Today is Sunday 10 Aug.
I´m still not sleeping well. My body seems to be going through a struggle right now with this readjustment. I really don´t travel well, it seems. There is a couple in the room next door and even though they are not especially noisy the walls here are very thin, so I hear almost everything. The earplugs help but I´m going to have to get used to other people´s noise. I am here in La Cuesta for another 24 days so I´m going to have to make the best of things while I´m here. I am of course looking carefully for symptoms of PTSD re-emerging. I think that as long as I don´t perceive myself as or behave like a victim I should do all right. Like instead of suffering in silence while the bathroom is occupied to use the next one available, that sort of thing. I am of course homesick and I miss being surrounded by my art. I miss my kitchen. I miss my bathroom. I miss having comfortable living space. I miss not having to guard my valuables. I miss the courtesy of other Canadians. Ticos are also courteous but in San Jose at least they do not make eye contact. I don´t know where I ever got the harebrain idea of living here. Since I´m not rich I could never afford to settle here and live comfortably. And to maintain good mental health I need my comfort zone. I also need to know when to step outside my comfort zone which is why I am here in Costa Rica.
Reviving and maintaining familiar routines from home seems to help. For example the way I get up in the morning. I have prayer while still in bed, get up, make my bed, brush my teeth, shave, trim my hair, shower, put on deoderant, dress in clean underclothes, dress myself, read the bible and God Calling. I am again putting on and tying my shoes while standing on one leg, and so on. It is strange being around people again. Some hotel guests are friendly, others, especially it seems if they are a couple, won´t give anyone the time of day.
Interesting that a lot of the wealthy homes here seem to decorate their front yards with razor wire. It´s been a fine, sunny day, all day today. I attended mass at two different churches, Santa Teresita, and Catedral Metropolitina. Both were full and these are big churches, the Cathedral being huge and cavernous. I was going to enjoy a cold drink at the cafe at the Grand Hotel, but they allow smoking there and one otherwise elegant woman quite smoked me out of the place. Ticos are very lax about many of the things that we up north have become positively anal about. This leads me to question the underlying philosophy of pura vida. It had been said over and over by way too many gringoes that Latino people enjoy and celibrate life in a way and with an intensity that is simply out of our depth. Well and good. but when this same celebration of life embraces or condones self-destructive behaviours such as promiscuous sex, drugs and rock and roll, smoking, booze etc. I really begin to wonder. Perhaps this is also because of my own life experience, both as a Christian and as a son of an alcoholic.
San Jose for me is a very noisy and dirty city. Piles of garbage everywhere. While I am fascinated by this new adventure, I will be glad to leave this berg behind. Neither do I envision living in rural Costa Rica. I would have to start again from the ground up in building a social network with no guarantee that this could develop for me. I think that CR will remain for me a nice place to visit and not a lot more.
There is a couple staying in the room next to me. I have nicknamed them ¨the Honeymooners.¨ Do the math. Hopefully the earplugs will be effective enough. I really need to start sleeping better. Of course it´s not happening, not because of noisy neighbours, but because being in a foreign country, my senses are all on high alert. This always happens when I travel by the way, even to quiet rural places. Too much stimulation I suppose. I hope this will be my last major trip. I hope I can remain satisfied with what I already have, where I already live, and whom I already am. Maybe this trip will do just that for me.
Today I walked in the north part of the city. I started at Parque Nacional, which is just up the hill from hotel de la cuesta. It is a beautifully laidout park that covers a full city block with a maze of walking paths throughout and lots of stately looking trees. The park is dangerous at night and there have been robberies and other violent incidents there. I stopped in the national library. There are no books there, as they seem to be moving to a new location. There is a lot of study space with open tables. Nearby I saw Parque Espana which is small but very beautiful and lush and well shaded, rather like the Bloedel Conservatory at Queen Elizabeth Park, but outdoors and cooler, and also Parque Morazon next to it which is more open. I stopped in an art gallery and there are paintings that explode with colour, including those of tropical birds. My paintings would fit nicely here I think, but I´m going to see what I can do in dull and dreary Canada which needs all the colour it can get. I had a nice chat with the lady who runs it. I explained to her that the Costa Rican accent is very new to my ears and thanked her for her gracious patience with me as we spoke in Spanish. From there I wandered northward, crossed the Rio Torres which is quite impressive with its cataracts and the beautiful lush bamboo and other foliage on its banks. Then I was caught in a wasteland of highways and suburban strip mall ugliness, then wandered through a rather slummy looking barrio. I eventually found my way to an abandoned railroad track, that seems much like the Arbutus Corridor. I wandered along it, hoping that I wasn´t lost. I eventually found my way to Calle 15 which led me back to Parque Espana where I began.
