With three days left until I must go back to the real world, I am slowly realizing how much I am going to miss the Jaguar Rescue Center. It's been wonderful to meet so many people, and to watch so many animals go from unhappy to healthy and ready to release.
Otelo is one of those pets. When Otelo first came to the center, he didn't know he was a monkey. For that matter, he was kept in a house with no windows, and so he didn't even know what a tree was. You can imagine how scared Otelo was when he first came to the center, an open space with people who cared about him. At first, Encar tried to interact with him everyday , but everyday she would get bitten badly. It wasn't until she finally had a breakdown and yelled back at him that he started to calm down. When I came to the center, he was accepted into the troop, he could go to the forest, and he was doing better and better. He still had to be separated at night, but during the day he had learned to interact with the monkeys, and could be near them. It seemed like he was on the road to recovery, and everyone was happy to see quick progress being made. He enjoyed going up trees, and could even be around the little monkeys. Until a few days ago. Chipito, our alpha male, attacked him, and so the rest of the troop attacked him. He was shaken up by it and feeling a little depressed. Each volunteers tried to take a few minutes out of their day to spend time with him so he would be reminded that he was still loved. Unfortunately, his old habits kicked in after being ostracised by the rest of the troop. I was spending some time with him after he had bit three other volunteers. I had been able to say that he had never bitten me, until that fateful day. Otelo doesn't attack because he feels threatened, he bites because he doesn't know how to cope with his feelings, just like humans have many various way of dealing with their emotions. This is mostly due to his past. I came in and everything was fine. He was cuddling with me. I scratch his tummy and was gently petting his head. Suddenly, he wanted to go on my shoulder. A lot of times, when monkeys feel like they are going to be abandoned they climb on our shoulder, so we can't leave without them. I thought nothing of it. He was a bit restless, but this was Otelo, who knows what was going through his head. And this is the problem with him, whatever was going through his mind stressed him out enough to bite me. He bit my shoulder, which caused my reaction to swat him off my shoulder, and that's when he bit my hands. Now, I was alone in a cage with him, and he was blocking the door acting agressif. I started calling people's name and it wasn't until Giseala came that I was able to be relieved of my duty. What I haven't mentioned yet, is that in my terror, I decided not to check out check my hand, which was bleeding quite a lot. I wrapped it up in my bandana and tried to ignore what was happening there. My hand is fine, it was a few small scratches, which made it look more dramatic than it truly was. Obviously, I cried as soon as I got to the nursery. I didn't cry because it hurt, but because I was upset that Otelo would not want to be my friend. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but my feelings got hurt because a kid on the playground pushed me and made fun of me- and it wasn't even the popular kid.
Anyway, a few days later, Chipito took my revenge and bit Otelo pretty badly on the arm. The poor little monkey needed five stitches. I got to help witness the operation since I work in the nursery, and all I wanted to do was hug Otelo to tell him that I knew how badly he felt. The problem with Chipito repeatingly biting Otelo is that they will never be able to interact. Otelo will have to be alone forever, or he will have to find a new troop. Without a healthy mind, Otelo can't form his own troop, but without the interactions he has with the rest of the monkeys, he can't be healthy.
While Otelo was in the nursery being healed back to health, I had another sick animal. Fernando didn't seem like his normal self in the morning. His eyes were clouded and he was reacting to my movements. I presented him to Encar with a knot growing in my stomach. Immediately, she gave him some anti-biotics and some other medication, while I was making some apple juice. Between the chaos of Otelo and Chipito, Fernando was to the side, and I was checking on him, cheering on every bite of his leaf. As the day went in, he was put in "intensive care" which means he was put on a thermal blanket and offered apple juice every 30 minutes. It seemed that he was waking up a bit more, and that he was eating a little more. My muscles relaxed and if he made it through the night, I would be a little more hopeful that he would make it. The next morning, I came to the center to see his cage empty. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I rushed over to Encar.
"Where is Fernando?" I was really hoping her answer would be "Upstairs in my bed. He is sleeping peacefully." Instead, she didn't answer and just shook her head. I repeated the question, clearly not understanding what she meant, or not wanting to. She explained to me that he died the night before around 9pm. It hit me right in the heart. Fernando was the baby of the nursery. As much as Palma is my favorite, Fernando was the cutest. He was much smaller, and had the whole weaker-adorable-ness to him. As every volunteer came in to ask me how Fernando was doing, I cried everytime I had to tell them that there was no more Fernando. I cried at least six different times with six different people. As the saying goes "Grief is a luxury", and while I was crying for Fernando, I had five other babies who needed to be cleaned, fed and medicated. So the day went on. I might have not been as talkative or as joyous as usual, but I always tried to give extra love to the animals I would encounter. This attention was meant to be for Fernando, and so, every animal got to heal my grief.
This week has been terrible with animals. We lost our talking parrot, Lola. Tuki Tuki, our terrible tucan, chased her out of the center. While we were all looking for her inside the center, she actually was on the road, terrified and quiet. Finally, she heard someone, got scared and flew into the jungle. For the last two days, we have been looking for a green parrot, in the fiolage of the Costa Rican jungle. I hope everyone can see the humor in this situation, so that Lola can go in style. She probably watches everyday, giggling to herself.
Today we got two new rescues. Some French tourists came in with a dead bat. Two little baby bats were attached to the mommy bat. They are the size of my fingernail. Their feeding is tedious, and like any baby animal, I would like to reduce the transmission of disease and for that reason, I refused to do their feeding. Encar will be the one handling them, or Dora the new nursery volunteer. Baby bats need to have the liquid put drop by drop on their mouth, and then they will lick it off. I am hoping they will grow big and strong as bats are my favorite night animal/ flying animal.
I will be long gone before they will be adults, and I hope my volunteer friends will keep me up to date on all my babies' progress!
Ci-Ciao
Hasta Luego!
See you in the United States my friends!
4/28/2013
4/22/2013
Panama's disaster
Friday was my last day before my big trip to Panama. I consider three day a big trip, as the nursery will be out of my hands, and the last time this happened, we had a disaster (which hopefully had no real consequences, but I'm still expecting sneezing and scratching in the rest of the babies). The planning of the trip was rather simple, I let the hotel know that I needed a shuttle, and they booked the cheapest shuttle for me. All I was told was to hop on a shuttle at 8:30. I didn't ask for more questions, and I had a feeling this was going to be like the bus in Turkey all over, where I will have to rely on the first person who tells me he is my bus driver.
As my day at the center approached an end, and I would have to deal with the hard questions (such as "where will we be staying in Bocas Del Toro?"), Encar has one more favor to ask me. A cameraman and his annoying assistant came to do some filming of sloths. They weren't gonna be longer than an hour, she had told me, but she wanted someone to be able to handle the animals. I was to be that person. I delayed my lunch to be able to feed the sloths leaves and place them where they wanted, facing the camera, eating leaves, eating flowers, on the ground, cuddling with each other, away from the blankets, etc, etc, etc... All the while, the annoying assistant was making absurd sound to sloths as if they were puppies. When it came to Stanley, my poor little blind Kinkajoo, I had to tell her to stop, because the sound she was making was scaring him. Can you imagine being blind and hearing snake-like sound? Yeah, Stanley had to endure it. After I asked her politely to stop, she understood for about three seconds, so I had to let Stanley go right back to his blanket so he could calm down and continue his nap (he is a nocturnal animal). She then moved on to the frogs, which are another nocturnal animal that have no desire to be awaken to be filmed. Yet, I took a deep breath and let them film on of our red eyed green frogs. They actually ended up getting a really cool shot of one jumping. The kicker of the whole shoot was when they asked me to get the two deer together and to lick each other. They had seen it happen but their camera was not ready. I sat there, trying to think of what superpower they thought I possessed, all the while looking at Xai and Xo. I am not sure they realized that those were animals, which meant I had no power over them. After a few attempts, they got distracted with the return of the monkeys. This meant it was 3:00 pm. I had not eaten lunch, my babies had not eaten lunch, and the little owl (Buhito) had not eaten lunch. I saw Encar come down the stairs and asked her to take care of them as I dealt with my own responsibilities. After more absurd requests, they left happy and in ecstasy from all the animals they had been able to video tape. After the long day at the refuge, I was ready to go home and pack my bag.
That is when I realized I was out of clean underwear. I was gonna have to go to Panama in one pair of underwear, and my swimsuit. I plan things out so well. It was less clothes to pack, so for three days, I had to figure out how I was gonna survive underwear-less. The answer is with a lot of dresses.
Anyway, while I had my dinner at the restaurant in my hotel, the news blasted that they had caught the second Boston Bombing suspect. As glad as I was, I couldn't help but be surprised by the comment of other Americans in the restaurant, being derogatory towards Muslims. I understand racism exists everywhere, but to feel it down in a place where I have, personally, felt nothing but care and compassion, was shocking. I have grown a pair of balls for people who are disrespectful to others' face. Unfortunately, when no one is hurt directly by the comments, I feel no need to get into an argument with bigots. I can tell you how it ends, just like they can tell you how it ends. No side feels like they've won, but no side feels like they've lost.
They shut the TV off and went to bed after I made a comment about how there is bad people everywhere, and I went to bed shortly after. I had a shuttle to catch at 8:15.
On Saturday morning, the shuttle showed up at 8:45. How Costa Rican... After a short ride to the border, we arrived at this small building. The fruit and vegetable store down the street is bigger than border patrol. We got our passport stamped out of Costa Rica, and had to walk across a shaky bridge. It had been raining, and was still raining and all I could think about was how I could slip and drop my passport in the murky water. Once we made it to the other side, we had to get our passport stamped by the Panamian border and paid 3$ to get a sticker on my passport. Simen had to show his plane ticket twice and all I had to do was hand over my passport for the stamp. I was allowed to stay in Panama/ Costa Rica forever. Once we arrived, in the lazy traveler I had become, I didn't plan a hotel to stay at, and therefore, we went from hotel to hotel trying to find a private room with a terrace. We found a very nice man who took us around until we had found exactly what we wanted. The hotel was a little grimy compared to the one I was staying at in, but it had a terrace, two beds and a private bathroom/ shower that was promising hot water (I say promising, because it was barely lukewarm water).
The biggest problem in Panama was not the rain, that I could deal with, but the lack of update on Trip Advisor. I kept on finding amazing restaurants that were closed, which forced us to eat at other amazing restaurants, like Wine Bar and Tapas.Goodness, I was making love to me goat cheese over apple tatin on a puff pastry. I will forever hold the memory of putting that delicious pastry in my mouth...
Alright, back to reality, the rain was really an issue though, and dampen my trip. We were suppose to enjoy a boat ride to the dolphin lagoon, then snorkle for a bit, sunbath on the red frog beach and go to one last beach. This trip was starting at 9:30 and ending at 4:30. We came home at 2pm, soaking yet, and freezing. We did see dolphins, but the snorkling lasted about 30 mns (even though the reefs were absolutely gorgeous) and the red frog beach was spent at the restaurant trying to warm ourselves up. After that, we obviously wanted to go home, and the moment we arrived at our hotel, the sun came out. We spent our time wisely on the terrace drying off and reading. It was relaxing but not the most enjoyable vacations from the animals.
We finally made it home today (Monday), and I enjoyed a nice breakfast and a day back in my bed, on my computer and back in my familiar space. I went to do a bit of shopping and to enjoy the town at night.
The one thing I need to mention because everyone has been asking me for pictures of the animals. As much as people have enjoyed pictures of Palma, I must show you real amazing pictures. So everyone head over here: http://annapsalmond.com/#/160531 for Anna Psalmond's pictures. It is the photoshot I helped out and the pictures are magnificent. I am jealous of her skills with a camera, while I try my best to be artsy with the animals (and they even make fun of me for it).
As my day at the center approached an end, and I would have to deal with the hard questions (such as "where will we be staying in Bocas Del Toro?"), Encar has one more favor to ask me. A cameraman and his annoying assistant came to do some filming of sloths. They weren't gonna be longer than an hour, she had told me, but she wanted someone to be able to handle the animals. I was to be that person. I delayed my lunch to be able to feed the sloths leaves and place them where they wanted, facing the camera, eating leaves, eating flowers, on the ground, cuddling with each other, away from the blankets, etc, etc, etc... All the while, the annoying assistant was making absurd sound to sloths as if they were puppies. When it came to Stanley, my poor little blind Kinkajoo, I had to tell her to stop, because the sound she was making was scaring him. Can you imagine being blind and hearing snake-like sound? Yeah, Stanley had to endure it. After I asked her politely to stop, she understood for about three seconds, so I had to let Stanley go right back to his blanket so he could calm down and continue his nap (he is a nocturnal animal). She then moved on to the frogs, which are another nocturnal animal that have no desire to be awaken to be filmed. Yet, I took a deep breath and let them film on of our red eyed green frogs. They actually ended up getting a really cool shot of one jumping. The kicker of the whole shoot was when they asked me to get the two deer together and to lick each other. They had seen it happen but their camera was not ready. I sat there, trying to think of what superpower they thought I possessed, all the while looking at Xai and Xo. I am not sure they realized that those were animals, which meant I had no power over them. After a few attempts, they got distracted with the return of the monkeys. This meant it was 3:00 pm. I had not eaten lunch, my babies had not eaten lunch, and the little owl (Buhito) had not eaten lunch. I saw Encar come down the stairs and asked her to take care of them as I dealt with my own responsibilities. After more absurd requests, they left happy and in ecstasy from all the animals they had been able to video tape. After the long day at the refuge, I was ready to go home and pack my bag.
That is when I realized I was out of clean underwear. I was gonna have to go to Panama in one pair of underwear, and my swimsuit. I plan things out so well. It was less clothes to pack, so for three days, I had to figure out how I was gonna survive underwear-less. The answer is with a lot of dresses.
Anyway, while I had my dinner at the restaurant in my hotel, the news blasted that they had caught the second Boston Bombing suspect. As glad as I was, I couldn't help but be surprised by the comment of other Americans in the restaurant, being derogatory towards Muslims. I understand racism exists everywhere, but to feel it down in a place where I have, personally, felt nothing but care and compassion, was shocking. I have grown a pair of balls for people who are disrespectful to others' face. Unfortunately, when no one is hurt directly by the comments, I feel no need to get into an argument with bigots. I can tell you how it ends, just like they can tell you how it ends. No side feels like they've won, but no side feels like they've lost.
They shut the TV off and went to bed after I made a comment about how there is bad people everywhere, and I went to bed shortly after. I had a shuttle to catch at 8:15.
On Saturday morning, the shuttle showed up at 8:45. How Costa Rican... After a short ride to the border, we arrived at this small building. The fruit and vegetable store down the street is bigger than border patrol. We got our passport stamped out of Costa Rica, and had to walk across a shaky bridge. It had been raining, and was still raining and all I could think about was how I could slip and drop my passport in the murky water. Once we made it to the other side, we had to get our passport stamped by the Panamian border and paid 3$ to get a sticker on my passport. Simen had to show his plane ticket twice and all I had to do was hand over my passport for the stamp. I was allowed to stay in Panama/ Costa Rica forever. Once we arrived, in the lazy traveler I had become, I didn't plan a hotel to stay at, and therefore, we went from hotel to hotel trying to find a private room with a terrace. We found a very nice man who took us around until we had found exactly what we wanted. The hotel was a little grimy compared to the one I was staying at in, but it had a terrace, two beds and a private bathroom/ shower that was promising hot water (I say promising, because it was barely lukewarm water).
The biggest problem in Panama was not the rain, that I could deal with, but the lack of update on Trip Advisor. I kept on finding amazing restaurants that were closed, which forced us to eat at other amazing restaurants, like Wine Bar and Tapas.Goodness, I was making love to me goat cheese over apple tatin on a puff pastry. I will forever hold the memory of putting that delicious pastry in my mouth...
Alright, back to reality, the rain was really an issue though, and dampen my trip. We were suppose to enjoy a boat ride to the dolphin lagoon, then snorkle for a bit, sunbath on the red frog beach and go to one last beach. This trip was starting at 9:30 and ending at 4:30. We came home at 2pm, soaking yet, and freezing. We did see dolphins, but the snorkling lasted about 30 mns (even though the reefs were absolutely gorgeous) and the red frog beach was spent at the restaurant trying to warm ourselves up. After that, we obviously wanted to go home, and the moment we arrived at our hotel, the sun came out. We spent our time wisely on the terrace drying off and reading. It was relaxing but not the most enjoyable vacations from the animals.
We finally made it home today (Monday), and I enjoyed a nice breakfast and a day back in my bed, on my computer and back in my familiar space. I went to do a bit of shopping and to enjoy the town at night.
