Mitzi took me on a fieldtrip on Monday during our class time as she wanted to put me in more situations that required me to use my Spanish. Sadly these didn’t involve alcohol. Don’t worry, I still had fun, I am not an alcoholic people, I simply enjoy a few cold beverages in this ridiculously warm climate.
Speaking of which, did I tell you that in the Tico bars they serve cerveza in a bottle along with a glass of ice? If that doesn’t tell you how hot it is here, I don’t know what does. Having said that, I have not, and will not, take part in this criminal act and drink beer over ice. That is for rookies, not for professionals like me.
Our fieldtrip began with a bus ride to Quepos and a little tour of the local Tico spots, including the Tico grocery store. As all of you know, I have been going to Gringo Mas (really called Super Mas) for all my needs, but if you know enough Spanish to get by in a Tico grocery store, you will save yourself some money… though you won’t find Jiff or Kraft Mac & Cheese. In the Tico Mas, Mitzi made me ask where things were and locate certain products based on these conversations. Overall I did ok, well enough to go back without embarrassment.
Mitzi then took me on a tour of some of the local neighborhoods and towns. It is amazing the amount of people Mitzi knows around here. Everywhere we went she was saying hi to someone, or we were stopping by someone’s house. At one point she started chatting with this guy on the street and asked him where his fiancé was. He said he would go get her, and about 30 seconds later, the woman walked out of the house and greeted Mitzi by giving her a wedding invitation (in the form of a scroll) for her wedding this Saturday. I started to panic, the wedding was less than a week away, how I was going to get my “wedding skirt” here in time? I calmed down once I realized I wasn’t being invited to the wedding, Mitzi was. Close call.
After we walked through a couple of neighborhoods we came to a spot where we were required to take a short boat ride to get to the small town across the water. I began to assess the situation to determine if prayers would be required for this trip, as you all know that has become my “survival tactic” as of late. After scoping out the situation I decided that if the boat went down, it was only a short distance to the other side, and I certainly could swim that far. No prayers required, this method of transportation was going to be stress free.
We paid 30 cents and hopped on the boat. I sat down and as the boat turned around to head in the opposite direction, I noticed that we were only inches from water coming into the boat. No problem, there weren’t a lot of people on the boat, and like I said, it was only a short distance to the other side. Just as I was concluding that this was the safest form of transportation I have yet encountered in Costa Rica, I saw something in the water a short distance from the boat and asked Mitzi what it was. The answer was disturbing. Yup, you got it, a crocodile.
Knowing there were crocodiles in the water immediately changed my opinion of my current safety status. I decided I might just need a prayer after all, as I no longer felt confident about swimming to the other side of the shore in the crocodile infested water. Ok, “infested” may be a strong word, but in my opinion, 1 crocodile in the water constitutes “infested.”
You probably won’t be shocked to hear that my mind immediately went to the “I’d rather” game.
Would I rather be left overnight in the middle of the African Palms or be forced to swim for my life in filthy crocodile infested water?
It may surprise you to know that I was leaning towards the croc water as my choice. I mean with all the people in the water, maybe the croc would go after someone else, and certainly the time it would take me to swim to the other side would be much shorter than an entire night lost in the woods. More importantly, death by crocodile is WAY cooler than death while sitting next to a tree crying, frankly that would just be pathetic.
Then I remembered something from Mitzi’s day at my pool, she doesn’t know how to swim. Great, the boat is going to go down, and not only am I going to have to fight off the crocodiles, but I am going to have to save my teacher’s life too! Spanish lesson in the bar are way more relaxing.
Luckily we made it safely to the other side, where I was shocked to see small children playing on the edge of the water. However, Mitzi informed me that no child had ever been attacked by a croc in these waters. Hmm. I am not convinced.
The croc water, the "taxi boat" is the small boat in the water with the roof.On the other side of the croc water was a fishing town. Most of the men who live in this fishing town work on a fishing boat for a couple of months, then come home for a couple of months; thus there were lots of people around. Great, more people for Mitzi to make me to talk to. In my conversations I found out that the government owns some of the property along the shoreline (no surprise) and that you don’t ever go fishing when there is a full moon as the fish don’t bite. (I am going to have to verify that with my friend Andrew, as I am not sure I believe it.) Mitzi also pointed out the amount of poor people/dilapidated houses with satellite dishes on the roof for cable. Just like home.
We walked past a small school and I asked Mitzi if it was fine for us to enter the property. As Mitzi’s husband is a principal of another school, and has worked in various schools, Mitzi knew some of the teachers and so we went in. Seeing this school was a reminder to me that I am living in a 3rd world country; it is an easy thing for me to forget on the beautiful property that I currently call home. Then I see these kids, whose “playground” literally consists of only dirt and whose classrooms have mostly barren walls and the reality sets in.
The kids (not surprisingly) were just as cute as could be, posing for pictures (and then wanting to see them immediately) in their cute little school uniforms. We didn’t stay long, as we didn’t want to interrupt their lessons, but it made me realize how much I want to volunteer with a school here as soon as my Spanish classes are done.
The buildings you see are the bathroom, the cafateria and a classroom. This dirt area is their playground.
The last stop of the day was to the bank as Mitzi had some business to take care of. There was a long wait at the bank, however it was air conditioned, with places to sit, so no complaints from me. While I have attempted to use ATM machines here (sometimes successfully, sometimes not… can’t explain it, it appears to be another “benefit” of living in a 3rd world country), I had not yet been inside a bank.
Upon entering the bank I was asked to remove my sunglasses by an armed man; granted, he didn’t point the gun at me when making this request, but I certainly wasn’t going to challenge him. The banking process in Costa Rica seems to take forever; I am not sure if it is due to slow computer systems, but there is some serious room for improvements in efficiency.
When you enter the bank you take a ticket (like you would at a deli) and wait for them to call your number. While there is a separate line for the elderly, pregnant and disabled, nothing else seems to get you preferential treatment, not even if you are a police officer. However, there is some sort of underground number exchange that goes on, which I can’t explain… but, while Mitzi “picked” number 78, she somehow ended up with number 30 a few minutes after we sat down. Puzzling, but probably saved us 2 hours, so who am I to question.
I would have taken a picture in the bank for all to see, but as the man with the gun asked me to remove my sunglasses, I was pretty sure that taking a picture would get me thrown in the slammer. Now that would be Spanish immersion in the greatest sense of the word. No thanks, I’d rather swim with the crocs.
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