11.14.2009
11.05.2009
nemesis
I couldn’t help myself; I had to buy tickets to see David Gray at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall…eight hours before the show. I was trying to be practical and save the cash for our move this month, but an awesome deal presented itself and I couldn’t say no. I knew Jesse would be psyched and it turned out to be a really fantastic show.
The gorgeous venue was constructed in 1927 and still retains opulent glamour from that era. We arrived shortly after 8:00pm (after a brief trip to the eclectic Virginia Café, where we discussed what we’re going to do with our lives). We were ushered into the dark auditorium and shown our seats, which despite being many rows from the stage were just perfect. It’s the kind of place where just about every seat is a good seat.
As soon as we were seated, my attention snapped to the stage where Lisa Hannigan, the opening act, was singing. We were familiar with the vocalist due to her prior working relationship with singer Damien Rice (whose “Delicate” was our instrumental processional song). I felt fairly ambivalent upon learning that she’d be opening for David Gray, but my sentiment quickly turned to sheer captivation as we listened.
That lady can sing. Not only does she have a powerful, soaring, goose bump-producing voice, but she’s lovely and vaguely awkward and charming and funny. I can’t wait to get a hold of her CD, learn the lyrics and pretend I’m her while singing my lungs out in my living room (when Jesse’s at work or otherwise indisposed).
Early on in the show, Jesse commented on how excited he felt at that very moment, and I couldn’t agree more. He said he’s normally excited in anticipation of catching a concert, but this exhilaration was bleeding into the performance itself. I was so pleased that I made the impulsive, fun decision to get those tickets!
After intermission, David Gray took the stage with his band. All of them were dressed in nearly identical light brown suits, looking like dapper musicians from the 50’s. They looked to be having a good time, goofing around and taking in the enormous crowd. Gray began to sing and from then on I couldn’t really stop smiling. His voice too was notably marvelous – meeting all of the expectations we had after listening to the melodically luxurious album “Life in Slow Motion.” That title track was played, along with just one more from that disc. We heard his popular older songs “Babylon” and “Sail Away With Me” and many from the most recent CD.
The gorgeous venue was constructed in 1927 and still retains opulent glamour from that era. We arrived shortly after 8:00pm (after a brief trip to the eclectic Virginia Café, where we discussed what we’re going to do with our lives). We were ushered into the dark auditorium and shown our seats, which despite being many rows from the stage were just perfect. It’s the kind of place where just about every seat is a good seat.
As soon as we were seated, my attention snapped to the stage where Lisa Hannigan, the opening act, was singing. We were familiar with the vocalist due to her prior working relationship with singer Damien Rice (whose “Delicate” was our instrumental processional song). I felt fairly ambivalent upon learning that she’d be opening for David Gray, but my sentiment quickly turned to sheer captivation as we listened.
That lady can sing. Not only does she have a powerful, soaring, goose bump-producing voice, but she’s lovely and vaguely awkward and charming and funny. I can’t wait to get a hold of her CD, learn the lyrics and pretend I’m her while singing my lungs out in my living room (when Jesse’s at work or otherwise indisposed).
Early on in the show, Jesse commented on how excited he felt at that very moment, and I couldn’t agree more. He said he’s normally excited in anticipation of catching a concert, but this exhilaration was bleeding into the performance itself. I was so pleased that I made the impulsive, fun decision to get those tickets!
After intermission, David Gray took the stage with his band. All of them were dressed in nearly identical light brown suits, looking like dapper musicians from the 50’s. They looked to be having a good time, goofing around and taking in the enormous crowd. Gray began to sing and from then on I couldn’t really stop smiling. His voice too was notably marvelous – meeting all of the expectations we had after listening to the melodically luxurious album “Life in Slow Motion.” That title track was played, along with just one more from that disc. We heard his popular older songs “Babylon” and “Sail Away With Me” and many from the most recent CD.
The Schnitzer venue allows for impressive light displays on stage, which I managed to get a couple fuzzy pictures of. All in all, it was such a fabulous concert. The venue was very well-suited for these two artists and both of them exceeded what we’d hoped for in terms of their performances. I’m considering making David Gray a generous monetary offer to come sing us lullabies about 3 nights a week.
10.31.2009
books books books
It's Halloween! I'm decked out in my Builders & the Butchers crow shirt and Audubon crow earrings, feeling good. I'm musing over my conversation this morning with my stepdaughter who turned 8 today. She told me an elaborate story about the time her dad accidentally decapitated her at the beach. She was really mad at him. As my dad (an extremely proud new grandpa) says, she is a delight.
So... I've been entering a lot of contests lately. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I won an essay contest through work a few months back and it got my sweepstakes competitiveness raging. On one hand, I sort of feel like spending hours entering contests is a waste. On the other hand, you WIN STUFF!
Last week Jesse called me at work to let me know that a big package had arrived from Simon & Schuster publishing company. I was too curious to wait, so I had him open it. Inside was a letter saying that I had won their summer reading contest! I won 7 books worth almost $150 including:
- Best Friends Forever by Jennifer Weiner
- Chasing Harry Winston by Lauren Weisenberger
- Full of Life by Nancy O'Dell
- Mommywood by Tori Spelling
- My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
- The Love of Her Life by Harriet Evans
- The Lovers by John Connolly
Okay, not exactly the kind of books I normally like to read, but free books is better than no books!
In other book news, I've started work on my "Pay It Forward" books. It has been too long since I built a book, but I've found that the skills are relearned quickly. It helps that all my supplies were recently categorized and stored in an easily accessible fashion. Here's a sneak peek at the first of the 6 books I'll be constructing.