By the way, I noticed yesterday that the university is surrounded by a chain link fence and it seems almost impossible to get in or out without authorization. I read recently that there had been a huge riot by students there because some of them weren´t allowed in for a rock concert. So, are they protecting the students or is that fence meant to protect everyone else.
I stopped at the hotel briefly then went downtown in search for a newspaper. It turns out that La Nacion, which is the national daily of Costa Rica, costs 200 colons or less than 40 cents Canadian. From there I stopped in the cafe Arco de Iris...it means Rainbow in Spanish... to read the paper, drink coffee ...I´m sticking to decaf, by the way, and ended up having lunch as well as it was soon pouring rain outside, so I stuck it out for refuge, given that I had forgotten my umbrella...well, I can´t say I forgot it, I simply assumed that I wouldn´t need it since yesterday was so beautiful. The cafe, speaking of beautiful, is on the main floor of one of the most beautiful heritage buildings in San Jose, El Teatro Nacional, which is the local concert hall. It was actually imported from somewhere in Europe, I think France or Belgium, in the late 1800´s, piece by piece, and was assembled here. It is ornate Beaux Artes era and style of architecture, with statues and marble and columns everywhere. While I´m on about cheap prices, for a decaf americano, quiche with salad, and mineral water I paid around 9 bucks Canadian. And this is a classy joint. Not bad eh. Outside the Teatro Nacional is a huge square swarming with pigeons, kind of like Trafalgar Square without the fountain. I returned to the hotel, picked up my umbrella, and went out walking again. I wanted to check out that abandoned railroad track some more to find out how far it would take me. I was afraid I´d turned up the wrong street, so I asked a couple of Ticas..they seemed to be a mother-daughter act ...in Spanish if this is 15 street...Este es calle quince. Now, I know that my spoken Spanish is quite good, even if it still needs work, but this girl, 18, I think, said in halting English, I don´t understand you. Now I had heard her speaking Spanish already with her mother, and her accent was clearly Spanish. So I asked her in English, then again in Spanish. She said yes, it was 15 Street. So I kept walking, with the distinct feeling that I was getting lost. So I found my way back, encountered the mother daughter act again, and I said sharply to the daughter, Por favor no me mintas, or, please don´t lie to me, and she sharply turned her face away. I have been told that nothing is so insulting to a Tico or a Tica as to be openly confronted when they have deceived you, and Ticos I have also heard can be notorious liars. Funny that just before that encounter I had overheard a conversation between two other young women walking past me, where one was saying to the other, Los viejos son feos que llamen, or The Old men are ugly, who call. Well, I´m not exactly young, but there isn´t a lot of math to do here. There has been a plague of sex tourists in Costa Rica, mostly middle aged or older men from rich countries in North America and Europe who come to this country on sex tours and it´s disgusting pervs like those assholes who have given respectable and innocent single men of a certain age ...there are a few of us around... a really bad rap, so I shouldn´t be surprised if I´m not exactly greeted in this country with open arms.
I did find my way to the track, and walked it for a while, then went up to the street and got thoroughly lost. By this time it was pouring but I had my umbrella with me. Finally, up on a highway that made me wonder if I was somewhere in Burnaby or Surrey, I stopped in a store for directions. The guy there suggested I wait at the bus stop across the street.
My first busride in San Jose was pleasant. The fare is 165 colons, or about 20 cents Canadian. The interior has shabby upholstered seats, but comfy, and it gave me a much better look at San Jose, particularly as we were driving through poorer, working class barrios. These are things that the tourist and travel agencies don´t tell us about of course, and I think it´s worth the effort of any traveller to acquaint themselves with the social realities of any country they happen to be visiting. It seems to me that being a tourist is one of the ultimate desplays of consumerism, and it would be nice if more travellers were challenged to look for more ways of giving back...besides through the big bucks they spend in hotels and casinos...to their countries of destination. Fortunately there is a growing trend in this direction. I think if any of you does a Google search for ethical tourism, you will probably find more information.
