Settling In

The last few weeks have been busy ones. There is always so much to do after a move, and we still have many boxes left to unpack. We have a lot more space around us now, almost enough to go for a true farm theme. I laugh at the thought of this, because deep down inside, I know I am a city girl. Chickens are enough of a farm for me. Rather than eyeing the terrain and placing goat quarters and horse stalls, I am conjuring up visions of Christo and Jeanne-Claude style art installations. Hopelessly useless!

Our oldest has enough space on our property to ride her bike around, and our little one has some fancy, new, all terrain sandals, which she capably straps on everyday to go exploring about. There are nice hilly walks in either direction from our gate that seem to satisfy our dogs, and our cats are quite content with the new wilderness to explore. My husband and I have toasted to another page turned in our now sixteen year adventure together, and so life goes on.

It has been interesting to move within the same little town that we moved to six years ago. It was so foreign then. I had no sense of direction, harldy any command of the language and, of course, I did not know a soul. Moving again has made me realize how much a part of the community we have become. Now I can chat it up with the locals, I know where almost every unnamed dirt road leads to, and we have had a rather steady stream of friends drop in to check out our new stomping grounds.

What is interesting is as I look out on the same hillsides I have been living among for so long, everything that is so familiar is still foreign. I am still a guest here. The landscape that surrounds my home is made of soil trod on by the ancestors of a culture that will never be my own. And as foreign as it will remain to me, so am I to this place. Always a Gringa, and a strange one at that.

What I love about Costa Rica, from May 2008

There are lots of things that I wish were different about Costa Rica. But, to keep it all in perspective, here is a list of the things I do love about this place:

Living in the mountains. Above all, I love the year round moderate temperatures. It can get hot enough to feel great in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and just cold enough to feel cozy in a sweat shirt and jeans. We never need heating or air conditioning, in fact we don't even own a fan. The fresh mountain air is also great for sleeping.

Not needing to have a doctor's prescription for medications saves a lot. I like that when I need something I use, I just go to the pharmacy.

Our vet. Dr. Mariano Villalobos in Puriscal is an excellent veterinarian. He is knowledgeable, professional, and very affordable. (Kitten shots, dogs nails trimmed, and a once over on a cat with a hair loss issue- $30) He has saved our dog's life twice and otherwise lovingly cared for all of our pets.

Our caretaker. Don Orfilio is an exceptional human being. He has looked after our property since before we bought it and has continued with us for three years now. He knows the land and vegetation. He has taught us a lot. Having his help would be much more expensive in the US.

Establos San Rafael. http://www.establosanrafael.com/ This is the stable where my daughter takes riding lessons. We would have been hard pressed to afford lessons of this quality in the US.

Fresh fruits and veggies. These are available all over the world, but just the fact that they are of a tropical variety is exceptional.

Free range meats. We are not vegetarians, and if the saying holds true, "You are what you eat," then I can bet we are "tranquilo."

Watching toucans in a tree while I fold laundry- That's pretty cool.

The first four months of the rainy season. Everything is green and fresh. Mornings are sunny, afternoon rains are hard and short lasting. It's not too muddy. The best though is the way the clouds float around, very enchanting.

The beaches. There is nothing like taking a break on one of the many picturesque beaches of Costa Rica. Our favorite is Manuel Antonio.

The roads. Many people complain about the roads, but the back gravel roads offer an experience beyond any other.

Lupe, from October 2007

The Tree, from October 2007

I have a special relationship with Costa Rica. Part of me can't imagine living anywhere else. How could I ever give up living in a place where cowboys ride their horses through town and clouds float right through my house creating the most enchanting atmosphere I have ever witnessed? Why would I ever leave the fresh air and mellow lifestyle? On the other hand, life has been more complicated here in so many ways that at times I feel panicked by the thought of staying permanently. A perfect example of the paradox of this place happened out at our cabin.

When we first built I stood out on the deck and delightfully looked out at our fairly mature flowering tree. The pale pink blossoms looked like cotton candy, and I imagined watching the girls grow up along side that beautiful tree. It made me feel good that it was there. Then one day our care taker, Don Orfilio, called to ask us if we had cut down that tree. My heart sank. It turns out that two boys came in and cut it down with good intentions of contributing it to the future construction of a green house at their school. I don't have any particular relationship with God, but that day, I was sure I had been sent a message, "Go girl, this place is no place for you."

The odd twist is that the boys were not able to actually carry the tree out on their bike, and so when Miguel expressed how @%^$&* upset I was, Orfilio decided to plant it again. I'm not talking about a seed, or a new tree from the nursery, he simply stuck the cut tree into a hole in the ground, right next to the cut stump. Guess what? It's growing. It may take years for it to be as tall and beautiful as it was, but it is the same tree, and the fact that it is sprouting leaves after being hacked down and left on the ground affirms my high esteem for this enchanting spot on Earth.

So, I carry on here absorbing all of the wonder of these tropical mountains, and hoping that the struggles and disappointments we have had and will encounter along the way are building some remarkable character that I will be glad about one day.

Doña Ramona, from December 2007

Doña Ramona is one of my neighbors. Although I've waved to her countless times over the past four years, I somehow doubt that she even knows I exist. Doña Ramona is an unforgettable woman. She stands about four feet tall, has long graying hair and has certainly never worn a pair of shoes in her life. She is a legend in our neighborhood for filling a cajuela (coffee collection basket) faster than anyone, even in her golden years. I'm told that she is 80. There's a certain fire in her eyes that is haunting, and I can only imagine what her life has been like.

Her home is the last in a long line of tied together tin shacks, with dirt floors and an out house. She is small and weathered, but never seems destitute. It is as if she was born into a world before the luxuries of plumbing and fancy floors. She lives in a place where shoes are optional and life is just life, not necessarily hard, but what it is. It goes to prove that life is only a struggle for the things we have to sacrifice, but if you never know life any other way, perhaps the simplicity is a luxury in itself.

There are others around, people who have not seen enough to imagine they are poor. Whose feet have hardened and spread out so that no shoe would fit, perhaps no part of this sophisticated, polished world would fit. Imagine Doña Ramona suddenly living in a city flat. I think she would be totally overwhelmed. As it is, she has no agenda, no phone, no boss, no car, no debt, no insurance. I'm sure that she has encountered hardships and struggles, as all of us have. Like many at her age, she may not remember the faces that frequently pass her by, but her existence seems much more natural and I feel lucky just to have the chance to observe the innocence life must have had long ago.

Nesting

After nearly six years, we are on the move again. This time we are only going a stone's throw to the west, but still, placing every silly trinket is never done in a day not to mention reestablishing routines with our girls and crossing off the endless list of to dos in the garden and around the house. Needless to say, I anticipate pouring a lot of energy into new projects for a while and so for the next few weeks I will be reposting some of my favorite pieces from the past. I look forward to being all unpacked and settled, and I am sure the days ahead will be full of wonderful material. I'll take notes.