puerto Viejo to pick up Cena's friend Katie Jasper from the bus station and finished things up that night. Thursday we packed and Friday morning we (us, Katie, and Cait) left first for San Jose for Cena's appointment, then 6 hours North to Playa Hermosa, 2 hours from the Nicaraguan/Costa Rican border where we stopped, caught our breath for a couple days, and tried to process what had just happened before continuing on in to Nicaragua to return to San Juan del Sur where we are now.

Here we arrived Monday afternoon after leaving Playa Hermosa bright and early, checked in to a hostel, ate lunch at about 2pm, then Cena and I spent the next 3 hours wandering town answering signs and looking at apartments. At about 5pm I started feeling ill. This was the beginning of the flu for the next 2 days for me. Nevertheless the next morning we packed and changed hostels to something cosier. Thursday I finally felt better and we resumed the search hiking outside of town and all around, and finally celebrated being here with some 2X1 mojitos. Friday morning Cena and I packed all of our things, checked out of the hostel, and waited patiently for a contact to get back to us to confirm a room or not. Finally by 3-4pm we had dropped our bags off and paid for our room at our new home for June, Javier's House. A nice big 2 story house with beautiful hardwood floors and tile, kitchen, living room, terrace with hammocks, and 6 bedrooms, each of which Javier rents out through Luis, a Surfing Guide living here as well.

Then, after all that, we basically collapsed. Right now, it's Monday morning and I'm finally feeling a touch more rested. Enough to write this little update to all you beautiful people and let you know that I/we are alive and, well, I wouldn't say well, not quite yet, but getting there. Breathing easier. This next week will STILL have some activities as Katie and Cait are still here with us until Thursday/Friday. So all of these posts and photos will come within the next couple weeks. We are here (thank the universe) until the end of June, where we'll take a quick trip back to Sarapiqui to pick up our large suitcase, then off to the airport in San Jose for July 4th to start our 2 months trip back to Canada. Oh my.. We'd better get well rested this next month.

Loving the life you live: why I love it here

I love living in Latin America. Yes, despite my 1000$ piece of equipment being stolen Saturday just because I am white and was working alongside a group of white tourists, I still very much love living here. A conversation I had with a close friend yesterday that reminded me of why.

I don’t think I’d had a proper conversation with her since the last time I left Canada. Once we started talking, naturally I asked what was new?! What has been going on in her life? She reported that there was nothing much new. She went to work, came home and bitched about work, repeat. She is very happy in love, so she doesn’t hate life, but claimed to have nothing seriously exciting worth reporting or telling.

Living down here on the other hand, I have been up for a little over an hour and already could have at least 2 stories to tell. Things out of the ordinary happen every day. Even after 3 months living and working here, out of the ordinary work took place Friday and Saturday. It is all this that reminded me of why we left. Why we came here. To escape the monotony and routine everyday living in Canada can bring with it.

Here we have an adopted street dog that has become extremely protective over our house and watches guard all night every night. We have to watch for giant snakes in the grass while walking to work and jumping in the river. We had a woman this morning crawl out of the brush of trees in our back yard, with a big smile asking us if there are any pigs in the yard. We have a neighbour that weed wacks his ENTIRE yard, every week or so. We have a bed that we have to re-inflate every week or so. We have bugs the size of hands flying in to our house every evening, leaving us on spur of the moment strategic bug slaying missions. We have hilarious chickens in the back yard and a neighbour’s rooster that comes to visit them and keep them ‘in check’. We buy our vegetables every Monday from a guy who sells them out of his van who stops by our office for us. The list just keeps going. This doesn’t even include the crazy people our co-workers and neighbours are, and our encounters with them.

All of this is part of our everyday life here. Never in a million years could we claim this is boring or monotonous. Every day life throws new excitement and challenges at us. Wonderful new memories and learning opportunities. I feel like I have learned, experienced, and grown more throughout this last year in Latin America than I have during many other years combined. And despite the pitfalls and setbacks that are always ever present as well, some minor, and some major, I truly wouldn’t change a thing.

Forced disconnection: Life in Latin America sans iPhone

Hello world. It’s 7:20am Sunday morning. I have been awake since the crack of dawn at quarter to six this morning, and just finished a breakfast of organic gluten-free chocolate coconut cookies. While I was eating the cookies in the kitchen however, the neighbour dog came and pissed on my stool/laptop holder next to the hammock.

