Monteverde

We went to Monteverde last weekend. What a fascinating community with its history of Quaker war resistors and its fierce protection of the cloud forest. Perhaps the most interesting park was the Children's Eternal Forest, a huge reserve of land that was initially purchased in the 1980´s through a grassroots effort involving children bringing pocket change to school and contributing it toward purchasing a part of the rainforest. The children of Sweden alone raised $1 million to purchase land and their government was so proud of their effort that it kicked in another $1,000,000.
We saw a nesting pair of emerald toucanettes, a young male quetzal, lots of orchids in an orchid garden, and the kids and Dad went to a bat exhibit where they learned a bunch about these really amazing and important animals. Of course we went into the Monteverde reserve and relished the views of the different layers of the forest. We also ate some really good food at local restaurants.

Zena walking on road to our cabin

Butterfly or moth that Eva spotted

In the orchid garden



The whole fam in the cloud forest



Known as the squeaky gate bird--an ethereal sound

Un sapo Eva

A "Glass Butterfly"--1st time we saw this transparent winged butterfly. Photo by Asa.

Agouti on the run. Photo by Asa.

Toucanette we saw at breakfast

Long bus ride, including a break-down back to Turrialba

What I miss and don't miss

As we cherish our last weeks here I am reminded of what I miss and don't miss about Anchorage. I don't miss angry, lewd bumper stickers. I don't miss car culture and how unwalkable Anchorage is. I don't miss how liability consistently gets in the way of being a compassionate human being. I don't miss the McDonaldization of many business interactions ("we can only do it this way"). I don't miss the loooong stretch of lots of dark in the winter. I don't miss malls and I don't miss catalogs--interestingly our children are not begging for certain toys or items with nearly the frequency as when catalogs were arriving in heaps at our door. I don't miss paying $3 for one unripe avocado. I don't miss reading nauseating headlines in the news. I don't miss the comodification of almost everything--advice, health, interactions with the natural world.

I do miss the subtle fresh and sweet smell of cottonwood sap beginning to flow in spring. I miss the coziness of being inside with hot cocoa and knitting. I miss decent beer, vegie burgers, good Thai food, and, I admit, Costco being nearby. I miss our friends, our Waldorf community, and being closer to family. We all miss cross country skiing and ice skating. I miss sewing, access to beautiful fabrics, and look forward to getting into it upon return. I do look forward to a safer driving culture. I miss bookstores and the Loussac library. I miss the Zen community.

Birds

As I write this, it is 5:42AM, and I am outside on the balcony. The sun is already shining into the valley below and I hear an intricate tapestry of bird songs. It is mating season, the migrating birds are still passing through Costa Rica to the U.S., and they are all trying to outdo the other with their arias and peels. Now we are counting the weeks before we must return to Alaska and these early mornings with just the birds seem ever more precious to savor.

Our bird enthusiasm really got catalyzed by participating in the Turrialba Chirstmas bird count in mid-December. Asa and I got up early and went to observe as many bird species as we could with expert birders on the CATIE campus. Asa buddied up with a fellow doing his dissertation on toucans, and we learned an immense amount about many of the local species.

Since then, we have been able to spot and name a number of species and avidly look up new species in our bird book. Asa has also delved into drawing birds--toucans, a quetzal, and others. Just last week I accompanied Asa and his class on a field trip to help with an ongoing bird monitoring project. It was so fun to watch these budding scientists collect the birds out of nets, help measure them, look for body fat and other features, and then, best of all, to hold the bird in hand and let it free again. The Indigo Bunting, in particular, was shockingly beautiful with all variations of turquoise and blue tones. Seeing them up close was like seeing jewels up close.

Then this last weekend, we went to el Mirador de Quetzales in search of said bird. We stayed the night in a little cabin and had comunal meals in a lodge with a variety of European visitors. It reminded me of the gites I used to stay in with a hiking group I was part of during my year in beautiful southern France. And indeed, upon waking in the chilly morning air at 5:30AM and downing some coffee and hot chocolate, Asa and I walked into the deep woods with tall oaks and thanks to a very keen guide, saw quetzals! We saw an immature male and a couple of females. They were distinctly turquoise against the greenery behind and didn't have the long tail feathers of the glamourous adult male, but nonetheless they were mellow enough in their branch that we got some very good views and felt lucky indeed.

