Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 26

It really feels like I´m winding down now. Today I purchased my bus ticket to Alajuela for Wednesday. Early Thursday I fly home to Vancouver and Friday I will be getting my ducks in a row. I can´t think of anything interesting that happened today, so I will try to fake it, just to have something to fill the page. I could say that I had a lovely walk, and saw three different morpho butterflies. I always feel blessed when I see them, they are so incredibly beautiful. There was one again hanging out at the entrance to the driveway to the Mariposa. He perched on a twig and folded up his wings. The undersides are dull brown with big eye-like spots to scare off would-be predators, so you can hardly see them. You can only really appreciate their full iridescent blue beauty while they´re in flight. I shook the twig to get him flying, and he did, then a car stopped so the people in it could also enjoy the beauty and one of them gave me a thumbs up, since I was also just standing there gawking. Then the morpho returned to land more or less in the same place as before. I am glad that I have my bus ticket now. This way it really feels like I am going home. Not that I´m in any hurry to leave. The beauty of this place never seems to pale on me. But I also accept that Monteverde is not, and likely never will be my home, and this for me is a good thing. You see, Gentle Reader, I cannot think of one single thing or talent that I would have to offer to the wellbeing of this community, which isn´t already happening here, and that for me is the litmus test for whether or not I should consider going anywhere. It seems that the first time I was here I was so enchanted by the place, and also so unhappy with my current living situation, that the very idea of resettling in a beautiful tropical country was downright seductive. I was thirty-eight at the time, and still living in Christian community, but it was also clear that our community was dying a slow and rather painful death. I was living with two rather difficult older women and we had taken on a very dysfunctional man as a roommate to help pay the rent. One of the women was particularly impossible, and one never knew what kind of curve ball or sucker punch she would be delivering next. When I returned from Monteverde following two weeks of bliss (being away from her was part of the enjoyment), she had imported her ex-boyfriend from the trailer park he was living in. Not a bad sort, but completely unsuited to our way of life, and unfortunately was being used by this woman as a pawn for gaining control over our community. And other stuff happened, which I will not go into. Well, needless to say, feeling that all my options at home were nearly exhausted, the idea of resettling elsewhere was very appealing indeed. Less than three years later, when a complete stranger gave me a Spanish-English dictionary on the street, not knowing a thing about my interest in learning the Spanish language, I took that as a sign from God that he still wanted me to move to Costa Rica and to learn Spanish. Well, I was half-right, and to this day I still strongly believe that he had guided that man to give me that dictionary, and becoming fluent in the language of Cervantes has definitely paid off in so many other ways. I still held dear the dream, or vision, of settling eventually in Monteverde, but my life was quickly going sideways instead of south. A huge cluster of trauma and bad luck left me unemployed, penniless and homeless in 1998. A year later, as I was slowly getting back on my feet, I seriously began to learn and study Spanish, and advanced quite rapidly in the language. I still held that dream of living in Monteverde. As my life began to move forward again, and I was enjoying decent housing and gainful employment, I also soon had a bank balance. I applied for a passport in 2007. The next year I returned to Costa Rica. That second trip cured me of my beautiful illusions, and I benignly accepted that I would likely never be living there, nor anywhere else abroad. Canada, and likely my expensive city of Vancouver, would always be my home, and that is a good thing. But I still wanted to explore other parts of Latin America as part of my exploration of the language of Octavio Paz. In 2009 I spent a month in Mexico City. The following year I returned to Costa Rica. I had a very curious experience staying in the bed and breakfast, the Mariposa (this is my third time here). I felt a connection of friendship to the family that runs the place, and definitely wanted to return there in the future. I returned to Mexico City and Chiapas in 2012 and Mexico City again in 2013, and Mexico City again and Puebla in 2014. The following two years I was in Bogotá, Colombia, twice, for a month each time. Feeling fatigued with holidaying in huge noisy cities and feeling like a crime target, I opted again for Monteverde last year. I stayed again at the Mariposa. It was even better than the previous time. This year I´m back. I like the people here at the bed and breakfast and would like to continue visiting. The natural beauty of this area still inspires and astounds me. I am also enjoying learning more about the people and the culture here. I will never live here. It is a nice place to visit. But, in a way, this place is becoming for me a second home. When I retire, I will not be allowed to live abroad for more than six months and still collect my pension, which also basically strands me in Canada. Worse things could happen. In the meantime, I can always come back here, every year, or every other year, as a (hopefully) welcome guest and friend.