The one thing I need to mention because everyone has been asking me for pictures of the animals. As much as people have enjoyed pictures of Palma, I must show you real amazing pictures. So everyone head over here: http://annapsalmond.com/#/160531 for Anna Psalmond's pictures. It is the photoshot I helped out and the pictures are magnificent. I am jealous of her skills with a camera, while I try my best to be artsy with the animals (and they even make fun of me for it).
4/18/2013
Long time no see
It is been a few days since my incident at the center. For
those of you who didn’t read my last blog post, I ended up crying after a huge
misunderstanding. It was silly, but everyone needs to cry every once in awhile.
It was necessary for my mental health, and after a month and a half of smiles
and laughter, I needed a moment of blues.
On my free day (Sunday), I was invited to chanting and
meditation with Ron and Diane. I met Ron at my hotel’s reception desk. He was
trying his best to communicate with the security guard, Alex. Between Alex’s
poor English and Ron’s inability to speak Spanish, they were both glad to see
my sleepy face. In my somewhat broken Spanish, I asked Alex where the black chair was, and within minutes the mystery was solved. Ron was amazed at my timing and ability to speak Spanish (the whole "donde esta la silla negra?" is obviously Level 5 Spanish) and asked me where I was from. From then on, he would show up to my hotel, on and off with his wife, Diane took care of my sunburns and would invite me places. On Thursday, I saw them in the street, and we started chit-chatting about my sunburns and future plans. That's when they invited me to do some chanting and meditation. I use to meditate two years ago, and I haven't been able to since. Eager to try again, I agreed to wake up at 8:30 on my day off to attend the 9AM session.
I was not disappointed. The meeting took place at Casa Amma, which is named after the whole belief that with love, peace on Earth is possible. It is not a crazy concept, and the songs in old sankrit are quiet amusing to sing along to. At first, I felt extremely out of places. The people there where very hippy and not as welcoming as I expected. I think Diane noticed it and tried to get me to sit next to her. As ironic as it sound, I was so tense, I barely noticed I had dug my nails into my knees. Here I was trying to relax, and I couldn't help but be stressed out. This is why I tend to be a mess. It wasn't until the moment the reunion between old friends turned into the actual "service" that I started to feel better. After listening to Amma's views on the world and on oneself, we started chanting the mother's many names. Such as "Mother who cares for the blind." or "Mother who touches lepers." I mean you get the picture. The cool thing was that because this was all written in phonetic sanskrit, this experience could be juxtaposed to any religion. The point of going was to have a spiritual experience again, and to feel refreshed from it. After the chanting, we had ten minutes of meditation. Those ten minutes were the easiest ten minutes of meditations I have every performed. The open balcony provided us with the sound of the wave crashing on the black sand of Playa Negra, and the baby birds in the nest nearby started to chirp. Those are barely distraction when you can focus on your breathing and feel every muscle in your body release the stress and anger from earlier.
After our meditation circle, we had a ritual to perform. Everyone seemed to have done it before, and I tried to pay close attention in order to be able to repeat it. I am not sure what I just agreed to, or what I just express through my performing of those actions, but I robed myself in incense smoke, and dotted my forehead with ash and a red pigmentation powder. After the whole ordeal, which I think I handled pretty well, we were invited to Leo's house (which is on the same premises) for banana bread, and chai tea. I accepted the kind offer since I did truly want to try to befriend those strange people. The Chai tea was absolutely incredible. I barely talked to anyone, because I was too busy drinking cup after cup. The banana bread was impressive for being home made, but I was not to fill myself up on banana bread as I was determined to have my eggs benedict later.
4/13/2013
Emotions and Dinner
Today was a rough day at work. The only reason I say this is because I actually cried. I don't know if I was just tired from the night before's festivities, seeing Jennifer be upset yesterday, or myself being actually upset, but I took a minute to cry. Obviously, it was at this exact moment that Encar walked by. I wasn't sure how to express to her my state, as I was confused by my own feelings. This week was filled with duties that did not include actually stay with the animals, but merely passing by and glancing at them for a few minutes. I think my frustration stemmed came from seeing the newer volunteers playing with the monkeys and sloths, while I did the hard work. Finally today, after days of looking forward to giving tours (mainly because I get to be with the monkeys for a whooping 10 minutes), I was redirected towards the gift shop. I managed the gift shop for the whole day, no animals interaction. This ultimate thought stirred anger and confusion, yet Encar saw it as she trusted me, and as a new privilege. Between her and Nerea trying to console me, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of shame. I was there to be helpful, including gift shop duty (which has never been a volunteer's duty), poop duty, and window cleaning. I was becoming one of those people who had an agenda, instead of doing charity work for the sake of the charity.
This week has been a roller coaster of emotions. First, I went to the vet with Encar. We went with Tyson who had a little cold (mucus in his left lung. He recovered) and with a very tiny little sloth. It took three people to hold down a baby two toed sloth name after a famous boxing champion just to get a clear listening to his lungs. The little sloth was much easier, he hasn't been able to pee in a few days now, therefore was extremely uncomfortable. It took 6 5ml-syringes to drain the little guy, who buy the way is slightly smaller than my head. While I was suffering at the gift shop, Encar was suffering on the phone to try to coordinate a trip to San Jose for that exact little one. After the sloths were examined and their fate was decided, it was time to hear about the monkeys. They had blood work done before I was given nursery duty, and as I sat in the chair holding the little hold-it-in-my-pants, Dr Alfonso rattled results. I thanked the Medical Spanish course I took by accident in university and understood what was wrong with my monkeys. Now, I never took an English medical course, and therefore can provide very limited translation, but no extra medication for our adult monkeys. As much of a relief as it is, it means that we still aren't sure what is wrong.
After going to the vet, and being bored out of my mind, Poo asked me if I wanted to go to the forest for 20 minutes. I agreed as I had never been to the forest, and again, I haven't spent real cuddle time with the animals. As soon as I arrived, I saw that there was three alpha males in the neighboring trees. Chipito, our weak alpha male, had to be taken home. So shortly after arriving, I tried to convince Chipito to come home with me. Let me offer you this piece of advice, convincing a human male to come home with me is much easier than convincing a male monkey.
The other exciting news is that we had release the agouti yesterday, and while we actually meant to put him in the sloth garden and he ran away, he has come back. The animals like to take vacations from us, and then realize that, after all we feed them good, and they got cuddles. At that point, most want to stay, but one day they leave us for good, just like Gouti gouti.
On my day off, I had the joy to spend it doing everyday errands. I went out for brunch, in the hope to get some eggs benedict. The Puerto Viejo bakery is a little piece of heaven in this paradise land. It is a French bakery, and it opens at 7am. Everyday, I have to joy of getting myself a croissant and some delicious lunch if need be. I had been eyeing their eggs benedict for days now, only to be met with disappointment. It turned out they didn't have the sauce, and so I accepted Banana Panqueque, which are banana pancakes.
After my delicious, buttered panqueques, I went grocery shopping for our homecooked dinner. JT, the owner of the hotel I am staying at, and I have formed a habit of cooking ourselves delicious dinners. Tonight's menu was a salad, with mushroom sauce over filet mignon (Lomito) and mashed potatoes. Needless to say, dinner was quiet as we were chomping down on our red meat. The thought of buying a machete was no longer on our mind. After dinner, we had a good long conversation about religion, relationships and future. It was all so perfect, that the next few days' meals seemed dull in comparison.
The night after we went to "Todos que Posible", a bar that plays drums every Friday night. The night was enjoyable due to the musical prouesse and to the good company. Marloes had come back from her trip for a few days, and this was her first appearance. A little tanner, but with a bigger smile, she asked me about the nursery and the people. It was as if she had never left, and it was as she had never left the nursery.
We are suppose to see each other some more before she leaves for good. So for now, I am going to finish season 2 of Downtown Abbey.
Buenas Noches!
This week has been a roller coaster of emotions. First, I went to the vet with Encar. We went with Tyson who had a little cold (mucus in his left lung. He recovered) and with a very tiny little sloth. It took three people to hold down a baby two toed sloth name after a famous boxing champion just to get a clear listening to his lungs. The little sloth was much easier, he hasn't been able to pee in a few days now, therefore was extremely uncomfortable. It took 6 5ml-syringes to drain the little guy, who buy the way is slightly smaller than my head. While I was suffering at the gift shop, Encar was suffering on the phone to try to coordinate a trip to San Jose for that exact little one. After the sloths were examined and their fate was decided, it was time to hear about the monkeys. They had blood work done before I was given nursery duty, and as I sat in the chair holding the little hold-it-in-my-pants, Dr Alfonso rattled results. I thanked the Medical Spanish course I took by accident in university and understood what was wrong with my monkeys. Now, I never took an English medical course, and therefore can provide very limited translation, but no extra medication for our adult monkeys. As much of a relief as it is, it means that we still aren't sure what is wrong.
After going to the vet, and being bored out of my mind, Poo asked me if I wanted to go to the forest for 20 minutes. I agreed as I had never been to the forest, and again, I haven't spent real cuddle time with the animals. As soon as I arrived, I saw that there was three alpha males in the neighboring trees. Chipito, our weak alpha male, had to be taken home. So shortly after arriving, I tried to convince Chipito to come home with me. Let me offer you this piece of advice, convincing a human male to come home with me is much easier than convincing a male monkey.
The other exciting news is that we had release the agouti yesterday, and while we actually meant to put him in the sloth garden and he ran away, he has come back. The animals like to take vacations from us, and then realize that, after all we feed them good, and they got cuddles. At that point, most want to stay, but one day they leave us for good, just like Gouti gouti.
On my day off, I had the joy to spend it doing everyday errands. I went out for brunch, in the hope to get some eggs benedict. The Puerto Viejo bakery is a little piece of heaven in this paradise land. It is a French bakery, and it opens at 7am. Everyday, I have to joy of getting myself a croissant and some delicious lunch if need be. I had been eyeing their eggs benedict for days now, only to be met with disappointment. It turned out they didn't have the sauce, and so I accepted Banana Panqueque, which are banana pancakes.
After my delicious, buttered panqueques, I went grocery shopping for our homecooked dinner. JT, the owner of the hotel I am staying at, and I have formed a habit of cooking ourselves delicious dinners. Tonight's menu was a salad, with mushroom sauce over filet mignon (Lomito) and mashed potatoes. Needless to say, dinner was quiet as we were chomping down on our red meat. The thought of buying a machete was no longer on our mind. After dinner, we had a good long conversation about religion, relationships and future. It was all so perfect, that the next few days' meals seemed dull in comparison.
The night after we went to "Todos que Posible", a bar that plays drums every Friday night. The night was enjoyable due to the musical prouesse and to the good company. Marloes had come back from her trip for a few days, and this was her first appearance. A little tanner, but with a bigger smile, she asked me about the nursery and the people. It was as if she had never left, and it was as she had never left the nursery.
We are suppose to see each other some more before she leaves for good. So for now, I am going to finish season 2 of Downtown Abbey.
Buenas Noches!
4/08/2013
Never ending sunburns
In the last three days, so much as happened. Death, illness and a lot of pondering. The moment I left the room from my Skype interview, I wondered what would happen if I didn't get the job. I hadn't applied to a lot of jobs- for that matter only two. As a tour guide I didn't truly make enough for a living down here and therefore, I would rely on generous tips from tourists for dinner and for housing. So far, my bank account was looking good, but if I chose to live down here for five months next year, how would I survive?
I looked into travel blogs, those are the people who spend 5 years abroad, and make money appear out of thin air. Well, I noticed their pattern. They taught abroad, or they worked on a cruise ship. They tended to find places to work that didn't require a career, but merely a job. This was the defining point in my life, did I want a career, or a job? I am still young and have time to figure it out. The need to have my future planned out comes purely from my anxiety, and the desire to be financially secure. This adventure has taught me that, after all, job security is merely just something people dream off. I have met tons of travelers down here who lost their job, sold their business, and decided to come for their mid-interview travels. So who really knows where the world is taking me. Not me that's for sure.
I have talked about death and illness in my paragraph above. Unfortunately, LB (Little baby squirrel) died today while I was giving a tour. Encar found it under the blanket having issues breathing. Between my two tours, I sat with her and hope she could understand my gentle words. I had to leave to take a group around, and was hoping that she would still be alive when I came back. I am not sure if an hour would have made the difference as she was having real problems breathing and was struggling to keep her eyes open. An hour or two would have made no difference in her battle with life or death, but in my mind, the sound of my voice would help her survive.
While we are on the train of bad news, we have two two-toed sloths that are struggling with diseases. Dante has scabies, and is extremely contagious to everyone. Anytime I hold him to feed him, I feel like a thousand little mites are crawling on me.
While Dante is struggling with itchy skin, Tyson is struggling with a little sneeze. I sit by her side, and try to make sure her breathing is regular, and her sneezing goes down. Tyson is named after the infamous Mike Tyson, because she bites anything that she can put in her little mouth. We found out a little too late that Mike Tyson was a lady sloth, and the name had to stick as she is now known as "The biter".
The other bad news is for our tiniest baby three-toed- sloth. He is barely a week old, and has bladder problems. In order to fix him, Encar brought him to the pediatrician, and yes, you heard right. We brought a baby sloth to a human doctor for ultrasound. The ultrasounds came out to be unhelpful, as we are still unsure as to why he refuses to pee. Another mystery about sloths.
I am glad to say that one of our animal is doing great. Our baby owl is growing new feathers which will give us a better understanding of which species he is. Not only that, but he eats by himself and enjoys our company. If he continues on this path, he will grow to be an old owl who can eat and find its mate. As romantic as it sounds, owl mate for life, and therefore only have one partner their entire life. When that partner dies, they let themselves die as well. This baby will hopefully produce more babies and life a happy long life of baby making with his mate and flying all around Costa Rica with his little family.
I finally had time to feed the baby monkeys again today. I hadn't done it in a long time, and was wondering if any of the monkeys remembered me. I walked into the cage with my two baby bottles filled with milk, and at that point it didn't matter who I was, a swarm of baby howler monkeys rushed towards me. After having three monkeys on top of me, each fighting for the other's bottle, Lina remained. She had curled up on my arm, and was still sucking on the rubber nipple. While she was peacefully eating (she is the sweetest of the babies), Jet came over and smacked the bottle out of her hands. I graduated with a minor in Peace and Conflict studies, but no classes had prepared me for a monkey fight. I tried to calm Lina down, while reprimanding Jet at the same time. While Jet was holding his hands out towards the bottle and Lina was burying herself in my armpit, I finally gave up and gave more milk to Jet, and cuddled for a bit with Lina. She will have to learn to throw her own tantrums someday.
On Saturday, it was Poo's birthday party. Poo is the manager who had kindly shown me around on my first day. She had a little get together where everyone from the center showed up for the exception of Jimi and his wife. I was truly excited to see them, as I am always interested in people's spouses. It always intrigues me to see who marries who. Jimi will have to take his "mujer" out another time, so I can finally see her. Towards the end of the party, once everyone had been forced to dance with someone - I was spun around and dipped a couple times, a terrifying, yet lovely experience- Dora and I decided to call ourselves a taxi. Well, little did we know that the bar wasn't going to figure out the bill, so we set ourselves out on a mission to get money from everyone. Within 20 minutes, everyone had paid and Poo had bought me a free drink - which was quickly spilled by Laia.
The next day was my day off, and as tradition required, I woke up at 6 AM. I sat in my bed trying to think of things to do. It wasn't until I remembered someone mentioned zip-lining that I realized I needed to zip line in Costa Rica. I had found my activity, but now I had to find a center for it. After doing some research, and deciding that there was no cheaper zip lining than 50$ per person in Puerto Viejo, I had set my eyes on Geiko Trails adventures. They had a group leaving at 8:30, and one at 1PM. I might have some luck joining the 1 pm one since from the website, it looked like you had to reserve three days in advance. I googled the place, it was on Avenida 215, so after putting my cute dress one (which really was the only thing left I had to wear), I set out to find this agency. I am going to blame my womanhood for struggling with direction, but I am pretty certain I turned on the right street, as there is only so many streets to turn down on. After a bit of biking, I finally decided to check out other places. I had seen online something about Reef Runner, and I couldn't remember if the reviews were good or not. The important thing was that the place was open, so I entered the empty office to be greeted by a man who had the same stature as Rob Schneider's character (Ula) in 50 first dates. He informed me that they had a group leaving for scuba diving in three minutes, and after explaining that I didn't have a license, he encouraged me to go snorkeling. I had never snorkeled, and I wasn't sure if it was worth it, but to be honest, I had nothing to do and it was my day off. Being in the ocean for 5 hours, with lunch included and a boat ride sounded perfect for now. And so, within the three minutes, I made the decision to pay 35$ and go on this crazy adventure. As I was the only one going snorkeling, I would be abandoned on the beach until lunch time, and then abandoned again until it was time to leave. Snorkeling was an experience I was ready to have alone, and I agreed to be alone for hours at a time in a vast ocean and a tiny tube.