10.23.2009
color theory
I'm beginning to conceptualize the re-design of my blog. I'm really wishing now that I had gone to school for graphic design. I'm starting by determining a new color palette - with the help of the Adobe website Kuler, which I read about on a design blog.
Here's a rough first draft of a color scheme. What are your thoughts? What sort of vibe do these colors evoke? Yay or nay? Suggested changes?
10.20.2009
September 28/29 – Liberia to Portland
Oh, what a breakfast. The standard gallo pinto and fresh fruit, along with pastries, bacon, cereal and amazing do-it-yourself Belgian waffles. In retrospect, I should have taken that delightful start to my day as a sign of good things to come. Instead, I had a lot of anxiety about whether or not we’d get out of the country and get our mangled travel plans back in order.
Before we even reached the American Airlines desk, some of American counterparts confirmed that the flight to Miami was going to depart as planned. This time we made our way into the open air “gate” area and watched our plane touchdown like a big white mirage. We made it to Miami and I immediately jumped on the phone to Westin to see if they’d forgive our missed reservation the previous night and move it to the current night. I reached someone at Westin reservations who told me that I’d have to call Priceline because I had bid on the room and won it there. I called Priceline and was told that they could do nothing to help me, and that I needed to call the hotel if there was any chance of getting the reservation changed. My hope was dwindling to depressing levels when I called the front desk of the Dallas Westin directly. I spoke to a wonderful girl name Emily who, when she heard our predicament, changed the reservation.
We didn’t have long to get lunch before our flight was scheduled to depart for Dallas, so we sat down at a sports bar in the terminal and ordered our food. I got a beer and quickly swallowed the $3 shot of tequila that came with it. I needed courage and assertiveness.
I called Southwest Airlines, remembering that you “attract bees with honey,” but knowing full well that I might have to get forceful, dramatic, pushy and/or desperate in order to get our already missed flight (from Phoenix to Portland) switched to the following day. A man who sounded competent and fairly kindhearted got on the phone and I jumped into my frantic, jumbled speech: “I’m in a bind and I’m on my honeymoon and I hope you can help me…”
Moments later the man said, “It looks like you’re already booked on tomorrow’s flight.”
WHAT? I started to cry a little in relief, sniffling and babbling thanks to this poor guy sitting in a call center in who-knows-where. Once we would arrive home the next day I would find an email from Southwest in my inbox. They had received the message I sent from the Liberia hotel and, taking great pity on me, changed the reservation – though that is something they hardly ever do because they have “rules” to abide by.
I returned to our table in the restaurant and told Jesse the news. We were jubilantly thankful. Our waitress poured our remaining beer into a “to-go cup” for the plane (who knew that was an option?!) and we made it to our gate just in time to board the flight to Dallas.
Upon our arrival, we took the Westin shuttle to our hotel. The room was beautiful, but we had little time to enjoy it. We got dinner at the Denny’s across the street and then headed straight for bed. We rose very early the next day and hopped on our plane to Phoenix, where we met Johnny. In a wonderful display of kindness, he brought all the rest of our luggage to the airport for us. We checked as many bags as we could (we were now traveling with 6 of them) and started the 4 hour wait for our flight to Portland.
In my carry on book bag was the Dia de los Muertos style skull sculpture (skullpture) that our dear friend Stephanie had given us as a wedding gift. The massive clay skull is painted and bedecked with beads, jewels and knickknacks. I was fairly apprehensive to send the gorgeous beast through the x-ray machine at the security checkpoint. I carefully set my bag on the conveyer belt and walked through the metal detector, keeping my eye on the machine screener. I watched as the skull slowly rolled onto the screen, a tangled unidentifiable mess to my untrained eye.
“WHAT is THAT?!” yelled the lady.
“A skull,” I replied.
“Alla the sudden I’ve got somebody LOOKING at me,” said the lady.
“It was a wedding gift,” I said. Like I really needed to say that.
“Then you’ve got some PRETTY WEIRD friends,” said the lady.
I wasn’t about to dispute that.
They didn’t even want to unwrap my skull and look at it; I was shocked. Their loss. We had made it through our last significant challenge. We boarded the plane to Portland, then took the MAX from there. We got home by about 6:30pm after more than 2 weeks away. Jesse forgot to carry me over the threshold. We were home and we were married!
THE END.
Before we even reached the American Airlines desk, some of American counterparts confirmed that the flight to Miami was going to depart as planned. This time we made our way into the open air “gate” area and watched our plane touchdown like a big white mirage. We made it to Miami and I immediately jumped on the phone to Westin to see if they’d forgive our missed reservation the previous night and move it to the current night. I reached someone at Westin reservations who told me that I’d have to call Priceline because I had bid on the room and won it there. I called Priceline and was told that they could do nothing to help me, and that I needed to call the hotel if there was any chance of getting the reservation changed. My hope was dwindling to depressing levels when I called the front desk of the Dallas Westin directly. I spoke to a wonderful girl name Emily who, when she heard our predicament, changed the reservation.
We didn’t have long to get lunch before our flight was scheduled to depart for Dallas, so we sat down at a sports bar in the terminal and ordered our food. I got a beer and quickly swallowed the $3 shot of tequila that came with it. I needed courage and assertiveness.
I called Southwest Airlines, remembering that you “attract bees with honey,” but knowing full well that I might have to get forceful, dramatic, pushy and/or desperate in order to get our already missed flight (from Phoenix to Portland) switched to the following day. A man who sounded competent and fairly kindhearted got on the phone and I jumped into my frantic, jumbled speech: “I’m in a bind and I’m on my honeymoon and I hope you can help me…”
Moments later the man said, “It looks like you’re already booked on tomorrow’s flight.”