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 25

I spent the morning laying low. Except for a quick breakfast in the reception area, I stayed in my room, drinking coffee and working on a hummingbird drawing. I am still a bit tired from yesterday, but I have traced the source. It was´t so much family noise here at the bed and breakfast, but coping with a group of six very dominant and loud French people, all verging on seniordom. They´re probably very nice people, but the breakfast room is rather small and when you have six loud, strong people dominating the space, and they are not going to welcome anyone else into their little kingdom, well, they can be very daunting to be around. Especially first thing in the morning. So, three mornings in a row of those people must have helped wear me out. This is one of the downsides to budget travel: you get what you pay for, and if you have any extra sensitivity to noise or crowds, well, it´s Darwin 101, dude. Survival of the fittest. Travel can be challenging for anyone. If you are easily affected by noise and crowds, as I am, it can become particularly challenging. This is not going to stop me from travelling. It does challenge me to be a little more inventive about how I travel, and to be careful to pack my own little toolkit of wellness. Practicing wellness does not stop at the flight check-in, and I think this is something we all need to learn how to practice and master if we are going to get the most out of our vacations, and still arrive home looking at least a little better than our passport photos. I try to think of this time away as an opportunity for nurturing my own mental health, given that the other eleven months of the year I am constantly nurturing the psychic wellbeing of others. So, I turn into my client and I become my own personal peer support worker. It´s knowing when to step out of my comfort zone, and when to retreat back in, when to challenge my boundaries, and when to stay within them. It means applying just enough exposure therapy to myself till I almost hit breaking point, then to back off and hide in my room for a while. Then to know when it´s time to get out of my room again. So it´s this balance and rhythm of exercise and fresh air, rest, doing art, reading, spending time with other people, writing this blog, but doing everything in balance. Despite some of the difficulties yesterday, it was still pretty interesting and, at times enjoyable, especially for people watching. While indulging myself on the balcony of Café Caburé I was noticing a small family group. The male partner was built like an eighteen wheeler, with beard, mega tattoos and sunglasses. He looked like he didn´t quite know whether he was a hipster, a biker, or trailer park royalty. Likewise his partner. She was wearing those dreadfuilly tacky leotards that leave nothing to the imagination and far too many women seem to like to wear them in public these days, as though screaming in accents loud and shrill, ¨Ï have low self-esteem!¨ They had a baby with them, perhaps just under a year, and it was actually kind of touching seeing how tender and attentive the father was to his child, belying completely the toxic masculinity exterior. I think they´re both local people here. Later, in a resturant for dinner, I was approached by a Mexican woman who saw my sketchbook and seemed interested in what I was doing. She said she´s artistic but has trouble getting motivated, and I suggested that she stick with media and styles of art she enjoys but to also practice self-discpline. I hope she does okay. This morning I was still feeling a bit fragile from yesterday. It has been drizzling a lot today (rather appropriate for Good Friday) with sunny breaks. This morning, for two hours there was a nonstop rainbow in the garden just in front of my room. I wondered, and kind of hoped it was a sign from God. I should be careful with this kind of talk. They might diagnose me with something. Well, they can prescribe whatever they want for me, but no one´s going to make me swallow it! (and for your information, Gentle Reader, I am not, never have been, and hopefully never will be on any kind of medication, other than the thyroid supplement and