I got off the bus in downtown San Jose, and was a bit lost, so I asked a man in Spanish...Que calle es este..or what street are we on. He asked me to say it in English because he didn´t speak Spanish. We had a nice chat. He´s an American who says he lives now in Costa Rica and had also lived for ten years in Honduras. Now what´s wrong with this picture...simply that after all these years of living in Spanish speaking Latin America he still doesn´t speak the damn language. He also mentioned that Americans think very highly of Canadians. I replied that a lot of people seem to think more highly of us Canadians than we do. I didn´t mention to him how thoroughly patronizing his remark was, but it didn´t seem to matter and it was nice connecting to a friendly stranger, if only for a few seconds.
I got lost again today, and this time it felt a bit scary because I found myself in a slummy area just south of the Coca Cola Bus Terminal. They call it Coca Cola because this was once the site of a bottling plant, and Ticos tend to use landmarks more than street names to identify and locate places. In fact, most of the streets in this city aren´t marked, which is why I always seem to be getting lost here. I did run across some beautiful heritage buildings. I only clued in today that I am just down the street from the legislative buildings so I explored that area which brought me to a beautifully paved pedestrian mall lined with palm trees, the Museum of Costa Rica which I will visit, eventually, and what appears to be the presidential palace, or something like that. It is this massive, ornate mansion worthy of Shaughnessy or South West Marine Drive painted in blue and white. Nearby is also an old tower and fortress remnant which I think date back a couple of hundred years or so. Well, I kept walking, and as I said I got lost but the colour and vibrancy contained in the surrounding squalor brings to mind the lines from the old Leonard Cohen song, Suzanne... ¨Suzanne takes your hand, and she leads you to the river, and she´s wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters, and the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour, and she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers, there are heroes in the seaweed, there are children of the morning, and they´re leaning out for love, they´ll lean that way forever, while Suzanne holds the mirror."
On a sidewalk a young male panhandler with a black puppy asked me for ciento colones, senor... one hundred colons, sir. I said no...he asked for fifty. Disculpa, I said, which means sorry. Then he asked for thirty. I barked back, ¨NO me pruebas¨. or don´t test me. Later I sat in another church, gothic style which is unusual for San Jose, and it´s called La iglesia a las mercedes, or something like that. Very ornate inside. Then I walked along the mall, and gave a disabled lady sitting on the pavement some coins. When I replied, God bless you, in Spanish, she said something about her life being cursed, or something like that. I find Costa Rican Spanish very hard to understand. At first I thought she was being ungrateful to me and wanted more, but I think it´s more that she was justifiably complaining about the bitter reality of her life. I know that we have been warned as tourists not to give to beggars, and usually I don´t but sometimes the situation seems to demand it. And also, I need to give, and not just to an anonymous poor box, which I also do, but to have actual contact with another human being. It doesn´t matter to me if they´re grateful or not, because I´ve been there myself. Also, there are times that God simply will not release his spirit in us until we have given from our hearts. After picking up some batteries for my discman in a department store, I stopped in Metropolitan Cathedral for the tail end of mass. Then I sat in Arco Iris de Cafe again to read La nacion newspaper. From there I stopped to pick up groceries and now I´m back at the hotel. More later.
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This moring over breakfast I visited more with Bart, a hotel guest from Holland. He has been dating a Tica for some months and she seems to be ending the relationship. His descriptions of her and their situation I found a bit illuminating, especially the distaste Ticos have for open conflict and their inability to cope with their own anger except through alcohol or passive aggressive behaviour. While they were in the heat of an argument last night she was suddenly text messenging her mother to tell her that they were fighting. Tico families are very close and somewhat ingrown. Most Ticos count their siblings and their parents as their best and sometimes only real friends.
I walked south today in search of a large park called Parque de la Paz. I got lost again and ended up on the Autopista or freeway. I retraced my steps, and eventually found my way to the park. What a sorry disappointment. It was I thought very badly laid out, scrubby looking and hardly enough trees. It was large, about the same size as Queen Elizabeth Park or bigger. In front is a monument with a bronze..I think...plaque that says in Spanish that Peace knows no borders. All the letters have been removed, presumably stolen, that make up the words ¨la paz¨and several other words are missing letters. I made my way back to downtown, passing yet another very slummy neighbourhood. I stopped in a bakery for a cold drink, and just when the server took my order, a rather stout Tica matron... they tend to be built like brick shithouses over here...barged in front of me with her purchase of pastries. So, I gave up and left, still thirsty. Eventually I bought a bottle of apple juice in another cafe and the serving woman was almost apologizing for the price, which I thought was reasonable, so I told her, no importa, no soy tacano, which means, don´t worry, I´m not a cheapskate. When I arrived downtown there was a middle aged man in a car shouting verbal abuse and obscenities at this other fellow on the sidewalk further back. He drove slowly and carefully so he could continue launching his volley of verbal abuse. I recognize some, but fortunately not all the words he was using.