WHAT? I started to cry a little in relief, sniffling and babbling thanks to this poor guy sitting in a call center in who-knows-where. Once we would arrive home the next day I would find an email from Southwest in my inbox. They had received the message I sent from the Liberia hotel and, taking great pity on me, changed the reservation – though that is something they hardly ever do because they have “rules” to abide by.
I returned to our table in the restaurant and told Jesse the news. We were jubilantly thankful. Our waitress poured our remaining beer into a “to-go cup” for the plane (who knew that was an option?!) and we made it to our gate just in time to board the flight to Dallas.
Upon our arrival, we took the Westin shuttle to our hotel. The room was beautiful, but we had little time to enjoy it. We got dinner at the Denny’s across the street and then headed straight for bed. We rose very early the next day and hopped on our plane to Phoenix, where we met Johnny. In a wonderful display of kindness, he brought all the rest of our luggage to the airport for us. We checked as many bags as we could (we were now traveling with 6 of them) and started the 4 hour wait for our flight to Portland.
In my carry on book bag was the Dia de los Muertos style skull sculpture (skullpture) that our dear friend Stephanie had given us as a wedding gift. The massive clay skull is painted and bedecked with beads, jewels and knickknacks. I was fairly apprehensive to send the gorgeous beast through the x-ray machine at the security checkpoint. I carefully set my bag on the conveyer belt and walked through the metal detector, keeping my eye on the machine screener. I watched as the skull slowly rolled onto the screen, a tangled unidentifiable mess to my untrained eye.
“WHAT is THAT?!” yelled the lady.
“A skull,” I replied.
“Alla the sudden I’ve got somebody LOOKING at me,” said the lady.
“It was a wedding gift,” I said. Like I really needed to say that.
“Then you’ve got some PRETTY WEIRD friends,” said the lady.
I wasn’t about to dispute that.
They didn’t even want to unwrap my skull and look at it; I was shocked. Their loss. We had made it through our last significant challenge. We boarded the plane to Portland, then took the MAX from there. We got home by about 6:30pm after more than 2 weeks away. Jesse forgot to carry me over the threshold. We were home and we were married!
THE END.
10.19.2009
September 27 - Papagayo to Liberia
I woke up at 1:45am, thinking I had overslept. A little over 4 hours later, the alarm sounded and we got breakfast before lugging our heavy bags up the hill to reception. Reliable Armando picked us up and we left lovely Papagayo for Liberia, where our departure airport was located.
We paid the requisite departure tax (so cruel, making you pay to leave the country you don’t entirely want to leave in the first place) and walked over to the American Airlines desk. The attendant looked up our names in his computer and looked up at us slowly, saying “I have some bad news for you.” The bad news was that our flight was delayed and unconfirmed, so we went upstairs to have coffee and to play Farkle. Before long, we, along with a big group of other Americans, learned that our flight had been outright cancelled and we’d have to leave the next day at the earliest. Now, when I have made a plan, I think things to go according to that plan. I felt a bit of panic.
My unhappiness was tempered by the free hotel, lunch, dinner and breakfast vouchers the airline provided for the nearby Hilton Garden Inn. A group of us packed into the hotel shuttle, driven by a mad kamikaze man who seemingly almost flipped the van over on the way into the parking lot. We checked into our room, which was very, very clean and comfortable, and walked down to the internet room to get in touch with the U.S. for the first time in a week. I emailed my mother, the Westin hotel (in Dallas) that we were supposed to be staying at that night, Southwest Airlines (whose flight we were supposed to be catching to Portland the next day), and Annie and Johnny (who we were supposed to be meeting up with the next day to retrieve the rest of our luggage).
We spent the rest of the day eating delicious food, swimming and sunbathing at the beautiful tiled pool, drinking cocktails, and watching television. We also got some laundry done in an honest-to-goodness washer (read: not a sink) and were told by our new friend Lou that we are a “very international looking couple.” I sure liked the sound of that.
We paid the requisite departure tax (so cruel, making you pay to leave the country you don’t entirely want to leave in the first place) and walked over to the American Airlines desk. The attendant looked up our names in his computer and looked up at us slowly, saying “I have some bad news for you.” The bad news was that our flight was delayed and unconfirmed, so we went upstairs to have coffee and to play Farkle. Before long, we, along with a big group of other Americans, learned that our flight had been outright cancelled and we’d have to leave the next day at the earliest. Now, when I have made a plan, I think things to go according to that plan. I felt a bit of panic.
My unhappiness was tempered by the free hotel, lunch, dinner and breakfast vouchers the airline provided for the nearby Hilton Garden Inn. A group of us packed into the hotel shuttle, driven by a mad kamikaze man who seemingly almost flipped the van over on the way into the parking lot. We checked into our room, which was very, very clean and comfortable, and walked down to the internet room to get in touch with the U.S. for the first time in a week. I emailed my mother, the Westin hotel (in Dallas) that we were supposed to be staying at that night, Southwest Airlines (whose flight we were supposed to be catching to Portland the next day), and Annie and Johnny (who we were supposed to be meeting up with the next day to retrieve the rest of our luggage).
We spent the rest of the day eating delicious food, swimming and sunbathing at the beautiful tiled pool, drinking cocktails, and watching television. We also got some laundry done in an honest-to-goodness washer (read: not a sink) and were told by our new friend Lou that we are a “very international looking couple.” I sure liked the sound of that.
10.16.2009
September 26 - Papagayo
We slathered on gobs of sunscreen and got a bit to eat before walking down to the black sand beach to catch our ferry over to the hotel’s illustrious white sand beach. As we waited we watched big pelicans flying directly over head and bobbing in the ocean. It was a very sunny 15 minute ride across the gulf to the beach, a stretch of hot white sand broken into two segments by the high tide.
