3 de abril de 2010

The Holy Week
(will it ever end?)

Sunday

Hola compañer@s. The journey out of Heredia went as well as can be expected. On Sunday, reeling from my $52.00 two-night stay in Hotel Heredia, I decided to get out of there as soon as possible. I caught an early bus to San José and went exploring, hoping to find some recognizable landmark that would tell me where the correct bus station was (there are about 14 of them). After walking around San José for half a day, I finally settled down at a little place called the Molino Rojo. I was too tired to argue about price, so I graciously paid the ¢5500 (about $11.00) and put my blistered feet up in a hammock (and, later, a bed).

Monday

I took off at a lively 4:45 am to go catch the bus to Bagaces and Aguas Claras. Lo and behold, this bus actually had to be paid for in advance--something I only figured out once someone told me that I was in her seat. Later on I was grateful for the advice, as a good 20 people were standing in the aisle. This was well worth the ¢3050 ($6.10) ticket. I dozed most of the way to Aguas Claras and immediately hopped the bus for Colonia Libertad (which, in case you ever make it up that way, costs ¢700 [$1.40]). Once there, I quickly walked to the finca (ranch), hoping to catch the 1:00 bus after grabbing my debit card and some extra cash.

I ran into Pablo, the husband of Ana and co-owner of La Anita ranch. He was honestly about the nicest Costa Rican guy I've met so far. He was very concerned about my living situation and told me that he would help me work it out. He let me into the "Love Shack" (a house where people who work on the farm often stay) and I got a couple changes of clothes and a new towel. Unfortunately, I discovered that I had left my much-loved pink towel at the Hotel Heredia. So much for the wise advice of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I took off without further adieu and walked as quickly as my aching feet would allow toward the bus stop.

The bus, of course, had already gone--for the last time that day, as it would happen--by the time I got there. I asked the two policemen across from the school if they had actually seen the bus leave (not that you can miss a large beige bus in Colonia Libertad) and they answered in the affirmative. I asked them if it was indeed the last bus, and once again they concurred that there were now no other buses to be leaving from Colonia Libertad. I thanked them for the reality check and headed on my way--on foot.

About three and a half minutes exactly after I started heading out, a delivery truck that was headed my way came into view. I hailed the driver, who graciously stopped, put all of the things that were strewn about the passenger seat back into the broken glove box, put the glove box itself back into one piece, and invited me in. I asked him how far he was going and he said Aguas Claras. Life was looking positive. He drove the old trusty Isuzu like Mario Andretti might have driven a rental car and I was at the bus stop in no time. We passed the beige bus on the way and I managed to suppress a snicker of joy. I was so appreciative of his lifesaving attitude that I laid ¢5000 on the cab seat before getting out. He tried to hand it back to me but I refused. When I can, I like to provide incentives for random acts of kindness.

The rest of the trip to Liberia was fairly uneventful, although I did have to go through Bagaces to get there. Once in Liberia I looked around and saw a couple of different signs for hotels. After deciding that the "hospedaje" closest to the bus station was a little over-priced, I dragged my feet up to the Hotel Guanacaste ($11.00/night) and settled in with the ants. The Guanacaste had a great wireless connection and was the temporary residence of a whole host of interesting world travelers, so it seemed like a great place to spend a few nights.

The first night, I had dinner with the Project Ganas director, Sara, and her partner, and said goodbye to them and thanked them for the opportunity of teaching here. I met two young Belgian ladies, an Australian mate and a tico mae. We got into a long discussion involving "typical" Americans, geography, and languages that lasted several beers. When the conversation degenerated into an academic argument about the causes of the two Great Wars, we decided to head over to the bar next door to see what was going on there. A few beers afterwards, I had been characterized as emasculated for failing to invoke chauvinism in my interaction with the waitress. Go figure.

Tuesday

The next day involved a good amount of recovery. I chastised myself for drinking beer, promised to never drink beer again--all of the usual comments one makes to oneself when recovering from hops. The next night, however, I was at it again, this time with two American girls who had been traveling through Central America learning about geography and Spanish. After a while we started talking with a couple of ticos, and after a few beers we decided to drive around in a car and smoke. The two girls said it was probably the best last night they could have asked for. Awesome.
Wednesday

The next day was almost wholly uneventful. I was supposed to go to the beach, but it didn't work out so well. I stayed in my hotel room for most of the day, which convinced me that it was probably time for a change in hotels. It's a little hard to be living around bugs and all that in a hot, stuffy cramped room with no light. Great for a couple of nights, but not for a week's stay.

Thursday

So the next day I packed up, turned in the key and headed off to Hotel Wilson ($28.00/night). Though considerably more expensive, the Wilson has elegant rooms and a staff much more disposed to being friendly and complaisant. Still a little bit worn down from the dreariness of my Guanacaste digs, I settled into my room, unpacked my backpack and started watching TV (yes, I know--quite out-of-character). The only thing on was a program about the patriarchs of Israel (or, depending on your perspective, of Islam), and so I shut off the TV and turned to Skype for help. Shout-outs to sloth, purple and metuka for cheering me up. Also, thanks to Mario for taking me to (insert name of corporate fast food joint here).

Friday

I woke up in a good mood after a good sleep on a good bed in a good hotel with great lighting. I also had a pretty good morning. I saw the procession forming for Good Friday on my way to go say hi to my tico friend at the Guanacaste. He and I watched the procession go by, talked about agnosticism, and then took a walk around town. We parted ways at the central park and I came back to the hotel. For some strange reason, I ended up taking an extremely long nap, which is why I am still up at three in the morning writing this post. Blah. Why do I insist on doing this to myself?

Tomorrow, things like buses should start operating again. Unless disaster befalls me, I'm probably going to head to the beach and come back here to the Wilson for one more night. Henceforth I should be making these posts on weekends when I travel out of the Colonia. We'll see how long it takes me to set up some kind of internet connection in Colonia Libertad.