friends and family

please keep me in your lives, write me your stories, ask me questions, comments... I am here and you are here in my heart.  thank you, Pura vida
Aisha

aishalilah@gmail.com

Casa Pequena

2 roman girls (that soon leave for Dominical)
1 Osvaldo (charming hyper active Spaniard crazy enough to begin a farm in the middle of nowhere jungle)
1 500lbs male pig, Cookie
1 horse, Billy Rue
25 ducks
30 chickens (minus the one we ate for dinner - I promise he was an angel, we all passed him around and hugged him and said thank you and pet him for a long time. And this Gallino was hypnotized; he willingly and tenderly laid his neck on the chopping block, a truly loving sacrifice)
15 goats 9they frequently escape in search of Agave to eat, then get caught in the barbed wire and puke up the agave...wth)
hummingbirds - every jewel color you can imagine. My favorite friend is the large scruffy brown hummingbird with a sharply curved beak - he flies into the main house every morning to admire and spin for himself in the mirror... every morning!) 
coconut palms - the real treat is fresh squeezed cane juice, lemon and coco juice
date palm
fruit bats

blood sucking bats that attach to the mother goat 
scarlet macaws
green parrots
hawks
jungle cats (I saw a large Jaguar on my hike into the state park of Corcovdo)
hyenas

pumas - very dog like cat in appearance
thousand of mosquitos
deadly snakes - (Terciopelo and Fer de lance)
wasps - huge
sugar cane
banana trees
cranberry trees
almond trees
cashew trees
lemon grass
green house - sad tomatoes, parsley, carrots
waterfalls
and more

3 houses (main house, 2 story, and romantic bungalow)
no electricity
running water
wood stove
brick oven

I am gonna stay... wish me luck :)

Casa Pequena- home.

I decide that Casa Pequena was my next target.  I needed to shake of my day with the devil and hoped to find some warmth in a friendly home with organic farmers.... the problem was that I didnt really know where, who or what Casa Pequena was.  The flyer said there was camping, cabinas and volunteer possibilities, it included a phone number and very general directions.  But no one really seemed to know where it was. But it was the journey I followed, not the destination.  Romantic, not practical.  I am happy for my choice. I was in Drake Bay looking pretty silly with a huge backpack (one day I will post a picture; tent and hula hoop in tow!), I had a short and difficult to understand phone conversation with the owner of Casa Pequena and he instructed me to take a taxi to the river then get onto a river taxi then walk... huh??  But neither of us understood eachother well, I did understand him say "see you tonight"... Ok, off we go again.  With Luck, I met a gringo with a motorbike that knew the land well... he delivered me and my huge pack in style, hes a really nice kid from ohio that got away from it all in costa rica.  He delivered me to the bridge and wished me luck... Luck I seemed to have; a clue or map or dirrections I did not.................  I cross the bridge and feel really excited.  I start my trek up the mountain.  I walk and walk, maybe an hour and a half!  Along the way I pass a few ticos, it is communicated that I am on the right path, but shit how far is it??  Finally a young man, Kenneth, meets me and explains in spanish that he is there to help me with my pack and show me the way.  I explain, I will carry my own belongings for it is my own humble victory.  Finally, Casa Pequena.  What will I find?  Organic gardening??  Home.