the pill I take to keep the tumour from growing on my pituitary.) Then I saw something else on my way out. At the entrance to the driveway of the Mariposa (Spanish for butterfly), where I am staying, I saw a beautiful huge morpho butterfly, which then landed right next to the driveway. Then, in the reserve, I saw my first quetzals, a male and a female. So, yes, I am now really beginning to wonder what God might be saying to me through these little signs, and they can prescribe to me whatever the hell they want. They still can´t make me swallow it. Well, I just picked this up from Uncle Google: ¨Butterflies have long been associated with a deep and powerful representation of the soul and spiritual transformation. The blue color is often thought to symbolize healing, whether it be personal healing or the healing of someone close to you. Many natives of the rainforest see the “blue butterfly” as a wish-granter.¨ This about rainbows: ¨ What is the meaning of a Rainbow? Rainbows speak directly to our heart and soul, filling us with awe and energies of liquid love pouring all around us...¨ The quetzal, given it´s beauty, was sacred to the Maya, and is a symbol of freedom and divinity. So, if these three signs today, and this being Good Friday, when Jesus gave his life for us, then I´ll leave it for you, my Gentle Reader, to do the math and figure it out for yourselves. If you have any ideas, then please, comment by all means. It was a cooler and wetter day than usual in the cloud forest, with quite a few visitors, though I still enjoyed some long quiet stretches. I was there around two and a half hours. It was a lady in a group of Latinos who pointed out to me, very carefully and patiently, the two quetzals, male and female, attending to their nesting box. Words fail me to describe the beauty of those birds. The males are very attentive fathers, and this one went right into the nesting hole to nurture his young, his two long iridescent green tail feathers sticking out. When I came back, his two tail feathers were still sticking out, then he appeared. When he saw me looking at him he seemed a bit spooked and concealed himself behind a branch and I thought I might respect his space and move on. Later, I found a dry bench to sit on for a while, when a small, iridescent jade green beetle hopped into my knapsack. So, I emptied out my bag to help liberate the bug (who was actually quite beautiful, like a little jewel) He was on top of my Spanish New Testament. Then I saw a young couple come by and thought I would share my find with them, and they seemed quite intrigued. It turns out they are Canadians, from Winnipeg and complained that right now, March 30 it´s snowing and sixteen below. Then I complained to them about how impossibly expensive my dear Vancouver has become. Ah, so Canadian of us, to winge and complain about our respective cities like that. By the way, this is how I could tell they were Canadian. when I showed them the pretty green bug she said, ¨neat, eh?¨ Now you can´t get more Canadian than that, eh? One thing I really took note of today, while staring out at the cloud forest, is how many plants depend on trees and other plants to support and sustain them. Wow, this is so contrary to the kind of Darwinist dogma that the capitalists have tried to brainwash us with. The truth is, we all stand on the shoulders of giants, and for those of us with the stength and the ability to stand strong, straight and independent comes also the responsibility to support and nurture those who may not have that strength, but still have other gifts and beauty to contribute. This isn´t to say that Darwin was incorrect with his theory of evolution, of course he was right and in so many ways. But he was also a child of his age and was influenced by the biases of the Industrial Revolution, hence this survival of the fittest nonsense, when really, we are all in this together, integrated and interdependent in this complex and marvellous web. Even in my own life experience, in order to flourish and offer my gifts in the best possible way, I need to live in housing subsidized by taxpayers and be employed by our public health care system, paid for by...the taxpayers. None of us gets out of here without owing others. A big hug and a fistbump. Handshake, too.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 24

