As you know from an earlier post, I was generously invited to the farm of Enrique, who is one of German’s good friends. He is also the guy who helped to give me “street cred” in downtown Quepos yesterday. We were invited to spend a Sunday at his farm, and Mitzi asked me if I wanted to come spend the night at her house on Saturday night, as it would make it easier to head out early in the morning. As we have moved into the season where it sometimes rains in the afternoons, it is wise to get your activities in earlier in the day.
Saturday night German and Mitzi came to pick me up, and I am pleased to say that we had a very uneventful drive to Parrita, after stopping to pick up Yuli… who lives farther out than you could ever imagine. Thank goodness I am now at the point where I don’t fear being murdered when with Mitzi and German. And after the drive to Yuli’s, I now know the perfect place to hide a body if I chose to kill someone.
When we arrived at Mitzi’s house, we started chopping up a bunch of fruit for a fruit salad. I assumed this fruit salad was for the following day, but as it turned out, it was for that evening. Here is something you should know about my life in Costa Rica, about 80% of the time I am with the Ticos, I have NO idea what is going to happen next. I have come to the determination that Ticos must all be telepathic because often I don’t hear any conversation, not just that I don’t understand the conversation (though that is also often the case) I mean no one talks; yet, everyone knows what we are about to do and acts accordingly. Me, I just follow along. I have become a follower for the first time in my life (unless you count wearing shoulder pads and blue mascara because I was definitely a follower then… but I learned my lesson, and hopefully there is no photographic evidence left). I am sure that engaging in a “follower” role is good for me. As someone who is generally a control freak, having to step back, follow along and just go with the flow is a growing experience for sure. I have also found that in many ways this role is more relaxing; it is much easier to be someone who just goes with the flow than someone who needs to plan and coordinate everything.
After we were finished chopping the fruit, Mitzi said “come on Becca” and started heading out the front door. Um, ok, where are we going? She said we were going to the corner store for ice cream. Ok, I like ice cream. We began to walk down the street, during which time, Mitzi made a variety of whistling sounds as we walked past her relatives’ houses. After she would whistle, I would hear another whistle from within the house in response. Very interesting. At first I wondered if it was some sort of mating call, but then quickly remembered that Mitzi is not a bird, is happily married, and equally important, these were her relatives (though not blood related, which in Texas means fair game, and in West Virginia means they are too far removed and not attainable). Then I thought, maybe these whistles are the “conversations” that I don’t hear, maybe this is how they always know what is going on when I don’t. After all, my Mother was exposed to German Measles when she was pregnant with me, and when I was growing up my parents often worried that I didn’t hear certain sound pitches (which often happens with an exposure to German Measles, and might also explain why my singing is so terrible).
So we bought ice cream at the small local store (not surprisingly owned by one of her husband’s cousins) and then headed back to Mitzi’s house, where on our way she whistled when we passed Jose’s house (German’s cousin who is also a teacher at the school) and he came out to join us; turned out he knew we were going to have ice cream and fruit salad. Apparently whistles express a lot... and while I don’t know the whistle for “come to my house and join us for ice cream and fruit salad”… I do know how to say it in Spanish, so that is good enough for me.
After Jose joined us, we went back to Mitzi’s for ice cream and fruit salad while we watched Titanic on TV. Turns out movies are about 15 years behind here too. About ¼ of the way through Titanic, again Mitzi started to head out the front door and requested that I come with her again. This time when I asked where we were going, Mitzi said to German’s aunt’s house to buy shoes. What?
Now believe me, I clearly understood the words for buying shoes (it is amazing that when I am talking with Ticos I only understand a fraction of what they say, but somehow I never miss the words for shoes, food, beer or wine), and was thrilled at the prospect, but had no idea what we were about to do. Keep in mind; it was now 10 o’clock at night. Was this some sort of a midnight madness sale, Tico style? Now this is my kind of slumber party… beans and rice for dinner, the freshest fruit salad you have ever eaten and now shoe shopping? This is what little girls’ dreams are made of!
So we walked a ½ block to her aunt’s house and into a small bedroom with about 10 people inside and shoe boxes all over the bed. As I was clearly the guest (turns out my tan is not as convincing as I thought), I was given the standing room position right in front of the fan. Delightful. Everyone was talking quickly, looking at and trying on belts and shoes, and having very animated discussions, most of which I didn’t understand… but here is the basic info I took away. Apparently his aunt drives to San Jose, buys various articles of clothing, and sells them locally. While there were in fact some very cute shoes, there weren’t any that I liked in my size… I think that is the first time I have ever walked out of a shoe store without buying something… though not really sure that counts as a store, so I don’t know if I can actually take credit.