Needless to say, 5 hours was not merely enough. I could have spent the whole day in there. The beauty that is under the ocean is always surprising to me. I was dropped off at the reefs in Punta Uva, and I jumped immediately in the water. It took me about a minute to start drowning because I was too busy screaming at the beautiful fish rather than paying attention to the fact that I needed oxygen to breath, not salt water. This was just the beginning, I hadn't even gone to the deepest part of the ocean yet, where the lion fish, eels and schools of Foureye butterflyfish, Yellow head wrasse and Ocean surgeon fish were waiting for me. I followed each school of fish in the hope they would bring me to amazing lands where I could find more amazing crevasses, and beautiful fish. At first, I had to make up names for all those fish, since I obviously didn't go diving being a fish-o-phile. Most of them were called: strippy fish, blue fish, blue spotted ghetto fish, cow fish until I got home to look at pictures and remember their actual names. Unfortunately, my favorite fish down in the reef was not found on the internet, and will forever remain blue spotted ghetto fish. It looked like it had blue bling on, and that's how it got the name "ghetto fish". It was a beautiful fish that I wish I could have taken a picture with, but before my trip, I had decided to go cheap and not being a waterproof camera. Curse me and my wallet.
After snorkeling for five hours, I got back on the boat and the nice scuba diving instructor pointed out to me that I had a little sunburn. She giggled , while I put my head in my hands. I never have a little sunburn. It starts out as a little sunburn, and then later grows into a rageful second degree burn. There was nothing I could do about it now, but accept my fate that my back will hurt for a few days. After my excursion, I biked to the rescue center, where I put my pareo on and everyone gasps at my back. My expectations were met, and I had a terrible sunburn on my back. I suddenly felt it on the back of my legs, and later on the butt checks. As expected, Encar took one look at me and gave me the mom-eyes. The eyes that go "You cannot be serious, Allison. You will be the death of me with those sunburns.", the eyes that any mothers know to use to put their child to shame.
Today is the "day after". I had to take some painkillers, just in order to get up. I didn't skip out on work, since I was tour guiding today and I didn't have to sit down much. Once I was sat down though, I remained seated for a bit. At the end of the day, I felt so wiped out that I called myself and the three German girls a taxi to get home.
I got home to a nice lukewarm shower since the shared cold showers were being renovated. I could not be happier to have it today. And then I ate, and went back to watching Downtown Abbey.
Somethings never change!
I looked into travel blogs, those are the people who spend 5 years abroad, and make money appear out of thin air. Well, I noticed their pattern. They taught abroad, or they worked on a cruise ship. They tended to find places to work that didn't require a career, but merely a job. This was the defining point in my life, did I want a career, or a job? I am still young and have time to figure it out. The need to have my future planned out comes purely from my anxiety, and the desire to be financially secure. This adventure has taught me that, after all, job security is merely just something people dream off. I have met tons of travelers down here who lost their job, sold their business, and decided to come for their mid-interview travels. So who really knows where the world is taking me. Not me that's for sure.
I have talked about death and illness in my paragraph above. Unfortunately, LB (Little baby squirrel) died today while I was giving a tour. Encar found it under the blanket having issues breathing. Between my two tours, I sat with her and hope she could understand my gentle words. I had to leave to take a group around, and was hoping that she would still be alive when I came back. I am not sure if an hour would have made the difference as she was having real problems breathing and was struggling to keep her eyes open. An hour or two would have made no difference in her battle with life or death, but in my mind, the sound of my voice would help her survive.
While we are on the train of bad news, we have two two-toed sloths that are struggling with diseases. Dante has scabies, and is extremely contagious to everyone. Anytime I hold him to feed him, I feel like a thousand little mites are crawling on me.
While Dante is struggling with itchy skin, Tyson is struggling with a little sneeze. I sit by her side, and try to make sure her breathing is regular, and her sneezing goes down. Tyson is named after the infamous Mike Tyson, because she bites anything that she can put in her little mouth. We found out a little too late that Mike Tyson was a lady sloth, and the name had to stick as she is now known as "The biter".
The other bad news is for our tiniest baby three-toed- sloth. He is barely a week old, and has bladder problems. In order to fix him, Encar brought him to the pediatrician, and yes, you heard right. We brought a baby sloth to a human doctor for ultrasound. The ultrasounds came out to be unhelpful, as we are still unsure as to why he refuses to pee. Another mystery about sloths.
I am glad to say that one of our animal is doing great. Our baby owl is growing new feathers which will give us a better understanding of which species he is. Not only that, but he eats by himself and enjoys our company. If he continues on this path, he will grow to be an old owl who can eat and find its mate. As romantic as it sounds, owl mate for life, and therefore only have one partner their entire life. When that partner dies, they let themselves die as well. This baby will hopefully produce more babies and life a happy long life of baby making with his mate and flying all around Costa Rica with his little family.
I finally had time to feed the baby monkeys again today. I hadn't done it in a long time, and was wondering if any of the monkeys remembered me. I walked into the cage with my two baby bottles filled with milk, and at that point it didn't matter who I was, a swarm of baby howler monkeys rushed towards me. After having three monkeys on top of me, each fighting for the other's bottle, Lina remained. She had curled up on my arm, and was still sucking on the rubber nipple. While she was peacefully eating (she is the sweetest of the babies), Jet came over and smacked the bottle out of her hands. I graduated with a minor in Peace and Conflict studies, but no classes had prepared me for a monkey fight. I tried to calm Lina down, while reprimanding Jet at the same time. While Jet was holding his hands out towards the bottle and Lina was burying herself in my armpit, I finally gave up and gave more milk to Jet, and cuddled for a bit with Lina. She will have to learn to throw her own tantrums someday.
On Saturday, it was Poo's birthday party. Poo is the manager who had kindly shown me around on my first day. She had a little get together where everyone from the center showed up for the exception of Jimi and his wife. I was truly excited to see them, as I am always interested in people's spouses. It always intrigues me to see who marries who. Jimi will have to take his "mujer" out another time, so I can finally see her. Towards the end of the party, once everyone had been forced to dance with someone - I was spun around and dipped a couple times, a terrifying, yet lovely experience- Dora and I decided to call ourselves a taxi. Well, little did we know that the bar wasn't going to figure out the bill, so we set ourselves out on a mission to get money from everyone. Within 20 minutes, everyone had paid and Poo had bought me a free drink - which was quickly spilled by Laia.
The next day was my day off, and as tradition required, I woke up at 6 AM. I sat in my bed trying to think of things to do. It wasn't until I remembered someone mentioned zip-lining that I realized I needed to zip line in Costa Rica. I had found my activity, but now I had to find a center for it. After doing some research, and deciding that there was no cheaper zip lining than 50$ per person in Puerto Viejo, I had set my eyes on Geiko Trails adventures. They had a group leaving at 8:30, and one at 1PM. I might have some luck joining the 1 pm one since from the website, it looked like you had to reserve three days in advance. I googled the place, it was on Avenida 215, so after putting my cute dress one (which really was the only thing left I had to wear), I set out to find this agency. I am going to blame my womanhood for struggling with direction, but I am pretty certain I turned on the right street, as there is only so many streets to turn down on. After a bit of biking, I finally decided to check out other places. I had seen online something about Reef Runner, and I couldn't remember if the reviews were good or not. The important thing was that the place was open, so I entered the empty office to be greeted by a man who had the same stature as Rob Schneider's character (Ula) in 50 first dates. He informed me that they had a group leaving for scuba diving in three minutes, and after explaining that I didn't have a license, he encouraged me to go snorkeling. I had never snorkeled, and I wasn't sure if it was worth it, but to be honest, I had nothing to do and it was my day off. Being in the ocean for 5 hours, with lunch included and a boat ride sounded perfect for now. And so, within the three minutes, I made the decision to pay 35$ and go on this crazy adventure. As I was the only one going snorkeling, I would be abandoned on the beach until lunch time, and then abandoned again until it was time to leave. Snorkeling was an experience I was ready to have alone, and I agreed to be alone for hours at a time in a vast ocean and a tiny tube.
Needless to say, 5 hours was not merely enough. I could have spent the whole day in there. The beauty that is under the ocean is always surprising to me. I was dropped off at the reefs in Punta Uva, and I jumped immediately in the water. It took me about a minute to start drowning because I was too busy screaming at the beautiful fish rather than paying attention to the fact that I needed oxygen to breath, not salt water. This was just the beginning, I hadn't even gone to the deepest part of the ocean yet, where the lion fish, eels and schools of Foureye butterflyfish, Yellow head wrasse and Ocean surgeon fish were waiting for me. I followed each school of fish in the hope they would bring me to amazing lands where I could find more amazing crevasses, and beautiful fish. At first, I had to make up names for all those fish, since I obviously didn't go diving being a fish-o-phile. Most of them were called: strippy fish, blue fish, blue spotted ghetto fish, cow fish until I got home to look at pictures and remember their actual names. Unfortunately, my favorite fish down in the reef was not found on the internet, and will forever remain blue spotted ghetto fish. It looked like it had blue bling on, and that's how it got the name "ghetto fish". It was a beautiful fish that I wish I could have taken a picture with, but before my trip, I had decided to go cheap and not being a waterproof camera. Curse me and my wallet.
After snorkeling for five hours, I got back on the boat and the nice scuba diving instructor pointed out to me that I had a little sunburn. She giggled , while I put my head in my hands. I never have a little sunburn. It starts out as a little sunburn, and then later grows into a rageful second degree burn. There was nothing I could do about it now, but accept my fate that my back will hurt for a few days. After my excursion, I biked to the rescue center, where I put my pareo on and everyone gasps at my back. My expectations were met, and I had a terrible sunburn on my back. I suddenly felt it on the back of my legs, and later on the butt checks. As expected, Encar took one look at me and gave me the mom-eyes. The eyes that go "You cannot be serious, Allison. You will be the death of me with those sunburns.", the eyes that any mothers know to use to put their child to shame.
Today is the "day after". I had to take some painkillers, just in order to get up. I didn't skip out on work, since I was tour guiding today and I didn't have to sit down much. Once I was sat down though, I remained seated for a bit. At the end of the day, I felt so wiped out that I called myself and the three German girls a taxi to get home.
I got home to a nice lukewarm shower since the shared cold showers were being renovated. I could not be happier to have it today. And then I ate, and went back to watching Downtown Abbey.
Somethings never change!
4/05/2013
The interview and Cahuita
Update on my baby squirrels: They have left mommy's nest. By that I mean that they are now outside in the squirrel enclosure, and LB (little baby) doesn't cry anymore. While BB (big baby) has been making his nest, LB has just started to enjoy herself in her new home. As sad as I am that I no longer have to work out and cuddle them, we have a new arrival!
A tiny little baby owl came in, riddled with infections, dead skin and dirt. This little white fluff ball of feathers was starving, and gobbled down any big chuck of chicken passing his beak. Good news for us, he has an appetite. No need to force feed this one. The next day he opened his eyes, while I cleaned his beak and legs with cotton and tea. The tea acts as a moisturizer and helps get rid of the dead skin gently. His beak was looking better already, and his legs were cleaner. Encar was giving him the right antibiotics for his little infection, but while he ate a mouse's head (the mouse was cut in three), he started panting heavily. This worried both Encar and I who then spent the next two hours by his side trying to give him water, cuddle him and calm him down. After this hour, he seemed so tired and went straight to bed. I haven't been at the center today to check on him, and therefore, I am not sure how he is doing now, but my thoughts are with this new little one who is now residing in my squirrels' old cage.
While we have a nursery, we also have a quarantine area. This is the area in a corner of the garden where the sick or scared animals go to recuperate and be ready to be released. We have an agouti in there who had a bad leg. As we were giving antibiotics and trying to help him with his broken leg, he was acting like a true wild animal, and didn't warm up to us like the other agouti we have. This agouti had been attacked by a dog. His injuries were so bad that his liver was hanging outside of his body. A quick trip to San Jose, and a surgery later, he was in quarantine. Obviously, he is doing much better now, since he ran away from us. While we were tending to his cut on his tail, he twisted himself out of Franklin's hands and ran away. Three volunteers (including me) ran after him through the garden, and even with a bad leg he outran us into the jungle. Finally, he jumped through the fence, and stopped. We were all panting and looking at Encar, who told us that we will put a plate out tonight, but he was doing much better anyway. So now Quarantine Agouti is released!
Another successful release yesterday was the bird we had for about 30 minutes. Some tourists came with a bird who apparently refused to fly. We took him in, gave him some water and I left him alone for a bit, assuming he was under shock. As soon as Encar came to check on him, he started flying every where, and so he was released!
On the down side, two hungry sloths bit me yesterday. First, Stefano, our little depressed sloth, bit me out of hunger. He lost his cuddle buddy a few weeks ago, and so now needs to be cuddled and carried little a kangaroo everyday. While he was coming to me, and attached himself to my waist, I started carrying other sloths over, and surely enough my pinky was close enough for him to grab it and chump on it. Minutes later, I gave him some leaves and the biting stopped. The other bite was from Cocles, who resides with three other sloths, and they all have skin infections. They require to be treated with vinegar in the morning and baking soda at night to help with the Ph in their skin. While they hate being treated, it is important to have external treatment on top of antibiotics. Cocles managed to sneak a bite while I was taking care of Carlos, and surprisingly enough broke the skin, but not the glove I was wearing. So I bled twice that day, and both were from the sloth. Thank god I got my rabies shot.
Jess and James left the center, which means that I no longer have my daily dose of British slang. I was sad when they left as Jess and I had grown closer. We were put on Jimi duty the first day, and laundry together. I wish them well with their travel down to the South America, and hopefully I will see them in London this summer!
While the life here is very much Pura Vida, the life in the good ol' US of A still goes on. I had my first interview today with CHS. As anyone can imagine I woke up with stomach cramps from my anxiety and I went through every possible questions they could ask me. An hour before the interview, I realize I had sent out an out of date resume. I cursed myself and my inattentive tendency. I skyped my mother about what to do, and her all-knowledgeable motherly wisdom guided me through the scariest moment in my professional life. I just emailed the newest resume and an hour later had my interview. The questions were scenarios about what I would do if put in situations where my morals were challenged. I feel like I answered most of them somewhat correctly, but as anyone does, I was mauling over the wrong answers I might have given.
In order to try to get my mind off of how the interview went, I took a bus to Cahuita. The bus ride was a little more than a dollar, and I was ready to get to my bus stop. The boy behind me was playing his cell phone ringtone over and over again (which is quite common here in this area, as people dont have Ipods). I was ready to strangle him. The national park was the only thing to see in Cahuita, and the French people at the bus stop confirmed it. Cahuita used to be the hot spot in the Caribbean, but as tourism grow so does crime. Puerto Viejo is the next town over, and took over all the tourists. While on my 3 hour hike at the park, I saw some of the wildlife such as a coati, a bunch of howler monkeys (wow, so typical), a million crabs and some pretty colorful birds. It was a beautiful hike all along the coast of the Caribbean ocean, and I wish I had been able to get to the other side of the parc, but the sun was setting and my stomach was growling. As beautiful as Cahuita was, it had a feel of abandonment. I am glad to be eating my burger in Puerto Viejo, instead of there.
A tiny little baby owl came in, riddled with infections, dead skin and dirt. This little white fluff ball of feathers was starving, and gobbled down any big chuck of chicken passing his beak. Good news for us, he has an appetite. No need to force feed this one. The next day he opened his eyes, while I cleaned his beak and legs with cotton and tea. The tea acts as a moisturizer and helps get rid of the dead skin gently. His beak was looking better already, and his legs were cleaner. Encar was giving him the right antibiotics for his little infection, but while he ate a mouse's head (the mouse was cut in three), he started panting heavily. This worried both Encar and I who then spent the next two hours by his side trying to give him water, cuddle him and calm him down. After this hour, he seemed so tired and went straight to bed. I haven't been at the center today to check on him, and therefore, I am not sure how he is doing now, but my thoughts are with this new little one who is now residing in my squirrels' old cage.
While we have a nursery, we also have a quarantine area. This is the area in a corner of the garden where the sick or scared animals go to recuperate and be ready to be released. We have an agouti in there who had a bad leg. As we were giving antibiotics and trying to help him with his broken leg, he was acting like a true wild animal, and didn't warm up to us like the other agouti we have. This agouti had been attacked by a dog. His injuries were so bad that his liver was hanging outside of his body. A quick trip to San Jose, and a surgery later, he was in quarantine. Obviously, he is doing much better now, since he ran away from us. While we were tending to his cut on his tail, he twisted himself out of Franklin's hands and ran away. Three volunteers (including me) ran after him through the garden, and even with a bad leg he outran us into the jungle. Finally, he jumped through the fence, and stopped. We were all panting and looking at Encar, who told us that we will put a plate out tonight, but he was doing much better anyway. So now Quarantine Agouti is released!