This has been a day of minor annoyances, Gentle Reader, but I would prefer to emphasize the positives in this blog. Beides, during the home stretch of these trips, my nerves are usually a bit on edge. Being Holy Week, or Semana Santa, of course a lot of families are out, which means more children and more noise. Here at the bed and breakfast, the owners are having family over for the week, there are a couple of small children and the noise gets overwhelming at times, which makes writing this blog a bit difficult, because the computer is in the reception area which is right next to the family´s living area, and I am feeling inhibited about asking them to keep the noise down in their own home. Fortunately, my room is in a different building which, despite the thin walls, is pretty quiet. I am also wearing earplugs right now, but the owner´s father has a very loud voice and they´re not that effective. This too will pass. I didn´t do much today. I did get a lot of art and some walking done. I´ve been reflecting today on why I don´t drive. Almost everyone who visits Monteverde rents a vehicle and uses the many tour buses to get around, as well as cabs. I seem to be the only one who walks everywhere. I did make a concrete decision when I was a teenager that I would never drive. I was so accident prone when I was young that I was sure that I would likely end my life as another highway statistic. I have also always been too poor to maintain a vehicle, so, so much for White Privilege. But there were other reasons as well. During the early seventies, people were already aware of the devastating effects of carbon emissions on the environment. I did not want to contribute to this mess. I have actually done okay without a vehicle. I think a lot of people would. Unfortunately, a lot of us are still brainwashed by a lot of bourgeois nonsense about pride of ownership, independence and personal power, and the advertising industry really cashes in on our vulnerability. Even now that the horse is out of the barn and we are beginning to experience catastrophic climate change the car companies and big oil and governments are pulling harder than ever to sell their toxic products and we just keep falling for it, not apparently caring that through our compliance we are helping destroy the planet, and the future of our children and grandchildren. Yes, I know it is a bit difficult doing everything on foot. I don´t get to see all the things nor visit easily all the places that tourists here are expected to see and enjoy. But there is a trade off. Going everywhere on foot seems to give me an intimate knowledge and understanding of the places I visit and the people who live there. Going slowly, I can observe and take more in. I can actually see and meet real live local people, and kind of watch them as they go about their daily lives. I can see and savour more details of the rich natural beauty of this place, not just in the tree museums, or the forest reserves, but throughout the area, while also getting a deeper and more instinctive understanding of the indelible relation between the people here and their natural environment. I know that my style of travel isn´t for everyone, but to every car owner reading this blog, may I present this little challenge: How important to you is the future of our dear Mother Earth, and what are you prepared to do to help slow the destruction that is being unleashed on our environment? How prepared are you to give up your precious car and accept perhaps a slightly humbler, but spiritually richer way of life, as a tradeoff? Or, you could always go electric, but right now, I am talking to those of you who are already leaving a large carbon footprint. A hug from Monteverde.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 23

It feels like Sunday today, even if it´s only Wednesday. I thought it was just me, but then I mentioned the same to the owners of the bed and breakfast and they told me that, yes, it does feel like Sunday today. This is Holy Week, or Semana Santa, and the whole week is a statutory holiday in Costa Rica. This of course has to do with the strong Roman Catholic heritage in this country, even if Costa Ricans are among the least overtly religious Latin Americans. I can´t remember the exact stats but a significant minority, over twenty percent of the people here do not profess any religious faith, other than making money, that is. Unlike in hyper-secular Canada, they still haven´t changed the name of the holiday to Spring Break, and they´d might as well, given how few really seem to observe the religious significance of this time. For me there have been no overt signs that it´s a holiday today, except maybe for the presence of more families in the Cloud Forest today. I don´t really know how I picked up the vibe, and I think it´s one of those things that can best be read intuitively. I should be careful about whom I say this around. I don´t want to get diagnosed with anything that I don´t have just for saying these sorts of things. I didn´t do much today. I was up super early, had coffee in my room, sometimes seated on the bench outside where I admired the garden in the developing dawn, otherwise I was on my bed working on a drawing. I thought of doing art outside but for some reason it usually doesn´t feel very comfortable. It could have something to do with not wanting to make myself vulnerable, or perhaps it´s more that I was just too absorbed staring blissfully out at the new day and the garden. Maybe a bit of both. It´s nice to have First