Not long after we got home we went to bed as we needed to get up early for our day at the farm. We started our day with gallo pinto (I can not get enough of this stuff), then headed out for our day at the farm. After going to the grocery store for the necessities, we arrived at Enrique and Janet’s house. Again, I had no idea what was happening, so while this house had quite a big lot, I wasn’t sure it really constituted a farm. But what did I know; maybe it was a butterfly farm. We all sat down in chairs under a sort of covered car port and chatted for a little bit. But then we loaded up in the cars to head to the real farm, which as it turns out is Enrique’s parents’ farm (though his father died years ago). So we drove down some long and bumpy roads (my parents know just what I am talking about when I say long and bumpy, more about that in a later blog) before arriving at the farm.
As I told you before, it was beautiful property with every flower and fruit/vegetable imaginable. Here is a picture of the house, though I didn’t take the picture until we were leaving, so it was getting dark. Sorry.
By Costa Rican standards, this is a huge house, and I am sure that this family is considered to be very fortunate for the large amount of property they have. However, as is no surprise, there was no hot water and there was a wood burning oven, which was fascinating to see. Most Tico houses don’t have any oven, they cook on a small electric burner (kind of like a large hot plate), so seeing any oven at all was a surprise.
Janet showed us around the gorgeous property, and then we made snacks for everyone to munch on. We carried their very nice wooden dining room table out to the front yard, and all sat around the table to chat and snack. Marvin (Enrique’s nephew) came out and saddled up the horses for the kids to ride, which they did in the front yard for a little while before the women insisted that I go for a horse back ride with Marvin. While I knew I would enjoy the ride, I failed to predict the amazing discovery I would make while on the ride….
I have officially found the safest form of transportation in Costa Rica!!!
No prayers required!
No bus drivers fiddling with radio stations while we are sliding backwards down hill
No cars trying to run you off the side of the road while you are walking
No tires falling through bridge gaps
No parking breaks, stalling or failing windshield wipers
No sinking boats, no crocodiles
This was perfect! If I ever do decide to move here, forget the car, I am getting myself a horse! While I realize horses can be dangerous too, it just doesn’t compare to the other forms of dangerous transportation, and I think some sugar cubes and a few carrots would go a long way. Hey, if I was willing to bribe the customs officers, I am certainly not above trying to sweet talk a horse.
Marvin and I headed away from the house and up the road where we ran into a few of his friends/neighbors, though I saw no other houses, so I am not sure where they lived. We rode up along the road and next to the river, finishing by riding through their papaya fields and around the border of their property, which was gorgeous and far larger than I initially thought. At one point, Marvin reached up, pulled a papaya of the tree, opened it, split it in half, and gave half to me as a mid ride snack. Pretty wild. I wish I would have brought my camera with me on the ride, though I was riding in flip flops with foot rests that were too low, so I was lucky to just stay on the horse, let alone try to take pictures.
After we got back from our ride, the kids were anxious to get back in the saddle (pun intended), and they rode around the yard for hours, enjoying themselves thoroughly.
After eating a delicious lunch consisting of bbq’d meat, rice, beans, tortillas and vegetables (I should mention that here they eat sausages wrapped in tortillas, not on hot dog buns… really good, and less carbs. Genius!), Janet took me on another tour of the farm, explaining all of the various plants and flowers (you saw the pictures in the last farming blog). She is so kind and gracious, but I found myself saying “si, si” a lot, when in fact I wasn’t really sure what she was saying. But even if I was not able to get all the information, the sights were enough.She encouraged me to pick a papaya and warned me that the milk from the papaya was dangerous as it would burn your skin. Yikes. Luckily I knew the words for dangerous and milk or else I might have been in trouble.
After I picked the papaya, I did what I thought any good farmer would do, and started flicking the few ants off of the fruit. When Janet looked at the papaya she saw that it had a small “bad spot” on it, and told me that was not acceptable and I needed to toss it and pick a new one (turns out I am not a natural at fruit picking). I was really resistant to do that, and told her I would be happy to just cut off that edge, but she was absolutely insistent, so I left that one behind and picked a new and flawless papaya. Marvin then came down and joined us in the trees and reassured me that there were thousands of papayas, and that they just tossed the bad ones.
Here is a picture of Marvin, it is too bad I didn’t get a picture of him with his shirt off, because not only could you have seen the shaved armpits, but you could have seen his smokin’ hot body. (Sorry Les, I will try to do better next time!!) Marvin told me that he is looking for an American girlfriend, so if any of you out there are interested, let me know and I will see what I can do.
