We’ve landed safely…and in the middle of a more serious culture shock than what we had expected or have ever experienced (yes, this beats Japan, hands down…I’ll explain why in a bit). We’re way off the beaten path and not quite sure how to navigate it, especially without a grasp of the language. We are, without exaggerating, without the comforts of home and miles away from our comfort zone. We expected that some comforts were just given. We were mistaken.
When we got here, we thought we hit the jackpot. Our landlord’s husband, Edward, a 50-something expat from Florida, picked us up on time from the airport in the Costa Rican version of a Smart Car – which surprisingly fit everything we brought without a problem. He drove us through the cities of tin roofs and barred windows for a little bit until we hit Costa Rica’s only recently-opened yet still a work-in-progress highway. He informed us that a once 4 hour drive from the airport to our rental has now been cut back to about 2 hours - which we probably would have reacted more positively to if we weren’t expecting the one hour drive that his Tico wife, Julia, told us. On the way, he was gracious enough to pull over and let us join some other tourists checking out the Gator River below a cement bridge. Those bad boys camouflage really well in the muddy water but we were able to easily spot at least five big guys. He brought us to the bank to exchange money (and helped with the translation), through the popular tourist city of Jaco and to our town’s local Walmart (called Pali and is about the size of a two car garage filled with groceries). During the drive he offered his knowledge, passed along some important tips and answered our questions which were pretty few. We got this travel thing down right? We bought books, we researched online. I mean come on, we did live in Japan! And if we can do that…we can live anywhere, especially for only three months. Who needs questions answered? Ha…
Only now have we come to realize that we were spoiled travelers in Japan. We were welcomed by our British boss who (1) spoke English and (2) immediately befriended us. He taught us where the restaurants were, how to order, where to shop, where to meet fellow foreigners, how to use public transportation, and everything else we needed to know. For the first few weeks we tagged along with him until we remembered enough to mimic everything he did. And although it didn’t seem likely to us, Japan is much more English friendly than Costa Rica. Japanese students are required to begin their English studies in 7th grade so rarely did we encounter someone who had zero ability to communicate with us. Here, not so much, at all. So far our communication has been pretty one-sided: either ours or theirs. We look at each other, speaking our native languages and play charades. Sometimes we talk louder, or slower, or put a Spanish accent on our still English words…and, who would’ve guessed…still no comprehension. Here, there is no British guy to shadow. There was Ed, who went above and beyond what he needed to as a landlord’s husband/translator/shuttle driver. But really, we just got tossed into a new world with nothing but our Lonely Planet guide, a dictionary, and no idea what we had just got ourselves into.
From the main road, we pulled down one of the infamous dirt/rock/“is this really a road?” type of path that I had been warned of which brought us into the heart of the palm tree plantation we live on. We passed two “pulperias” (general stores) and a local bar with karaoke (a universal language, we definitely learned that in Japan). Ed informed us that we were on our road, headed to our beach house, and serenaded us with a harmonica solo. It was a humorous gesture; the only problem being that it distracted us from paying attention to which winding roads in the repetitious landscape of palm trees led to our home. But that’s a topic for another blog.
Our house is not the nicest but one of the nicer concrete homes on the block, with a roof, windows, shutters, a yard and a legit door. Across from the dirt road that brought us here is what we like to call our front yard, a beach bigger and more intense than I’ve ever experienced. The best part? There will be no blanket to blanket overcrowding here. There can’t be when there’s absolutely no one else on your beach for miles. And I’m glad to say that everything inside looked like the pictures they sent. The only difference was the two bedrooms we expected have two more. Oh yeah…and they forgot to send along pics of our houseguests; a ginormous palmetto bug (look at your thumb, paint it brown, add a few scaly legs, stringy antennas, and you’ve got the idea – kind of like a cockroach on steroids), and the creepiest crab we’ve seen yet. He was small but with a black body, bright red eyes and white clawtips, he was intimidating. Ed informed us that we also have giant iguanas in our backyard that will “look at us”…can’t wait. For those that don’t know, among my top dislikes are crustaceans, very large insects and reptiles. And I’ve just entered their domain. But I’m not the only one a little creeped out. After Mike attacked the fan pullcord for brushing his hair as he walked by…I’m pretty sure we both have the heebie geebies.
As for the comforts of home that we’re lacking: (1) Couches. Wicker is the furniture of choice here and after ten minutes of trying to get comfortable and fifteen minutes before your butt goes numb, they aren’t our preferred seating. (2) Television. (3) Internet. Not that we came here to veg in front of the TV and waste hours on the web but it’s weird when you have absolutely nothing that can entertain or inform. (4) A real bed. If this one was a Sleep Number, it would be zero. (5) Cell phone service. Thanks Verizon for assuring me that we’d be covered but you can’t hear me now. (6) Hot water. Sure cold showers are refreshing after a hot day…but not every time. (7) A washing machine. I will be handwashing our clothes. It's 2010 right? 8) A vehicle. It sucks when you’re stuck. ‘Nuff said.
There’s no doubt we’re missing the comforts of home but I guess that’s what real travel is…experiencing something uncommon and new, something that isn’t home…even if it’s not cozy. As Leonardo DiCaprio’s character says in Mike’s favorite movie The Beach, “We all travel thousands of miles just to watch TV and check into somewhere with all the comforts of home…you gotta ask yourself, what is the point of that?” For some people that’s travel…for some it’s not. Now that we’re put to the test, I guess we’ll find out which group we’re in.
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