Well, today was another interesting day with unexpected activity. I was rushing to do errands, make my 10:30 chiropractor appointment, then drive to Multiplaza (Mall) to have lunch with a new friend. I drove downtown Santa Ana, parked my car, went back to it and it would not start. Deader than dead. With no warning.
Fortunately, I was diagonally across the street from a gas station with a mechanic, so I got three of the guys to come over and figure out the problem. They tested the battery, the fuses, then figured out that the problem was with the starter. One of them hit the starter with a screwdriver and then the car started.
The only English-speaking mechanic told me to go to the central car parts place to buy a new starter. So I went to Don Esteban and asked for a starter. They needed to know the Spanish word. I didn't know the Spanish word. After much discussion by everyone in the parts shop, the guy waiting on me called someone to get the phone number of the bilingual gas station guy, Ernesto, who helped me, to find out what I needed. Turned out I needed un arrancador (starter in Spanish - remember this word; there will be a quiz). The guy looked up the arrancador for my car, but he didn't have one in stock. Meanwhile, a mechanic named ChiChi who was at the parts store told me he could fix my arrancador today for $35-44. I waited to hear what a new arrancador would cost if he could get one: $300. !Ay caramba!
So I followed ChiChi around the corner to his shop. There was an English-speaking customer just leaving who vouched for ChiChi's work, so I left my car there. "Come back in three hours," he said. Okay, that would make it 2:30. The shop was around another corner from my chiropractor's office, so I walked over there, and Dr. Jim took me right away (I've had a headache for two days and I needed an adjustment). By then it was 11:35 and I was supposed to be at the mall to meet my friend who has no cell phone five minutes ago. I knew I couldn't make it to the mall in good time if I waited for the bus, so Dr. Jim called his favorite taxi driver and I ended up paying $4 to get to the mall. There has been construction going on for the last several months to widen the highway, and some offramps have been closed, including the one to the mall, so Weymar had to drive all the way around the mall to get me to the front door.
I found my friend and we were just washing our hands before we sat down to have lunch, when my friend, Maria, walked in with a friend of hers. I told Maria about my car, and she offered to drive me back to Santa Ana after my friend and I had lunch, which was a godsend because I didn't know where the bus stop was anymore since the offramp was closed.
So my friend and I had lunch, then Maria and I did a little shopping. I finally bought a rice cooker, which is supposed to cook perfect rice every time (unlike my soggy or stuck-to-the-pan rice). Then Maria and I headed to Santa Ana, where she dropped me off at the mechanic's place.
Of course, the car was not ready. "Ahorita," ChiChi said, which can mean in just a minute or in just a few hours; in other words, tico time. Then he said 20 minutes. Of course, being a gringa, I thought he actually meant 20 minutes. I walked around Santa Ana, did a little window shopping, stopped at the post office, then arrived back at the shop in 30 minutes. Nope, not ready yet.
Summer has finally arrived, which I didn't even realize because inside my apartment it is cool; so cool, in fact, that I still wear socks and long pajamas to bed at night. Walking around the hot and dusty town made me thirsty. So I walked down the street to a new German restaurant and had a cold soda. This time when I got back, the car was ready. It started up right away. And the price: only $31.
Can you say "starter" in Spanish?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Free Concert and Asian Market
I decided at the last minute to drive into San Jose late this morning to attend a lunchtime concert and to shop at SuperSony, the Asian market. I called a couple of friends to see if they wanted to go with me, but they already had plans. Which was fine. I like venturing off by myself.
Both places are on Calle 3 (Third Street), right in the heart of downtown San Jose. I parked in a lot and walked down the pedestrian mall that Calle 3 has become to the Teatro Nacional (National Theatre). The cultural commission wants to introduce more culture to ticos, so they are offering Tuesday lunchtime mini-concerts lasting 30-40 minutes inside the beautiful theatre for only $1. Since I have legal temporary residency, that's the price I pay, too. Everyone else (read: tourists) has to pay $9.