The scenery was just breathtaking – a long cove with a large area shaded by trees and rows of blue chaise lounges set out. We spent a lot of time floating in the sea in order to keep cool and we eventually made our way toward one edge of the beach. We stood among small schools of fish, one variety of which had bright yellow striped with black like a bumblebee. Jesse explored into a group of rocks jutting from the water, but I kept a safe distance. At one point I heard a big splash behind me, then another. I turned to see that two big crabs had leapt out of the water and onto some rocks. I climbed back onto land and sat for a while on a water-weathered log in a quiet spot under spotty shade. I watched several kinds of birds hop around on the branches surrounding me and I saw at least 5 or 6 types of butterflies – including one that had a glimmering panel of aquamarine in each wing, just like a stained glass window!
When we returned to the main beach and Jesse was immediately recruited for a soccer game. I sat in the ocean and watched him score his team’s very first goal. I had noticed a cute little girl and boy in the ocean near me. When the girl got close enough to me, I asked her in Spanish how she was doing. She was shy at first, but in no time she was sitting on my lap in the water, excitedly talking to me and asking me questions. Turns out she was 3 years old, from Costa Rica and her name was Fili (my guess at spelling a name pronounced like “fee-lee”). I understood about 60-65% of her Spanish and it was great practice trying to communicate with her! She asked a lot about my “hija” (daughter) and my father. I used our underwater camera to get a great photo of the two of us.
As difficult as it was to leave the cool refreshment of the water, I needed a beverage. I walked up to the open air eating area, where only two other people were standing around. Right as I arrived, a coati walked out of the forest and started nosing around, looking for something to eat! I didn’t have a camera with me, so I went back town and urged Jesse to check it out and grab a photo. We then had a quick carb-filled lunch and headed back to the water. Jesse decided he wanted to try out snorkeling, so he paddled off while I relaxed. I ended taking an awesome nap on my chair under the trees and woke up close to the time the ferry was supposed to be returning to get us. I realized that Jesse was nowhere to be found.
The last I knew, he had been heading toward the opposite end of the beach where a bigger rocky area sat. I set out down the scalding, endless beach, the 10,000 degree sun beating into my shoulders. I reached the very end and saw a figure floating facedown in the sea, many yards out from shore. “Jesse!” I yelled. “JEEEEEESSSSSSEEEEEE!” The figure ignored me. Jesse was having the time of his life. I didn’t exist to him anymore. There were only sea urchins and puffer fish. I threw down my flip flops and marched into the sea, yelling his name the whole time. After a while, he suddenly popped his head out of the water and stared at me with a confused look on his face. I indicated (in the nicest way, I’m sure) that it was time to return to camp. I turned and marched back out of the water and up the beach. Jesse followed, struggling to pull off his giant flippers and run after me.
Back on the boat, Jesse and 5 or 6 other guys decided to climb over the top railing and jump into the ocean. Twice. Unfortunately, I had used up the last of our disposable camera photos on land and couldn’t document this act of sheer bravery and fun. Someone, somewhere, has a picture of Jesse’s manly moment of glory.
When we made it back to shore, I had to stand on the beach with a man whose pottery we had purchased while Jesse went back to the room to get some cash. The man’s name was Salman and he was from Nicaragua. He ended up telling me his very interesting life story, including the part about how his old girlfriend went to Alaska and disappeared. He is now married to a woman from his church and he wants to come to New York to be a missionary with two of his siblings. He was a very sympathetic, good soul that made a big impression on me.
We finally made it down to the pool to sit on underwater bar stools and order draft Imperials. We did some last minute shopping, grabbed dinner and returned to our room to pack. Booo. Back to the U.S. the next day.
The scenery was just breathtaking – a long cove with a large area shaded by trees and rows of blue chaise lounges set out. We spent a lot of time floating in the sea in order to keep cool and we eventually made our way toward one edge of the beach. We stood among small schools of fish, one variety of which had bright yellow striped with black like a bumblebee. Jesse explored into a group of rocks jutting from the water, but I kept a safe distance. At one point I heard a big splash behind me, then another. I turned to see that two big crabs had leapt out of the water and onto some rocks. I climbed back onto land and sat for a while on a water-weathered log in a quiet spot under spotty shade. I watched several kinds of birds hop around on the branches surrounding me and I saw at least 5 or 6 types of butterflies – including one that had a glimmering panel of aquamarine in each wing, just like a stained glass window!
When we returned to the main beach and Jesse was immediately recruited for a soccer game. I sat in the ocean and watched him score his team’s very first goal. I had noticed a cute little girl and boy in the ocean near me. When the girl got close enough to me, I asked her in Spanish how she was doing. She was shy at first, but in no time she was sitting on my lap in the water, excitedly talking to me and asking me questions. Turns out she was 3 years old, from Costa Rica and her name was Fili (my guess at spelling a name pronounced like “fee-lee”). I understood about 60-65% of her Spanish and it was great practice trying to communicate with her! She asked a lot about my “hija” (daughter) and my father. I used our underwater camera to get a great photo of the two of us.
As difficult as it was to leave the cool refreshment of the water, I needed a beverage. I walked up to the open air eating area, where only two other people were standing around. Right as I arrived, a coati walked out of the forest and started nosing around, looking for something to eat! I didn’t have a camera with me, so I went back town and urged Jesse to check it out and grab a photo. We then had a quick carb-filled lunch and headed back to the water. Jesse decided he wanted to try out snorkeling, so he paddled off while I relaxed. I ended taking an awesome nap on my chair under the trees and woke up close to the time the ferry was supposed to be returning to get us. I realized that Jesse was nowhere to be found.