Here, I think, is where Costa Ricans and Canadians are a lot alike. Internationally we each enjoy a stellar and stainless reputation....somewhat tarnished for us Canadians these days I´m afraid.... for being peaceful and peace loving people. But we are not all faithful to the myths we have created for ourselves, are we?
At one point I was muttering that the Costa Ricans can take their shitty little country and stick it up their ass for all I care. But I have often enough used the same words and worse for our own dear little Canada. And both countries have so much to offer and have already offered so much to the world.
I am soon going to be going on bus excursions outside of San Jose to explore some of the smaller towns and the surrounding mountains.
This morning an American guest from San Jose California and I walked up past Rio Torres together, then boarded a bus, destination unknown. We went some distance up into the hills. When we boarded, I wasn´t sure what the driver was asking for fare... as well as the accent being difficult for me to understand, I still get confused when I hear Spanish words for numbers being spoken. I had trouble digging out the change because I had put it in a very deep and tight pocket and almost ended up sitting on the young lady in the seat behind me. She graciously offered me her seat so I could more easily dig for the change. Then the young woman across the aisle offered to help me with bus fare. I thanked her and graciously declined, but finally came up with the right currency. The bus took us through a number of different suburbs, streets, houses, stores, parks, churches and all the etceteras and lots of different people to eavesdrop in Spanish. Ticos are quite warm towards one another, the women kiss each other on the cheek and the men often embrace each other. Back in San Jose, Bick and I walked and browsed around then had lunch in a local cafe in the area known as the Gringo Gulch, because a lot of retired Gringos live in the area near the hotel. I mentioned that I seldom see Gringos in the area and he replied that they´re all in the casinos. After lunch, Bick returned to the hotel and I did my own walk about. I felt a bit lost, so I stopped inside Catedral Metropolitana for prayer and silent reflection. Then I went walking some more in the poorer barrio downtown trusting God to lead me. Eventually I discovered two places I have been wanting to know. One is the location of the Anglican Church in San Jose, and the other is the bus stop for the buses to Cartago where I would like to visit tomorrow or Saturday. I returned to the hotel, then went out again on another walk about, wandering aimlessly in a new neighbourhood. There is razor wire everywhere.
I returned to the hotel to work on a drawing. I have a favourite perch for doing this. It is on the veranda, which is now indoors, overlooking the dining room. The dining room has these huge windows that look out on a luxuriant garden of tropical flowers and plants, and some very squalid and delapidated buildings and structures. I have not yet bothered to draw anything uniquely Costa Rica and I am working on a portrait of a peacock. Later I went for a walk before sunset. I was accosted near the government buildings on the pedestrian mall by a young boy of maybe 8 or 9 with his mother and younger brother. I found his Spanish hard to understand so his mother came in and explained clearly, also in Spanish, that they were poor and hungry and could I help with some money so they could buy milk and beans and fruit, etc. Naturally I felt reluctant because of all the warnings they issue the tourists, but I thought, to hell with it, reached into my pocket and gave them 1,000 colons, which is about 2 bucks Candian. Of course, Canada isn´t a lot better, and I dread what could happen if we continue to let the greed in our society spiral out of control leaving yet more and more of our poor vulnerable to this and many other indignities.
I returned to the hotel to work on a drawing. I have a favourite perch for doing this. It is on the veranda, which is now indoors, overlooking the dining room. The dining room has these huge windows that look out on a luxuriant garden of tropical flowers and plants, and some very squalid and delapidated buildings and structures. I have not yet bothered to draw anything uniquely Costa Rica and I am working on a portrait of a peacock. Later I went for a walk before sunset. I was accosted near the government buildings on the pedestrian mall by a young boy of maybe 8 or 9 with his mother and younger brother. I found his Spanish hard to understand so his mother came in and explained clearly, also in Spanish, that they were poor and hungry and could I help with some money so they could buy milk and beans and fruit, etc. Naturally I felt reluctant because of all the warnings they issue the tourists, but I thought, to hell with it, reached into my pocket and gave them 1,000 colons, which is about 2 bucks Candian. Of course, Canada isn´t a lot better, and I dread what could happen if we continue to let the greed in our society spiral out of control leaving yet more and more of our poor vulnerable to this and many other indignities.