World Problems, especially if, like me, you earn more of a Developing Country income. That would make kind of a cool comedy skit, in a twisted, black humour sort of way. Holding a contest for people on low incomes and the winner gets to enjoy one full week of First World Problems: like being served a martini that was made with the wrong brand of Vermouth, or winning a holiday in a tropical paradise where the all-inclusive doesn´t provide any vegan or Paleo options on the menu. Hey, Gentle Reader, how about writing in the comments section about your favourite First World Problems. The winner, provided you live in Vancouver, gets treated to coffee and a cheap dessert. For me, First World Problems were but an untouchable dream for all the years when I was wrapping myself around a telephone pole just trying to keep myself fed and a roof over my head, and I even ended up homeless for the better part of the year. Now that, thanks to subsidized housing and relatively stable (if obscenely undercompensated) employment, I seem to have just enough discretionary income so that sometimes even I get to enjoy having First World Problems. Oh, what was I missing! Now I can complain about my white extra old cheddar not being sharp enough, or winge about the discomfort of flying economy. On the other hand, I can afford cheese and air travel and maybe that´s where I should draw the line. Following breakfast, I did some work on a drawing, went down for a nap for about an hour and a half, then walked up to the reserve where I spent three hours today. The fellow who usually lets me in free is off today, but I asked the other worker to phone the bed and breakfast. Fortunately, one of their sons works at the reserve, and everything was confirmed, and I was let in without having to pay one single colon. I hiked some of the easier trails, and spent a lot of time sitting on benches, simply absorbing the incredible beautiful tangle of the web of life surrounding me. It was then, that I saw all this jumble of plants and other species together, not as a Darwinist cacophony of everything competing and lurching and struggling to survive, but as a grand and vast community of nature, where all life forms are integrated and interconnected and interdependent for their survial and wellbeing, and together help support and sustain one another in this beautiful miracle called life. All of us recieving the same oxygen, the same light and water, the same nutrients from the ground, and only that unfathomable biochemical miracle of DNA distinguishing each one of us from the others, but still, all together, not struggling, not competing, but thriving together as a supercomplex unity of diversity, and diversity of unity. It seems that we humans with our obsession with competition and capitalism are really uniquely out of synch with this beautiful truth about nature. Other humans on the trails seemed a little more absorbed in the wonder that surrounded them, which was nice to see. Still very few lone hikers, just me, and two other separate individuals I walked past. I really don´t know how I would be able to appreciate and absorb a place like the Cloud Forest with the distraction of friends and companions. Perhaps people feel more protected by one another from the terror of the beauty that surrounds us. There is a lot to take in, and there is also something about opening our inner selves to the nature around us that also forces us to become vunerable about our other issues, and very few people have time or the courage to walk this kind of psychological and spiritual labyrinth, and this I find to be really sad, because this is something that we all desperately need to do, if we are really going to become fully human. I am now back at the bed and breakfast, watching as the setting sun dazzles my eyes in the golden green foliage. The sky here, and the colours of nature, are the most sublimely violent and intense hues of blue and green. This beauty is almost exhausting.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 22

Gentle Reader, I am going to mention something right now that probably isn´t going to make me terribly popular with some of you, but it still needs to be said. This has to do with the kind of racism that I sometimes encounter in Latin Americans. Hello? Still with me? It certainly reared it´s head yesterday, and that was the particular situation that got me really annoyed. I refused to write about it while I was still upset, but now that I´m over it and have some perspective about what was going on, I feel more comfortable writing about it today. I was in the soda for a bite to eat. It is called La Cuchara de la Abuela, or Grandmother´s Spoon, though after yesterday I have renamed the place La Cuchilla de la Abuela, or Grandmother´s Knife. Here´s what happened. A very self-important looking young man who seemed to have connections with the establishment, maybe one of their investors, came in and acted like he owned the place. I suspect that he´s a bigshot from San José. I basically ignored him. Then his lady friend came in. Now both of them were young, around thirty or so, so young enough to be my kids (and I thank heaven they are not!). Anyway, she had that same bigshot swagger, and just as I was paying my bill, she butts in to make her order, and the stupid woman who worked there decided to interrupt our transaction in order to accommodate the little princess. So I said to the young woman, ¨Ya estoy pagando. Paciencia, por favor, chamaca.