The last I knew, he had been heading toward the opposite end of the beach where a bigger rocky area sat. I set out down the scalding, endless beach, the 10,000 degree sun beating into my shoulders. I reached the very end and saw a figure floating facedown in the sea, many yards out from shore. “Jesse!” I yelled. “JEEEEEESSSSSSEEEEEE!” The figure ignored me. Jesse was having the time of his life. I didn’t exist to him anymore. There were only sea urchins and puffer fish. I threw down my flip flops and marched into the sea, yelling his name the whole time. After a while, he suddenly popped his head out of the water and stared at me with a confused look on his face. I indicated (in the nicest way, I’m sure) that it was time to return to camp. I turned and marched back out of the water and up the beach. Jesse followed, struggling to pull off his giant flippers and run after me.
Back on the boat, Jesse and 5 or 6 other guys decided to climb over the top railing and jump into the ocean. Twice. Unfortunately, I had used up the last of our disposable camera photos on land and couldn’t document this act of sheer bravery and fun. Someone, somewhere, has a picture of Jesse’s manly moment of glory.
When we made it back to shore, I had to stand on the beach with a man whose pottery we had purchased while Jesse went back to the room to get some cash. The man’s name was Salman and he was from Nicaragua. He ended up telling me his very interesting life story, including the part about how his old girlfriend went to Alaska and disappeared. He is now married to a woman from his church and he wants to come to New York to be a missionary with two of his siblings. He was a very sympathetic, good soul that made a big impression on me.
We finally made it down to the pool to sit on underwater bar stools and order draft Imperials. We did some last minute shopping, grabbed dinner and returned to our room to pack. Booo. Back to the U.S. the next day.
September 25 - Papagayo and Artola
We just had time to grab breakfast from the buffet before our familiar driver Armando picked us up with new tour guide Eric in tow. We started the hour long drive to Artola where we’d be partaking in some wild zipline action. We opted for a photo CD of the day, which meant a guy would be following us with a camera and instructing us on how to pose. I’m thankful for that because it would have been way too difficult to manage the logistics of ziplining and photographing! The guides strapped and snapped a harness onto my hips without speaking and plopped a helmet on my head. We were joined by a couple, Chad and Katie, from Pittsburgh who had also gotten married on September 19th and were on their honeymoon.
Ziplining was absolutely amazing. We had several guides who showed us how to operate the necessary machinery and how to brake as we approached platforms. They made the whole experience a lot of fun by goofing around like crazy – shaking suspension bridges and pretending to let us walk off the raised platforms without being properly attached to the line! Katie was afraid of heights and was constantly shrieking in fear and calling for her husband. I, strangely, didn’t feel an ounce of fear despite being so high up. I was fully confident in the company’s safety measures and the knowledge of our guides.
We had the opportunity to try out a few different poses on the different lines, including the “Superman” and hanging completely upside down. On the longest line, which stretched far over the top of the canopy, a stunning butterfly followed right next to me as I sped from the platform into mid-air. I kept thinking that he would fly off, but he continued on parallel to my flight, right by my face.
It was amazingly hot and sweaty underneath the helmet which was squeezing my brains out. (At one point I removed the helmet to get some relief and then put it back on – backwards. A guide fixed the problem with a half-grin on his face. He was making fun of me in Spanish in his mind, I just know it.) We flew down to the ground from the last platform and I happily washed my hands and combed my hair with my fingers.
We were given the option to explore a small “zoo” for an entrance fee of $5 each. When I was told we could hold monkeys, I made my mind up fast. We entered an enclosure filled with white-faced (or capuchin) monkeys and a couple spider monkeys after removing all items from our pockets and jewelry from our bodies. We were given handfuls of sunflower seeds to offer to the monkeys and as soon as I stuck my hand out, a little capuchin monkey hopped onto my arm. I just about died of happiness.
Oh my goodness, to see this little guy peering into my eyes, his tiny fingers grasping my hand. He was very selective about the sunflower seeds he was eating, pushing many off my palm in broad sweeps of his monkey hand. He would pause midway through his munching and nestle his head into my chest. I soon realized he was licking my skin! The handler explained that he was looking for sweat. I eventually stood and my little friend climbed atop my head and began to suck the sweat from my hair! Yayyyyy.
Next we visited the Serpent Garden. Glass tanks of various sizes housed snakes of every variety. We were asked if we wanted to hold one. Oh sure! We are thinking about getting a snake anyway, so that’s perfect! Our zoo guide proceeded to pull a python out of its enclosure. The snake was at least 10 feet long and 2 feet in circumference. The man hoisted the massive beast up and over Jesse’s shoulders. Then it was my turn. After declining the pleasure several times, they convinced me to give it a shot. The center of the snake’s body was behind my head and I was shown how to hold him on his…..neck. His head wavered dangerously close to mine. He was looking at me. I was trying to breathe slowly and keep very calm because I figured he could sense my fear. He didn’t even try to squeeze me to death once!
Our last stop was the Butterfly Garden where we saw hundreds of Owl Butterflies with their amazing, creepy markings. We were shown a sort of “butterfly growing room” where there were caterpillars and butterflies in all stages of development. We spent a while in the gift shop before getting back in our van to return to the resort. As we drove back, we chatted a lot with Eric. He had a great desire to see the United States (and many other countries), so we exchanged information and told him he was more than welcome to stay with us if he ever made it up to Portland. We wanted to show him the same kind of hospitality that is so prevalent and highly valued across Costa Rica.
The rest of the day was very relaxed. I napped, we ate lunch and took a walk along the beach – spotting a big group of vultures dining on a dead manta ray! Inspired, I later watched Fear Factor while Jesse went for a swim. We had dinner at the Mexican a la carte restaurant and then did some souvenir shopping. Our last adventure was hiking up the hill to the lobby – a trip that turned into a bug hunt. We saw a beetle as big as my hand, a tiny gold Scarab beetle, geckos and even a scorpion – which I consider to be the most terrifying of all!