Last night, having been upset, Cena made me a delicious rum and guanabana cocktail to somewhat lift my spirits, however we were almost out of rum. So she borrowed Pancho’s (another neighbour) bike to make a quick trip to El Toro to buy us a bottle of rum (unlike the “quick trip” described in her blog). Not 5 minutes down the road on the way home, the bottle swung down from her arm, clinking the edge of the metal frame, breaking the bottom almost clean off the bottle of 7 year aged Flor de Caña rum.

Earlier yesterday morning, we were at work helping out with a community development project led by the Center, given to us by the local firefighters, to paint all the cement posts along the highway between Chilamate and the Center. While most of the group of 23 teenagers from Lincoln Academy, Maine were busy on that, I was supervising 8 boys and translating between them and Fernando, a non-communicative local sustainable farmer who was helping us build a greenhouse for our reforestation work. This was not easy work as Fernando didn’t speak any English and the boys, aside from Pancho of course thankfully, no Spanish. However even when Fernando did speak and give clear directions for me to translate, he spoke in Tico Spanish, a combination of Tico slang, mumbling, and regular Spanish thrown in. Not to mention the actual greenhouse construction work wasn’t any easier with 12 holes to be dug 1 and a half feet deep each in to the ground for posts. Digging in to forest ground containing rocks 2 square feet in size, giant tree roots, and a cement pad covering 2 of the holes. Dug with only shovels, machetes, and something resembling a giant spade/ice pick they used to break the cement and dislodge giant rocks. So no one complained as an extra guy everyone assumed was there with someone else floated in to the work site, picked up a shovel, and started breaking through cement. No one barely noticed either when the same guy floated out just as unnoticed as he had come in. As it turns out, no one even knew his name. It wasn’t until an hour or so later that we realized my iPhone had gone missing from my bag. Everyone else having been hard at work and accounted for, it likely left with him.

So this makes 3 right? 3 events of misfortune in a short time frame. The curse should now be lifted? Isn’t that how this works? I/we can now move on with my/our life without fear of further repercussions?

Granted losing my iPhone, the one thing I still own that has, or rather had, any real value (other than my computer), my one (expensive) magic multi-tool for dealing with the developing world and rough situations while traveling and living abroad, does make losing a bottle of special 7 year aged rum for which we had to borrow a bike to ride uphill 3km and writing out of our only comfortable place now filled with the stench of dog urine seem like frivolous inconsequential inconveniences.

I realized that since I left Canada to go to Belgium how many years ago, I have always had my iPod Touch, then my iPhone as of November 2 years ago. I have never had to battle Latin America or Europe without it. Until now. I really took everything the iPhone did for me for granted.

All of a sudden I have no alarm clock, no maps, no flashlight, no thermometer, no recording device, no small camera, no small video recorder, no small notepad, no board games, no photo editing software, no travel guides, no mail containing flight info and travel insurance information, no photo souvenirs, no Spanish-English dictionary and verb conjugator, no English dictionary and thesaurus, no French-English translator, no articles and pre-updated newsfeeds, no bus schedule, no calculator, and not to mention no way to contact friends and family easily or instantly, music on the go, or access to google, email, banking, or Facebook at home.

This really puts in to question for me how it is that people managed to travel, work, and live abroad in foreign countries safely and easily before technology like this. Or do this lightly for that matter. It is extremely easy for us to pack enough stuff to last us weeks, and survive in almost any situation life down here might throw at us, in only two small backpacks. We felt perfectly confident in our ability to handle anything or any situation, and indeed we did. However, I realize now that this was all in very large thanks to my iPhone. Of course we could have and will survive just fine without it, but it will most definitely not be quite as easy.

Albeit not as convenient, it’s easy enough to find a replacement alarm clock, flashlight, camera, and notepad, even cell phone for some sort of contact with family and friends, but what about a map for any place at any time when you suddenly find yourself lost in a shady part of San Jose? Or a quick translator/dictionary when you find yourself struggling to communicate something essential. Or an international newsfeed in your language to keep abreast of any potential vital situation that might be happening in the country where you live or home country. I couldn’t even find a local Spanish newspaper here easily if I wanted to.

Without tools such as these you find yourself having to be all but completely reliant on the generosity and helpfulness of others, often times strangers. I feel like this may have been easier before tight communities somewhat disintegrated, placing instead a higher value on being self-reliant. Back when everyone used the system of ask a friend, write down directions, own a travel phrase book, bought news papers and/or pre-discussed a central meeting point before going out or doing anything. Back not long ago when people actually owned flashlights, alarm clocks, and weather predicting devises. When they carried a notepad and pen, and bought maps. I remember when my car had at least 3 or 4 different maps in it. If I had to buy a map today, I wouldn’t have the first clue where to find one.