I finish this entry sitting on the balcony again listening to the clay colored robin, a rather plain looking bird, that is Costa Rica's national bird. Indeed, it harkens of the melodious robin's song in Alaska, and reminds us that although a long ways away, its cousin will be welcoming us when we return in a few months.

Asa and fellow birder at Christmas bird count

Looking for birds at CATIE pond and for caiman

Our frequent Mot-Mot visitor at our house

A shy quetzal

Female quetzal--not as resplendant as male but beautiful nonetheless

Fiery throated hummingbird. Scores of them at Mirador de Quetzales.



Releasing birds at monitoring project



Semana Santa

Semana Santa, or "Holy Week" was full of color, cooking, and witnessing intense faith. The kids had the week off from school and so lots of play time ensued. We had a couple of playmates over at different times, visited a live snake park, dyed eggs, and Eva made cookies filled with dulce de leche with Rebeca. We tried dying our eggs with beet juice (cooked and uncooked), purple cabbage juice, and even achiote--a natural colorant used for arroz con pollo here, in addition to standard green and red food coloring.

One day we had the pleasure of having Icela, Rebeca's two-year old daughter, over to visit. On Sacred Thursday, businesses shut down, liquor sections of stores were cordoned off, and we attended an evening mass at the local church where there was a foot washing of the "disciples", a group of 12 churchgoers, all notably women, and the priest did the washing. The next day was the pinnacle of Semana Santa for Ticos, Good Friday, when we attended a "procesion", in which the journey of Jesus ending in his crucifixion is acted out by churchgoers on a walk from station to station, according to his last interactions, a walk of about a mile or so to the local church and a rather graphic and, for young children especially, gasping portrayal of the crucifixion.

Easter Morning--el conejo de Pascua found us

Easter egg dying with friend Declan, or "Duckling" as Eva calls him

Making galletas with Rebeca--a recipe from her mama

Local Good Friday "Procesion"

Vipors!

Unusual double plume of steam from resident Volcan Turrialba (by Asa)

Frog friend

Purple rainy dusk photo by Asa

Yikes--are those babies texting each other?

Art on the floor

Toucan Day

Today was a hang out at home kind of day. The muchachos, Yojan y Jefferson, spent the night with Asa last night. Asa says he heard Jefferson saying his prayers before he went to sleep, and Asa supplied him with all the names of our family members for him to include in his prayers. All three boys slept in the queen bed downstairs. And everybody was up by 6AM today, mainly due to Zena's early morning squealing.

We were so lucky that Tim spotted a pair of keel billed toucans out of the kitchen window at about 6:30 AM and that we got not only a good luck but even a photo of one. It's been a long time, many months, in fact, since we've seen a toucan so close. These are really one of the most dramatically beautiful birds with a huge bill that has yellow, green, orange in it and black, yellow and red coloring on their bodies. Here's a zoomed in photo Asa took.

The muchachos were so excited to see it as well. They said that it was the first toucan they'd ever seen, just like the kind they had been drawing! After the sighting, they went to work drawing more toucans, then breakfast, then we blew eggs and they painted them. What sweet boys they are, so polite and happy to play with Asa. We are so grateful for their friendship.

Yojan, Jefferson, Asa drawing toucans

Sunday breakfast around the round table

For some fresh air and exercise, I went on my little 3 mile run up the hill. A cow was peeing out the side of a truck in a huge gush as I ran by. A few drops landed on me but fortunately I missed the hydrant. It has all of a sudden gotten hotter again here. I got sunburned on my run.

We are entering Semana Santa, a very special holiday week here. People either go to the beach or on vacation somewhere or they stay at home and partake in the processions, masses, and make lots of traditional food, much of which is very sweet. Interestingly, Good Friday is the most special of the days around Easter, when everything is closed. Around this time, churchgoers will re-enact Jesus' last days with the washing of his disciples feet, a procession imitating his own last procession to his crucifixion. In essence it seems the community is re-living the process of the Crucifixion. Then on Sunday, apparently, everyone parties.

This is interesting to compare to my experience of Easter growing up. The big deal was always Easter Sunday, when the focus was on Jesus arising and the Easter bunny came and there was a potluck at church. Here is a photo of a posada in Granada a few weeks ago. Tim was just reflecting on how meaningful it was to see the community carrying Jesus, who represents any individual human being bearing his cross, or facing his own suffering. He noted that this is in fact the only way any of us can face our own suffering, utterly by ourselves, but hopefully supported and carried by a community of people, or sangha, in our practice.



