It´s hard to write about nothing, but that is exactly what happened to me today in Monteverde. Nothing. I walked over to the shopping centre in Santa Elena where I bought a large bag of mixed nuts and four packages of M and M´s to replenish my jar of trail mix. It´s about a three mile hike, maybe a bit further. And those hills! I´m still not used to them. I feel like I´ve lived here for a long time, even though it´s just been three weeks and a day or two. But I have also been here three times before. One of my friends reading this blog just sent me an email and says that this seems to be the first vacation I´ve been on in a long time where I´m actually happy. This is true, though I do treasure some of the memories of the other places I´ve been to. I suppose it would help if I were to clarify something about my motive for travel. Comfort and enjoyment aren´t really my first priorities. Improving my Spanish and learning more about how people live in contemporary Latin American countries are the priorities. I also always travel on a tight budget (my stagnant wages where I work are less than two bucks above minimum, so that´ll give you a clue) , which means that I have to accept trade-offs, inconveniences and discomfort, though not always. And when I have the opportunity to really enjoy things, then there´s no stopping me. It is still worth it, though this year I am glad to have a break from my usual if it doesn´t kill me it will make me stronger style of travel. But if there´s such a thing as a typical tourist, then I´m not it.
Honestly, I hear more English being spoken in Monteverde than in my own city of Vancouver. I am not making this up, Gentle Reader, and from all the English I hear spoken around here I sometimes wonder if my Spanish is suffering, though I speak a lot of it every day here. There is one restaurant cafe I like to do art in sometimes. It has table service and the waiters all wear the same olive green t shirt. It has a laid back kind of ambience, and seems like the ideal sort of place for getting over a hangover. Apart from the staff, almost everyone was speaking English. Or French. It was as though I hadn´t even left Canada. There was a table of more than ten young Americans, perhaps with an average age of twenty, which is to say that they could be my grandchildren! I have to admit that, with certain exceptions, I don´t really find young people that interesting. Unless they are bright, asking a lot of questions and are particularly interested in doing something good in the world.
Later, in the Soda, in Gringolandia in Exile, there was a huge group of Swedes, Americans and one Costa Rican. They all looked like upper middle class universty grads out trying to revive the Summer of Love while having their lovely tropical country slumming experience. Or, perhaps they are working in environmental studies. I didn´t ask them and they didn´t seem to know, much less care, that I was there, and a captive audience to their conversations. And they were all speaking English with just a token smattering of Spanish, but at least they were trying a little. And they also seem like authentically nice people. Anyway, I´m determined to keep speaking Spanish, regardless, for the remaining time I am here.
It is a truly beautiful day here, today. I am looking at the changing light on the trees and foliage outside the windows here as the sun gets ready to set. Everything is incandescent with solar splendour. I also had a lovely break seated on the best benchview of the lookout point. I have been trying to get a better idea of the trees that grow here, there are so many different kinds, and each produces leaves a different shade of green.
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