Ziplining was absolutely amazing. We had several guides who showed us how to operate the necessary machinery and how to brake as we approached platforms. They made the whole experience a lot of fun by goofing around like crazy – shaking suspension bridges and pretending to let us walk off the raised platforms without being properly attached to the line! Katie was afraid of heights and was constantly shrieking in fear and calling for her husband. I, strangely, didn’t feel an ounce of fear despite being so high up. I was fully confident in the company’s safety measures and the knowledge of our guides.
We had the opportunity to try out a few different poses on the different lines, including the “Superman” and hanging completely upside down. On the longest line, which stretched far over the top of the canopy, a stunning butterfly followed right next to me as I sped from the platform into mid-air. I kept thinking that he would fly off, but he continued on parallel to my flight, right by my face.
It was amazingly hot and sweaty underneath the helmet which was squeezing my brains out. (At one point I removed the helmet to get some relief and then put it back on – backwards. A guide fixed the problem with a half-grin on his face. He was making fun of me in Spanish in his mind, I just know it.) We flew down to the ground from the last platform and I happily washed my hands and combed my hair with my fingers.
We were given the option to explore a small “zoo” for an entrance fee of $5 each. When I was told we could hold monkeys, I made my mind up fast. We entered an enclosure filled with white-faced (or capuchin) monkeys and a couple spider monkeys after removing all items from our pockets and jewelry from our bodies. We were given handfuls of sunflower seeds to offer to the monkeys and as soon as I stuck my hand out, a little capuchin monkey hopped onto my arm. I just about died of happiness.
Oh my goodness, to see this little guy peering into my eyes, his tiny fingers grasping my hand. He was very selective about the sunflower seeds he was eating, pushing many off my palm in broad sweeps of his monkey hand. He would pause midway through his munching and nestle his head into my chest. I soon realized he was licking my skin! The handler explained that he was looking for sweat. I eventually stood and my little friend climbed atop my head and began to suck the sweat from my hair! Yayyyyy.
Next we visited the Serpent Garden. Glass tanks of various sizes housed snakes of every variety. We were asked if we wanted to hold one. Oh sure! We are thinking about getting a snake anyway, so that’s perfect! Our zoo guide proceeded to pull a python out of its enclosure. The snake was at least 10 feet long and 2 feet in circumference. The man hoisted the massive beast up and over Jesse’s shoulders. Then it was my turn. After declining the pleasure several times, they convinced me to give it a shot. The center of the snake’s body was behind my head and I was shown how to hold him on his…..neck. His head wavered dangerously close to mine. He was looking at me. I was trying to breathe slowly and keep very calm because I figured he could sense my fear. He didn’t even try to squeeze me to death once!
Our last stop was the Butterfly Garden where we saw hundreds of Owl Butterflies with their amazing, creepy markings. We were shown a sort of “butterfly growing room” where there were caterpillars and butterflies in all stages of development. We spent a while in the gift shop before getting back in our van to return to the resort. As we drove back, we chatted a lot with Eric. He had a great desire to see the United States (and many other countries), so we exchanged information and told him he was more than welcome to stay with us if he ever made it up to Portland. We wanted to show him the same kind of hospitality that is so prevalent and highly valued across Costa Rica.
The rest of the day was very relaxed. I napped, we ate lunch and took a walk along the beach – spotting a big group of vultures dining on a dead manta ray! Inspired, I later watched Fear Factor while Jesse went for a swim. We had dinner at the Mexican a la carte restaurant and then did some souvenir shopping. Our last adventure was hiking up the hill to the lobby – a trip that turned into a bug hunt. We saw a beetle as big as my hand, a tiny gold Scarab beetle, geckos and even a scorpion – which I consider to be the most terrifying of all!
10.07.2009
September 24 - Tortuguero to Papagayo
Another 5:00am morning for us, packing up our gear and scooting over to the dining hall for a breakfast promised to be merely “continental.” Continental, in Costa Rica anyway, apparently means coffee, orange juice, fresh pineapple, banana and papaya, breakfast ham, perfectly cooked fried eggs and tasty wheat bread, still hot from the oven. I told Gerardo that in the U.S., you could expect a small muffin in a plastic bag as your continental breakfast.
As we stood waiting for our shuttle boat to arrive, a toucan flew overhead! We boarded the boat and made the short ride over to the Tortuguero airstrip. I felt like royalty riding swiftly over the river, with just a driver, Gerardo and Jesse. Little did we know that our small 12 or 15-seater airplane would arrive – and Jesse and I would be the only passengers! The copilot gave a “ladies and gentleman” speech much more relaxed than the standard TSA lecture delivered back at home. We took off from the small strip of concrete boarded by rainforest on one side and the beach just through a line of trees on the other. It was a short ride to San Jose, where we walked off the plane and across the tarmac to a very, very small gate area to wait for our next flight. We had a strange array of snacks while we waited, including a blueberry muffin and a pear yogurt beverage named “Likigurt.”
Our next plane, which was the same size as the first, was full. We flew to the tiny Tamarindo airport to drop off some of the passengers, and then continued on to Liberia. I spotted a really weird bug that looked like it had been covered in white spray paint, but I was feeling a little too rushed to get a picture. We were greeted by a new driver, Armando, with whom we spoke Spanish the entire ride to the resort. Well, Jesse spoke and I generally just listened. Jesse accidentally told Armando that he’d been to all 50 states, which Armando find very impressive.