Jesus in traffic





Turning 44 in Manuel Antonio

For my 44th birthday, on December 11, we decided to go to Manuel Antonio, a small but famous national park on the Pacific side of the country. It was a long, hot drive and a hot walk to the actual Manuel Antonio beach but well worth it. Not only is it stunningly beautiful with its crescent shape, white sand, bathwater temperature turquoise sea, but also wildlife is abounding. On the trail in we saw a sloth and a walking stick. Then we were treated to a troop of capuchin monkeys, several with babies on their backs, marauding the beach looking for food, and we met the most pesky, intrepid raccoons trying to steal our food. While we were beating them back, literally, with sticks, a French couple next to us was feeding them their chips!

We had a lovely time at the beach and I felt so grateful for all that I've experienced and have in my presence at the 44th year mark: my children, my partner in life, Tim, all my extended family, friends, teachers, and for the dream made true of spending nearly a year in precious Costa Rica.

Manuel Antonio

Mama and baby monkey

Another mama and baby capuchin near beach

On the trail at Manuel Antonio

Some cake and fireworks for 44

The view from our room at Costa Verde

Birthday Breakfast

Granada, Nicaragua

We arrived in Granada six days ago. What a soulful city with its colonial style houses with pastel colored outsides facing the street and splendid tile and iron work with lush courtyard gardens and fountains on the inside. We are staying at a restored colonial house on a working class street. One of our favorite activities has been sitting in the birdcage window in the mornings and watching a vignette of Granada coming to life and people walking or biking to work or school. I love the scenes of couples or even families mounted on the same bicycle, the person in front sitting sidesaddle on the bar with the person behind intimately close and quietly peddling them both forward. The sound of horses clopping along is a sound that has been here for hundreds of years, and we hear this every day as working people regularly use horses and carts for transport and to do their work.

The house we are renting comes with several turtles and two rescued parrots. Sometimes we find a turtle in the corner of the shower or wandering across the floor. The parrots are a little "bravo" (mean) and one bit Zena on the finger. Needless to say she´s since been more cautious about sticking her hands in their cage.

This is clearly a much poorer country than Costa Rica with street children, run-down taxis, few private cars, and shanty housing just behind the back wall of the house we are renting. How much of this poverty is related to the U.S.'s involvement in the Iran Contra war and related sanctions against Nicaragua? Perhaps more than most Americans know.

(Written a few days later) Nicas were not as friendly as Ticos, but what can you expect after a recent, bloody war and politicians running off with your money all the time? Nonetheless, we felt as safe as we would in any large Latin American city.

Highlights of our trip included a walking tour of the city with Giaconda, a local opera singer who sang us several beautiful songs about Granada in her traditional colonial regalia, one of which was about how Granada, Nicaragua was more beautiful than Granada, Spain. While she was singing, a couple of other tourists happened alon; come to find out they were from Spain but weren't easily offended and gave her an ovation afterward. We even bumped into the same man who used to sell her coconut sweets outside her childhood school, which he was only a block away from. He´d been selling the same confections for thirty years.Other delights: Drinking cold "pinolillo" (a drink of cocoa, toasted corn, cinnamon, and sugar) out of a gourd at the chocolate museum in a beautiful courtyard garden with a fountain. Watching giant puppets play out a story of political and sexual relations between colonists and indigenous Nicaraguans, man and woman in the street after dinner.

And, because of the Lent season, an efigy of Jesus would come through the street holding his cross every morning and night, carried by committed churchgoers and accompanied by a small brass band with a drum, he swaying from side to side with a shiny purple robe. The kids would usually peer through the wrought iron birdcage window at him every morning and got into a routine of "waiting for Jesus" to pass by at night.

We went on a boat tour of las isletas where we saw houses of the rich and then within throwing distance of their mansions, we spent some time with a very poor family on another island who fish out of the lake and sell papayas. They were roasting an iguana for dinner--somehow iguana doesn't count as meat for Lent.

I was also intrigued by these beautiful, short aprons women would wear as they sold their items at the market or cleaned, each with lots of tiered layers of ruffles with trim--perhaps a practical and everyday vestige of the Spanish inspired flamenco dress.

Eva, Zena, Tim peeking out of the birdcage

Our resident turtle meandering through the house

Nica woman putting out wares (she wearing one of those wedding cake aprons)

Our beautiful but hot open air house

Our tour with beautiful Giaconda

Cooling off at the chocolate museum

Zena and Eva cooling off in the courtyard of our house