Another successful release yesterday was the bird we had for about 30 minutes. Some tourists came with a bird who apparently refused to fly. We took him in, gave him some water and I left him alone for a bit, assuming he was under shock. As soon as Encar came to check on him, he started flying every where, and so he was released!
On the down side, two hungry sloths bit me yesterday. First, Stefano, our little depressed sloth, bit me out of hunger. He lost his cuddle buddy a few weeks ago, and so now needs to be cuddled and carried little a kangaroo everyday. While he was coming to me, and attached himself to my waist, I started carrying other sloths over, and surely enough my pinky was close enough for him to grab it and chump on it. Minutes later, I gave him some leaves and the biting stopped. The other bite was from Cocles, who resides with three other sloths, and they all have skin infections. They require to be treated with vinegar in the morning and baking soda at night to help with the Ph in their skin. While they hate being treated, it is important to have external treatment on top of antibiotics. Cocles managed to sneak a bite while I was taking care of Carlos, and surprisingly enough broke the skin, but not the glove I was wearing. So I bled twice that day, and both were from the sloth. Thank god I got my rabies shot.
Jess and James left the center, which means that I no longer have my daily dose of British slang. I was sad when they left as Jess and I had grown closer. We were put on Jimi duty the first day, and laundry together. I wish them well with their travel down to the South America, and hopefully I will see them in London this summer!
While the life here is very much Pura Vida, the life in the good ol' US of A still goes on. I had my first interview today with CHS. As anyone can imagine I woke up with stomach cramps from my anxiety and I went through every possible questions they could ask me. An hour before the interview, I realize I had sent out an out of date resume. I cursed myself and my inattentive tendency. I skyped my mother about what to do, and her all-knowledgeable motherly wisdom guided me through the scariest moment in my professional life. I just emailed the newest resume and an hour later had my interview. The questions were scenarios about what I would do if put in situations where my morals were challenged. I feel like I answered most of them somewhat correctly, but as anyone does, I was mauling over the wrong answers I might have given.
In order to try to get my mind off of how the interview went, I took a bus to Cahuita. The bus ride was a little more than a dollar, and I was ready to get to my bus stop. The boy behind me was playing his cell phone ringtone over and over again (which is quite common here in this area, as people dont have Ipods). I was ready to strangle him. The national park was the only thing to see in Cahuita, and the French people at the bus stop confirmed it. Cahuita used to be the hot spot in the Caribbean, but as tourism grow so does crime. Puerto Viejo is the next town over, and took over all the tourists. While on my 3 hour hike at the park, I saw some of the wildlife such as a coati, a bunch of howler monkeys (wow, so typical), a million crabs and some pretty colorful birds. It was a beautiful hike all along the coast of the Caribbean ocean, and I wish I had been able to get to the other side of the parc, but the sun was setting and my stomach was growling. As beautiful as Cahuita was, it had a feel of abandonment. I am glad to be eating my burger in Puerto Viejo, instead of there.
4/01/2013
The end of Semana Santa
I am sorry I haven't posted in awhile. The internet at the hotel was down, and since it was Semana Santa, no technician wanted to trade in their drunken holiday for a day at work. The internet was finally fixed today, and so, I jumped at the occasion to count you my tales.
Let me start you off with the bad news: the little possum and the little dove didn't make it. Through the night they both died. The rest of the animals are doing great. For that matter, the pescadora Eagle (Fisherman eagle), which Sandro had doubts about his longevity is still alive. We have to force feed him, but he is quite kicking and angry. He is truly a magnificent animal. His powerful stare twists my inside and his deadly looking claws could shred my face in a minute. If you couldn't tell, I am more terrified of an eagle than of Diavolino, who would be most likely to shred my face. For that matter, every time I walk by Diavolino's cage, you hear me act as if it was my kitten and call his name out as if he couldnt hurt me. Mind you, he comes to see me every morning and sprays his cage as to tell me to screw off, but I am sure he will learn to love me soon enough.
So for my day off, I was going to go the center for a little bit and take pictures. Nothing more, nothing less. I was ready to help out in the morning for a little bit, if they were short on volunteers. I arrived and stayed the entire day. Not only did I stay the entire day and assumed my usual duties (Feeding the baby sloths, working out with the squirrels, cleaning cages and helping out in general) but Encar surprised me with a tour. I had trained to be a tour guide, and was ready to give the tours, but I hadn't done it yet. Not only that, but the tour group was late, and the monkeys had to go to the forest to be rehabilitate into their natural habitat ASAP. Nervously walking around, I tried to distract myself with making sure all the baby sloths had leaves, all the animals are taking care of, and where I should start my tour. It wasn't until Encar came over and told me in a stern voice to walk over that I felt the knot in my stomach. She took me by the shoulder and started shaking me while going "Calm down. You are too nervous. You will do fine, you represent the center well, and if you don't then you won't do tours again." I remember my exercises and try to let my muscles relax, or at least my arm muscles. Encar smiled at me and reminded me that I wasn't tied to this responsibility in no way shape or form. I could stop tour guiding at any moment. The group showed up, and it was merely 12 people, looking at me. 12 older people who just wanted to enjoy the tour. I started the tour, my voice was shaking and I could feel how nervous I was. It wasn't until we got to the monkey enclosure that I started to relax. I started to realize then that those people knew nothing, and that I was in a position of power. Not that it sounds healthy but I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the tour. I made a few jokes, I got a few laughter and I was glad it was over. I didn't feel like it was fair to ask for tips, mainly because it was my first tour and I hadn't given 115% to them. I had been nervous and unsure of myself. Even though, those people enjoyed themselves and the animals, it wasn't my best work. They left with some book marks and each thanked me. Once they were gone, my muscles had finally relaxed, and the aching was starting. My neck felt like I had shaken my head for the last hour and half and my jaw felt like I had chewed gum for the last hour and a half. I sat down in a chair and Sandro came over to congratulate me with a smile and open arms, Italian style. The man makes me giggle. I have seen him throw tantrums at people, and yet, he has made me smile more times than others. He saluted me the other day and told me I was the "jefe" (Chief) for the day. All the while, I had lost our prankster tucan, Tuki Tuki- who was hiding up on his cage and was expecting a good reprimand.
Today, my second group went quite well and even raved about me to Encar, which gave me all the confidence in the world to keep on doing this. My third group was a school group, aged 13-14. This one was right up my alley. Thank you teaching certification, Thank you years at Travel for Teens. the group in total was 40, and so Franzie and I split them up and each took 20. I have to say, I must have had the good group, as Franzie was telling me how disrespectful they were towards her, and how loud they were being during the tour. My group was mostly interested in pictures and in the animals. They were excited to see everything and anything. Even the frogs' eggs (which are actually pretty cool). They were able to recite to me the differences between a two-toe sloth and a three-toe sloth. They were respectful in the monkey enclosure, holding carefully the little sleepy ones.
I did ask for tips for my second group, and I was tipped enough to be able to eat dinner comfortably today. The school group wasn't a group to tip and so I didn't ask. All together, it was a good day for tours, and all my babies stayed healthy and are growing in their own way. Tyson and Dante (my two baby two-toe sloths) are more independent every day, "running" towards India (our old rescue sloth who was released) who then bites them to leave her alone. They still have quite a lot to learn, but a learning baby is a healthy baby.
Before I end this post, I wanted to remind everyone of the photo project that Anna was working on. Remember, I went on my free day and helped out take picture of her taking pictures...? Well, she had to go home a bit early to care for her sickly husband, but in the mean time, it means she has worked on some of the pictures. Here is her facebook page if you want to see some professional pictures of the animals - don't forget to like it! She also has a photo blog, so don't forget to check that out too!
Anyway, I must go now, as I jumped into the ocean today and I have become a block of black sand and salt.
Let me start you off with the bad news: the little possum and the little dove didn't make it. Through the night they both died. The rest of the animals are doing great. For that matter, the pescadora Eagle (Fisherman eagle), which Sandro had doubts about his longevity is still alive. We have to force feed him, but he is quite kicking and angry. He is truly a magnificent animal. His powerful stare twists my inside and his deadly looking claws could shred my face in a minute. If you couldn't tell, I am more terrified of an eagle than of Diavolino, who would be most likely to shred my face. For that matter, every time I walk by Diavolino's cage, you hear me act as if it was my kitten and call his name out as if he couldnt hurt me. Mind you, he comes to see me every morning and sprays his cage as to tell me to screw off, but I am sure he will learn to love me soon enough.
So for my day off, I was going to go the center for a little bit and take pictures. Nothing more, nothing less. I was ready to help out in the morning for a little bit, if they were short on volunteers. I arrived and stayed the entire day. Not only did I stay the entire day and assumed my usual duties (Feeding the baby sloths, working out with the squirrels, cleaning cages and helping out in general) but Encar surprised me with a tour. I had trained to be a tour guide, and was ready to give the tours, but I hadn't done it yet. Not only that, but the tour group was late, and the monkeys had to go to the forest to be rehabilitate into their natural habitat ASAP. Nervously walking around, I tried to distract myself with making sure all the baby sloths had leaves, all the animals are taking care of, and where I should start my tour. It wasn't until Encar came over and told me in a stern voice to walk over that I felt the knot in my stomach. She took me by the shoulder and started shaking me while going "Calm down. You are too nervous. You will do fine, you represent the center well, and if you don't then you won't do tours again." I remember my exercises and try to let my muscles relax, or at least my arm muscles. Encar smiled at me and reminded me that I wasn't tied to this responsibility in no way shape or form. I could stop tour guiding at any moment. The group showed up, and it was merely 12 people, looking at me. 12 older people who just wanted to enjoy the tour. I started the tour, my voice was shaking and I could feel how nervous I was. It wasn't until we got to the monkey enclosure that I started to relax. I started to realize then that those people knew nothing, and that I was in a position of power. Not that it sounds healthy but I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the tour. I made a few jokes, I got a few laughter and I was glad it was over. I didn't feel like it was fair to ask for tips, mainly because it was my first tour and I hadn't given 115% to them. I had been nervous and unsure of myself. Even though, those people enjoyed themselves and the animals, it wasn't my best work. They left with some book marks and each thanked me. Once they were gone, my muscles had finally relaxed, and the aching was starting. My neck felt like I had shaken my head for the last hour and half and my jaw felt like I had chewed gum for the last hour and a half. I sat down in a chair and Sandro came over to congratulate me with a smile and open arms, Italian style. The man makes me giggle. I have seen him throw tantrums at people, and yet, he has made me smile more times than others. He saluted me the other day and told me I was the "jefe" (Chief) for the day. All the while, I had lost our prankster tucan, Tuki Tuki- who was hiding up on his cage and was expecting a good reprimand.
Today, my second group went quite well and even raved about me to Encar, which gave me all the confidence in the world to keep on doing this. My third group was a school group, aged 13-14. This one was right up my alley. Thank you teaching certification, Thank you years at Travel for Teens. the group in total was 40, and so Franzie and I split them up and each took 20. I have to say, I must have had the good group, as Franzie was telling me how disrespectful they were towards her, and how loud they were being during the tour. My group was mostly interested in pictures and in the animals. They were excited to see everything and anything. Even the frogs' eggs (which are actually pretty cool). They were able to recite to me the differences between a two-toe sloth and a three-toe sloth. They were respectful in the monkey enclosure, holding carefully the little sleepy ones.
I did ask for tips for my second group, and I was tipped enough to be able to eat dinner comfortably today. The school group wasn't a group to tip and so I didn't ask. All together, it was a good day for tours, and all my babies stayed healthy and are growing in their own way. Tyson and Dante (my two baby two-toe sloths) are more independent every day, "running" towards India (our old rescue sloth who was released) who then bites them to leave her alone. They still have quite a lot to learn, but a learning baby is a healthy baby.
Before I end this post, I wanted to remind everyone of the photo project that Anna was working on. Remember, I went on my free day and helped out take picture of her taking pictures...? Well, she had to go home a bit early to care for her sickly husband, but in the mean time, it means she has worked on some of the pictures. Here is her facebook page if you want to see some professional pictures of the animals - don't forget to like it! She also has a photo blog, so don't forget to check that out too!
Anyway, I must go now, as I jumped into the ocean today and I have become a block of black sand and salt.
3/28/2013
Semana Santa
I have been gone from the refuge for two days. TWO days. While I was away, so much as changed already. First, the squirrels no longer need syringe feeding. Second, the baby birds are doing great, and starting to eat on their own. Third, someone brought in a two-day-old baby possum. Fourth, someone tricked us into getting a less-than-a-week-old kitten.
Now, it seems almost impossible to trick someone into getting a kitten, unless you work at a shelter. The man who brought the kitten in, told Encar on the phone that it was a very rare animal, that looked like a kitten but with a prehensile tail. The moment it arrived, Encar evaluated it, and sure enough it was a kitten. I came in this morning, and reaffirmed this conclusion, and as of now, I am the most knowledgeable on this rare Costa Rican animal. As my many years of taking care of little baby furballs will come in handy, we need to find it a home and trust me, Encar is planning on getting it castrated (as she calls it).
The baby possum is Jess and James' favorite animal so far. It looks like a naked mole rat, and refuses to eat until there is about .2 cL of milk left in its syringe (out of the .5 cL). I can't wait until it grows bigger and can eat on its own, because having this tiny little pink thing in your hand is terrifying. I am giant compared to it, and the force in my hand is enough to suffocate it if I am not careful. The little thing is lucky that I have anxiety which makes me extra careful with little baby ones. Also, if anyone didn't know, you need to stimulate peeing in a possum like you do with kittens. So I was shaking two animals' junks today to make them pee.
Love my job in the nursery.
We also had an injured iguana (which was named Furtado, after Nelly, Colton's pet beard dragon). His tail, its deadliest weapon, was cut off at the end, and his legs weren't responsive at the evaluation. Franklin, the governmental biologist who must review the refuge, theorized that he must have lost a fight to another animal, but that iguanas are very strong and after a few days in quarantine, if he regains the function of his legs, he will be able to be rehabilitated.
But what brings you up, can also bring you down. We received a little baby monkey, barely a week old with 90% burns all over its tiny body. It's my guess that the burns are old, as the skin looked like jerky at this point and skin had already flaked off. The best theory we could come up with is, unfortunately, a common one here in Costa Rica. The mother must have been electrocuted by an un-coated electrical line. The baby survived only because it received the shock through the mother, but it was in obvious pain. Encar and I had a little bit of hope as it was moving around, and holding on to the blanket. As soon as we gave it pain medication, we both knew that he was going to be a goner. His little eyes were struggling to stay open, and he wouldn't drink the milk. Encar and I both fell quiet and we knew what had to be done. With 90% of burns on its body, the University of San Jose didn't want to treat him, and with the facilities here, it would certainly get an infection. As I hummed "Hey Jude" by The Beatles to the tiny baby in my arms, he fell asleep. When I felt that his body had gone limp I put him on the table and Encar waited with her hand on his forehead until he was really gone. It was a silent and tough moment, as we had the kitten crying and Stefano (the sloth who lost his cuddle buddy a week ago) crying. Neither of us were in the mood to respond to those cries. Thankfully, Gisella came to the rescue with the kitten and took it for the entire day- after I taught her how to get him to pee, poo and to fed him.
While the center was struggling with the new arrivals, the people from all over central American are flooding in Puerto Viejo for Semana Santa (Holy week). The tourists are nice as they bring business to the locals, but they also bring crimes. I received an email from the US Embassy about armed robberies happened around town and areas surrounding town. Not only that, but my friends' house was broken into and everything they owned was stolen. 3000$ worth of camera equipement, their laptop and 3 months of work. It is things like this that reminds me how balanced the world is. I have met some of the most wonderful people out here, and some of the most frustrating people as well. The tourists have left trash on the beach, which I pick up while muttering in Spanish "Los hijos de puta, no es dificil a usar una basura." It is really not hard to use a trash. Lazy people frustrate me. People who only want the good frustrate me. The only positive thing from the tourists has been the increase in Policia Turistica around dangerous areas and the presence of Cruz Rojo (red cross) around the beach. Yet, even with this heightened security, one can't help but want things to go back to normal, without the terrible traffic, or the trash, or the belligerence drunk tourists. I think I am ready for Easter to be over, and Puerto Viejo to regain its charming little town feeling, where people are kind and people know each other.
