Since my last post...

This is the incredible rainbow that I saw on the way back from Grecia on Sunday as the sun was setting. It was so beautiful that I had to stop by the side of the road to take a picture with my cell phone camera. Indio and I went to Grecia (Spanish for Greece) for an afternoon of dancing to live music at an open-air dance hall. My friends who live there, Lynn and Dolores, said to come on out, so we made the hour drive each way. It was fun, and Indio twirled Lynn and me on the dance floor. Someone stepped on my foot, but this time nothing broke.

The weekend before was Indio's 46th birthday. That Saturday night he and I and Susan and Dale went out to eat then to Coyunda's to dance. The next day I had three of Indio's sisters, a brother-in-law and a niece over for a birthday lunch. But I had a bad headache, so the sisters took over my kitchen and came up with chicken fajitas, flavored rice, homemade refried beans, and a salad. I had bought a chocolate cake at Robin's, and it was a nice family get-together. I realized that my Spanish understanding is improving.

I've been taking care of some medical things lately. I finally saw an orthopedist about the persistent pain in my lower back (sacroiliac joint). The xray showed a healthy spine, but degeneration (arthritis) in the lower area. He prescribed 10 sessions of physical therapy, which, after one session, seems to be helping, at least temporarily. I also saw my internist. It was time for an ultrasound to check my abdominal aorta. My grandmother died of an aortic aneurysm, and my mother had one but didn't die from it. So every couple of years I get checked. The ultrasound showed a normal aorta, but some mild hardening of the arteries, which is probably genetic. My bone dentist test showed that I'm still holding the line at severe osteopenia - my hips and wrist are somewhat weakened, but I've still got good bone mass in my spine.

So nothing earth-shattering is going on here. I have been living in Costa Rica over five years and still love it. The rainy season has passed and the days are mostly sunny with bright blue skies. Life is good.

Cledys Birthday Party

I want to post more blogs, but I'm too busy enjoying life to sit down and write. Also, I keep forgetting to carry my camera, and blogs are more fun to read when you can look at the pictures.

So thanks to Susan's camera, I have pictures from last night's birthday party for Cledys, mother of six, including my two friends Hazel and Cuca.

Yesterday I got a text message from Yalile inviting me to Cledys's 72nd birthday party at Cebolla Verde, a typical tico restaurant near me. Almost two years ago I met Cledys, Hazel, Cuca, Yalile and a bunch of other great ticos through my Canadian friend, Susan, and my life in Costa Rica really took off. I have been exposed to the real Costa Rica - its culture, food, music, and wonderful people.

The invitation said the party started at 5pm. At 6:05 I picked up Susan and her boyfriend, Dale, who is visiting from Canada, and we went to Cebolla Verde. We were the first ones there. Parties always start late in ticolandia. But then about 25 other people came, and the party began. I had an interesting conversation - all in Spanish, of course - with Carol, whose 29-year-old son Roberto works for the national parks department on the Isla de Coco, which is actually closer to Colombia than it is to Costa Rica's Pacific coast. Tourists pay thousands of dollars, she told me, to visit the island to see its biodiversity, which is why I will probably never see it. But she and her husband, Gilberth, may be invited to go next year as a gift to family members of park employees.

Hugo brought his guitar and led everyone in singing tico songs. A few were familiar, but most were old songs that folks grew up hearing. Hazel explained to me that Costa Rica used to have many fewer people than now (4.5 million now), and they were spread out across the country, which is divided by mountains. These songs traveled from area to area and united the people.

We finally got around to singing happy birthday to Cledys, in Spanish, and then in English. But they never cut the cake. This is not the first party I've been to where the cake wasn't cut. So I went home hungry. But happy to have spent a fun evening with friends.

Trip to Massachusetts 2010

Susan and me

What wonderful friends I have! I got a chance to see a few of my favorites in Massachusetts on my annual trip back.

I stay with Susan and Mel. Susan and I met at UMass eons ago, but established our friendship in the 80s when she was living in Maine and I was living in New Hampshire. Susan is one of the most generous and caring people I have ever met, and I'm so glad that we remain close friends.

Every year before I arrive, Susan shops for my favorite foods that I can't get in Costa Rica, like Wise potato chips, Kayem natural casing hot dogs and potatoes with real skins. She is an excellent cook. Between her delicious homemade meals and eating out, I gained five pounds in just 10 days this trip. I should be ashamed, but the pleasure of all the wonderful tastes fulfilled me in a way that only a trip back home can do.

I don't know when I became such a foodie, but I certainly enjoy biting into New England boiled lobster with drawn butter, fried clams and onion rings from Woodman's in Essex, lobster salad in toasted buns, creamy clam chowder, fried haddock and Susan's potato salad. My mouth is watering just reliving each of these experiences last week and the week before.

