No cell phone, so I can't go skating...

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  SJ, Costa Rica
Thursday, March 8, 2007

This is rather long, but I think it's funny... so keep reading! ;)

Lost in Costa Rica

Episode 1: Let me start by saying that Babel is an awesome and thought provoking film and I highly recommend it.

I went to see Babel in San Jose with a friend and we left the theater and got on the same bus that we had arrived on. (A lot of buses go in loops, as you will see, this is not one of them.) Before paying, I asked if the bus went to "the center", meaning the center of San Jose. However, I should have been more explicit. The driver replied yes, but I suppose he meant the center of wherever the bus was headed.

It was already 9:30 and the last bus to my site left at 10:15. Not to worry. We had plenty of time. (Emphasis on plenty.) We were chatting and didnīt notice that we were going UP a mountain. Strange... San Jose is BACK, DOWN that way... See all those lights BELOW us? We were perplexed. Maybe the bus went up a ways and then back down to SJ in a roundabout route. Nope. After arguing whether or not to ask the driver where we were headed and face the embarrassment, we walked to the front.

Where were we headed? A town in the mountains that is definitely NOT SJ. Does the bus go in a loop? Not until tomorrow! Whoops... Stranded. No phones. Should we get off the bus now or try our luck in this mountain town where there are probably no hotels? A taxi driver, a pirate taxi driver, was listening to our conversation (we were at a bus stop and the doors were open.) He offered to drive us back to SJ. Of course, by then, there was no way weīd make the 10:15.

So we got in... Two girls... Alone... In a pirata taxi which sounded like it was falling apart and the driver didnīt seem to grasp the concept of driving in only one lane. We promised each other that if we were kidnapped or murdered or anything worse, that the other survivor, if there were any, could keep the otherīs personal items.

But our lives arenīt THAT exciting. We made it to downtown SJ, the hotel PC has a contract with, and paid the driver 15,000. ($30) We heaved big sighs of relief at the hotel and at the reception desk, learned our worries were not yet over. We had 6,000 between us. The hotel was 12,000. Great... Just great that we still hadnīt gotten paid (it was the end of the month, Jan 29).

My companion through all this had emptied her bank account just that morning. She had more than enough to go to the movies and for transportation home. Of course, this was before we knew that weīd be paying a fortune for taxis and hotels. Luckily, I had money on my bank card. Whew. Saved again...

What did I learn? Cell phones are helpful. Donīt count on getting paid Friday or Monday if everyone swears up and down you will. Donīt empty your accounts.

How did I apply lessons learned? I caved into the Posh Corps crowd and bought a cell phone. After living 7 months without one, you really feel liberated. Sigh... the chains of modern society are sometimes a necessary evil.

Episode 2: Three weeks later.

I went to visit my training host family who had moved to Guacimo. On the other side of the country. Poor me, I always got Guacimo mixed up with Guapiles. They sound alike! Of course, I got on a bus to Guapiles. I called them on the bus from my handy dandy cell phone to let them know I was on a bus to Guapiles. "GUAPILES?! We live in Guacimo!" Great... Well it was too late to get off. Luckily for me, Guacimo is only 15 minutes by car from Guapiles. Made it okay. And I abashedly greeted them when I got off the bus. (They were so kind as to pick me up in Guapiles...)

I donīt think a map would help. Anyhow, thank goodness I bought a cell phone, huh?


The Dangers of Skating

I went skating the other night. How skating works here is there are companies that rent gymnasiums in pueblos (neighborhoods) and then you, the sucker, pay the entrance fee and skate your little heart away.

Fact 1: Ticos skate like they drive. Loco. If they issued bumpers, power side mirrors, rearview mirrors, never-fail blinkers, windshield wipers and On-Star Navigation systems with the skates, I donīt think it would help one bit.

Fact 2: Personal space means nothing. If someone bumps into, straight into you, not a glancing swipe, but a full on rear end collision, donīt expect an apology.

Fact 3: Kira has a big mouth. But we all knew that. For all my bragging about how in the US, I always go skating in the park (which is a REAL park, not a square of cement and benches and a few mangy trees), in the neighborhood (which has smooth, plane sidewalks), and around parking lots (that are meant for more than 5 cars), I was, in reality, out of practice. Sure, I went skating all during the summer break before coming down here. But a) in-lines are different from roller skates b) skating by yourself in broad daylight at your OWN pace is different from a space the size of your grandmotherīs backyard in obscure disco lighting with "carajillos" (kids) zipping all about showing off. Anyhow, I can safely say that I prefer things MY way, stateside.

Fact 4: Surely this falls under the list of prescribed discouraged activities in the Peace Corps manual, along with sky-diving, sharing water bottles and utensils, and skinny dipping with sting rays. Iīve painted a picture of what the place was like: dark, full of hooligans going 10 mph, 80īs music (never imagined Iīd be in Peace Corps roller skating to Thriller and Ghostbusters). Plus the little yahoos are bumping into you at every turn. As I carefully made my way around the edge of the gym, (the place wasnīt big enough for a slow lane) frantically trying to stay on my feet (I CAN, by the way, skate. Just not under stressful conditions.) and avoid collisions, I could hear the Angel of Administrative Separation (governmental acronym alert! A.S.) hovering above my shoulder. (Are those disco balls or CIA micro-cameras?)

Fact 5: I really WOULD have called the Embassy and set the Marine Corps on those carajillos that kept skating behind me and shrieking in unnaturally high pitches to scare me, IF it wouldnīt have gotten me AS-ed faster than they can skate around the gym. (Maybe the only thing going faster than the kids was the rising of my blood pressure and heart rate.) I wouldīve settled for a good smack upside the head, but figured Costa Rican personal space doesnīt extend that far. Besides, as a PCV, we are called to respect others, keep our hands and feet to ourselves (something they apparently donīt teach in Kindergarten here), and always act in a dignified and culturally sensitive manner in all situations. Sigh...

Fact 6: Fast paced music is dangerous, affects the listener (as in, letīs pick up the pace!!) and should be banned under these conditions. Reggae-tone music (right on top of my list of annoying things along with leaky pens and crooked wall hangings) needs to be sent straight to the nether-hells of bad music along with... well, Iīll stop my big mouth there and let you fill in the blank.

Anyhow, got home okay and my friends said, "Iīll call you the next time we go skating!" Oops, my cell phone just lost signal...

PS- Took a different route to SJ today. The bus stopped in front of an Office Depot. I had a strange urge to jump out my window and drop 50 bucks on useless office supplies. Then I remembered I didn't HAVE 50 bucks and that my window wasn't open...

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