We arrived at the Allegro Papagayo Hotel and checked in, receiving our prized golden bracelets that let everyone know we were on our honeymoon. The resort was all-inclusive in terms of food and alcohol, but we were promised some extra perks for the occasion. We tossed our bags in our room and set out to explore. We got excited to see a big iguana sunning itself on a bush, and then realized that the creatures dotted the whole place! We got a bite to eat at the snack bar and walked down to the black sand beach. We walked along the shore for a while, examining the thousands of pretty seashells and the occasional fish body.
Returning to our room, we decided to take a nap in air-conditioned comfort. We woke to realize that we’d completely missed lunch, so we went back to sleep. Those early mornings had caught up to us. We woke again in time for dinner and set out for “La Trattoria” – the hotel’s a la carte Italian restaurant. Reservations were required and a dress code was loudly announced – a dress code which we couldn’t abide by due to our limited clothing and shoe selection. Fortunately, another diner had his shirt unbuttoned practically down to his navel.
Thinking our day was nearing its close, we walked back up to our room, spotting a mama raccoon and several babies along the way. We washed some clothes with bar soap in the sink (a necessity with a 25 pound limit on luggage) and decided to take a quick trip to the hot tub and maybe play a short game of darts at the bar before retiring. Unfortunately, we found the hot tub closed by the time we got down to the pool area. And then there was only one dart in the dart board. The foosball table opened up, so we positioned ourselves there.
Less than three minutes later, I was approached by a member of the “Occidental Fun Club.” The young man directed me to repeat his words to Jesse.
Jesse. If you do not participate in tonight’s production. I will not sleep with you.
And so Jesse decided to participate in the night’s production. Then I got roped into participating as well – bikini top and all. What was the production? GREASE. We were directed to a dressing room along with three men, and told to choose button-up suit jackets. We were then herded backstage and told to choose instruments – Jesse got the bongo drums and I opted for a big cymbal. Our “director” told us to watch the stage for the big red car and once the song “Greased Lightning” began, we were to put on our jackets, grab our instruments and position ourselves just behind the curtain.
I wanted to quit. I wanted to go hide in our room till the next day, bailing out on the rest of the cast. Jesse didn’t act like that was an option so I stuck around. In the meantime, we met Will, a Costa Rican native who had spent many years in the U.S. and who had just returned to Costa Rica 11 months prior (read: preemptively running from the law). He convinced us to do shots of tequila to steel our nerves before our Costa Rican stage debuts. A Spanish-speaking man, Patricio, who looked like he was from Michigan, joined us. Then it was time; the car appeared and the familiar notes of “Greased Lightning” rang out. We grabbed our jackets (I was happy to cover my skin), our instruments, and the curtains opened and music began!
We were only to pretend we were playing our instruments. I nervously tapped my cymbal while Jesse bongoed away next to me. Patricio – previously quiet and shy – ran twirling across the stage, sticking his microphone in each of our faces to do singing “solos.” It was madness. The song flowed into another…this was taking fooooreeeever.
Once our part finally ended, we headed back over the bar with Will. Turns out he had worked at the same software sales company as Jesse had – only at a Costa Rica branch rather than in Beaverton, Oregon. The raccoon family came down and raided garbage cans in the bar area. I got close to a little baby who was too immersed in what he was doing to notice me.
The bar closed and we moved to the empty discothèque…which it seems they opened up just for us. The night ended significantly later than I had anticipated.
As we stood waiting for our shuttle boat to arrive, a toucan flew overhead! We boarded the boat and made the short ride over to the Tortuguero airstrip. I felt like royalty riding swiftly over the river, with just a driver, Gerardo and Jesse. Little did we know that our small 12 or 15-seater airplane would arrive – and Jesse and I would be the only passengers! The copilot gave a “ladies and gentleman” speech much more relaxed than the standard TSA lecture delivered back at home. We took off from the small strip of concrete boarded by rainforest on one side and the beach just through a line of trees on the other. It was a short ride to San Jose, where we walked off the plane and across the tarmac to a very, very small gate area to wait for our next flight. We had a strange array of snacks while we waited, including a blueberry muffin and a pear yogurt beverage named “Likigurt.”
Our next plane, which was the same size as the first, was full. We flew to the tiny Tamarindo airport to drop off some of the passengers, and then continued on to Liberia. I spotted a really weird bug that looked like it had been covered in white spray paint, but I was feeling a little too rushed to get a picture. We were greeted by a new driver, Armando, with whom we spoke Spanish the entire ride to the resort. Well, Jesse spoke and I generally just listened. Jesse accidentally told Armando that he’d been to all 50 states, which Armando find very impressive.
We arrived at the Allegro Papagayo Hotel and checked in, receiving our prized golden bracelets that let everyone know we were on our honeymoon. The resort was all-inclusive in terms of food and alcohol, but we were promised some extra perks for the occasion. We tossed our bags in our room and set out to explore. We got excited to see a big iguana sunning itself on a bush, and then realized that the creatures dotted the whole place! We got a bite to eat at the snack bar and walked down to the black sand beach. We walked along the shore for a while, examining the thousands of pretty seashells and the occasional fish body.
Returning to our room, we decided to take a nap in air-conditioned comfort. We woke to realize that we’d completely missed lunch, so we went back to sleep. Those early mornings had caught up to us. We woke again in time for dinner and set out for “La Trattoria” – the hotel’s a la carte Italian restaurant. Reservations were required and a dress code was loudly announced – a dress code which we couldn’t abide by due to our limited clothing and shoe selection. Fortunately, another diner had his shirt unbuttoned practically down to his navel.
Thinking our day was nearing its close, we walked back up to our room, spotting a mama raccoon and several babies along the way. We washed some clothes with bar soap in the sink (a necessity with a 25 pound limit on luggage) and decided to take a quick trip to the hot tub and maybe play a short game of darts at the bar before retiring. Unfortunately, we found the hot tub closed by the time we got down to the pool area. And then there was only one dart in the dart board. The foosball table opened up, so we positioned ourselves there.