No trip back would be complete without visiting my old Unitarian Universalist church and spending time with Jasmine. She and I toured Barcelona together in May, and it was great to see her again. I am always moved when the choir sings, and when the congregation sings a familiar hymn. This time it was Spirit of Life, which is a real tearjerker.

This year I got to see an old friend, David, from junior high school. We had lunch together and reminisced. He looks the same except his blond hair is now white. But he still has that twinkle in his eyes.

My best day was spent with my oldest friend, Sandy, and Kathie. We met in high school. I had just moved from Beverly to Swampscott and didn't know a soul, and Sandy befriended me. On a glorious fall day, with the sun shining and the leaves starting to turn red and orange, the three of us drove along the New Hampshire coast, breathing in the fresh salt air. We treated ourselves to a fantastic lunch at the Wentworth by the Sea restaurant, where Kathie's friend's son gave us a 20% discount. Our table on the patio overlooked the harbor with tall masts. We enjoyed overstuffed lobster salad rolls, olive focaccia dipped in olive oil and creme brulee with fruit. It was soothing to reminisce about our high school years and friends. One of our classmates, Sally Martin, died just a little while ago. Not only was she Sandy's and Kathie's best friend, but she was Sandy's sister-in-law, too. Sally was a full-of-life person, happy, generous, and fun to be around. Someone took Sally's old blouses and made bracelets with matching earrings and glass cases from the material. I was fortunate to be there when we picked up the finished goods, which turned out beautiful. I got a red checked bracelet with earrings and a case that I put my cell phone in, so now I am reminded daily of Sally, Sandy and Kathie.

Susan had to work while I was there, but she arranged her hours so that we could do what we do best: shop at an outlet mall. Instead of Wrentham, this time we went up to Kittery. Oh yes, I stimulated the local economy with my purchases. In fact, flying back to Costa Rica, I had to pay extra for one overweight bag. I bought a lot of books and vitamins on this trip which weighed a lot.

Susan, Mel and I took a day trip to the western part of the state to go to the Big E, an annual farm show that is like Topsfield Fair on steroids. We saw a sheep being sheared, llamas, cows and pigs. We ate typical fair food: corn dog, the greasiest fried onion rings ever, Italian sausage with onions and peppers, ice cream, nachos. There was a gigantic pumpkin there, and a parade of Clydesdale horses. We skipped the amusement rides, but visited the pavilions for each of the New England states. I slept on the way back.

On my last full day, I visited my Aunt Ethel. Ethel is an amazing person, and my role model for growing older. She is 99 and moved to an assisted living home this year. Also this year, her husband, who was 14 years younger than her, died. She has to sell her house, which she bought as an independent widow in the 50s, to pay for her new home. She and I have a special relationship. We both see the glass half full, if not overflowing. We talked about all sorts of things, and parted by saying, "See you next year."

Pool Day at Rosemary's

Lisa and Marilyn picked me up at 9am and we drove 55 minutes on the new highway out to Rosemary and Barry's house, just before Jacó. It was an overcast day, but perfect for lounging out in their new salt water pool, and admiring the open view. We saw wild macaws fly overhead, and dragonflies kept up company most of the afternoon.

The others did water aerobics with their noodles, while I babied my sacroiliac joint, which still hurts a lot from the car accident. It was fun and very relaxing, bouncing around in the water, and talking about this and that. I always love to hear Rosemary talk about creativity (she leads creativity workshops for professionals around the world).

Then we muddied up our faces with volcanic mud from the Osa Peninsula. When we washed off the mud, my face felt very soft and light, as though I had dropped a pound or two from my face.

We gathered around a handsome wood table, beautifully set, and dined well. Lisa and Marilyn had stopped at Fresh Market for sandwiches and chips. Rosemary made a salad. Barry had bought a delicious ceviche with different kinds of fish. I brought brownies that I had made. Well, from a mix.

Cerro de la Muerte

Joy, Sima, Glenda, Rosa, Vicky, Estilita, Carolyn and me

A bunch of my Cariari friends and I went on a day trip to Cerro de la Muerte, the road that leads to the highest point in Costa Rica where it has been known to snow on occasion. It didn't snow where we were, but it did rain. By the bucketfuls. But did that stop us? No!

We rented a tourist bus and were regaled by Marcos, the tour guide who is very knowledgeable about all things ecological. Our destination was the Mirador de Quetzal, which means the quetzal lookout, or vista. The quetzal is a beautiful bird with a long blue tail. Unfortunately, we didn't see any quetzals on our trip because of the rain.

We did see a lot of hummingbirds, though. At the mirador, there were dozens of the tiny birds sipping through their pointy beaks from the feeders. We ate well, too: a plentiful meal of comida típica served family style.

Here we are, drowned rats on a hike in the rain. We saw a 1000-year-old cypress tree, lots of moss, and a primordial forest.