I was standing in line to buy a ticket when an usher told the people behind me that today's tickets were sold out. This was only the second Tuesday mini-concert and I was surprised that it was already sold out. I could buy a ticket for next week's concert, but I didn't want to shlep all the way back into San Jose again (it's really not that big of a deal, but I do like the comfort of staying put in Santa Ana, which is only about 10 miles from the theatre).
So I left the theatre and stood outside where 200 or so people were milling around. This is a very popular area, with the Grand Hotel and the Cultural Park right there. I started talking to a tico tour guide who was waiting for people to take a walking tour of San Jose (I've already taken it and it's fascinating) and told him the tickets were sold out. He went over to a gringo and asked if he had an extra ticket.
The gringo, Gordon, happened to have four tickets, two for him and his wife, and two that he was not going to use because they were for his friend who had a heart attack and had to go back to the States. So he gave me a ticket. Free! I offered to pay the $1, but he waved me off. He wanted to give me the other unused ticket, too. He said, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I said no. He said, "Well, go find one and he can have this extra ticket." It was very funny. I looked around the square and didn't see anyone remotely likely to be a boyfriend of mine.
All of a sudden the tour guide came up to us with another woman (no, sorry, this does not have a boyfriend happy ending) who needed a ticket. Mayra is a tica about my age who lives and works in Manuel Antonio (tourist resort area with howler monkeys and a pretty beach on the west coast) and took a few days off to come to the city for vacation. Gordon gave her the ticket, and we all went into the theatre together.
We had about 25 minutes before the concert began, and Mayra and I talked for the entire time in Spanish. She loves to travel, and I'm starting to get wanderlust, so we had much to talk about.
The concert was fantastic! Four young pianists each played a piano piece - WITHOUT SHEET MUSIC! They played pieces from Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt with mucho gusto. Gordon had bought tickets in the front row center, so we were able to see every emotional facial gesture that the pianists made, and they made a lot. The concert was thoroughly enjoyable.
As the full house let out, I lost track of Mayra, which is too bad, because we had much in common, and I would like to have gotten her contact information.
From the theatre, I walked back down Calle 3, and stopped in at a friend's B&B. Alf Richardson is a Brit who came to Costa Rica from Kenya several years ago, and was my first date after I moved here. He took me to the annual Robbie Burns dinner at the Costa Rica Country Club (a very hoity toity place). Alf bought a B&B in a great location and recently finished renovating it. Just this week I had an opportunity to refer some people to his place, so I thought I would stop in at Casa Alfi and see what he had done. I got a tour of the place, which is very nice, and the prices are extremely reasonable (starting at $30 for a single).
My last stop was SuperSony. I have no idea why it's called that. I bought fresh tofu (I'm going to make stir fry tonight), potstickers, chili paste, sesame oil, rice crackers and a few other things that I can't get at my local yuppie supermarket.
Somehow I got lost driving home. All the streets in San Jose are one-ways and I couldn't drive down the street that was going in the direction I wanted because a hospital was plunked down in the middle of the street. So I kept veering left and finally ended up just where I thought I might, which made me feel really good that I have a sense now of where I am, even if I'm not on a street that I recognize. After 3.5 years here, I can finally find my way out of a wet paper bag.
Both places are on Calle 3 (Third Street), right in the heart of downtown San Jose. I parked in a lot and walked down the pedestrian mall that Calle 3 has become to the Teatro Nacional (National Theatre). The cultural commission wants to introduce more culture to ticos, so they are offering Tuesday lunchtime mini-concerts lasting 30-40 minutes inside the beautiful theatre for only $1. Since I have legal temporary residency, that's the price I pay, too. Everyone else (read: tourists) has to pay $9.
I was standing in line to buy a ticket when an usher told the people behind me that today's tickets were sold out. This was only the second Tuesday mini-concert and I was surprised that it was already sold out. I could buy a ticket for next week's concert, but I didn't want to shlep all the way back into San Jose again (it's really not that big of a deal, but I do like the comfort of staying put in Santa Ana, which is only about 10 miles from the theatre).