La Palm- I meet the Devil

La Palma:  I arrive at 7 am to discover that my transfer buss does not connect until 11:30 am.  In truth, I had only a vague idea of my next destination... Drake Bay to Northern entry of Corcavado?... Organic Farming on Casa Pequena??... I think Ok, just go... let the adventure guide your path.  As I sit in this sad little town, La Palma, workers passing with grim expressions, I notice many eyes resting desire on me.... Yep, gringa traveler with expensive gear (probably a camera, computer,electronic jackpot) The women fake smiles at me, darting their eyes at my backpack... Its clear "is she weak, strong, accessable?"... Alas, a drunkard with several fingers missing and fresh wounds to boast approaches me.  I practice my spanish as he feigns friendliness and common decency... I am stuck in this tiny rural town.  Manuel, missing fingers and teeth, assaults me with false friendship for about 4 hours.  Other towns peaople gently warn that he is bad.  I smile and I know....  Finally the bus comes. I think "phew, am I in the clear?"  I jump on the RV style bus (the young driver is holding his baby while driving).  We wait 5 minnutes and are leaving as Manuel, the devil, gets on.  OH FUCK, I think.  Then realize he has a friend already on the bus... Double Fuck!!  We depart, heading deeper and deeper into country and jungle wilderness.  He pretends further frindship and I get flustered.  I am heated and I let him know I am willing to deffend myself with any fiercness I hold.  My eyes speak my intention.  His tone changes, he comprehends that stealing my belongings or harming me is not a wise choice.  He and his friends talk through glances and huffy breathing...  He changes tactics and begins to harrass me, I do not understand the language and it becomes a huge joke that some passengers also find funny.  Cruel. I hear the words "Hippy" spoken in disgust.... I do not understand the language.  After 2 and a half hours I inform the driver of my dilema.  He asserts authority over the situation but I am sickened and in fear.  Finally, the ´joke´is played out and Manuel and associate depart the bus.  I am rattled... 6 hours of Manuel.  Finally clear, my journey is only just begun.....  But I passed the 1st test. Note: The jungle is demanding and dangerous, be smart...... next: Drake Bay

Puerto Jimenez- private secluded beach to view Golfito, A friend and lover, Ayer and his family

Puerto Jimenez: not the highlight of Costa Rica but it does have some charm... We ride bikes and discover this sleepy southern fishing town.  Some Ticos smile and some do not.  We wade through the bay into the privacy of mangrove jungle and beach seclusion.  My companion is especially strong in knowelege and we learn and discover together. After 3 days of together in Puerto Jiminez we part, then Ihave the pleasure and luck to meet Ayer and his Tico family...  with them I am kept warm and safe with kindness and family.  Lulled into a false security of costa rican friendliness and good fortune, I soon learn a valuable lesson in misfortune and unfortunate souls....The next day my departure is a bit rocky and I come to discover why..... Next: crossing the path of  Manuel, el diabolito.....

Dominical- beach, surfers, waterfalls, crocodiles, mosquitos, private swimming holes, otters and love

Dominical- beach, surfers, waterfalls, crocodiles, mosquitos, private swimming holes, otters and love.  10 days in love.  Need I say more?? Never the luckiest in love (as I know you already know my faithful reader), however, it was luck that introduced me to Phillipe.  Picture this: I see the bus slowly coming my way on a dusty dirt road, the rain has begun, I watch and wait.  I am heading to my next stop Uvita, still Corcavado bound... He rides up on his bike and says "hey, I rent cabinas... what are you doing?" kinda awkward, I know I have litterally moments to decide..... 10 days in love.  

san jose-quepos

I have been here 6 days. It is hot but comfortable.  The beaches are quite beautiful. The jungle is my heaven; waterfalls, monkeys, birds, bugs, green.  I can feel it as deeply as anything I have ever felt in my life.  And as I dive deeper into the local culture, I keep questioning, what does Pura Vida truly means. Pure Life.  But the country is so overwhelmed with tourists and gringos that the purity of local life here has shifted and given way to a large majority of oppertunistic hustlers and cheats. Pure life is the moto here, so I ask, what and where is it?  Before I arrived in this country I translated pure life to mean simple, pure, a preserved innocense, essential... now I translate it into a varition of intended meanings, Pura Vida: wild, national pride, sleep/eat/drink, tribal, hustle, take, the law of the people not the rules of government, pure life, not to be confused with a pure life. So needless to say, the polotics here have caught my eye.  Which leads me to mention that I have met some pretty disapointing examples of gringo tourists. There are many good north americans living and traveling here, but the tourist route its pretty much the epitomy of why we are internationally seen as ignorant and with little merit other than walking dollar signs.

Thises and thats: I have made several friends; a few americans living here, a swiss girl studying and volunteering, a grumpy old lonely but funny and helpful canadian drunkard and a really cute little Tico kid that asked me to teach him english. My spanish is improving much, though I am far from fluent. I can communicate and get around.  I am learning but my conversation skills are in good need of improvement, I just smile and laugh alot. I have been offered a little work making beds, I may take up the offer and extend my travels a few months. Also, I am looking for a volunteer position but the best farms to "volunteer" at all cost about $400-500 a month!  Other options will be good for room and board, so I keep looking for the right option for me.  Today I head from Quepos to Dominical, continueing onward to Osa, then north to Volcanos.

One Love,
Aisha