All this to say, I think our reliance on technology has perhaps crossed that undetectable line.

21 hour roundtrip to Puntarenas

I originally wrote this for the Volunteer Experiences section of the SCLC website at work, which is a blog describing the various events and experiences living here in Sarapiqui Costa Rica, but I wanted to share it here too. So I have changed and added a few photos for here, but unfortunately many funny, sometimes hilarious, but always incriminating details and moments of our trip had to be omitted from the original article. Such as, the many people passed out drunk on the beach when we arrived, or how delicious Coconut rum was drunk with coconut water, or Cena throwing her hot dog and Chinese food on to the hood of the car for me to watch so she could get pulled up on stage to dance, or later handing me all of her possessions in a cowboy hat so she could run off in to the ocean after dancing up a sweaty storm, or the very drunk people on the bus scarfing down boxes of fried chicken with a beer still in hand. 

Puntarenas

The alarm went off at 2:30am. It can’t possibly be morning yet. Why would we leave at this god awful hour. This bed is so comfy. Can we hit snooze once more? All of these things flashed through our minds as we slowly and begrudgingly got out of bed, put on our pre-laid out clothes, grabbed our pre-packed bag and headed out the door across the street to Ana Jancy’s.

Much to our surprise, when we got there at 2:50am, everyone was already there. In fact, we were the last 2 to arrive. Mental note, when it comes to the beach, Ticos are extremely punctual. Everyone was already in beach wear, sipping coffee, coolers and bags by the door, patiently waiting for the bus to arrive. 3am on the dot the bus arrived, everyone piled in, and we took off on the 3 hour sleepy bus ride through the biological corridor, through Northern affluent San Jose, to the Pacific coast and the peninsula of Puntarenas.

Shortly after 6am we arrived. Passing small groups of drunk people still returning home from the night before ,we found a place to park among the empty stands and booths of the Carnaval and unloaded the van and all the coolers and bags Ana had brought to feed us all. Within minutes we found a table and she had set up her ‘kitchen’ and started making coffee, pulling out enough containers of sweet bread so that we would still have leftovers on the ride home 14 hours later.

Once we had absorbed enough of the magical healing powers of coffee, we soaked up our surroundings, taking in the beauty that is the early morning beach. Complete of course with tents, people waking up, and people still sleeping off the night before.

The next 6 hours passed like any other day in a beach town. People laying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, playing cards at a table in the shade, checking out the stands, listening to drummers, and then music from the grandstand. Not to mention the downsides of beach towns that include paying 1$ to go to the bathroom, 2$ for every bottle of water, 3$ for every coconut water, 4$ for hats to protect from the sun, and 10$ to rent a plastic table and chairs to move in to the shade.

About 3-4 o’clock is when things started heating up. The music started pumping from not only the grandstand, but several other booths, bars, and huts. People started drying themselves off from the ocean one last time, changing out of swimsuits in 1$ change rooms (or quickly for free in the sweltering bus), and wandering off in to the crowds of el Carnaval.

Shortly before the vaguely discussed time to go, everyone from Ana and her husband, to Yazmin and Jasmin, to Elena and Caitlin who had been on the ferry and at a separate beach, found themselves around the same place on the street near the bus either listening to or dancing to the intense beat of the drum group that first appeared earlier in the day.

Later around 8pm, after much dancing, the drum group finally disbanded and wandered off to find their own fiesta, and everyone slowly made their way back to the bus for the 3-4 hour trip back. As the bus managed to break itself free from the party that had surrounded it and we departed Puntarenas for Sarapiqui, some were already soundly sleeping in their seats, some still wet from the ocean, some eating fried chicken and passing around the leftover sweet bread from the morning, and some still chattering away about the excitement of the night.

Magical moments around every corner

Today marks one month since we left Bogota and set foot in Costa Rica (still another day until we would arrive here), and what a month it’s been. Absolutely flew by. The days here aren’t always magical, but there is always a magical quality to them.

Take yesterday for example. Cena and I spent a wonderful morning together enjoying her favourite morning food and relaxing in the hammock. As we were finishing she reminded me that it was Valentine’s day, and had a surprise for me later in the day. We then went to work and it was our turn to cook lunch for everyone so we headed to the kitchen to do recon on our stock and start preparing. Between then and eating, I managed to give myself a 2nd degree steam burn on my left thumb as well as a blister on my right finger. I spent the entire rest of the work afternoon, which included teaching, with sterile gauze wrapped around my thumb and latex glove with ice inside as a cold compress. But then, rather than enjoy a peaceful lunch as per usual, the Smiths (names changed for my protection) stopped by.