¨ Which is not a particularly tactful way of saying, hey, kiddo, I´m still paying, so be patient, eh? So, the stupid waitresss, instead of finishing with me, calls in her co-worker to take care of my transaction, since the princess from San José was obviously more important. As I was leaving, I said to the little princess, ¨Que aprendas buenas modales,¨ or may you learn good manners, and she smiled and retorted, ¨tu debes aprender buenas modeles por llamarme chamaca.¨ Or, you need to learn good manners for calling me chamaca. I replied quite sharply to her, ¨Soy tu mayor.¨ or basically, I´m old enough to be your father. Anyway, I might not go back there. But it also reminded me of this warning I have received from various reliable sources. In Latin American countries, and notably in Costa Rica, foreigners will be always made to feel like outsiders. I have found this in other Latin American countries, and sadly, even among some of my Latino friends. Being white and Canadian will always make me a second-class citizen as far as they are concerned, I will always have to make like I´m comfortable staying in the back of the bus if I want to be their friend, and their Latino friends are always going to get preferential treatment. I apologize to any Latinos reading this for taking offence, but this has been my experience. I have also noticed that a lot of Latinos are less than accepting towards other races and nationalities as well, and I have encountred downright hostility in some of them towards Asians. This I especially noticed coming from a Salvadoran Anglican priest that I know (of dubious credentials), but I have seen other examples as well. It seems that white middle class Canadians appear to assume that they are the only people in the world guilty of and aware of being racist (and at least we´re doing something about it!), but racism knows no colour, nationality or creed, I´m afraid. It´s everywhere, and I only hope that more people of other ethnicities come to take a similar hard stand against it because, we´re all in this together, eh? And just in case any of you are wondering if I m simply trying to ride on my fictitious white privilege while I´m here in Costa Rica, I´ll have you know that I treat people here exactly the way I treat Canadians, which is to say, very well, but I also don´t suffer fools gladly, neither in Canada, nor here. In fact, I don´t suffer them at all! In other news, I did eat in another establishment this afternoon, and spent almost four hours in there with my artwork and enjoying the marvelous views of the Nicoya Peninsula. The waiter is also an artist, who showed me some of his work. He´s very talented and once again I have met an artist here in Monteverde, who also inspires me. A big hug from Monteverde, especially to my Latino friends! If you still want me around, that is.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 21

Monteverde, like any settlement of humans, does have it´s share of imbeciles. I will not go into detail here, as it was a minor occurance, but I´m still steamed about it, and this too will pass. Suffice it to say, anyone is going to feel annoyed at times with others and the feelings will linger for a while, then they drop off and it´s like nothing ever happened. This usually takes an hour or two, for me, anyway, and I will try not to let this mood affect my writing today, Gentle Reader. And to those of you who are just itching to tell me to just let it go, will you please shut up and drop on your pointed little head! Thank you. Now, on with the show. Really, nothing happened today. It´s Holy Week, or Semana Santa, so school´s out and the bed and breakfast is busy with relatives visiting the owners and noisy kids, so it gets a bit irritating at times. It was worse yesterday, when I had to wear earplugs to write this blog, but things are more calmed down today, so far anyway. I gave the owners this morning a drawing of a morpho butterfly superimposed over a couple of hummingbirds. In exchange, I get a lovely bag of local coffee to carry home with me. Their granddaughter, who is six, sometimes takes an interest in my art and hangs out to watch and chat and I also try to show her techniques with colour. Nice kid. Noisy at times, but still nice. It is interesting seeing how tight this family is, but it seems pretty typical of the culture here. I find it interesting how in Canada, even though