Now, it seems almost impossible to trick someone into getting a kitten, unless you work at a shelter. The man who brought the kitten in, told Encar on the phone that it was a very rare animal, that looked like a kitten but with a prehensile tail. The moment it arrived, Encar evaluated it, and sure enough it was a kitten. I came in this morning, and reaffirmed this conclusion, and as of now, I am the most knowledgeable on this rare Costa Rican animal. As my many years of taking care of little baby furballs will come in handy, we need to find it a home and trust me, Encar is planning on getting it castrated (as she calls it).
The baby possum is Jess and James' favorite animal so far. It looks like a naked mole rat, and refuses to eat until there is about .2 cL of milk left in its syringe (out of the .5 cL). I can't wait until it grows bigger and can eat on its own, because having this tiny little pink thing in your hand is terrifying. I am giant compared to it, and the force in my hand is enough to suffocate it if I am not careful. The little thing is lucky that I have anxiety which makes me extra careful with little baby ones. Also, if anyone didn't know, you need to stimulate peeing in a possum like you do with kittens. So I was shaking two animals' junks today to make them pee.
Love my job in the nursery.
We also had an injured iguana (which was named Furtado, after Nelly, Colton's pet beard dragon). His tail, its deadliest weapon, was cut off at the end, and his legs weren't responsive at the evaluation. Franklin, the governmental biologist who must review the refuge, theorized that he must have lost a fight to another animal, but that iguanas are very strong and after a few days in quarantine, if he regains the function of his legs, he will be able to be rehabilitated.
But what brings you up, can also bring you down. We received a little baby monkey, barely a week old with 90% burns all over its tiny body. It's my guess that the burns are old, as the skin looked like jerky at this point and skin had already flaked off. The best theory we could come up with is, unfortunately, a common one here in Costa Rica. The mother must have been electrocuted by an un-coated electrical line. The baby survived only because it received the shock through the mother, but it was in obvious pain. Encar and I had a little bit of hope as it was moving around, and holding on to the blanket. As soon as we gave it pain medication, we both knew that he was going to be a goner. His little eyes were struggling to stay open, and he wouldn't drink the milk. Encar and I both fell quiet and we knew what had to be done. With 90% of burns on its body, the University of San Jose didn't want to treat him, and with the facilities here, it would certainly get an infection. As I hummed "Hey Jude" by The Beatles to the tiny baby in my arms, he fell asleep. When I felt that his body had gone limp I put him on the table and Encar waited with her hand on his forehead until he was really gone. It was a silent and tough moment, as we had the kitten crying and Stefano (the sloth who lost his cuddle buddy a week ago) crying. Neither of us were in the mood to respond to those cries. Thankfully, Gisella came to the rescue with the kitten and took it for the entire day- after I taught her how to get him to pee, poo and to fed him.
While the center was struggling with the new arrivals, the people from all over central American are flooding in Puerto Viejo for Semana Santa (Holy week). The tourists are nice as they bring business to the locals, but they also bring crimes. I received an email from the US Embassy about armed robberies happened around town and areas surrounding town. Not only that, but my friends' house was broken into and everything they owned was stolen. 3000$ worth of camera equipement, their laptop and 3 months of work. It is things like this that reminds me how balanced the world is. I have met some of the most wonderful people out here, and some of the most frustrating people as well. The tourists have left trash on the beach, which I pick up while muttering in Spanish "Los hijos de puta, no es dificil a usar una basura." It is really not hard to use a trash. Lazy people frustrate me. People who only want the good frustrate me. The only positive thing from the tourists has been the increase in Policia Turistica around dangerous areas and the presence of Cruz Rojo (red cross) around the beach. Yet, even with this heightened security, one can't help but want things to go back to normal, without the terrible traffic, or the trash, or the belligerence drunk tourists. I think I am ready for Easter to be over, and Puerto Viejo to regain its charming little town feeling, where people are kind and people know each other.
3/27/2013
Food poisoning and baby sloths
I keep on saying how unexciting my life is at this point, and how routine things have become, yet I keep on having interesting events happen to me.
This blog post will be short and sweet. I have been at home sick for the last two days, trying to get over food poisoning. While I was dying in my bed, and my fever was on a rollercoaster between 99.5F and 100.8F, the center kept on running fine, and one of my friends left for Holland. I traded her good bye party for puking in a toilet.
So now, when I go back tomorrow, I will be alone in the nursery with Encar, which means, I get to take care of the baby sloths, and feed the baby birds/ squirrels. It's very exciting for me, as the last time I bottle fed a baby animal over a year ago, and a kitten.
I haven't had a chance to truly experience the bottle fedding as I have been dealing with puking, stomach cramps and fever, all the way up until today. All the while finishing up seasons of Mad Men, Archer and It's always sunny.
Two nights ago, I decided it was a good idea to change up my diet a bit and go eat Chinese food. As someone mentioned "Chinese food in Costa Rica... riiight." Yes. It was delicious, all the way up until 4 AM when I puked it all back up. Luckily, the next day was my day off, and I could enjoy my cozy bed, my fan and the proximity to the bathroom. As I kept taking my temperature every once in awhile, I noticed that after long hours of napping, my fever was on the high end, while after being awake, it went down. Unfortunately, my naps were unpredictable and delirious. I drank about 4 bottles of water and a powerade, and I finally felt that I needed to eat some food. I went downstairs, where the whole staff had been informed of my condition, and they had mashed potatoes ready for me. I sat miserable at the restaurant, where the bartender (Katya) had prepared a special cocktail (Lemon, salt and club soda) to revive my spirit. After eating a bit of mashed potatoes, I was full, and tired. Even though, they had switched the futbol game to Spain VS France for me, and I truly wanted to watch it, I felt as if I was about to fell asleep. I paid for my meal, and made some sort of agreement on price (I am not sure what happened, but there wasnt enough change) and went upstairs to finish sleeping. I kept my food down, slept for a good 13 hours and today I feel so much better!
The tad bit I didn't mention was that after dinner, I had locked my bike and forgotten my keys. I was dragging my bike back to the hotel when a man by the supermarket stopped me and asked what happened. I giggled and embarrassed told him that I had forgotten my keys. He dragged my bike behind someone's car (who left half way through the whole procedure) and started beating the chain with two rocks. Within five minutes he had broken the lock and requested 2$ from me. I gave him 2$ and, bewildered, rode my bike home with the broken lock in my hand. Food poisoning must have kicked in because I didn't react to him breaking my lock as much as I was glad I could get to bed faster.
This blog post will be short and sweet. I have been at home sick for the last two days, trying to get over food poisoning. While I was dying in my bed, and my fever was on a rollercoaster between 99.5F and 100.8F, the center kept on running fine, and one of my friends left for Holland. I traded her good bye party for puking in a toilet.
So now, when I go back tomorrow, I will be alone in the nursery with Encar, which means, I get to take care of the baby sloths, and feed the baby birds/ squirrels. It's very exciting for me, as the last time I bottle fed a baby animal over a year ago, and a kitten.
I haven't had a chance to truly experience the bottle fedding as I have been dealing with puking, stomach cramps and fever, all the way up until today. All the while finishing up seasons of Mad Men, Archer and It's always sunny.
Two nights ago, I decided it was a good idea to change up my diet a bit and go eat Chinese food. As someone mentioned "Chinese food in Costa Rica... riiight." Yes. It was delicious, all the way up until 4 AM when I puked it all back up. Luckily, the next day was my day off, and I could enjoy my cozy bed, my fan and the proximity to the bathroom. As I kept taking my temperature every once in awhile, I noticed that after long hours of napping, my fever was on the high end, while after being awake, it went down. Unfortunately, my naps were unpredictable and delirious. I drank about 4 bottles of water and a powerade, and I finally felt that I needed to eat some food. I went downstairs, where the whole staff had been informed of my condition, and they had mashed potatoes ready for me. I sat miserable at the restaurant, where the bartender (Katya) had prepared a special cocktail (Lemon, salt and club soda) to revive my spirit. After eating a bit of mashed potatoes, I was full, and tired. Even though, they had switched the futbol game to Spain VS France for me, and I truly wanted to watch it, I felt as if I was about to fell asleep. I paid for my meal, and made some sort of agreement on price (I am not sure what happened, but there wasnt enough change) and went upstairs to finish sleeping. I kept my food down, slept for a good 13 hours and today I feel so much better!
The tad bit I didn't mention was that after dinner, I had locked my bike and forgotten my keys. I was dragging my bike back to the hotel when a man by the supermarket stopped me and asked what happened. I giggled and embarrassed told him that I had forgotten my keys. He dragged my bike behind someone's car (who left half way through the whole procedure) and started beating the chain with two rocks. Within five minutes he had broken the lock and requested 2$ from me. I gave him 2$ and, bewildered, rode my bike home with the broken lock in my hand. Food poisoning must have kicked in because I didn't react to him breaking my lock as much as I was glad I could get to bed faster.
After all that, I got sick, so I haven't needed to ride my bike yet. Tomorrow will be the true test if I need a lock, or if someone will steal my Jamaican prize. In the mean time, enjoy this video of our two newest baby sloths that have to be fed every three hours (This is Encar feeding them, as I havent been trained to feed those delicate creatures):
3/21/2013
GerGlish- the official language of Puerto Viejo
As I mentioned before, my days are now boring to write about. It is mostly monkey feeding, sloth watching and the occasional fight with a toucan. Life can be so tough.
In reality, I am suffering second degree burn from the hot Costa Rican sun. I am known to be a bit of a drama queen when I want to be. This is no drama. I had blisters on my chest, and my face has been peeling. For the last two days, I've been hearing "Tomo el sol, eh?", "Oh man, you were at the beach, uh?" and "Didn't you put sunscreen on?".
My dear white friends, the sun discriminates against us. I did put sunscreen on, every 30 mns. It was the walk into town that caused me this pain. I have been branded as the white girl from Philadelphia at the refuge, and, at the hotel. Anyway, today my shoulder has started to peel so now I am three different colors: brown, red and back to white. It is a vicious circle that will happen for the next month until my body learns. If it is nearly as stubborn as I am, we are in for a long adventure.
The sunburns prevented me from going surfing yesterday. As the salt water burns my skin, the sun creates an either bigger problem. I didn't feel like standing in 98F temperature with a beautiful clear sky while I am trying my best not to struggle on a board, or drinking salt water. Therefore, the lessons are being postponed once more. It will be done though, some day.
I did go to the center, even on my day off, as I wanted to take some pictures for the people back home. I have been a fantastic blog writer, and a terrible photographer. I need to balance out my responsibilities a bit. I went out there to see that one of our volunteers was ready to give the animals a professional photo shot, and as the unprofessional photographer, I helped her out by taking back stage pictures of her working. The amount of work that goes into taking a picture of a sloth is intense. Adrian, her temporary assistant, was sweating as he was readjusting lights after lights as the sloth was moving around. After a few pictures, I had to go home to deal with some American paperwork.
By American paperwork, I mean that my mother had gotten a letter from the Chester county court system. Obviously, she just told me it said Chester county court system, and so I grabbed my bike and started pedaling frantically, trying to go through each parking ticket I had received in the last year, each speeding ticket and each red light violation. Needless to say, the 20 minutes bike ride home was not enough to think of all of my violations, but I couldn't think of one that I hadn't dealt with before leaving. Once I got on skype and demanded for her to open the letter. It turned out I was being summoned for Jury Duty.
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding me.
America, come on. Use your military gadgets to google my passport number and see that I am away instead of randomly sending letters and wasting everyone's time. Even just peer into my facebook page and see that I am not in the country. Anyway, I had to explain why going to jury duty would be a hardship and write them a personal letter explaining that I will not be able to attend. When it comes down to authorities screwing something up, I can't help but be a witty little asshole to them in my letters. It was a short and sweet paragraph that created arguments between my mother and I (as she has to send it.)
This was the letter my mother and I compromised on. If it was left to me, it would be a five pages story of my life and as to why I would not be able to attend. Looking back at it, I should have included my blog for further proof. Next time. Next time.
After the surprise the United States sent me, I also received more frontline through the mail. Two weeks late, but hey, better than nothing right? I was hoping for some chocolate or candy, but if I ever need some flea treatment I have enough for a year.
As soon as I was done taking care of my American problems, I started looking for lunch. It was 3pm at this point, and my stomach was growling angrily. I had made it a mission to find this little bakery called "Bread and chocolate" or "Pan y chocolate", I hadn't been able to figure out if the sign will be in English or Spanish -- and it was in both. Lucky me.
As promised by the guidebook, there was no real address here, and directions were like "In front of the baptist church." Finding anything in this small town required patience and an observant eye. Because I have both, I found it. My stomach helped me find it and I chose the grilled cheese sandwich in about 5 mns of my arrival. I wrote my postcards, and I scarfed down the delicious cheese sandwich. I love the rice and bean combination here, but Costa Rica needs to up their game when it comes down to food. Other than the homemade chocolates and seafood, the cuisine is rather limited. Ten minutes after finishing my grilled cheese, I got a text message from one of the German volunteers. Most of the volunteers stay in Playa Chiquita or Cocles, and when they come "downtown" AKA Puerto viejo, they text me to hang out. They went shopping and then we stopped for dinner at Monli, which overlooked the sun setting on the Caribbean ocean.
We were talking about how many Germans there were in Puerto Viejo when one of their old friend walks in, hammered as a Russian during the winter. I introduced myself, and knowing five words in German, started to speak English. Julia and Isa's English was incredible, but Wolfgang's (the new German welcomes into our group) was very poor.
The only comprehensible sentence of the night was "You don't need ketchup with good music". Between my poor German, and his poor English we still managed to have a two hour long conversations. I learned that if you want someone to finish their drinks in Germany, you must go "X, X, X, X" and it encourages them to drink. I learned that the word for Discotheque is pretty much the same in every language and that a drunk German from Munich will speak a different German from a drunk German from Berlin.
After a night out of international fun, it was time to head back to the hotel. This time, I hadn't brought my bike, and it was already dark out. I had brought my little knife with me, which I carried open and in sight of anyone driving past. It wasn't until I saw the police near my hotel, that I breathed easily and could put my knife away. I am not much for taknig risks, and this is still a dangerous country, no matter how much of a paradise it feels like. The police's presence was a very clear reminder that, as they search every car driving into Puerto Viejo, there ares bad guys out there who will not hesitant to ruin your vacations. No matter if you speak German, English or Spanish.
In reality, I am suffering second degree burn from the hot Costa Rican sun. I am known to be a bit of a drama queen when I want to be. This is no drama. I had blisters on my chest, and my face has been peeling. For the last two days, I've been hearing "Tomo el sol, eh?", "Oh man, you were at the beach, uh?" and "Didn't you put sunscreen on?".
My dear white friends, the sun discriminates against us. I did put sunscreen on, every 30 mns. It was the walk into town that caused me this pain. I have been branded as the white girl from Philadelphia at the refuge, and, at the hotel. Anyway, today my shoulder has started to peel so now I am three different colors: brown, red and back to white. It is a vicious circle that will happen for the next month until my body learns. If it is nearly as stubborn as I am, we are in for a long adventure.
The sunburns prevented me from going surfing yesterday. As the salt water burns my skin, the sun creates an either bigger problem. I didn't feel like standing in 98F temperature with a beautiful clear sky while I am trying my best not to struggle on a board, or drinking salt water. Therefore, the lessons are being postponed once more. It will be done though, some day.
I did go to the center, even on my day off, as I wanted to take some pictures for the people back home. I have been a fantastic blog writer, and a terrible photographer. I need to balance out my responsibilities a bit. I went out there to see that one of our volunteers was ready to give the animals a professional photo shot, and as the unprofessional photographer, I helped her out by taking back stage pictures of her working. The amount of work that goes into taking a picture of a sloth is intense. Adrian, her temporary assistant, was sweating as he was readjusting lights after lights as the sloth was moving around. After a few pictures, I had to go home to deal with some American paperwork.
By American paperwork, I mean that my mother had gotten a letter from the Chester county court system. Obviously, she just told me it said Chester county court system, and so I grabbed my bike and started pedaling frantically, trying to go through each parking ticket I had received in the last year, each speeding ticket and each red light violation. Needless to say, the 20 minutes bike ride home was not enough to think of all of my violations, but I couldn't think of one that I hadn't dealt with before leaving. Once I got on skype and demanded for her to open the letter. It turned out I was being summoned for Jury Duty.
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding me.
America, come on. Use your military gadgets to google my passport number and see that I am away instead of randomly sending letters and wasting everyone's time. Even just peer into my facebook page and see that I am not in the country. Anyway, I had to explain why going to jury duty would be a hardship and write them a personal letter explaining that I will not be able to attend. When it comes down to authorities screwing something up, I can't help but be a witty little asshole to them in my letters. It was a short and sweet paragraph that created arguments between my mother and I (as she has to send it.)