They’re the owners of the lodge next door, Selva Verde, as well as us, CECOS. They had been here all week popping in for visits, meetings, and tours of the building in which 80 year old Mrs Smith pointed out absolutely everything that she felt was wrong about the building (which turns out is close to everything) and what she would like done (which turns out is so unrealistic that it makes one question her sanity) while her daughter and our bosses followed taking copious notes and restraining themselves from suicide with their keychain lanyards. Yesterday was supposed to be their last day but they announced that they would actually be here for 5 more days... Then scheduled a meeting with Jenny (Boss B) after hours over the weekend, to her delight, before sitting down. Not to eat with us peasants of course, but to symbolically be there when we presented Raquel (Boss A) with a cake and bid her farewell and good luck as she leaves us today to go work in San Jose for the Selva Biological Corridor.

Then after the afternoon icing my thumb I taught my favourite class filled entirely with boys, and spent an hour and a half constantly asking/reminding them to simply speak English. After I finished and the boys left, the last one wished me Happy Valentine’s day, reminding me for the 2nd time. After locking up, oddly Cena wasn’t there to pick me up but had sent me a text telling me she was busy and to just meet her at home. When I walked up the yard to the house I could immediately smell a delicious aroma seeping out of the front door and window. She greeted me with an enormous and delighted smile, as usual, and then presented me with the best smelling rose of life, and a bottle of antibiotic cream for my burn. (True love.) Then brought me to the kitchen where she showed me the real surprise. She had made tapas!! To be specific, homemade beef dip tapas with peppercorn gouda cheese and au jus, and an incredibly aromatic brushetta with garden fresh tomatoes and cilantro. She had also bought the ingredients to make vino tinto to have along with our tapas.

As it turns out, I actually had a little surprise (very modest in compared with hers, but still food related), to give her too, obviously unrelated to Valentine’s day as I kept forgetting, but hers definitely out shown mine. So I have it prepared and waiting to have her taste it today.

Life here is like that though. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine, as is demonstrated by our evening terror scattering and sprinting to the fly swatter from the biggest flying bugs (or crawling bugs) we’ve ever seen, that decide at least a few times a week to pay us a visit. Or the fact that we have to wait along the highway for anywhere between 2 and 25 minutes in the pounding sun to take a hot bus in to town to get some groceries or find an atm. Or again that a downpour can strike at any minute soaking you to the bone, as it did Cena this week while she was walking to work (along a busy highway I might add) and unfortunately wearing a white t-shirt. Or going to the bathroom to find a huge lizard in the shower (as opposed to the little geckos that live everywhere in the house).

However, living here there are always magical moments waiting to be discovered around every corner. Walking back from the store to be invited in to your neighbours house for a cafecito and delicious sweet bread and end up spending the next hour and a half there. Or seeing other neighbours walk by on their way to the river and invite you along, and end up spending the next 2 hours jumping from a majestic looking place at the end of a path, swinging from yet another rope swing, and swimming trying to battle the current. Or those golden moments in the morning when the sun is shining through every orifice of the house, a plethora of birds are chirping away right outside (and sometimes inside), and the air and temperature are perfect. Or finding a lizard in your shower. Or in the afternoon at work taking a moment to look out at the magic that is the river and the rainforest. Or looking up your computer or book at work to see howler monkeys, iguanas having sex, bullet ants, butterflies, toucans, and poison-dart and blue-jean frogs. Or again with all the trips, tours and experiences we’ve been invited along to: the afternoon rafting down the Sarapiqui, the day catching lunch and a receiving a leisurely guided tour of the almost self-sustaining Finca Sura (finca=farm) and spending the next week enjoying freshly picked lime from the tree, the entire day at the beach and Carnaval at Puntarenas drinking water straight from coconuts, or the hours enjoying the breathtaking view and jumping from the bridge (others, not us) and rope swing at the swimming hole.

I sincerely look forward to many more months here.

50 shades of green: clarity in the rainforest

I feel like I can think more clearly here. Hear clearer (except for that water still in my ear from Saturday’s tree rope). See better. I feel like I am much more aware of my surroundings and environment. I mean, who wouldn’t be here? The air is fresh. Nature feels pristine and untouched. The river is sparkling and crisp. Animals and insects are all around us. Flowers in bloom. Monkeys and toucans in trees, not cages. I feel like my mind has been uncaged.