So I left the theatre and stood outside where 200 or so people were milling around. This is a very popular area, with the Grand Hotel and the Cultural Park right there. I started talking to a tico tour guide who was waiting for people to take a walking tour of San Jose (I've already taken it and it's fascinating) and told him the tickets were sold out. He went over to a gringo and asked if he had an extra ticket.
The gringo, Gordon, happened to have four tickets, two for him and his wife, and two that he was not going to use because they were for his friend who had a heart attack and had to go back to the States. So he gave me a ticket. Free! I offered to pay the $1, but he waved me off. He wanted to give me the other unused ticket, too. He said, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I said no. He said, "Well, go find one and he can have this extra ticket." It was very funny. I looked around the square and didn't see anyone remotely likely to be a boyfriend of mine.
All of a sudden the tour guide came up to us with another woman (no, sorry, this does not have a boyfriend happy ending) who needed a ticket. Mayra is a tica about my age who lives and works in Manuel Antonio (tourist resort area with howler monkeys and a pretty beach on the west coast) and took a few days off to come to the city for vacation. Gordon gave her the ticket, and we all went into the theatre together.
We had about 25 minutes before the concert began, and Mayra and I talked for the entire time in Spanish. She loves to travel, and I'm starting to get wanderlust, so we had much to talk about.
The concert was fantastic! Four young pianists each played a piano piece - WITHOUT SHEET MUSIC! They played pieces from Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt with mucho gusto. Gordon had bought tickets in the front row center, so we were able to see every emotional facial gesture that the pianists made, and they made a lot. The concert was thoroughly enjoyable.
As the full house let out, I lost track of Mayra, which is too bad, because we had much in common, and I would like to have gotten her contact information.
From the theatre, I walked back down Calle 3, and stopped in at a friend's B&B. Alf Richardson is a Brit who came to Costa Rica from Kenya several years ago, and was my first date after I moved here. He took me to the annual Robbie Burns dinner at the Costa Rica Country Club (a very hoity toity place). Alf bought a B&B in a great location and recently finished renovating it. Just this week I had an opportunity to refer some people to his place, so I thought I would stop in at Casa Alfi and see what he had done. I got a tour of the place, which is very nice, and the prices are extremely reasonable (starting at $30 for a single).
My last stop was SuperSony. I have no idea why it's called that. I bought fresh tofu (I'm going to make stir fry tonight), potstickers, chili paste, sesame oil, rice crackers and a few other things that I can't get at my local yuppie supermarket.
Somehow I got lost driving home. All the streets in San Jose are one-ways and I couldn't drive down the street that was going in the direction I wanted because a hospital was plunked down in the middle of the street. So I kept veering left and finally ended up just where I thought I might, which made me feel really good that I have a sense now of where I am, even if I'm not on a street that I recognize. After 3.5 years here, I can finally find my way out of a wet paper bag.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Wild Women's Weekend February 2009
Two new CouchSurfing friends and I decided to take off for a long weekend to the beach. I had been to Montezuma but Santa Teresa was new for me. Both are located near the southern tip of the Nicoya peninsula on the Pacific coast.Ellen was in charge of planning transportation, and I called around to find rooms. Getting there was part of the adventure. We took the bus from Santa Ana to San Jose, then 2.5-hour bus to Puntarenas where we were supposed to take the 2:30 ferry so we could meet yet another bus on the other shore. But in Puntarenas we found out the 2:30 bus had been delayed to 3:45, and we didn't think we'd be able to make the bus connection to arrive at our hotel that night. Uh oh, what to do?
We saw a couple of 20-something guys driving an SUV (surfboards on top), waiting for a ferry to a different port on the other side. Age emboldens, as this story shows. Ellen and I (59 and 58) went up to the guys (Ben and Jesse) and asked if the three of us could catch a ride with them from the port on the other side to a central town where we would be able to catch a bus to Montezuma, and arrive at our hotel that night. They agreed. Then we had to buy tickets for that ferry that was already starting to load. The ticket line was very long, and we didn't want to miss boarding with the guys, so I went to the front of the line and asked a cute young guy (in Spanish) if he would buy me three tickets. He did, and we all boarded the ferry.
