Tonight while sitting in a chair with a very travel battered (read: wrinkly) dress in my lap, I used my curling iron to eliminate each and every wrinkle. I believe the adjective ‘intrepid’ may now be officially used to describe my traveling prowess.
When I was a kid and pissed at one (or both) of my parents for who knows what ridiculous reason, I used to dream about how AWESOME it would be to be an adult and be able to make all my own decisions. For the past several “growned up” years I’ve often laughed at just how wrong I was. I mean ALWAYS being barefoot and NEVER having to worry about dinner are incredible indulgences. Both of which are better than just about all of my new-found independences put together.
I have discovered the best part of autonomy. I spent an evening in the kitchen preparing dinner (yes, dinner) and this is what I came up with…
Homemade Costa Rican Chocolate Rum Banana Bread (adapted to include organic, shade grown cocoa and Guatemalan Aged Rum) and Jagermeister Hot Chocolate with Cuban Cigar Milk Foam - dude, > 40 herbs! Did I mention this was for DINNER?
I’m never eating lima beans. Ever. Again.
The Name of Our Local Supermarket Chain
In the tiny little town of Uvita (if the population exceeds 1,000 I will rollerskate through the town wearing a sandwich board reading, ‘Beware of Motopussy’) there are TWO BMs…
If you have the same sense of humor as a 12 year old boy, like I do, it will make you snicker every time you see it. It also leads to some funny quotes:
· “Do you want to go big BM or little BM today?”
· “The big BM has a better fruits/vegetable selection”
· “That BM ruined my skirt”
· “You’ll see two BMs; the first one is smaller than the second one”
· “The BMs are so different, even though they’re the same”
· “Gotta make a BM run”
· “The little BM will be easier”
· “We won’t make it much longer without heading into town for BM”
Oh the joys of being a moron in a foreign land…!
It is an irrefutable fact that 99.9% of all songs sung in Español include the word ‘Corazon’.
It is also undeniable that Howler Monkeys in our yard are going apesh*t crazy because they are equally as excited that we will be able to watch the Charger v. Vikings game in the jungle today.
We just spent a week in Iowa. At some point along our international jaunt I thought, ‘there may actually be a few similarities between the jungle and the midwest in the summertime: i.e. the constant heat, the humidity, the insects, the thunderstorms, etc.’… I was clearly mistaken.
Costa Rica is an indescribably beautiful, eye-opening, words-can’t-describe experience, with one or two minor differences to living back home.
You Know You Live in the Rainforest When:
- The path by which you climb the 2500 ft elevation change to get home is determined by which river will be passable dependent on weather patterns of the past few days.
- Howler Monkeys wake you up at 5 a.m. Every. Day.
- It is completely normal, acceptable, perhaps even expected to slap with yourself with such vigor that it leaves red welts (for at least an hour), several times a day because you are convinced you are killing a ravenous, blood-sucking bastard mosquito with an insatiable appetite who has made it his duty to suck you lifeless.
- You find yourself taking more pictures of insects (which are absolutely appalling) than ANYTHING else. Why? I don’t even like looking at them, don’t want to be reminded of them, nor will I flip through my Costa Rica pictures years from now with fondness thinking, ‘Aww, look at that sweet little critter who terrified me to the extent that I slapped myself silly.’
- Your hair never completely dries. Never.
- Every 4th or 5th day you grab something out of the closet, it is completely covered in mold.
- You must look into your glass before ever sip. Trust me. Every. Single. Sip.
- You suddenly become concerned that the house is being attacked by means of cannon fire only to find that several overripe papayas have recently dropped from the massive tree outside in quick succession, scaring the bejezus out of you.
- Even during the day, you have to light an insect coil and carry it with you just to get to the pool to avoid later becoming convinced that a boyfriend, who shall rename nameless, must have put itching powder on your side of the bed as some kind of sadistic prank.
- Every time you go to pick a few Starfruit for a smoothie, pancakes or perhaps a cocktail each one of them has a small little monkey-bite taken out of them.
- The sound of the 4:30 afternoon alarm is the squealing of our Toucans. It’s like clockwork, it’s amazing, but I still don’t have a single Fruit Loop to show for it. Whoever claimed that the Nose Knows is a mentiroso.
- You find the 5 am and 4:30 pm alarms helpful since you NEVER know what time it is since every clock in the house is ALWAYS wrong due to the power going out each time it thunders, which is at least three times a day.
- The sliding glass doors must be closed in order to drown out the damned waterfall (which never seems to turn off or just simply ‘Shoosh!’) so that one can hear every word of the ever-brilliant programming of Teletica. Seriously, it’s LOUD.
- You time one another to see how fast you can make it through the screen doors and try to break the house-record each time.
- You count 58 bug bites in one day. 58. One day.
- You stand at the bedroom door, still sweating at 11 o’clock at night, pleading with the sapos (bullfrogs) to ‘pretty please shut the hell up so that I can get some sleep?!?’
- You find yourself spending more time studying the Wildlife Guide than writing updates for Tumblr.