When we got back to the house, it was chicken feeding time, and certainly my experience of playing farmer Becca would not be complete without feeding chickens…so I was happy to volunteer. Turns out I am a natural. Granted, all it consists of is tossing seed…but regardless, I did a fine job. Farming is hard work people, and in that heat, it is darn near impossible."Farming with live animals is a 7 day a week, legal form of slavery." George Segal
And while I was an excellent chicken feeder, the experience was a little tainted because while I was feeding them, Janet explained to me that about once a week they killed one of the chickens by breaking their neck, to eat for dinner. Look people, I eat meat, and I love chicken, and I also think it is fine for people to raise animals and eat them; I just could have done without the graphic actions that her story involved. I am sure you can imagine what they looked like; I don’t need to explain them here.
After all the farm work was complete, Janet suggested that the ladies go on a hike, so she could show us the whole property. The hike ended up being the hardest work of the day, we hiked up, and up, and up some kind of muddy dirt clay roads, in flip flops, but the view at the top was worth it. It was amazing the amount of property this family owned. At one point Marvin showed up on the horse, so I took the opportunity to ride a little more and avoid a few of the large hills. Again, the safest form of transportation in Costa Rica and much less tiring than hiking uphill in flip flops.
Costa Rica is such a beautiful place.
When the horse began to eat this plant, it was a full plant... and was reduced to almost nothing. Guess carrying my ass all over the farm is a tiring job.
We wrapped up our day at the farm, but before I left, I had to get a picture of the hardest working woman I have ever seen, Enrique's Mom. I am not sure how old she is, but she did not stop working the whole day, and was so kind and gracious. When I thanked her for allowing me to come to her house, and told her how much I enjoyed myself, she told me that I was welcome anytime and asked me to please come back. You bet.
On a somber note, this post was hard for me to write today. My visit to the farm was 3 weeks ago. When I ran into Enrique downtown yesterday, he told me that the farm flooded during Alma (remember I told you that we rode horses along the river, they live right across the road from the river that caused the flooding) and they lost their ENTIRE crop of papayas (please refer back to the previous farm posting with a picture of the papaya trees). The house also flooded, but he said the house was now fine, as was his family. While this time of year tends to have some afternoon rain, no one was expecting the amount of rain we had during Alma. While it rains here a lot in September, October and November, May doesn’t usually bring this kind of weather… so you can’t plan for it.
Please keep Enrique’s family in your thoughts too. The good news is that he told me his house in Parrita didn’t experience any damage. They always find something to be thankful for.
And while I was an excellent chicken feeder, the experience was a little tainted because while I was feeding them, Janet explained to me that about once a week they killed one of the chickens by breaking their neck, to eat for dinner. Look people, I eat meat, and I love chicken, and I also think it is fine for people to raise animals and eat them; I just could have done without the graphic actions that her story involved. I am sure you can imagine what they looked like; I don’t need to explain them here.
After all the farm work was complete, Janet suggested that the ladies go on a hike, so she could show us the whole property. The hike ended up being the hardest work of the day, we hiked up, and up, and up some kind of muddy dirt clay roads, in flip flops, but the view at the top was worth it. It was amazing the amount of property this family owned. At one point Marvin showed up on the horse, so I took the opportunity to ride a little more and avoid a few of the large hills. Again, the safest form of transportation in Costa Rica and much less tiring than hiking uphill in flip flops.
Costa Rica is such a beautiful place.
When the horse began to eat this plant, it was a full plant... and was reduced to almost nothing. Guess carrying my ass all over the farm is a tiring job.We wrapped up our day at the farm, but before I left, I had to get a picture of the hardest working woman I have ever seen, Enrique's Mom. I am not sure how old she is, but she did not stop working the whole day, and was so kind and gracious. When I thanked her for allowing me to come to her house, and told her how much I enjoyed myself, she told me that I was welcome anytime and asked me to please come back. You bet.
On a somber note, this post was hard for me to write today. My visit to the farm was 3 weeks ago. When I ran into Enrique downtown yesterday, he told me that the farm flooded during Alma (remember I told you that we rode horses along the river, they live right across the road from the river that caused the flooding) and they lost their ENTIRE crop of papayas (please refer back to the previous farm posting with a picture of the papaya trees). The house also flooded, but he said the house was now fine, as was his family. While this time of year tends to have some afternoon rain, no one was expecting the amount of rain we had during Alma. While it rains here a lot in September, October and November, May doesn’t usually bring this kind of weather… so you can’t plan for it.
Please keep Enrique’s family in your thoughts too. The good news is that he told me his house in Parrita didn’t experience any damage. They always find something to be thankful for.