Dear Jury Commissioner,
My name is Ally V, and my annual number is : ---- and my panel number: ---. I would like to inform you I will not be able to attend jury duty on the selected dates (April 22nd and 23rd). The reason for this inconvenience is that I am currently residing in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica to perform some community service at a wildlife refuge center. Unfortunately, those dates fall right during my stay (March 6th- May 2nd) and I cannot fly back before May 2nd. My tickets are booked, and my hours are prefixed. I am deeply sorry that I cannot perform my duty as a citizen as I am volunteering in Costa Rica for two months.In the meantime, I regretfully request to be excused from this privilege of jury duty.Sincerely,Ally V
This was the letter my mother and I compromised on. If it was left to me, it would be a five pages story of my life and as to why I would not be able to attend. Looking back at it, I should have included my blog for further proof. Next time. Next time.
After the surprise the United States sent me, I also received more frontline through the mail. Two weeks late, but hey, better than nothing right? I was hoping for some chocolate or candy, but if I ever need some flea treatment I have enough for a year.
As soon as I was done taking care of my American problems, I started looking for lunch. It was 3pm at this point, and my stomach was growling angrily. I had made it a mission to find this little bakery called "Bread and chocolate" or "Pan y chocolate", I hadn't been able to figure out if the sign will be in English or Spanish -- and it was in both. Lucky me.
As promised by the guidebook, there was no real address here, and directions were like "In front of the baptist church." Finding anything in this small town required patience and an observant eye. Because I have both, I found it. My stomach helped me find it and I chose the grilled cheese sandwich in about 5 mns of my arrival. I wrote my postcards, and I scarfed down the delicious cheese sandwich. I love the rice and bean combination here, but Costa Rica needs to up their game when it comes down to food. Other than the homemade chocolates and seafood, the cuisine is rather limited. Ten minutes after finishing my grilled cheese, I got a text message from one of the German volunteers. Most of the volunteers stay in Playa Chiquita or Cocles, and when they come "downtown" AKA Puerto viejo, they text me to hang out. They went shopping and then we stopped for dinner at Monli, which overlooked the sun setting on the Caribbean ocean.
We were talking about how many Germans there were in Puerto Viejo when one of their old friend walks in, hammered as a Russian during the winter. I introduced myself, and knowing five words in German, started to speak English. Julia and Isa's English was incredible, but Wolfgang's (the new German welcomes into our group) was very poor.
The only comprehensible sentence of the night was "You don't need ketchup with good music". Between my poor German, and his poor English we still managed to have a two hour long conversations. I learned that if you want someone to finish their drinks in Germany, you must go "X, X, X, X" and it encourages them to drink. I learned that the word for Discotheque is pretty much the same in every language and that a drunk German from Munich will speak a different German from a drunk German from Berlin.
After a night out of international fun, it was time to head back to the hotel. This time, I hadn't brought my bike, and it was already dark out. I had brought my little knife with me, which I carried open and in sight of anyone driving past. It wasn't until I saw the police near my hotel, that I breathed easily and could put my knife away. I am not much for taknig risks, and this is still a dangerous country, no matter how much of a paradise it feels like. The police's presence was a very clear reminder that, as they search every car driving into Puerto Viejo, there ares bad guys out there who will not hesitant to ruin your vacations. No matter if you speak German, English or Spanish.
3/17/2013
St Paddy's day Costa Rican style
I have left everyone in the dark for a few days. My days are becoming more and more routine, and therefore less and less exciting for everyone.
I wake up, ride my bike to the center, do some manual labor and then get to hold some sloths. While I patiently wait for my day off. Friday was my day off, and I was suppose to set up some awesome surfing lessons with this guy who could teach you within two hours. I couldn't find him and set up a lesson with Willy. I just walked on the beach and he was there ready to teach. I didn't have a bathing suit, and therefore, couldn't really start right away. I went back to the hotel and asked about surfing lessons, and hold and behold, they knew the guy I had been searching for.
Sorry Willy, I'm going with magical surf teacher. So Wednesday is my first lesson. I am not looking forward to the physical strain, but I am sure in the end, I will appreciate pushing myself out of my boundaries.
In the meantime, today is Saint Paddy's day, and it is celebrated here in Puerto Viejo as well. The local dealers are wearing green attire, and going around joyously proposing their newest shipment to everyone.
I started my St Paddy's day with a good two hours on the black sand of Playa Negra. Needless to say, the sun in Costa Rica is strong. You feel it the moment you go out. I braved going out, with a ton of sunscreen on. Yet, the fifteen minutes into town and out of town got me a nobel prize winner for sunburns. Someone commented that I got some weird sunburns going on. Mainly because only half of my face is badly sunburns and my swimsuit gave me sleepy boobs (My sunburns are straight across, so any low cut shirt I wear reveal the white of my cleavage and the red of my boobs). The amount of Biafine (cream for burns) has helped for about 30 mns, and then I go back to the itching and burning sensations where my skin was not covered. I am not looking towards tonight, as I have to lay in bed trying to catch sleep in my uncomfortable self.
The burns were somewhat worth it, as we (Natalie and I) stopped at the best seafood in town. Fresh as can be. They supply the whole town with fresh fish. Sure enough, I had the ceviche of mixed seafood, which includes tuna, octopus, shrimp and seabass, all cooked in a lemon sauce. It was the best lunch a girl could ask for. We only stumbled upon it when we tried to eat at Lazy Mon (where I tried to go to an open mic that ended up terribly wrong). Juan, the rake man, told us Lazy mon was closed until 1 pm, but we should go across the street for the best seafood in town. Juan, who looked homeless, had never been more right. Nowhere have I had fresher seafood and Mango drink.
Later, after a nice cold shower to cool down my sunburns, we went to The Point, an american bar/restaurant, for St Paddy's day they were having a free pig roast. Natalie and I went and found seats immediately, and within minutes a couple needed more seats and asked us to share our table. We obviously agreed as we are both friendly people. We quickly learned that their motive to be in Costa Rica wasn't originally vacation, but dental work. In the US, they were told they would need about 20,000$ worth of dental work, while once they arrived in San Jose and were recommended to a good dentist, they only needed 7000$. The difference makes up for the 400$ flight over. The couple was incredibly nice and a good time to have around. We shared travel stories, and they told us how they met. They both had been married once, and boasted about first marriage being practice marriages. The man, Alexander, was explaining to us how he got Judy, his girlfriend. The bickering over the proper story was cute and overwhelming, but it reminded me that there was no rush into a relationship. Of all the people I had met so far, only the 18 year-old was in a relationship, and I had been in such relationship at that age. It was a friendly reminder from fate that, dude, there is no hurry. You meet the right person at any point in your life. Make the best of your life no matter if you are single, together, or kind of together. As long as there is no drama, enjoying life can be quite easy with another person.
It is hard to keep true to the no-drama part of life.
And those are the naive observations from a 22 year old girl.
Ciao amigos.
Thanks for readin'!
I wake up, ride my bike to the center, do some manual labor and then get to hold some sloths. While I patiently wait for my day off. Friday was my day off, and I was suppose to set up some awesome surfing lessons with this guy who could teach you within two hours. I couldn't find him and set up a lesson with Willy. I just walked on the beach and he was there ready to teach. I didn't have a bathing suit, and therefore, couldn't really start right away. I went back to the hotel and asked about surfing lessons, and hold and behold, they knew the guy I had been searching for.
Sorry Willy, I'm going with magical surf teacher. So Wednesday is my first lesson. I am not looking forward to the physical strain, but I am sure in the end, I will appreciate pushing myself out of my boundaries.
In the meantime, today is Saint Paddy's day, and it is celebrated here in Puerto Viejo as well. The local dealers are wearing green attire, and going around joyously proposing their newest shipment to everyone.
I started my St Paddy's day with a good two hours on the black sand of Playa Negra. Needless to say, the sun in Costa Rica is strong. You feel it the moment you go out. I braved going out, with a ton of sunscreen on. Yet, the fifteen minutes into town and out of town got me a nobel prize winner for sunburns. Someone commented that I got some weird sunburns going on. Mainly because only half of my face is badly sunburns and my swimsuit gave me sleepy boobs (My sunburns are straight across, so any low cut shirt I wear reveal the white of my cleavage and the red of my boobs). The amount of Biafine (cream for burns) has helped for about 30 mns, and then I go back to the itching and burning sensations where my skin was not covered. I am not looking towards tonight, as I have to lay in bed trying to catch sleep in my uncomfortable self.
The burns were somewhat worth it, as we (Natalie and I) stopped at the best seafood in town. Fresh as can be. They supply the whole town with fresh fish. Sure enough, I had the ceviche of mixed seafood, which includes tuna, octopus, shrimp and seabass, all cooked in a lemon sauce. It was the best lunch a girl could ask for. We only stumbled upon it when we tried to eat at Lazy Mon (where I tried to go to an open mic that ended up terribly wrong). Juan, the rake man, told us Lazy mon was closed until 1 pm, but we should go across the street for the best seafood in town. Juan, who looked homeless, had never been more right. Nowhere have I had fresher seafood and Mango drink.
Later, after a nice cold shower to cool down my sunburns, we went to The Point, an american bar/restaurant, for St Paddy's day they were having a free pig roast. Natalie and I went and found seats immediately, and within minutes a couple needed more seats and asked us to share our table. We obviously agreed as we are both friendly people. We quickly learned that their motive to be in Costa Rica wasn't originally vacation, but dental work. In the US, they were told they would need about 20,000$ worth of dental work, while once they arrived in San Jose and were recommended to a good dentist, they only needed 7000$. The difference makes up for the 400$ flight over. The couple was incredibly nice and a good time to have around. We shared travel stories, and they told us how they met. They both had been married once, and boasted about first marriage being practice marriages. The man, Alexander, was explaining to us how he got Judy, his girlfriend. The bickering over the proper story was cute and overwhelming, but it reminded me that there was no rush into a relationship. Of all the people I had met so far, only the 18 year-old was in a relationship, and I had been in such relationship at that age. It was a friendly reminder from fate that, dude, there is no hurry. You meet the right person at any point in your life. Make the best of your life no matter if you are single, together, or kind of together. As long as there is no drama, enjoying life can be quite easy with another person.
It is hard to keep true to the no-drama part of life.
And those are the naive observations from a 22 year old girl.
Ciao amigos.
Thanks for readin'!
3/14/2013
Day whatever, we are on tico time
It is been a few days since I last posted, and I wanted to let you know that 1) I am alive and 2) I have not forgotten about you.
For that matter, I have lived life to the almost fullest. The refuge center has tired me out since it is mostly manual work for now (I need to learn how the refuge center operates before taking care of babies). I have never seen so many leaves in my life. Costa Ricans have to raked leaves as much as Sicilians have to sweep the Mt Etnian dust of their porch. Because of the rain, the leaves fall quite often and easily. I thought I knew how to rake leaves until I met Jimmy. After spending a good hour on raking little piles of leaves all over the garden, I gleefully walked back to his quarters to let him know of my accomplishment. Jimmy walked around and told me the spots that, I not only missed, but shook trees to let more leaves fall to the ground. "Falta mucho, uh?"
My smile had faded on my face and I started raking again. Jimmy was an amazing raking partner. Never complained once, and finished pretty much the whole garden while I was still working on my little patch of grass, but I guess that's what it's like when you are a gardener in Costa Rica.
After coming home to my cold shower, my bed and clean clothes, I try my best to enjoy dinner. As I mentioned, the hotel has an amazing restaurant, but in the past three days I have been out in town to eat. I have enjoyed my Costa Rican meal, which consisted of beans and rice with a fresh fish. The lady who prepares the food for the animal at the refuge also owns a restaurant. I saw Xo and Chai, the deer, ran for their food and Tuki Tuki, the toucan, attack other pets for food, so I figured that she must make delicious human food as well. Let me tell you that I devoured that meal. The fish was doused in a Caribbean sauce, while the rice and the beans were a nice complementary side dish. The most amazing thing to me was the fried plantains that came with the fish. It was like a banana cookie that I was allowed during dinner. I would have a bit of fried plantain and a bite of rice and beans, all in the while enjoying Angelina's large family walk in an out of the restaurant along with their two little kittens. The meal came with a free drink called Tamarind. After doing a bit of research, I found out Tamarind is actually a tree (they use the seeds for the drink), which is originally from Africa but was introduced to Central/ South America by the conquistadors. It is sweet and sour at the same time, and best of all (for me), it is filled with Calcium. Instead of taking my pills everyday, I am now drinking one Tamarind Drink a day. It keeps the bone doctor away!
Last night, I went out into town to eat with some of the volunteers at a restaurant called Flip Flop. It is the most hip restaurant in town. Therefore, we had to wait a whole whopping 10 minutes to get seated. Obviously, there is no real hostess here, so we jut waited for a table to get up and sat down when we had a chance. I had a burger and fries, as for the last two days I had been eating Costa Rican food and raw fruits (which is a big no-no according to my travel nurse from Passport Health). My stomach definitely enjoyed it more than it should. I earned that American passport fair and square, and the German girls were eyeing my burger with envy. I shared my fries, as any good food-sharer would and germans eat their fries with Ketchup and Mayonnaise mixed together. As soon as I mixed the two for them, the Ket-yo was met with laughs and smiles. Crazy germans. Then we decided to have daquiris each. I actually had Club soda as I was already extremely tired, and still had to bike home. The fresh fruit truly makes a difference in making a proper daquiri. As any good travelers do, we started swapping travel stories, and Franzeska started to talk about her favorite cheesecake experience, at... The Cheesecake Factory. I had to break her dream and let her know it is brand, and nothing beats a home made cheesecake. I explained that my room mate used to make cheesecakes whenever he wanted, and I had the chance to eat them. 4 German girls might come over to the USA in a short bit to come visit Colton.
Talking about the refuge reminds me that the last time I posted I talked about a little monkey and a baby three toed sloth. I am happy to announce that the baby sloth is still kicking, but sad to say that the baby monkey died that night in the arms of Encar. The baby sloth is carried around in a scarf tied around our waists. It grips on pretty tightly to our shirts and allows us to do our activities, as long as he is warm and fed. He has already gained a bit of weight as do all of our animals. We see his little tummy getting fuller everyday. It is only a matter of time until he has the typical round little stomach that our babies get.
I talk about the animals as if they are my babies but we have constant reminders that they are wild animals, and could very much hurt us. Chipito (remember, our teenage male who freaked out when James was in the cage with Jessa?) came back from his trip to the forest with his toe bitten off and a gash on his head. Another Alpha howler monkey had been roaming around nearby and saw our young flirty females. When he got to close to one of our babies, Chipito went to go and protect her. It only took a minute for the two to start fighting. Chipito didn't win this battle without injuries, but the other monkey left promptly. Our vet stitched him up quickly, but his middle toe was already ripped off. There was nothing we could do about it. He will have to learn to live without it. It isn't like wild monkeys don't have injuries. After we watched Rise of The Planet of the Apes, we know that monkeys are aggressive by nature and very unpredictable (no matter how much they resemble humans in their attitude), yet very smart. Nothing to fear, Chipito is now being cuddled by every female volunteers. I guaranteed him that any human male would be jealous of him, as we are not nearly as helpful and caring when our male equivalents break their legs. He is expected to make a nice recovery physically, we aren't sure about his ego yet though.
Anyway, tomorrow is my day off, therefore, I might go to the beach or on a chocolate tour. I haven't planned anything yet, as I am not sure how I will feel tomorrow.
One thing is sure, I am eating Argentinian tomorrow for lunch.
This is the life of a foodie. Nothing is planned but where/ what we eat.
Eat and sleep, the life of a sloth.
Ciao amigos!
For that matter, I have lived life to the almost fullest. The refuge center has tired me out since it is mostly manual work for now (I need to learn how the refuge center operates before taking care of babies). I have never seen so many leaves in my life. Costa Ricans have to raked leaves as much as Sicilians have to sweep the Mt Etnian dust of their porch. Because of the rain, the leaves fall quite often and easily. I thought I knew how to rake leaves until I met Jimmy. After spending a good hour on raking little piles of leaves all over the garden, I gleefully walked back to his quarters to let him know of my accomplishment. Jimmy walked around and told me the spots that, I not only missed, but shook trees to let more leaves fall to the ground. "Falta mucho, uh?"
My smile had faded on my face and I started raking again. Jimmy was an amazing raking partner. Never complained once, and finished pretty much the whole garden while I was still working on my little patch of grass, but I guess that's what it's like when you are a gardener in Costa Rica.