Dawn, Friday, 15 Aug. It helps to be an early riser around here, as my part of the hotel is quite full and we have one bathroom being shared by five of us right now. I have found that if I discipline myself to retire early, as I do at home, that my sleep needs tend to look after themselves and then I´m up at the crack of dawn, which gives me a bit of a head start on others. Also, this is the only functioning computer right now in the building so I can also gain easier access in order to properly think and write these things out. I just received last night an email from one of my colleagues in mental health work, Barb, who said ¨Costa Rica is supposed to be one of the most beautiful places to visit but I don´t think that includes San Jose.¨ I would say that this also holds true for our own city, Vancouver, in relation to our province. Of course, Vancouver has some advantages... it is a well planned city, with an abundance of parks and beaches, quiet streets and a beautiful natural setting. But we also have the Downtown Eastside. This highlights for me one of my pivotal reasons for coming here to Costa Rica in the first place. Given how much we from British Columbia, and in many ways, the rest of Canada, share in common with the Ticos, this is an ideal place to visit in order to know our own situation a bit better. Both Canada and Costa Rica are globally renouned for their steps forward in peace... though, since 9 11 Canada has really disgraced itself in these matters. Canada became famous for its initiatives in peace keeping. Costa Rica abolished its army in 1948...They are both countries with tremendous unspoiled natural beauty... I described B. C. to Alvaro, who works here at the hotel, as Costa Rica with winter. I wasn´t sure if he liked the analogy. Also, like the Ticos, and like every other country on earth, we live in a state of chronic cognitive dissonance between our cities and our natural environment. I find this particularly pronounced here in San Jose. First, the traffic. I have never seen in a city so much unchecked vehicle emission. On almost every street it seems the traffic is heavy. The noise and din are such that it is almost impossible to have a conversation on the street. I have heard that when there is no wind, the air quality here is very poor. Add to this the poverty and crime and you see a situation that is very much at odds with the Costa Rican myth. The same holds true in Canada, notably in cities like Vancouver and Toronto.
As a Christian I have long believed that we humans have a special call and responsibility from God to be faithful stewards of his creation. We have largely defaulted in this obligation. During my stay here in Costa Rica I want to study this more, this condition of disharmony that we still accept as the norm. I think it´s great that both in Canada and in Costa Rica that people are taking serious steps towards addressing the environment. I see these as baby steps. ¨You come a long way from St. Louie but you still got a long way to go.¨ I think that a lot of work needs to be done to motivate us as individuals and collectives to address and challenge our greed and our sense of entitlement that has turned us into such egregious spoilers of our planet. What this comes down to, essentially, is recognizing that we are also part of the environment, and to learn ways of reducing our impact on the biosphere, since we are also impacting on ourselves. My guess is that we are going to have to work harder at reevaluating our needs and to find ways of balancing our needs with the rest of creation. This reflects of course on mattters that are often uncomfortably close and dear to us...our cars, for those of us who drive, the way we heat our homes, for those of us who have homes, our use of technology and industry... here´s an elephant in the room for you, how much energy gets used up on the use of computers, and for that matter, what are some of the environmental and public health impacts from wireless communications...or the way we eat and purchase food...the way we treat one another, how we view material wealth, why we permit some in our societies to go without the most basic necessities, why we accept and actively encourage systems of government and economic strategies that only encourage greed and exploitation of the earth and humans. We need also to challenge and undermine our own self'perception as consumers. When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping....Shop till you drop... these became popular catch phrases under the U.S. Reagan Administration, whose presidency did more than any others to open the floodgates of unchecked global capitalism, and this also brought about two of my favourite samples of graffiti in Vancouver from the same era... Money doesn´t talk, it screams...The urge to buy terrorizes you.
Even though Costa Rica is still a developing country, for Latin America it has quite a large middle class, and plenty of disposable income. I have heard of, and I have observed, a lot of materialism here. Even though this is a Roman Catholic country, so to speak, Ticos tend to be very secular. Nothing wrong with this mind you, but when the lack of religious belief or spiritual awareness and grounding lead to the kind of mindless and empty consumerism that we know only too well in North america then I think that we really need to re-examine some of our values.