they are trying to give more emphasis to families, it´s still treated more like an add-on. In this country, as I imagine elsewhere in Latin America, the family is central, or you could say, the culture is the family and the family is the culture, and so strong is this culture of family that it goes a long way in influencing government social policy. I am given to understand that the idea of single young adults living alone is still a rarity, almost considered an oddity here. Everything is interpreted through family. I´m taking care to get extra rest, when I can. After breakfast I lay down for a couple of hours, even though I was feeling well-rested, and I did drop into a deep sleep for a while. The dreams, generally, are still very vivid and intense, and seem to suggest some kind of inner adjustment I am needing to make while here on vacation. Or it could be more that I am in the process of making such adjustment. I also have the feeling that my life is about to morph into a new shape when I get back, but we´ll have to wait and see. These month long vacations do seem always to bring some sense of change into my life and it´s almost like a kind of adjustment and rebalancing that happens during these times. I´m still enjoying the other guests here. I had a nice chat with a Spanish couple who now live in the US. When they found out that my Spanish is quite decent we spent the time communicating in the language of Cervantes. I still think the Iberian Spanish accent is kind of hilarious. They sound almost like a colony of bees buzzing when they speak. But be careful not to piss them off or they could easily turn into a swarm of wasps! I have learned this lesson the hard way, Gentle Reader. I did take a walk up to the reserve but I didn´t go in. I am studiously avoiding the hummingbird gallery as it makes me sick with grief to see the way visitors seem to have absolutely no regard for the personal space of these birds, and particularly birds, and especially solitary species like hummingbirds, don´t like to be imposed on. But I enjoyed the walk. Even though it´s on a road, there isn´t much traffic and the view and the many trees of this semi-wilderness are just incredible. I feel greatly privileged being here. On the way back I extended the walk to include a side road, and again, more trees, more foliage dazzling with sunlight, butterflies, but not a lot of birds as they do like to stay hidden. I guess this is what makes me a bird lover, but not a birder. I don´t go chasing after them for a look-see. I think that´s rather rude and gauche, actually. I prefer to let them come to me, or that we encounter each other by happenstance. Maybe I don´t see quite as many birds this way, but I appreciate them all the more, and it also really reinforces my respect for them, which seems to be lacking in a lot of the tourists who come here to see them. I wonder if this also stems from my being vegetarian. Please feel free to comment, anybody, if you have some insight about this, but since giving up meat in all its forms some twenty-five years ago, I seem to have really grown in my respect and appreciation for other species. I spent about three hours in Cafe Caburé working on a drawing and indulging myself with a rich dessert. The owner´s friend is still visiting from San José and her little poodle, the one who tried to eat my shirt last week, has some major behaviour problems. From a behind a closed door somewhere she could be heard whining and yelping in her pitious little high voice, her punishment for wreaking havoc when she´s allowed free run of the place. And sure enough, to shut her up, they let her out and then she proceeded to bark aggressively at everyone coming in, so they had to lock her up again. Then I had dinner in the soda, where the irritating encounter occurred. Let´s just say that I got in the last word announcing to the offending party, ¨¡Soy tu mayor!¨ or, I´m old enough to be your father. The good news is I´m over it now, and it really was kind of funny. A big hug from Monteverde.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 20

Last night I had a confrontation with the alleged owner of the Hotel Villa Verde. At quarter to eight, just as I was struggling to keep my eyes open, the music got cranked up. Even after the volume was lowered a bit, the earplugs were still no match for the din. So, I went over there. I asked the man at the front desk if this was the Villa Verde. He said it was. I asked him about lowering the noise, please. He said it´s still early. I tactfully explained that some people in the area like to retire early, and could he please consider this. He tried to argue that it was his right to run his business, and then I asked him if maybe out of good manners and consideration for others he might want to compromise. I also said that he might try to have some compassion for those who don´t want to listen to loud club music out in the wilderness. That´s when