June 21
Last day in Costa Rica. The town I've lived in for the past month, San Ramon, is not a great town. It is forty five minutes from San Jose, small, family oriented and structured (like I would imagine most towns in Costa Rica are) around two large churches. The town is situated in a valley surrounded by mountains that are aesthetically pleasing, but the town itself is dirty and plain. The restaurants, bars and businesses are unspectacular. The young people of San Ramon, I would imagine, want out. Those who have lived here their entire lives have great family and friends and it is a fine place to raise a family. The many stray dogs that run free in the city move amongst the people with a strange normality, and I like to think many of them have fascinating stories. The image that sticks with me the most from this entire trip is that of walking down the street in San Ramon one evening and passing many people walking single file on the sidewalk and in the middle of them was a dog walking the same path. He was some sort of terrier mix, with what looked like a gray beard, lending him the quality of an old man and he reminded me of a haggard street bum, world weary, head down, fully capable, but the victim of a few bad breaks somewhere off in a foggy past. I was curious about his destination. A few moments later it began to rain. I opened my umbrella, looked both ways, crossed the street and walked home. When I arrived I ate a traditional Costa Rican dinner and as it was each night, dinner was excellent.
June 12
I spent many hours Sunday night in a Costa Rican hospital. Few things can prepare one for this type of experience. Combat perhaps. Or the fortitude to watch paint crack and peel away while sick, bloody and battered people are paraded past. The hospital was bleak and lonely, dark hallways leading to dull light - just enough to illuminate the path to the different wings. A character from a Stephen King novel would have been rather at home. The place was busy for a Sunday night (at least 50 people waiting) and I witnessed a veritable smorgasbord of ailments and horror: a hallway filled with car crash victims wearing neck braces and lying completely still as family members held out hope, screeching children, and the man before me in line had a heart attack (he made it.) Most affecting though was the flooding out of a family into the parking lot and the sobs of one teenage girl. The second that sound hits your ears, you know. Turned out it was her boyfriend, car crash. I only confirmed this the next day, but I knew then. The night was cold and damp. Eventually I had an x ray and no precautions (lead) were taken. Finally, for the first time since I can remember I received an injection ... in my backside. I felt the pain medication, warm as it coursed through my veins and all I'd seen before seemed to have happened quite a long time ago.
June 11
On my last night in Montezuma I sprained my ankle walking down a staircase at a hotel on the side of a hill. If it weren't for dumb luck I would have fallen off the entire side of the thing. The following morning I took a 90 minute bus ride from Cabano to the Ferry in Paguera, bouncing up and down like train pistons, waiting for the bus to fall apart and for us to just be there, open in the wind - wheels and seats - coasting. The engine and body chasing behind us, sparks flying. Then the one hour ferry ride across the bay to Puntarenas filled with sloppily drunken Ticos, returning from a beach day, and unwashed backpackers. Finally it was a fifty minute taxi ride to San Ramon, captained by the world's most impatient Tico. At one point he skidded to a stop in front of a house where a man holding a siphon hose and a huge can of gas filled the taxi and opened my door shouting, "Hola, Gringos." What followed was terror of the blood curdling variety as the cabbie passed no less than thirty cars and punched the gas into every dangerous, bordering on circular curve, as the mountainous roads climbed and plunged.
June 9th
Visited the remote island of Tortuga today and snorkled off it´s coast. Saw a vast array of tropical fish, coral reefs and an eel. Later I leaned up against a large piece of driftwood, enjoyed a taste of the Devil's lettuce, put my hands behind my head and watched. In the background the rhythms of a live Costa Rican band, very drum heavy, were ever present and entwined with the island´s movements. A beautiful pair of French lesbians had an impromptu photo shoot on the rocks to my left. I watched a while then glanced across the bay. Waves crashed hard against the wall of another solid green island, white foam spraying up along the dark edge and returning to the sea.