Car Crash a Great Experience

I was slowing down for a stop light in bumper-to-bumper traffic when the RAV4 crashed into my rear bumper, nearly forcing my car to hit the one in front of it. We got out of our cars, shaking, to assess the damage: his radiator was emptying its contents into the street and his bumper was dented; my entire back end was demolished and I couldn't open the rear left door. No one was hurt, although at the time the back of my head and neck ached, but the next day I was okay.

The law says to leave the cars where they are and not to move them, so the heavy traffic backed up even more and had to go around us. The owner of the other car, Manuel, a businessman about my age, called the transito police, and I called my insurance company. Manuel had no insurance.

When the transito cop arrived, he looked at the cars, which were stilled joined at the bumpers, and told me to move my car to the side of the road. I said that I had to leave my car there until my insurance adjuster came so he could see what happened. The cop said, and I quote as a translate, "I am the transito police, and this is an order. Move your car." I asked if he was going to take a picture of the accident scene, and he said no. I moved my car, and Manuel moved his car, and the traffic breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Manuel was very kind from the get-go. He said the accident was his fault, which was obviously the case, but still, I could have met up against someone who said it was the gringa's fault and could later prove it at the judge's office with a dozen relatives who swore they were there at the time. Oh yes, those things happen here.

I was having a little trouble understanding everything being said in Spanish, until Manuel's daughter, Alejandra, arrived and translated for me. It's funny, even though she talked to me in English, I answered her, the police and the adjuster in Spanish. I wanted to be sure they had my side of the story.

Even though my insurance could have paid for the damage of my car, and then I would have had to pay higher premiums, Manuel offered to pay for repairing my car. He told me to get an estimate and let him know how much it would be. I thought, wow, I'm lucky to have been hit by a good guy.

Manuel's car was towed away, but I was able to drive mine. I went straight to two body shops. One would charge $600 and take a week; the other, recommended by the insurance company, would charge $1700 and take two weeks. I talked with Manuel's daughter and told her I'd be happy to go with the $600 body shop, and she said her father would give me the money so I could pay the shop.

Manuel and I also had to go to the courthouse together to say that we agreed to settle the repairs outside of the insurance company, so we arranged to go the next day. We met there and handed in our paperwork from the transito cop, and showed our IDs. The clerk said that because my car was owned by my corporation, I had to show proof that I was the owner of the corporation. Now, why didn't the transito cop tell me that? Manuel offered to accompany me to the Registro Nacional, a few blocks away, so I could get a Personaría Jurídica. He even paid for it, about $2.60. Then we went back to the judge's office and completed the paperwork. All the time, we were talking about his printing company and the school that he owns where his daughter works, and about my teaching English and being a marketing consultant, and how hard it was to learn a language at our age.

When we left the judge's office, we had one signed document that said we had settled the case. We walked around the corner to make copies for him and me (which Manuel paid for).

Before we parted, I asked him if he had been talking on his cell phone when he hit me. I wondered because his phone kept ringing after the accident. He said no, that he has high blood pressure and was supposed to wait 30-60 minutes after eating before doing anything. He had eaten but gotten right into his car, and was dozing off when he hit me. He said he was glad the accident only cost him money. It could have happened on the highway at high speed, or he could have driven off a cliff (easy to do around here). I told him that it was a shame that the accident had to happen, but I was glad that he was so nice about it and I was happy to have made his acquaintance. We parted with a handshake a kiss on the cheek.

Coco Futbol Team's 40th Anniversary

One of my two hangouts, El Coco, has been sponsoring a futbol (soccer) game the first Sunday in August for 40 years. I went last year; this year I understood more about futbol so I could follow along better. The game coincides with the last day of a week-long festival in Santa Ana, and La Romería, the day that devout Catholics make their way (mostly by walking) to La Virgen de los Angeles in Cartago.

There were a couple of near misses when the soccer ball (la pelota) went whizzing by our heads, but no one was injured. It was great fun to watch our friends run around, kicking the ball, or at least trying to. It's the fastest I've ever seen them move.

After the game, there was a little parade and my favorite band, La Solucion, was playing on the stage. People milled about everywhere, playing games of chance, Tico Bingo (to support the Red Cross), and generally having a good time. On Sundays, no one stays inside.

Then we went to El Coco for the day. Susan, Indio and I wanted to be sure we got a table, because we knew there would be a lot of people going there after the game. Hugo and his cousin started playing music at 3:00, and we danced, ate and drank until about 7pm.

I am not much of a drinker, and after a miserable 59th birthday spent hugging the porcelain bowl, I stay away from tequila. But guaro, that's much smoother going down, and it packs just as much punch. I hardly ever drink it, but something made me order a shot of it for Indio and myself (Susan had her own whiskey). The look on the waiter's face was priceless. He knows I don't drink much, and I've never ordered guaro before. But he brought two shot glasses, and I downed mine like a trooper all at once. Susan and Indio were surprised and impressed. It kicked in about 10 minutes later. I was happy, happy, happy. And we all had a good time.