Getting off the ferry, we set off in the SUV over one of the bumpiest dirt roads I have seen in Costa Rica, and I have seen many. Ben, the driver, thought it was an amusement ride, and we three women in the back were airborne for much of the ride. But we made it to Cobano a good 45 minutes before the bus would leave for Montezuma. Instead of waiting around, though, we splurged on a taxi and drove into Montezuma while it was still light.
Montezuma is a throwback to the old hippie days. You can get high just walking along the street, and street vendors sell jewelry, pipes and other paraphernalia. Our room at El Tajalin had three single beds and air conditioning, and we stayed for two nights.
On Friday, we hiked up the waterfall to a big watering hole where we spent the day swimming and lying in the sun. The water was fresh, clean and refreshing. The place was a melting pot, and I met people from all over. The couple from Kanab, Utah, was my favorite. Bobbi and Sky seemed to be really enjoying their retirement. There was a woman in her 40s from Germany who has been traveling for 1.5 years, making and selling jewelry along the way. Her mother was currently visiting her from Germany for two months. Martin, from British Columbia, dared to dive from the rocks (I found out later that people have been killed doing just that) and put on a show for the audience below. I thought I was watching a suicide until he surfaced. There was a young Canadian family with two little girls who made it up the waterfall. That was no easy feat. I was wearing my Tevas and developed three blisters from the hike, one on the bottom of my foot that burst and caused me to lay off walking for the next couple of days.
Saturday morning we took a van then a bus into Santa Teresa. This is becoming a world-famous surfing community, and rooms were hard to come by. We shared a room at Casa Zen for $10/person per night. Casa Zen had a Thai restaurant, but we ate most of our meals around the corner at a small soda called All Natural. They made delicious chicken curry, bacon and eggs, ceviche to order, and a fantastic banana mango smoothie. The food was cheap (about $4 per meal) and very satisfying.
The beach was at the end of the block. It was a surfing beach, but we could go in up to our waists and bodysurf. The waves crashed on us, but there wasn't a serious riptide to pull us out. The sand was fine and soft, and there were plenty of palm trees to provide shade from the hot sun. Life, indeed, was very good there.
Nancy, my CouchSurfing houseguest, hooked up with Charlie, a guy we met at the beach. Charlie is from the US and speaks Spanish. He was working at a call center in El Salvador when a family with two small children passed through town in an old converted school bus and invited him to be their nanny. He left the job, boarded the bus with only the clothes on his back, his passport and a book, and away they went to Costa Rica. It was love at first sight for Nancy and Charlie, so Ellen and I took off for home on Monday morning without her. Some women are a little wilder than others.
My First CouchSurfing Experience
I like to meet people, and I like to try new things. So I joined CouchSurfing. I offer travelers my extra bedroom when they are passing through and when it's convenient for me, and when I want to travel, I can contact CouchSurfers in the area I'll be visiting to see if they can accommodate me.
No sooner had I joined this organization when I received a request from Nancy, a 36-year-old Australian who was traveling the world solo for a year. She wanted to stay with me for a few days, and after checking her references online, I invited her to my place.
CouchSurfing is also a social group that plans parties and get-togethers. The day I met Nancy, she and I attended a CS lunch, where we met about 40 others - some travelers but mostly folks who live around here. The group was split by age - young'uns in their 20s and 30s, and us older folks in our 50s and up. I was happy to meet these new people, and look forward to seeing them again. In fact, this Friday some of us older women are getting together for lunch, and on Sunday the group is having a cheesecake party.
Nancy stayed here four nights and to my delight, she turned out to be a wonderful cook and a massage therapist. From her Chinese background, she learned to make delicious meals from just a few ingredients. I took notes and now I'm feeding myself the way she fed me. She also saved me a couple of visits to the chiropractor by doing deep-tissue massage on my neck, shoulders and back.
