San Jose: In a world of plastic and noise

I have had this "cousin" that I actually never knew of until I learned how to google my last name.  When I first met him (online), we were both living "off the grid" in the woods.  Years passed, and we both ended up living on islands. A few months back, he was contacted by some TV producers to do a show about his life, but to add some dimensions, they wanted more people, so he reached out to me to see if I'd be interested.  My initial reaction was "YES! ... but I like my flight benefits... so maybe not" But I knew I wanted to visit and meet him anyway.

On Wednesday, I got an email saying that we were overstaffed, and if anyone wanted to take the following week off (unpaid) they would need to sign up by Thursday.  I jumped at the opportunity, and booked my flight Thursday. Friday I drove to Dallas and hopped a plane to San Jose, Costa Rica.

I messaged Jaimie to see if it was okay if I visit/if he needed anything from town (because I remembered what it's like to be on a remote island) and also messaged his partner, Dashaina to introduce myself.  Jaimie only asked for some raquet/tennis balls (one of the few things I would imagine would be less satisfying for him to try to make, since he's made just about everything else at his house). As I sped from Austin to Dallas, I whizzed through Walmart to grab some racquet/ tennis balls and a tarp that I could hang over my hammock since it was supposed to rain. I forgot batteries for my headlamp (foreshadowing!)

I was feeling more confident in my Spanish and started the trip by thinking I would try to spend less time trying to google where to go and how to get there, and more time talking with locals who could help me.  I had wrongly made the assumption that San Jose would be relatively easy for me to get in and out of, but I was wrong.

From Instagram:  

At first I thought my mom was crazy when she gave me this ring, but after wearing it a few times in uncomfortable situations, it has become one of the top 5 things I would never leave at home as a solo female traveler. Tonight, a bus driver told me he was going where I needed, and after a quarter of the way through the bus became nearly empty (something I've never experienced in another country) and the driver ("Dave") insisted I sit up front with him. I noticed several people waving him down but he ignored them. After telling me how beautiful I was and how I should be more afraid than I was, I told him I had nothing to be afraid of because my husband is a *very* dangerous man and he was waiting for me at my hotel. He seemed suspicious, and asked several times why I didn't have kids. I just told him that I was also a very dangerous woman, and we just couldn't afford to put kids through such a lifestyle.

 

I finally reached my hotel and it was already dark.  I went across the street for dinner, and then walked a ways up to find an ATM.  I bought a guava-filled pastry and walked across the street to a courtyard in front of the Teatro Nacional. 

Teatro Nacional

When I found a seat, a 50-something year-old woman approached and asked if she could join me.  At first I thought she might be homeless (she had on shiny gold leggings, hot pink lacy sandals, and a white-ish decorated sweater that could have come from the closet of one of my old elementary school teachers). I felt on-edge, but (as shallow as this sounds) when I saw that she had clean hands, nails, and teeth I thought that having her there might actually be safer for me, so I moved over so she could sit.  We made small talk and I warmed up my Spanish by asking stock questions (Are you from here? Do you have family? What do you recommend doing here? What is your favorite food to eat?)  When a nicely-dressed and seemingly sincere guy came and asked us if we knew where the ATM was (at least I thought that's what he was asking?), she hissed something at him that I didn't understand.  When he left, she muttered how much she hated Nicaraguans-- and that they have no reverence for the law.  Costa Ricans have respect for their authority.  I tried to ask her if it was legal to jay-walk, and maybe she misunderstood because then she went on a tirade about how it wasn't safe for me to walk home, and insisted that I stay with her in her hotel. Just then, I thought, "Wait.  What kind of woman is by herself in a park at night? A prostitute!" But just as soon as I came to that conclusion, I realized that I was also in the park alone, so how was I being perceived?  I told her it was time for me to go, and hastily made my way back to the hotel.

The next morning, I woke up at 6 thinking I could gather my things and surely make it to Bocas in good time. To shorten the story, that wasn't the case-- so I had another day to in San Jose.  Dashaina wrote me back and she just asked for books for her girls and natural deodorant.  So I decided to make a scavenger hunt out of it for the day.  I ended up finding something *like* natural deodorant (sin parabens? sin alcohol?) and somehow found Shel Silverstein's Where The Sidewalk Ends. Otherwise, this was a pretty basic day of just wandering around and exploring. 

En un mundo de plastico y ruido, ser estar de barro y de silencio.
(In a world of plastic and noise, I'd rather be of the earth and of silence.

A local soda at the central mercado

That night I struggled to find good food that wasn't overpriced gringo feed. By the time darkness came, I was way too far away from the sodas where I wished I had eaten (good local eats). When I travel, I want to eat everything, but I also try to be extremely selective so I don't break my wallet and my belt. I like to walk around and make a mission out of finding food, but I can talk myself out of anything if it's not local/cheap/healthy enough.  I'd gone all day without really eating anything, so I got really hungry and opted to check online reviews. Trip Advisor is informative in some places, but I'd argue that maybe in CR it's just loaded with American reviews (that I shouldn't have given much weight to). It sent me down some weird alleys to a really beautiful restaurant called Cafe Mundo where it looked like all the gringos were posted up.

The route to dinner had abandoned streets and alleys that almost felt haunted, so this made me chuckle.

Good wine and good scenery.

I had considered going out with some Couchsurfers, but by the time I finished my vino tinto, I decided to call it early so that I wouldn't miss my trip the next day.

I booked a direct shuttle to make things less complicated (it cost about $30 more, but it included lunch and there was wifi on board!).  The driver picked me up from my hotel and there was a chatty American family onboard and a sleeping woman. The sun rises and sets much earlier in CR, so at 6am the sun was already out in full force and the city was bustling.  As soon as we got out of San Jose, I hated myself for not getting up and out earlier the day before, at least to do a day tour in one of the national parks.  It was beautiful! I saw a baby sloth.  And a volcano.  And other cool things.  That said, it was still 10 hours of transit, and so when the chatty American father tried to (at times, incorrectly) explain to me the flora and fauna from the region, I rarely bothered to chime in or correct him since that would engage in a conversation that I was too tired to have.  So I just smiled, nodded, said "oh!" and "oh?" and enjoyed the scenery.

the lump under the branches is a baby sloth

promise, it's a volcano.

Many hours later, the sleeping girl woke up and introduced herself.  Her name was Alejandra, and she was traveling from Argentina (and, according to her, that was the reason why she slept most of the morning). As lunch was included with our day of transit, our driver dropped me and Ale off at a resort by the beach and told us he would pick us up after we ate lunch.

At first I think Ale and I were cautious to give each other space.  Traveling alone can be such a luxury, so neither of us wanted to intrude. But we sat together and ate our lunch, swapping travel tales and stories about our lives back home. 

 She told me she wasn't a very good swimmer, so I just went in and out to get my fix.  Our ride picked us back up and took us to the border where she helped guide me so I knew where to go and what I needed to say/do.  We crossed the bridge to Panama by foot, and from there... I will continue in another post because this one is called "San Jose".
 

On our way to Panama

Panama-a-a-ahhh...