Just this morning before work I was sitting in the hammock letting the sun kiss my legs, listening to nothing but the sound of the birds and insects, and watching the two dogs play in the dirt. At that moment, with no other thoughts clouding my mind, a breakthrough in my thesis argument hit me. Out of the blue. Until then, I hadn’t given it a thought in months.

The other day after supper at the one restaurant in Chilamate, enjoying our beers on the terrace in the sun, Cena and I slipped in to a passionate conversation about changing gender roles and barriers through modern history, and their place in modern Latin America.

Work here doesn’t feel like it takes up all of my mental capacity, leaving me only thinking about work and work related subjects. Everything here is conducive to relaxation and peace. (Perhaps the root of the reason why Costa Rica hasn’t had an army since the 40s).

The first few days at work here I slipped right back in to my ‘office’ mode of efficient, organized, go go go. However I realized that I was wound up and stressed after work. There was no need to be. Since then I’ve been working on retaining the organization and efficiency, but really taking my time in doing things. Everything moves slowly here, there is no need for me to rush. And if it’s not done perfectly, it’s not a big deal. (A very big difference from my last few jobs like this). So now, rather than being cooped up in my office all day staring at my computer. I sometimes work at Selva Verde next door, surrounded by trees, staring out at the river, watching monkeys and birds. I sometimes work in the air conditioned library, chatting along the way. I sometimes work on the deck in the sun gazing out at our end of the river and rainforest for inspiration. And only sometimes in the office.

I feel that’s a very big reason why people down here in Central and Latin America are so happy and laid back. They’re not worried about controlling and perfecting everything little thing. Shit happens, and they let it. They go about their days taking things in as they come. Deal with problems when they arise. Sure, this means that they most definitely do not have the best economies in the world, nor are they the richest countries with “high” standards of living (say the people with “high” standards), but they are very happy and relaxed. And in the end, isn’t that what we all want?

First impression of Costa Rican rainforest weather

It’s really interesting to live in a place with consistent yet unpredictable weather. For example, every morning I wake up sans alarm around 6. This is not some desire to be an early riser, or to accomplish something specific before work, it is simply that it starts getting light out around 5-5:30 (and getting dark around the same time in the pm). Which means the rooster and chickens wake up around 4:30, and other animals and creatures progressively wake up after this. The 6am crescendo of sounds combined with bright Central American sun and clear blue skies pouring in through the windows and curtains are apparently too much for my body to resist. This so far is the routine every morning. However, come 8:30-9 o’clock, close to time to start walking to work, the sky may be closed off with clouds just waiting to start a series of downpours off and on all day; As was the case yesterday and today. Or this downpour might come unexpectedly at any point in the day, rolling in and pouring rain in a matter of minutes, breaking up the sometimes oppressive blanket of heat that normally characterizes the days.

When Cena and I first stepped off the bus in Puerto Viejo to wait for Yazmin and Sam to pick us up, the air was so thick it was almost hard to breathe. We were sweating just standing there in front of the bus terminal. However all around us were Ticos wearing pants. Bewildered by how they could be wearing long pants and jeans in that heat, we figured it must be our bodies that grew accustomed to the brisk Andean air and chilly to freezing nights. The first night we slept with both windows open in our room, only a sheet that just barely covered us, and we were so hot, sticky, and sweaty all night. The only relief from the heat came around 1am. The next day our top priority after orientation was buying a fan.

Last night however, as it was a ‘cooler’ night, we slept with one window closed, fan off, and a sheet AND a fuzzy blanket. Our bodies are adjusting nicely. Thankfully during the oppressive heat of the day we are normally at the Centre, which has the magic of air conditioning in the library.

Where we live – Moving to the Costa Rican rainforest

You know you live in the jungle when… You see ants on your cupboard and think, “meh.. they’re only little ants,” and walk away.

You know those photographs, postcards and advertisements of Costa Rica’s beautiful coastline dotted with palm trees, ocean huts, majestic mountains, fabulous resorts with pools and server boys? Well I don’t live there. I live in the jungle, a remote place (as remote as it gets in a country this size) that was first truly connected to the rest of the country about 30 years ago when they built the first highway going through the cloud forest to get here. Rather than island mansions that open up to pristine ocean, we live in the real Costa Rica. We feel like we’re camping, only every day.