One of the women I met at the CS lunch is Ellen, who lives on Vancouver Island in Canada, but is staying here in Costa Rica for a few months. She, Nancy and I decided to take off last weekend on a Wild Women's Weekend to the tip of the Nicoya peninsula on the Pacific coast. See my post on that fun adventure!
No sooner had I joined this organization when I received a request from Nancy, a 36-year-old Australian who was traveling the world solo for a year. She wanted to stay with me for a few days, and after checking her references online, I invited her to my place.
CouchSurfing is also a social group that plans parties and get-togethers. The day I met Nancy, she and I attended a CS lunch, where we met about 40 others - some travelers but mostly folks who live around here. The group was split by age - young'uns in their 20s and 30s, and us older folks in our 50s and up. I was happy to meet these new people, and look forward to seeing them again. In fact, this Friday some of us older women are getting together for lunch, and on Sunday the group is having a cheesecake party.
Nancy stayed here four nights and to my delight, she turned out to be a wonderful cook and a massage therapist. From her Chinese background, she learned to make delicious meals from just a few ingredients. I took notes and now I'm feeding myself the way she fed me. She also saved me a couple of visits to the chiropractor by doing deep-tissue massage on my neck, shoulders and back.
One of the women I met at the CS lunch is Ellen, who lives on Vancouver Island in Canada, but is staying here in Costa Rica for a few months. She, Nancy and I decided to take off last weekend on a Wild Women's Weekend to the tip of the Nicoya peninsula on the Pacific coast. See my post on that fun adventure!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
La Lunada Potluck Jam Session
Last night I went to my first (and hopefully not my last) Lunada, thanks to the invitation of Sally O'Boyle. Sally sings in a band with other folks around our age called Harmony Roads. Once a month around the full moon (Lunada), the band members and invited guests who are musical and some who are not gather at the beautiful home of Barry Biesanz, the leader of the pack and exquisite artisan who works with wood.
The house is situated high on a mountain in Escazu with an astounding view of the Central Valley. The musicians jammed in a room lined with windows, so the audience had a sweeping view of twinkling lights in the background.
Before getting down to the business of making music, we shared a potluck dinner. Most of the gatherings I go to involve bringing food to share. I brought my easy-to-make coconut flan pie, which got wolfed down before I had a chance to take a bite (a blessing in disguise?). In turn, I stuffed myself with homemade bread, curried chicken salad, and Hal's delicious lentil soup, which I had also had for lunch when I was at Hal and Sally's house earlier in the day.
Harmony Roads bills itself as Costa Rica's oldest gringo band, playing eclectic music: oldies, country, folk, blues, 50s, and rock and roll. La Lunada wasn't a concert, although I did enjoy listening to the music. The experience for me was more of seeing close up how people get together and create music, like making magic. They brought their guitars, violin, drums, harmonica, voices and put them together, and out came songs.
The musicians had fun making their music, and for one song, I jumped in and banged a tambourine in rhythm (I hope) to a country song. The greatest delight was the attendance of Ben and his violin. Barry found him on Craigslist and invited him to come to the event. Ben is very talented and could improvise on any tune.
This morning I've still got music on my brain. Yee haw!
The house is situated high on a mountain in Escazu with an astounding view of the Central Valley. The musicians jammed in a room lined with windows, so the audience had a sweeping view of twinkling lights in the background.
Before getting down to the business of making music, we shared a potluck dinner. Most of the gatherings I go to involve bringing food to share. I brought my easy-to-make coconut flan pie, which got wolfed down before I had a chance to take a bite (a blessing in disguise?). In turn, I stuffed myself with homemade bread, curried chicken salad, and Hal's delicious lentil soup, which I had also had for lunch when I was at Hal and Sally's house earlier in the day.
Harmony Roads bills itself as Costa Rica's oldest gringo band, playing eclectic music: oldies, country, folk, blues, 50s, and rock and roll. La Lunada wasn't a concert, although I did enjoy listening to the music. The experience for me was more of seeing close up how people get together and create music, like making magic. They brought their guitars, violin, drums, harmonica, voices and put them together, and out came songs.
