San Jose, Costa Rica -- night

All my previous entries had been written in the home of my cousins, Carlos and Marlen, located in Moravia, a suburb of San Jose, the capital city. As I write this I am sitting in the living room of my Tia Zahyra and her daughter my cousin, Yorlen. They live in San Francisco, another suburb of San Jose.

Today was a somewhat productive/constructive day. In the morning, after breakfast, I spent an hour and a half in an internet cafe, one hour of which I needed to write an email to my father. I hadn't communicated with him in any way since my conversation with him from Paul's cell phone from an Italian restaurant right by Times Square on the night of December 2, 2002. Hence, I typed for one hour non-stop to relay my activities and to express my thoughts. After that, I killed another half-hour by checking some music and football websites.

Later, after lunch, I took a solo trip by bus to San Jose, centro, to visit the Museo del Oro. Since there is a difference in payment depending on whether one is a national or a foreigner, I played it off as if I was a national by immediately offering the 1000 colones entrance fee for nationals. As the girl in the ticket windown handed me my ticket, she asked whether I was a national. Truthful as always, I told her that I was half-Tico, half-Gringo, explaining that my mother was a Tica by birth from Guapiles. The girl told me to go ahead in, but I might have to pay the difference in case someone else found out. I thanked her and knew I was in.

I spent the next two and a half hours reading every sign and poster in the whole museum. I learned that the largest tropical rain forest in Costa Rica is the Corcovado, located in the southwest. It is also in this same region that much metallurgy in gold took place. The indigenous people of the region derived artisan and artistic influences from the region of northwest Colombia by way of the Isthmus of Panama. Similar to the Museum of Jade, the artifacts were mostly zooanthropomorphic, using especially the figures of alligators, jaguars, and birds as symbols of power and authority. I learned that the shamans were not only spiritual leaders, but by virtue of their spiritual wisdom, they were also the political leaders as well. Pre-Columbian society was largely agricultural and trade did exist among various tribes. The most advanced settlements were in the Southwest region already mentioned.

After the conquest and in more recent history, I learned that banana was the dominant product and international export from the 1820s until the 1970s. Prior to this time, coffee and sugar cane had been the primary exports. Nevertheless, coffee remained an important export.

Based on the brief knowledge I gained, it seems that a primary factor in Costa Rica not having a strong socialist movement in the 1960s and 1970s was due largely (and strangely enough) to its two-crop export economy. Throughout those decades, and in the decades prior, the revenue from exportation of coffee and banana was steady and stable. However, a drop in the international market for coffee in the 1970s, coupled with the 1979 international oil crisis, dramatically impacted the Costa Rican economy in a negative manner. The 1980s were a decade of high inflation, but the international atmosphere for socialist movements was already past. Focusing specifically on the Costa Rican economy, it only began to rebound significantly in the 1990s when tourism, specifically eco-tourism, replaced agricultural exports as the nation's primary source of revenue. Connected with that last point, the centimo disappeared in the latter years of high inflation, leaving the colon as the only form of currency. Currently the exchange rate is 377 colones to 1 North-American dollar.

Now, to re-cap my days from January 3rd to January 5th. I spent that time in Puerto Viejo, a town in the province of Limon. My cousin Yorlen accompanied me, or perhaps I accompanied her, I'm not quite sure which. Either way, it was a good experience. I was happy to have some one-on-one time with someone so that my slower Spanish was not deflected from the conversation. That is, she had no choice but to speak to me, and on the flip-side, I was forced to engage in conversation with her. It was a necessary challenge, and I can say that I feel more confident with my Spanish after those three days. I am very grateful for that time and I am happy to have gotten to know Yorlen much better. I am sure she has no idea how grateful I am to her.

Well, on to a description of Puerto Viejo. First of all, it is very caribeno. Most of the local population is of African descent. I ate several dishes of "rice and beans," which is exactly what it says, only it is cooked with coconut milk. It was absolutely delicious.

Our first night, Friday, we went to a pizzeria, where we nearly finished a large pizza along with splitting a container of one liter of red wine. Afterwards, we went to a beachfront club called "Bambu" which was packed to the rim with people dancing to reggae roots music. It was a cool scene. And definitely a lot of second-hand cheeba smoke.

On both Friday and Saturday days, I went into the Atlantic Ocean, which was quite energetic. Once on Saturday, a wave took me and slammed my ass onto the floor of the ocean. I guess nature put me in my place. I had fun though.

Saturday night was top-notch, though. Yorlen and I brought a bottle of red Chilean wine to sit on the beach under the starlight and facing the incessant waves of the Caribbean. As we drank the bottle of wine, we shared a habano. The whole mood and the whole atmosphere was just so pristine, so tranquil. It was the kind of night where the beauty of life was so palpable that one could not help feeling both happy and thankful.

The next day, Sunday, we walked along the beach and then sat for a while on a log, where I actually fell asleep for a short while. Before that, though, I should mention that we went to a butterfly garden. However, it was not that impressive so it is not worth any further explication. After our repose on the beach, we checked out of our room to catch the bus back to San Jose. It was a wonderful weekend.

And so now, here I am. Tomorrow I plan on visiting the campus of the Universidad de Costa Rica (U.C.R.) with my cousin Andrea. I think I will speak with the director of international relations. More simply, though, I just want to see the campus. I'll be sure to write again soon.