The kitchen walls and the front door are nothing but bars, letting in the fresh rainforest air, droplets from the recent downpour, all the sounds of the jungle, as well as all the insects, creatures and birds that populate our area. We share a house with all kinds of spiders, bees, crawling insects, ants varying dramatically in size, flying insects, geckos, and the occasional visit from a cockroach or basilica lizard that Cena has named Sofie-Anne. However, we are (surprisingly) happy to do it. They are all just a fact of life here. As well as the toucans, parrots, and multitude of other birds Cena has been excitedly identifying. Not to mention the frogs, turtles, monkeys and sloths (the latter two we have yet to see in our few days here). You just have to sleep with a mosquito net to make sure you don’t wake up with one of anything on your chest.

You also have to be vigilant in your trips to the bathroom. Bathrooms seem to be like a neutral zone between humans and creatures, as they are the dark and damp corner of your house that is the least inhabited. (As there are also no mirrors anywhere in this part of the world, getting ready is not done in the bathroom. Not to mention no sink in the bathroom, nor hot water, so you don’t linger during showers either.) A trip to the bathroom first involves a quick scan of the floor before even entering to check for ants or crawling insects. Next, while still standing outside, to reach your hand in and turn on the light, checking for falling cockroaches and other flying insects. Next, to slowly peak your head in the shower checking for basilicas, geckos, birds and other creatures that might have slipped in through the bars. Finally, to check the toilet bowl for frogs before sitting down. Oh, you forgot to check behind the door and turns out there’s a lizard there that scares you half to death. (But it’s okay, in the end you make friends with her)

However, from these experiences and bathroom checklist you are rewarded by pristine beauty and scenery every way you turn. Be it walking to the store down a dirt road between houses and small communities/towns that inhabit the rainforest, sitting at work staring out directly at a large river and beautiful national reserve forest land, or eating breakfast looking out in to the jungle that is our backyard. Just as the downpours that lurk around every corner are worth it for living 1 minute from a beautiful river and seeing bright colours everywhere. And the lack of internet at home (no internet and no mirrors, what would North Americans do?) is absolutely worthwhile for the laidback ‘pura vida’ (good/pure life) that the Ticos (Costa Ricans) have adopted as their unofficial national slogan.

Since we do live in a quite remote area, communities are small and close. Bellegarde small. The main town, Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui, is the large one that has the 3 banks, bus station, 3-5 supermercados, hardware stores, car dealerships, schools, etc. It is 6km down the highway from us here in the community of Chilamate. Between us and Puerto Viejo is about 3 other little communities. Ours straddles the highway for a while between here and the Selva Verde lodge grounds and reserve where the SCLC (Sarapiqui Conservation and Learning Centre – where we work) is located. However, the main point of the community is comprised of a general store, a little grocery store, a bar/restaurant, (with karaoke of course, as basically all bars do here) and a hardware store, 2 on each side of the highway, and a little dirt road with about 6 lots that open to the river. Our house is on the second lot on the right. I say lots, because there is never just a house, but rather a group of houses owned by a main house.

On ours for example there is the main house where Rosi lives with her 3 boys, then a little side house more or less attached to the main house partitioned in to two separate sleeping quarters and bathrooms, and then the back house where we live. Yazmin, the Volunteer Coordinator and our immediate supervisor (who is also a hilarious opinionated American/Uruguayan gypsy), lives in the partition closest to us and has done so for the last year or year and a half, and Micheal, a Kiwi short term volunteer lives in the other one. In the house across the street from us and up about 20 feet towards the highway is Ana’s house in which her son Jorgé and Sam, an American short-term volunteer, live in a partitioned place across from the garage of the main house. In the main house with Ana lives Caitlin, an American EFL teacher married to a Peruvian (who is not here), who also just arrived here 2 days before us. Finally, on the same side down from ours is motel style accommodations, and next to that is Pablo’s place, a large Swiss style lodge that rents out to river guides and rafters, that has internet. We have yet to go over and properly meet Pablo, but he is another good friend of Yazmin’s, (along with Chandi, our Pirate taxi friend) and his place (as it has internet) is a hangout. Finally the Centre (or SCLC), is just a 5 minute walk down the highway.

It is so wonderful to be living in a close international community (in the jungle) where Sam stops by to say she’s going in to town with Chandi to the liquor store, and ask if we want anything, and we come out to find Yazmin and Chandi laying in one of our hammocks out front. Michael leaves his wine and fresca in our fridge, we go over to use Jorgé’s oven, and we find a very pregnant Rosi walking behind the kitchen wall/bars to collect eggs from the chickens out back.