Ever since I've been able to see the ocean past the waves, so to speak, my relationship with Costa Rica has improved rapidly. We woke up (by our local alarm clock; a neighbor who has some very intense, fast paced conversations at her kids while banging around pots and pans) to an abundance of sunshine. We had no other choice, it was clearly a beach day. We grabbed our blanket, towels, and sunblock and did nothing but lay in the sun. First for a few hours...then walked a few steps to our house for some lunch...just to do it all over again for another couple of hours. We now have the tans to match two weeks of living near the equator.
While making dinner we were surprised to find The American Surfer (as Ed had dubbed him on our first trip down the road) headed to our door. He told us he's been dying to meet us after he heard through the grapevine that a couple of gringos (which is not a negative label by the way) moved in the neighborhood. He invited us to meet our neighbors a few houses down for some food and drinks. Since I was mid-cooking, we passed on the food but drinks were a solid maybe. After a brief huddle, we decided it probably wouldn't be very neighborly to dis their invitation and seeing as we were already the talk of the town, we'd like to keep the stories on the positive side.
We walked in the rain, down the dark road until we found the hosts we suspected were awaiting our arrival: Clint (aka The American Surfer), his mother Shelly, expats Owen, Mary Kay, Jim, and Ticos Marco and Orlando. And three dogs; the OD (Original Dog that relocated with Clint from South Carolina), Poopy (which I thought was hilarious since that's my preferred nickname for pets but then found out it was a Tico's mispronuncion of Puppy) and Gina (a 3 month old pup that Mike fell in love with. Marley beware...daddy's heart can be stolen...alright, maybe not stolen, but easily shared once he catches a whiff of puppy breath).
They bombarded us with questions you'd expect...how long we'll stay and where we're from and why we're here, and were disappointed when they learned of our move in a few weeks. I softened our excuses as I had no intention of insulting the community that just embraced us. They understood that traveling without a car in this neighborhood, isn't happening. Not only did they understand, they offered thier help. For the brief time we have left in Parrita, they gave us their schedules and offered free rides.
We asked Clint about his surf credentials, seeing as he was recognized as The American Surfer and he laughed. Apparently Clint USED to surf in the states, before he went to college for four years and worked for 10 years after that. When he moved to the area, he hopped on his board to see what he had left, if anything, and caught what he explained as "the best five waves" of his life, including a barrel which was not normal experience on his surf resume. Word traveled as quickly as new gringos in the neighborhood and he immediately became "The American Surfer." Which he finds amusing. Surfer or not, he was a cool guy with a generous heart that seemed to be escaping some difficult days in the states. After he heard our plan to watch football games in Quepos tomorrow, he offered a morning ride into town on the way to his church service. This took no huddle, we accepted.
We walked home after a couple hours and a trillion mosquito bites. It's just the way Costa Rica keeps me in check. Giving me good things all the while reminding me that I can be eaten alive any second...
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