After coming home to my cold shower, my bed and clean clothes, I try my best to enjoy dinner. As I mentioned, the hotel has an amazing restaurant, but in the past three days I have been out in town to eat. I have enjoyed my Costa Rican meal, which consisted of beans and rice with a fresh fish. The lady who prepares the food for the animal at the refuge also owns a restaurant. I saw Xo and Chai, the deer, ran for their food and Tuki Tuki, the toucan, attack other pets for food, so I figured that she must make delicious human food as well. Let me tell you that I devoured that meal. The fish was doused in a Caribbean sauce, while the rice and the beans were a nice complementary side dish. The most amazing thing to me was the fried plantains that came with the fish. It was like a banana cookie that I was allowed during dinner. I would have a bit of fried plantain and a bite of rice and beans, all in the while enjoying Angelina's large family walk in an out of the restaurant along with their two little kittens. The meal came with a free drink called Tamarind. After doing a bit of research, I found out Tamarind is actually a tree (they use the seeds for the drink), which is originally from Africa but was introduced to Central/ South America by the conquistadors. It is sweet and sour at the same time, and best of all (for me), it is filled with Calcium. Instead of taking my pills everyday, I am now drinking one Tamarind Drink a day. It keeps the bone doctor away!
Last night, I went out into town to eat with some of the volunteers at a restaurant called Flip Flop. It is the most hip restaurant in town. Therefore, we had to wait a whole whopping 10 minutes to get seated. Obviously, there is no real hostess here, so we jut waited for a table to get up and sat down when we had a chance. I had a burger and fries, as for the last two days I had been eating Costa Rican food and raw fruits (which is a big no-no according to my travel nurse from Passport Health). My stomach definitely enjoyed it more than it should. I earned that American passport fair and square, and the German girls were eyeing my burger with envy. I shared my fries, as any good food-sharer would and germans eat their fries with Ketchup and Mayonnaise mixed together. As soon as I mixed the two for them, the Ket-yo was met with laughs and smiles. Crazy germans. Then we decided to have daquiris each. I actually had Club soda as I was already extremely tired, and still had to bike home. The fresh fruit truly makes a difference in making a proper daquiri. As any good travelers do, we started swapping travel stories, and Franzeska started to talk about her favorite cheesecake experience, at... The Cheesecake Factory. I had to break her dream and let her know it is brand, and nothing beats a home made cheesecake. I explained that my room mate used to make cheesecakes whenever he wanted, and I had the chance to eat them. 4 German girls might come over to the USA in a short bit to come visit Colton.
Talking about the refuge reminds me that the last time I posted I talked about a little monkey and a baby three toed sloth. I am happy to announce that the baby sloth is still kicking, but sad to say that the baby monkey died that night in the arms of Encar. The baby sloth is carried around in a scarf tied around our waists. It grips on pretty tightly to our shirts and allows us to do our activities, as long as he is warm and fed. He has already gained a bit of weight as do all of our animals. We see his little tummy getting fuller everyday. It is only a matter of time until he has the typical round little stomach that our babies get.
I talk about the animals as if they are my babies but we have constant reminders that they are wild animals, and could very much hurt us. Chipito (remember, our teenage male who freaked out when James was in the cage with Jessa?) came back from his trip to the forest with his toe bitten off and a gash on his head. Another Alpha howler monkey had been roaming around nearby and saw our young flirty females. When he got to close to one of our babies, Chipito went to go and protect her. It only took a minute for the two to start fighting. Chipito didn't win this battle without injuries, but the other monkey left promptly. Our vet stitched him up quickly, but his middle toe was already ripped off. There was nothing we could do about it. He will have to learn to live without it. It isn't like wild monkeys don't have injuries. After we watched Rise of The Planet of the Apes, we know that monkeys are aggressive by nature and very unpredictable (no matter how much they resemble humans in their attitude), yet very smart. Nothing to fear, Chipito is now being cuddled by every female volunteers. I guaranteed him that any human male would be jealous of him, as we are not nearly as helpful and caring when our male equivalents break their legs. He is expected to make a nice recovery physically, we aren't sure about his ego yet though.
Anyway, tomorrow is my day off, therefore, I might go to the beach or on a chocolate tour. I haven't planned anything yet, as I am not sure how I will feel tomorrow.
One thing is sure, I am eating Argentinian tomorrow for lunch.
This is the life of a foodie. Nothing is planned but where/ what we eat.
Eat and sleep, the life of a sloth.
Ciao amigos!
3/11/2013
New babies arrived!
Today was eventful and uneventful at the same time. There was no crazy hunt for spiders or beer, but rather it was raking, raking, raking and finally scrubbing the walls of the stables. It has been a gorgeous and sunny day, which would have been amazing if I could have laid around with sloths all day, but today was manual labor. At first, I was okay with it and thought about how much I didn't mind it, but right before lunch time, I turned into a little monster. I was hangry- hungry and angry. I was sit and tired of raking leaves, when they kept on falling, and the never ending tasks. I was tired of hearing people freaking out when I had my break from being in the sun. Listen, other nameless volunteer, you go rack in the sun for 4 hours straight while having Jimmy tell you how your racking is depressingly slow, and then you can tell me how if I never look like I am helping out. I am gonna unleash Diablolino, our margay, on your annoying personality and then you will have bigger worries than what I am doing with my life at the moment.
After lunch, everything was easier. It is surprising how just a little bit of food can so to the human spirit. While we were eating lunch, Encar came out to show us the newest arrival. It was little baby monkey wrapped in one of the blankets I had donated. Encar doesn't expect to survive the night, as it is so small and had a bot-fly.
For those of you who are wondering what a bot-fly is, do not fear. You're the majority. A bot-fly is a fly that reproduce in the following manner. If you have food nearby, you might want to scarf it down before you read the following. A bot-fly will catch a mosquito and force its eggs into it. The mosquito then bites a mammal and inject the eggs into the skin. The larvae grows peacefully and after a month crawls out of the skin to buries itself into the ground to continue its metamorphosis.
It can happen to human, and the only way to know is when you have a mosquito bite that just keeps on growing and growing. It is easily removable after a week of growing, and it is harmless to the host until the larvae gets out and leaves that gaping hole in your flesh.
This baby monkey had one of those holes, and it was Encar's job to makes sure it doesn't get infect and that the new baby gets enough warmth.
The second arrival was of a baby three toed sloths. Some strangers came into the center at the end of our shifts holding on to a towel. Wrapped in it was a sloth slightly larger than the size of my fist. Encar gave us a statistic for the survival rate of baby sloths. 99% of them die. It was almost unfair. He wasn't injured and other than looking exhausted from the trip, he moved around fine. Encar is not going to sleep tonight as she has two new babies to care for.
In the meantime, I want to make sure to thank everyone who donated, as I see the items being used everyday. The blankets have been used on sloths, baby monkeys and the adult monkeys, while the goat milk is used for all of the baby sloths and even the squirrels. The bene-bac syringes has helped Angelina, our monkey and Frankie, our adult sloths feel better.
Now enjoy this video of Pomme, our three toes sloth trying to escape to the Cayman cage:
After lunch, everything was easier. It is surprising how just a little bit of food can so to the human spirit. While we were eating lunch, Encar came out to show us the newest arrival. It was little baby monkey wrapped in one of the blankets I had donated. Encar doesn't expect to survive the night, as it is so small and had a bot-fly.
For those of you who are wondering what a bot-fly is, do not fear. You're the majority. A bot-fly is a fly that reproduce in the following manner. If you have food nearby, you might want to scarf it down before you read the following. A bot-fly will catch a mosquito and force its eggs into it. The mosquito then bites a mammal and inject the eggs into the skin. The larvae grows peacefully and after a month crawls out of the skin to buries itself into the ground to continue its metamorphosis.
It can happen to human, and the only way to know is when you have a mosquito bite that just keeps on growing and growing. It is easily removable after a week of growing, and it is harmless to the host until the larvae gets out and leaves that gaping hole in your flesh.
This baby monkey had one of those holes, and it was Encar's job to makes sure it doesn't get infect and that the new baby gets enough warmth.
The second arrival was of a baby three toed sloths. Some strangers came into the center at the end of our shifts holding on to a towel. Wrapped in it was a sloth slightly larger than the size of my fist. Encar gave us a statistic for the survival rate of baby sloths. 99% of them die. It was almost unfair. He wasn't injured and other than looking exhausted from the trip, he moved around fine. Encar is not going to sleep tonight as she has two new babies to care for.
In the meantime, I want to make sure to thank everyone who donated, as I see the items being used everyday. The blankets have been used on sloths, baby monkeys and the adult monkeys, while the goat milk is used for all of the baby sloths and even the squirrels. The bene-bac syringes has helped Angelina, our monkey and Frankie, our adult sloths feel better.
Now enjoy this video of Pomme, our three toes sloth trying to escape to the Cayman cage:
3/10/2013
Far from Philadelphia Irish parade
I realize that today was the kick off start for the next week of St Patrick's day celebrations in Philadelphia. I remember last year getting to celebrate twice in the heart of Upenn area. While everyone enjoyed the nice weather in Philly and the daylight savings, I tried my best to finish writing about today. I am still exhausted from my day out. This is what I get for not biking more often in Philly.
I forgot an important detail of that day about getting to Manzanillo. This detail might make me look better than a fat lazy american who can barely bike 20 miles. The road to Punta Uva is flat, dotted with potholes. Once in Punta Uva, the road changes landscape. Three big hills awaited my poor scrawny legs. The hills had up sides, and down sides, which meant that I was going to need to bike up hill on my way to Manzanillo and home. Obviously, I made it home, but it wasn't without intense pain in my calf muscles for that night which have prolonged to tonight (which didn't help me bike to the Refuge Center at 7 AM).
After I posted my post last night and set up the foursquare account, we actually headed out to the nearest American Sport bar. They had a promise of free shots of guarro, which is another fermented grain. It really is the Costa Rican equivalent of terrible house tequila. It burns and tastes what you would expect a 17 year-old to drink quietly in his parents' basement. It was another bottle I wasn't gonna touch in a long time. On a lighter note, I finally found the beer I was looking for. After looking for a good 5 hours, we had found it. Costa Rica Craft Brewing company brews mostly two kind of beers, a pale ale (Libertas) and a red ale (Segua). Even though I had been looking for a Libertas, I ordered a Segua. And I enjoyed it. It wasn't spectacular, but after drinking Imperial for three days, it was a much needed change. Again, it was very typical for a Red ale, but very atypical for a Costa Rican beer.
This morning, I had quite the surprise when my alarm clock rang at 6:30AM. Not because it rang. I had set it for that, but when I stepped outside all dressed, ready to go cuddle up with a monkey, I realized it was still dark outside. Even the shrieking of the usual morning birds was quieter. A bad feeling settled in my stomach and I went back in my room. For whatever reason, my instinct told me to google "Costa Rica time" and so I did. It was the same gut feeling that had urging to press a red button by a closing gate in the Metro in Paris. Well, surely enough, I was now two hours behind with the USA. My phone had moved back an hour on its own, which would have been perfectly acceptable in the good ol' country, but here, Costa Rica doesn't have daylight savings. So when my clock moved back one hour, the real time didn't. I was now up and ready to go, bike in hand and backpack on when I really had one hour to spare. I felt silly as my biking partner knew the real time and wasn't up. I parked my bike in the lobby and told the security guard that I will be back in an hour. He nodded and I went back upstairs. There was no way I was going to sleep now. I was in no mood for reading, and the computer screen was too bright for me to try to read. I sat in my bed and tried to think of things to do. So I cleaned my small space, and re-organized my suitcase so everything was easy access. I have no idea how I spent one hour re-organizing my suitcase, but I managed. You might now call me the master of time wasting, because my suitcase as of after my shower is back in its original state.
Marjon, the other volunteer, was waiting for me downstairs. I apologized and put my hair up in a tight bun and off we went to the Refuge Center.
Today was Sunday, which means no visitors. This day is dedicated to taking the animals out of their enclosure for the whole day. We do therapy with our tucan,and hawks. We try to force Toneli, the baby monkey that Encar adopted (Remember from my last blog post?) to deal with his anxiety separation. We get Stanley, our Kinkajoo, to come out in the sun and try to adapt to his new found blindness. The monkeys usually go out into the forest for the entire day. There they get to meet other wild monkeys, and if they do find a spot in the troop they join. If not, they can come back with us to their safe heaven.
Chipito is our teenage male howler monkey. In this tribe, he is the alpha male. An alpha male who is scared of the baby monkeys, and of wasps, but there aren't a lot of males around this parts. Little did we know that Chipito hates males. He doesn't only hate males, but if he is being cuddles by one of the female volunteers and a male walks into the area, he will turn aggressive. I witnessed a teenage howler monkey go crazy today on our poor little Jessa. James, her boyfriend, had walked into the monkey enclosure to play with the babies and see if anyone needed to stay back from the jungle (usually out sick monkeys do not go as to rest). Chipito started out by pulling on Jessa's hair, and as soon as James tried to help Chipito off of his girlfriend's hair, Chipito started screaming and howling all the while still pulling on Jessa's hair. It wasn't until I went to get Encar, that we found out what the real problem was. She calmly said "I am not going in there. Get James out and it will be resolved." So I rushed over and told James to come out. Within seconds Chipito had let go of Jessa's hair and rest his head on her messy head of hair. He actually closed his eyes as if he was going for a nap. Jessa and I were in the dormitories, quiet, waiting for him to start acting out again. We could hear our heartbeat in our ears. Chipito actually ended up falling alseep in Jessa's arms later that day, and James got an earful from Jessa about nearly killing her by trying to help her out.
After the event, I went from high up to low down. The baby sloths needed to be taken out for their daily affection. I was chosen to cuddle up with Pomme, our little three toed sloth. We had recently gotten her and she was still looking for her mom. So as soon as she couldn't feel you or hear you, she would start letting out little squeals. It was absolutely adorable as I started napping with her and as she would move, she would suddenly cry desperately until I let her three toes hang my index finger. If this was the biggest complain of the day, I would take it anytime (especially over spider hunting).
The last animal I got to enjoy the company off was Stanley, out kinkajoo. We recently found out that Stanley is blind, and that's why he doesn't come out or try to climb branches very often. Not only that, but Kinkajoos are nocturnal, so we have to wake up out little cat-monkey hybrid and force him to run around and play with us. Encar is amazing at playing with Stanley. I tried to reproduce her technique but it just ended with Stanley, confusingly running around on the grass and into the horse enclosure. My poor little Stanley had no idea where I was, and there was far too many people talking for him to realize what I was suppose to sound like. So instead, we laid on the grass, with him on my chest napping and me looking at the blue sky.
At the end of day he was excited to come back to his bed, and to smell that we had a fresh coconut waiting for him. Too bad we placed it right next to his water bowl and he fell into it. But it didn't matter, to us we call Stanley, Stan the Man. I look forward to many more naps with Stan the Man.
Anyway, I am about to try to catch up on my sleep from last night.
Buenas Noches!
I forgot an important detail of that day about getting to Manzanillo. This detail might make me look better than a fat lazy american who can barely bike 20 miles. The road to Punta Uva is flat, dotted with potholes. Once in Punta Uva, the road changes landscape. Three big hills awaited my poor scrawny legs. The hills had up sides, and down sides, which meant that I was going to need to bike up hill on my way to Manzanillo and home. Obviously, I made it home, but it wasn't without intense pain in my calf muscles for that night which have prolonged to tonight (which didn't help me bike to the Refuge Center at 7 AM).
After I posted my post last night and set up the foursquare account, we actually headed out to the nearest American Sport bar. They had a promise of free shots of guarro, which is another fermented grain. It really is the Costa Rican equivalent of terrible house tequila. It burns and tastes what you would expect a 17 year-old to drink quietly in his parents' basement. It was another bottle I wasn't gonna touch in a long time. On a lighter note, I finally found the beer I was looking for. After looking for a good 5 hours, we had found it. Costa Rica Craft Brewing company brews mostly two kind of beers, a pale ale (Libertas) and a red ale (Segua). Even though I had been looking for a Libertas, I ordered a Segua. And I enjoyed it. It wasn't spectacular, but after drinking Imperial for three days, it was a much needed change. Again, it was very typical for a Red ale, but very atypical for a Costa Rican beer.