The musicians had fun making their music, and for one song, I jumped in and banged a tambourine in rhythm (I hope) to a country song. The greatest delight was the attendance of Ben and his violin. Barry found him on Craigslist and invited him to come to the event. Ben is very talented and could improvise on any tune.
This morning I've still got music on my brain. Yee haw!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
SuperBowl Party 2009
I'm a big New England Patriots fan. For some weird reason, the Patriots didn't make it into the SuperBowl playoffs, even though they had 11 wins and only 5 losses during the regular season.
So I had no vested interest in which team won the SuperBowl. But there's something about the Pittsburgh Steelers that I just don't like. Maybe it's their yellow and black uniform that I find threatening, or maybe it's the meanness and unusual heft of their defense, or the fact that they have beaten my team. Whatever the reason, I didn't want to see them win the trophy. I had no problems with the Arizona Cardinals, though. I didn't know much about them, other than the team moved from St. Louis. But they must have done something right to have made it as far as the SuperBowl. So I decided to root for them.
Diane hosted the big SuperBowl party on Sunday. During this season and last, we took turns hosting football parties to watch our favorite teams: Diane's Dallas Cowboys, Ellen's Miami Dolphins, and my Patriots. I have a tendency to get obnoxiously excited when my team is winning, but my friends tolerate me just the same.
On Sunday about 13 of us brought food and drinks to Diane's, and settled in to watch The Game. Somehow I lucked out and got to sit in the big chair - a leather recliner that tilts so far back that it becomes a bed. I lack the weight/power to close the leg rest, so once I'm reclined, I have to climb over the side to get in or out, like a toddler in a crib.
To make the game interesting, we all placed bets in a pool. Diane and Mark created a grid, and we each paid $2 for a cell in the grid. I bought two cells. Depending on the score at the end of each quarter, someone would win $10, and the big winner would take home $20. I won nada, zilch, zero.
Not only did I win nada, zilch, zero in the group bet, but I had a side bet with Shell. Shell is my sworn nemesis. Whomever I cheer for, he cheers for the other team. In 2006 and 2007 when the Patriots were in contention, Shell was particularly nasty to me, which is probably why I have become so obnoxiously excited about my team. So even though I didn't really care too much if Arizona beat Pittsburgh, I bet Shell that the Cardinals would win. The last quarter's action was electrifying for both teams, and Shell and I ribbed each other mercilessly as each team scored. But we all know how the game ended: Pittsburgh beat Arizona 27 to 23. And I had to hand over another $2 to a jubilant Shell.
I did come away richer, though, from having shared a fun evening with friends and eaten delicious food.
Monday, February 2, 2009
CRL Get Together at Tequila Joe's
Saturday I went to a CRL get together at Tequila Joe's in Santa Ana. CRL stands for Costa Rica Living. It's a Yahoo group that I joined four years ago (could it be that long ago?!) when I was thinking of moving to Costa Rica. It's composed of about 4500 non-Costa Ricans who either live in Costa Rica or want to.When I was first researching Costa Rica on the Internet from my home in Florida, I was befriended by several people in CRL, a couple of whom are still friends. By reading the questions and answers about everyday life and moving to a foreign country, I learned much of what helped me land on my feet when I finally made the move in August of 2005.
Every few months, whoever feels like it initiates a lunch get-together at a different restaurant. I volunteered to scope out Tequila Joe's because It would mean not having to drive very far. I talked to the owner, an American (geez, there are so many of us here), who assured me the indoor/outdoor restaurant could accommodate 100 or more of us, all with individual checks. The moderators of the Yahoo group decided this would be the place, so about 35 of us turned up for lunch. The Mexican food was just okay, but the socializing was very good.
I got to see old friends (George and Fred, John from Texas, Sharon/Dick/Maia - original friends from four years ago, LizBrit and Dick, Janet and Courney, Steve my grammar buddy, bold and funny Robbie, Sally/Hal and their two handome manchildren -to call them boys is such an understatement) and made some new ones.
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