Less than three minutes later, I was approached by a member of the “Occidental Fun Club.” The young man directed me to repeat his words to Jesse.
Jesse. If you do not participate in tonight’s production. I will not sleep with you.
And so Jesse decided to participate in the night’s production. Then I got roped into participating as well – bikini top and all. What was the production? GREASE. We were directed to a dressing room along with three men, and told to choose button-up suit jackets. We were then herded backstage and told to choose instruments – Jesse got the bongo drums and I opted for a big cymbal. Our “director” told us to watch the stage for the big red car and once the song “Greased Lightning” began, we were to put on our jackets, grab our instruments and position ourselves just behind the curtain.
I wanted to quit. I wanted to go hide in our room till the next day, bailing out on the rest of the cast. Jesse didn’t act like that was an option so I stuck around. In the meantime, we met Will, a Costa Rican native who had spent many years in the U.S. and who had just returned to Costa Rica 11 months prior (read: preemptively running from the law). He convinced us to do shots of tequila to steel our nerves before our Costa Rican stage debuts. A Spanish-speaking man, Patricio, who looked like he was from Michigan, joined us. Then it was time; the car appeared and the familiar notes of “Greased Lightning” rang out. We grabbed our jackets (I was happy to cover my skin), our instruments, and the curtains opened and music began!
We were only to pretend we were playing our instruments. I nervously tapped my cymbal while Jesse bongoed away next to me. Patricio – previously quiet and shy – ran twirling across the stage, sticking his microphone in each of our faces to do singing “solos.” It was madness. The song flowed into another…this was taking fooooreeeever.
Once our part finally ended, we headed back over the bar with Will. Turns out he had worked at the same software sales company as Jesse had – only at a Costa Rica branch rather than in Beaverton, Oregon. The raccoon family came down and raided garbage cans in the bar area. I got close to a little baby who was too immersed in what he was doing to notice me.
The bar closed and we moved to the empty discothèque…which it seems they opened up just for us. The night ended significantly later than I had anticipated.
10.06.2009
September 23 - Tortuguero
I mis-set the alarm, but the sound of howler monkeys screaming nearby had woken us early anyway. We had breakfast and the group set out for a nature walk through the forest. We were provided rubber boots to wear, but neither Jesse nor I had packed any socks. (Instead, we each brought a pair of flip flops and a heavier duty pair of Teva-type hiking sandals.) I wrapped a dirty tank top around each foot before donning the boots, and Jesse went skin to rubber. He did wrap a bandana around each of his calves to prevent them from being rubbed raw.
We explored an area a short boat ride away, walking across balance beam logs and trekking through shallow muddy pits. We saw several poison dart frogs (the pretty red “blue jeans” variety), giant grasshoppers and spiders, a cousin of the Resplendent Quetzal (the mystical bird I most wanted to see – this was the closest I’d come – besides my quetzal magnet and keychain) called a trogan, and huge bullet ants. We learned how to survive in the rainforest by making palm roofs and eating hearts of palm.
Hot and sweaty as usual, we returned to the lodge for another swim in the tortuga pool before lunch. Ever on the go, we then got back on a boat to visit the small village of Tortuguero. This felt like the first time we were really being exposed to local culture, which we appreciated. The back side of the village bordered the Caribbean beach, where Gerardo gave a long explanation of how turtles come to shore to lay their eggs. When he had finally finished and we were turned loose for an hour, Jesse immediately stripped down to board shorts and jumped in the ocean!
We spent the rest of our free time exploring the village, walking down its dirt path “main drag.” We watched various small dogs roaming all over the town and stopped in the “super market” for Jesse’s much-desired rum and coke in a can. Many clouds had gathered and it rained for just a little while. We had a hard time believing this was the height of the rainy season.
Back in our cabin, we noticed men working on an electrical box and soon realized the electricity had been turned off. It was cool enough, so I took a short nap. I awoke to Jesse handing me one of those magical tropical fruit cocktails. He said, God told me to get this for you. Thank you God, I said, and the electricity promptly turned back on.
We went for yet another swim – during which Jesse broke all my pool caution rules by:
1. Tossing me in the air and letting me fall completely underwater.
2. Carrying me on his shoulders “chicken” style.
3. Dance lifting me “Patrick Swayze” style.
4. Laying on the bottom of the pool while I tried to walk on his back.
It was dark by the time we returned to our room and we decided to rest since there was still some time before dinner was to be served. We were resting on the double bed, staring at the ceiling, when –all of the sudden- the power went out. We were in utterly dark darkness. Rain had started to fall outside and howler monkeys sounded. It was amazing.
The rain continued to fall even harder and the lights popped back on at a couple minutes to seven. We loaded on raingear and walked over to the dining hall for dinner. More special treatment awaited us. One of the servers with whom we’d become familiar asked if we wanted a table on the porch in order to watch the rain. He led us to a nice candle lit table at the very corner of the covered porch.
We sloshed over to the bar for my nightly journal writing. Jesse had been told a live Calypso band was playing, so as it turned out, I was immediately interrupted from writing by a band member who handed both Jesse and I each a maraca. Holy smokes, I have no rhythm. In fact, I messed up whatever rhythm Jesse may have had alone. My biggest mistake came when the band members were asking whether it was anyone’s birthday…anyone’s anniversary. For some reason I opened my mouth and proudly declared that it was our Luna De Miel! We were instructed to stand and dance, just the two of us. The band began to play “Besame Mucho.”
Oh, I was so embarrassed. The song went on and on. The Spaniards cheered and gave us enthusiastic instructions in Spanish that I didn’t understand. I was happy when the song ended, but what a charming memory!
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