This morning, I had quite the surprise when my alarm clock rang at 6:30AM. Not because it rang. I had set it for that, but when I stepped outside all dressed, ready to go cuddle up with a monkey, I realized it was still dark outside. Even the shrieking of the usual morning birds was quieter. A bad feeling settled in my stomach and I went back in my room. For whatever reason, my instinct told me to google "Costa Rica time" and so I did. It was the same gut feeling that had urging to press a red button by a closing gate in the Metro in Paris. Well, surely enough, I was now two hours behind with the USA. My phone had moved back an hour on its own, which would have been perfectly acceptable in the good ol' country, but here, Costa Rica doesn't have daylight savings. So when my clock moved back one hour, the real time didn't. I was now up and ready to go, bike in hand and backpack on when I really had one hour to spare. I felt silly as my biking partner knew the real time and wasn't up. I parked my bike in the lobby and told the security guard that I will be back in an hour. He nodded and I went back upstairs. There was no way I was going to sleep now. I was in no mood for reading, and the computer screen was too bright for me to try to read. I sat in my bed and tried to think of things to do. So I cleaned my small space, and re-organized my suitcase so everything was easy access. I have no idea how I spent one hour re-organizing my suitcase, but I managed. You might now call me the master of time wasting, because my suitcase as of after my shower is back in its original state.
Marjon, the other volunteer, was waiting for me downstairs. I apologized and put my hair up in a tight bun and off we went to the Refuge Center.
Today was Sunday, which means no visitors. This day is dedicated to taking the animals out of their enclosure for the whole day. We do therapy with our tucan,and hawks. We try to force Toneli, the baby monkey that Encar adopted (Remember from my last blog post?) to deal with his anxiety separation. We get Stanley, our Kinkajoo, to come out in the sun and try to adapt to his new found blindness. The monkeys usually go out into the forest for the entire day. There they get to meet other wild monkeys, and if they do find a spot in the troop they join. If not, they can come back with us to their safe heaven.
Chipito is our teenage male howler monkey. In this tribe, he is the alpha male. An alpha male who is scared of the baby monkeys, and of wasps, but there aren't a lot of males around this parts. Little did we know that Chipito hates males. He doesn't only hate males, but if he is being cuddles by one of the female volunteers and a male walks into the area, he will turn aggressive. I witnessed a teenage howler monkey go crazy today on our poor little Jessa. James, her boyfriend, had walked into the monkey enclosure to play with the babies and see if anyone needed to stay back from the jungle (usually out sick monkeys do not go as to rest). Chipito started out by pulling on Jessa's hair, and as soon as James tried to help Chipito off of his girlfriend's hair, Chipito started screaming and howling all the while still pulling on Jessa's hair. It wasn't until I went to get Encar, that we found out what the real problem was. She calmly said "I am not going in there. Get James out and it will be resolved." So I rushed over and told James to come out. Within seconds Chipito had let go of Jessa's hair and rest his head on her messy head of hair. He actually closed his eyes as if he was going for a nap. Jessa and I were in the dormitories, quiet, waiting for him to start acting out again. We could hear our heartbeat in our ears. Chipito actually ended up falling alseep in Jessa's arms later that day, and James got an earful from Jessa about nearly killing her by trying to help her out.
After the event, I went from high up to low down. The baby sloths needed to be taken out for their daily affection. I was chosen to cuddle up with Pomme, our little three toed sloth. We had recently gotten her and she was still looking for her mom. So as soon as she couldn't feel you or hear you, she would start letting out little squeals. It was absolutely adorable as I started napping with her and as she would move, she would suddenly cry desperately until I let her three toes hang my index finger. If this was the biggest complain of the day, I would take it anytime (especially over spider hunting).
The last animal I got to enjoy the company off was Stanley, out kinkajoo. We recently found out that Stanley is blind, and that's why he doesn't come out or try to climb branches very often. Not only that, but Kinkajoos are nocturnal, so we have to wake up out little cat-monkey hybrid and force him to run around and play with us. Encar is amazing at playing with Stanley. I tried to reproduce her technique but it just ended with Stanley, confusingly running around on the grass and into the horse enclosure. My poor little Stanley had no idea where I was, and there was far too many people talking for him to realize what I was suppose to sound like. So instead, we laid on the grass, with him on my chest napping and me looking at the blue sky.
At the end of day he was excited to come back to his bed, and to smell that we had a fresh coconut waiting for him. Too bad we placed it right next to his water bowl and he fell into it. But it didn't matter, to us we call Stanley, Stan the Man. I look forward to many more naps with Stan the Man.
Anyway, I am about to try to catch up on my sleep from last night.
Buenas Noches!
3/09/2013
3 Days in, already a day off
This morning I woke up early again, but what really got me up was the delicious smell of bacon. I remember making myself a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich at home and worrying that this will be the last time I eat bacon in months. Yet, here I am again, surprised at the world.
I didn't eat my American breakfast today. I actually took the two hours this morning to face my fear of sitting in a hammock. If you have only seen the braided hammock that look slightly comfortable but are nicely displayed at Lowe's (or wherever hammock are sold), you haven't seen a real hammock. It is really just a piece of cloth attached at the ends by two ropes. Strong ropes, I am sure, but ropes non-the-less. I opened up the hammock to make sure there was no spiders, scorpions or snakes. There was none. I am not 100% why there would be some, but hey, nature has this funny way of finding its way around me. Ask the three mosquitos that braved the 30% DEET solution on my skin to access my blood!
I was half hoping there would be some sort of strange creature in there so I could give myself a reason to never try again. But here I was, ready to go. The terrifying thing about hammocks are not the imminent danger of hurting yourself physically but of really embarrassing yourself. This was the reason I picked such an early hour, when everyone was sleeping and no one was around other the night security guard who had already caught me talk baby to the stray cat the other morning. There was no shame between the two of us. If I was to fall and embarrass myself, he would be the one I wanted to do it in front of. And so I opened up the hammock, because the cloth really doesn't look like there is any end to it. I plotted my butt into the hammock, my feet were still to the ground so I could still have my balance. I sighed, while holding my laptop (I was hoping to re-read my last entry), closed my eyes and quickly put my legs in the hammock and rested my head back.
I stood still for a good minute, making sure the hammock wasn't going to break. My movements in the hammock were the equivalent of a sloth's. I opened my laptop and started reading. After five minutes of concentration, I forgot I was in a hammock.
I can safely say, I am no longer scared of getting in a hammock. Fear conquered. I think I will always double check for scorpions, spiders and snakes, but I think I am ready to publicly sit in a hammock.
After my hammock incident, I couldn't ignore the black hole that had replaced my stomach. The bacon smell had turned into sausage smell, and the two mixed together made my stomach angry. It growled once, and I knew what it meant. I took my malaria medications and went into town. I didn't take my bike, because I wanted to take a walk on the beach. And so I did. I arrived in town within 5 minutes. There is three places to be in Puerto Viejo: EZ time, TexMex and Johnny's place. Texmex is the place where all the dodgy, Rastafarians hang out. If you are looking for a baggy of Marijuana, that's the place to go. Johnny's place is a bar restaurant that has events everynight. EZ time is another bar restaurant where they allow people to play their music whenever. I wanted to go there for breakfast, but apparently 9am is too early for breakfast here. So, I ended up at a Spanish restaurant... So much for my Costa Rican meal.
A German couple sat down at my table since there was non open, and we discussed where they traveled, and where I was going. The woman looked exactly like Scarlett Johansson and had some crazy stories about her backpacking experience/ hiking from Panama up to Puero Viejo, and all over Thailand. She had worked at an elephant rescue center and was telling me about this elephant who had three legs. I'm still not sure I can believe her, or imagine it, but why would she lie right?After the whole description of how a tree legged elephant walked, we discussed hair problems, as after all we are girls, and laughed over my American out-of-shape problems. They were pleasant to have breakfast with and if this was gonna be my life, I wouldn't be too upset about it.
After my avocado-scrambled eggs filled breakfast, I went to the tourism office to try to see about surfing lessons. It turns out a two hours lesson is 55$. I had budgeted 40$ a day for food and activities. Therefore, I might wait when I am a little more within my travels until I take a hand in surfing. The funny thing about this surfing school is that you can't call yourself. The tourism office had to call themselves and set up a meeting for you. It sounds exciting, but again, my only real worry is my budget. Trying to be responsible is tough at times.
Before I took off for the beach, Linda, JT's pitbull mutt puppy, had a limp. JT explained to us that she had jumped out of his truck while it was still moving. So her leg was hurting. She is an intrepid puppy. She enjoyed barking at a dog double her size this morning, all the while limping. She didn't back down, or run towards me to hide between my legs. She stood her ground until the pacific dog left the propriety, which I don't think it ever planned on walking on.
In the afternoon, Raligitano and I went all the way to Manzanillo, which is the last town on the road. We took a quick stop in Punta Uva, where we went to the ocean and had an informal photoshot. And by that I mean, I mostly took pictures of him while he enjoyed the ocean as much as he could. We had hoped that this one bar had some Libertas - another local beer- so we could have some other Costa Rican beer than Imperial (Raleigh actually went on a tour of the brewery, so I got jealous), but as it turned out the remote bar didn't have any, so we continued on. On the way to Punta Uva, we took a quick stop and found a little kitten that must have been hit by a bike. His spine was deformed and it forced him to walk funny. At first, we thought he was just acting silly, but after we petted him (He/She was extremely friendly) we noticed the poor little thing's broken back. It was a miracle he could still walk. It was at this moment that I truly understood what Raleigh meant when he said Animals here aren't as pampered as in the USA, and therefore the animals are tougher. A puppy can jump off a moving truck and walk it off with a little limp. While a kitten can be run over by a bicycle/ motorcycle and walk it out with a deformation. It was sad to see, and as I debated in taking it home with me, I realized that this was Morocco all over again. If I was to take every orphan cats home from my travels, the TSA would officially create a title "cat lady" for my many returns to the USA with multiple foreign cats. My passport would have various stamps warning the security of my status as a cat lover.Therefore, I will try to keep my cat loving to the minimum, or on the Refuge's propriety, and leave my little furry friends alone and come visit them while I am here.
While we got to Manzanillo, we were still hunting for our local beer (Libertas, one of the Costa Rica's Craft Brewery), but it turns out that, even though Manzanillo is at the end of the road, it is smaller than Puerto Viejo. We settled on sharing a small flask of the local coconut rum called, Lizano Cahuita. We took a quick half shot of the devil's liquid and could smell coconut for a good five minutes. It was not our favorite, but as the town Cahuita is a few miles and our efforts in trying to drink local beer had failed, we felt impulsed to purchase it and try it. Well, I had it once and I am happy to say that I feel very local for being able to say that I had a bit of it but the next time I chose my alcohol, I will have to go with something less fruity.
Once we got back to the hotel, Raleigh and I actually ended setting up a foursquare for Kaya's place. My new goal is to be the mayor of the place and to be able to brag about it back home. Since no one knows of this place yet, it should be fairly easy. And this my friends is a real coup d'etat.
Ciao, amigos!
It is time to be off on more adventures :)
I didn't eat my American breakfast today. I actually took the two hours this morning to face my fear of sitting in a hammock. If you have only seen the braided hammock that look slightly comfortable but are nicely displayed at Lowe's (or wherever hammock are sold), you haven't seen a real hammock. It is really just a piece of cloth attached at the ends by two ropes. Strong ropes, I am sure, but ropes non-the-less. I opened up the hammock to make sure there was no spiders, scorpions or snakes. There was none. I am not 100% why there would be some, but hey, nature has this funny way of finding its way around me. Ask the three mosquitos that braved the 30% DEET solution on my skin to access my blood!
I was half hoping there would be some sort of strange creature in there so I could give myself a reason to never try again. But here I was, ready to go. The terrifying thing about hammocks are not the imminent danger of hurting yourself physically but of really embarrassing yourself. This was the reason I picked such an early hour, when everyone was sleeping and no one was around other the night security guard who had already caught me talk baby to the stray cat the other morning. There was no shame between the two of us. If I was to fall and embarrass myself, he would be the one I wanted to do it in front of. And so I opened up the hammock, because the cloth really doesn't look like there is any end to it. I plotted my butt into the hammock, my feet were still to the ground so I could still have my balance. I sighed, while holding my laptop (I was hoping to re-read my last entry), closed my eyes and quickly put my legs in the hammock and rested my head back.
I stood still for a good minute, making sure the hammock wasn't going to break. My movements in the hammock were the equivalent of a sloth's. I opened my laptop and started reading. After five minutes of concentration, I forgot I was in a hammock.
I can safely say, I am no longer scared of getting in a hammock. Fear conquered. I think I will always double check for scorpions, spiders and snakes, but I think I am ready to publicly sit in a hammock.
After my hammock incident, I couldn't ignore the black hole that had replaced my stomach. The bacon smell had turned into sausage smell, and the two mixed together made my stomach angry. It growled once, and I knew what it meant. I took my malaria medications and went into town. I didn't take my bike, because I wanted to take a walk on the beach. And so I did. I arrived in town within 5 minutes. There is three places to be in Puerto Viejo: EZ time, TexMex and Johnny's place. Texmex is the place where all the dodgy, Rastafarians hang out. If you are looking for a baggy of Marijuana, that's the place to go. Johnny's place is a bar restaurant that has events everynight. EZ time is another bar restaurant where they allow people to play their music whenever. I wanted to go there for breakfast, but apparently 9am is too early for breakfast here. So, I ended up at a Spanish restaurant... So much for my Costa Rican meal.
A German couple sat down at my table since there was non open, and we discussed where they traveled, and where I was going. The woman looked exactly like Scarlett Johansson and had some crazy stories about her backpacking experience/ hiking from Panama up to Puero Viejo, and all over Thailand. She had worked at an elephant rescue center and was telling me about this elephant who had three legs. I'm still not sure I can believe her, or imagine it, but why would she lie right?After the whole description of how a tree legged elephant walked, we discussed hair problems, as after all we are girls, and laughed over my American out-of-shape problems. They were pleasant to have breakfast with and if this was gonna be my life, I wouldn't be too upset about it.
After my avocado-scrambled eggs filled breakfast, I went to the tourism office to try to see about surfing lessons. It turns out a two hours lesson is 55$. I had budgeted 40$ a day for food and activities. Therefore, I might wait when I am a little more within my travels until I take a hand in surfing. The funny thing about this surfing school is that you can't call yourself. The tourism office had to call themselves and set up a meeting for you. It sounds exciting, but again, my only real worry is my budget. Trying to be responsible is tough at times.
Before I took off for the beach, Linda, JT's pitbull mutt puppy, had a limp. JT explained to us that she had jumped out of his truck while it was still moving. So her leg was hurting. She is an intrepid puppy. She enjoyed barking at a dog double her size this morning, all the while limping. She didn't back down, or run towards me to hide between my legs. She stood her ground until the pacific dog left the propriety, which I don't think it ever planned on walking on.
In the afternoon, Raligitano and I went all the way to Manzanillo, which is the last town on the road. We took a quick stop in Punta Uva, where we went to the ocean and had an informal photoshot. And by that I mean, I mostly took pictures of him while he enjoyed the ocean as much as he could. We had hoped that this one bar had some Libertas - another local beer- so we could have some other Costa Rican beer than Imperial (Raleigh actually went on a tour of the brewery, so I got jealous), but as it turned out the remote bar didn't have any, so we continued on. On the way to Punta Uva, we took a quick stop and found a little kitten that must have been hit by a bike. His spine was deformed and it forced him to walk funny. At first, we thought he was just acting silly, but after we petted him (He/She was extremely friendly) we noticed the poor little thing's broken back. It was a miracle he could still walk. It was at this moment that I truly understood what Raleigh meant when he said Animals here aren't as pampered as in the USA, and therefore the animals are tougher. A puppy can jump off a moving truck and walk it off with a little limp. While a kitten can be run over by a bicycle/ motorcycle and walk it out with a deformation. It was sad to see, and as I debated in taking it home with me, I realized that this was Morocco all over again. If I was to take every orphan cats home from my travels, the TSA would officially create a title "cat lady" for my many returns to the USA with multiple foreign cats. My passport would have various stamps warning the security of my status as a cat lover.Therefore, I will try to keep my cat loving to the minimum, or on the Refuge's propriety, and leave my little furry friends alone and come visit them while I am here.
While we got to Manzanillo, we were still hunting for our local beer (Libertas, one of the Costa Rica's Craft Brewery), but it turns out that, even though Manzanillo is at the end of the road, it is smaller than Puerto Viejo. We settled on sharing a small flask of the local coconut rum called, Lizano Cahuita. We took a quick half shot of the devil's liquid and could smell coconut for a good five minutes. It was not our favorite, but as the town Cahuita is a few miles and our efforts in trying to drink local beer had failed, we felt impulsed to purchase it and try it. Well, I had it once and I am happy to say that I feel very local for being able to say that I had a bit of it but the next time I chose my alcohol, I will have to go with something less fruity.
Once we got back to the hotel, Raleigh and I actually ended setting up a foursquare for Kaya's place. My new goal is to be the mayor of the place and to be able to brag about it back home. Since no one knows of this place yet, it should be fairly easy. And this my friends is a real coup d'etat.
Ciao, amigos!
It is time to be off on more adventures :)
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