It seems to me that we are like bacteria on this planet, and bacteria can play one of two essential functions...either it is going to protect and enhance its host, or it is going to undermine and destroy it.
Friday afternoon.
I just spent a few hours in Cartago, a small city that is less than an hour´s drive from San Jose. It was a nice change with less traffic and crowds, but still no easy access to the forest. I wandered to the outskirts where I was greeted by a sprawling slum of scrap metal shacks and stray dogs. Still I have noticed that even the very poor Costa Ricans seem decently turned out, though who knows what they end up having to sacrifice in the way of daily necessities, or what they have to do to augment their income. Cartago has a huge Cathedral called Basilica de Nuestra Senora de los Angeles, or the Basilica of Our Lady of the Angels. It is topped with domes and cupolas and it is vast. The interior is all wood with soaring pillars and skylights and imposing stain glass windows and shrines. This is a place of pilgrimage and I saw many people aproaching the altar on their knees. Well, I guess some Ticos are more secular than others. I also encountered the ruins of the original cathderal. It was toppled several times by earthquakes after its original construction in the late 1500´s. Now, only the walls exist. A garden of trees and flowers has been planted in its interior, but unfortunately there is no access. Every entrance is obstructed by wrought iron bars. It was quite a moving experience for me, seeing this. I have long had an idea of the traditional church as being in a state of ruin and that it would be folly to try to rebuild it. What we can have instead, is new life flourishing amidst the ruins. I also wonder if this metaphor could be extended to our approaches to mental health care and therapy?
Leaving Cartago on the bus ,which cost maybe 90 cents Canadian, I thought at times that I was back in B.C., with all the pine trees and the mountains. I had to remind myself that I´m still in Costa Rica.
Saturday, 16 August, 2008
I am again in Alajuela for the first time in fourteen years. I hardly recognize the place. But I was here for only four days It seems bigger, but all the buildings are old so it can´t have grown. Also more crowded, and much shabbier than I remember. There seems to be more visible poverty than in 94. What has happened during this time. I don´t believe that Costa Rica hasn´t been always like this. Something has changed here much as it has changed in Canada.
We can´t just say cultural differences or that we have to cleanup our own backyard before we criticze others. We sometimes have to see and evaluate what others are doing in order to know ourselves and our own situation better. What I want to know is this... What has globalization done to us. How has it been affecting our lives, yes here in Costa Rica, but also in Canada. I see a pattern forming here for me. The Ticos, like the Canadians, tend to be shopaholics. I have noticed more than 14 years ago here in Alajuela a much livelier, much more intense bustle of consumerism. A store offering housewares and appliances now operates where once stood the hotel I was staying in back in 94. There are many hawkers of lottrery tickets on the sidewalks here, as in San Jose. I did not see this 14 years ago. The world has changed in the last dozen years or so. Tremendously.
Finally the cathedral is open again though today there are workmen inside doing renovations. It was badly damaged in the earthquake that struck in the early 90´s,and it wasn´t open on my first visit.
Still the general population seems, if not overly prosperous, at least reasonably content and well fed and well'dressed. Once again none of the streets are marked so I have to go by landmarks in order to find my way around.
My Spanish isn´t as good as I´d like it to be, but I´m able to get by okay. Slowly I´m acquiring an ear for the Tico dialect, but it´s still difficult for me to speak spontaneously to strangers. Sitting down with a friend for a prolonged conversation in Spanish is different. I´m more comfortable, more relaxed and considerably more fluent then.
I´ve noticed so far that bus drivers in Costa Rica tend to be quite rude and churlish. They make our transit operators in Vancouver look like Gandhi or Mother Teresa by comparison. On the longer distance buses they have piped in music, so I was hearing salsa and meringue all the way to Alajuela and back. Generally Ticos seem reasonably nice, much like Canadians. But no one seems to say excuse me or expect it when people jostle each other on the street. Perhaps there´s no need to as people seem to presume well of one another here.
After I left the soda where I was writing this account, I went wandering into a wealthy new subdivision with big monster homes as ugly as the ones in Vancouver and wide quiet streets. From there I found my way into a coffee plantation where I wandered enjoying my first real quiet walk since I arrived in San Jose. I found my way onto another street in a different rich neighbourhood...I´m sure this place didn´t exist here in my last visit...where one of their security guards tactfully helped me find my way back to downtown Alajuela. I stopped in the cathedral again.
There was a mass with beautiful singing. I stayed for part of it, then found my way back to the bus station.
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