he got a bit ugly, telling me that I´m on his property etcetera, and he´d do whatever he wanted. I told him that if it happens again, I would return. He asked if I was making a threat, and I replied that, no, it´s a promise. Then, as I was leaving he tried to follow me close behind. Twice in Spanish, I told him not to follow me. Then, I left. This guy is an American, by the way, for all you cultural relativism cops who are just champing at the bit to lecture me for not being culturally tolerant. The local Ticos, I have found, unlike certain foreign investors in this country, are quiet and considerate of others. The good news is that he did turn the music down. I have no plans of returning by the way, simply because I´m getting really sick of this. I also reckon that the one face to face encounter will be enough to help resolve things. It isn´t that I´m backing down from a fight, as there are no punches involved here. I stayed polite, if assertive, all the way through, and violence has never been my thing, anyway. Not that I´m a coward, no more or no less than anyone else, but I just find that kind of exchange to be an incredible waste of energy, as well as being super destructive. So, I always avoid this kind of interaction, though I have also found that when done right, face to face communication can and often does work wonders. Anyway, we´ll see how things go over my last ten days here. I did sleep okay, by the way, and today did another walk in the reserve. It feels kind of like a guilty pleasure, since after paying just once, they´re letting me in now for free whenever I want. It wasn´t too crowded, being Sunday, and it is often interesting observing other people while in the forest, something I probably wouldn´t be able to do so well if I wasn´t there alone. Some look genuinely enthralled with the place. Others get super-distracted with their companions or kids and just seem to want to get through the ordeal without paying much attention to their surroundings. Then there are the barmy birders with their cameras and telescopes, so focussed on getting enough images of that special bird to put on their Facebook account that they don´t seem to be terribly aware of the overwhelming beauty and majesty of this forest. But I think most visitors really do appreciate and enjoy it, and it can be so overwhelming that I don´t think that anyone should be blamed for wanting to block some of it out. I really think that we are rather fragile to be able to accommodate too much beauty, much as we hunger for it. I have also noted that never, so far, have I seen anyone in the forest looking at their phone or iPod. And no joggers. While sitting on a bench and admiring a particularly impressive strangler fig (please ask Uncle Google. They are fascinating trees), I ended up chatting with a couple from Argentina about this tree. Since they didn´t speak English, I told them in Spanish about how this tree actually grows around a host tree for support and eventually chokes it to death, hence its name, and becomes, itself, the tree. They are huge, by the way, and towering. Later, while seated on an other bench, I noticed stuff falling from a nearby tree, then looked more carefully and saw a capuchin monkey eating a piece of fruit. He seemed quite content to sit up there while I tried to engage him in Spanish. Then two fellows, Mexicans, I think, came by to have a look and the monkey got a bit nervous and climbed to a further tree. Then a group of a half dozen or so young people decided to get their piece of the action and the monkey, understandably, retreated even further. I was also feeling uncomfortable with this mob of strangers surrounding me and standinr real close to the bench (I don´t like nature when there are too many humans included), so I got up, said, ´´I don´t want to make the monkey neurotic¨, and left. I think they actually got it. Then I noticed a couple of young woman focussing with their cameras on a bird in the bushes. They told me about it, and I paused briefly for a look, then backed away, mentioning that I like to give the birds their space. On the whole, this has been an enjoyable day, plus, it was a gentler than usual hike in the woods, so I could appreciate more the beauty around me without my limbs and joints complaining about the way I´m punishing them. A big hug from Monteverde. Handshake and fistbump, too.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 19

It´s been drizzling all day, since last night. Not really a heavy rain, and often there is still a lot of sunshine, and this gives us a lot of rainbows, so it is a day full of rainbows, which for me indicates a day full of hope. On my way back from supper I actually passed through a rainbow, then underneath another one. There is something special about this. This is uncommon weather here for March, and it all looks like climate change. It´s usually hot and dry. Still, the drizzle, or llovizna (pronounced yo-BEEZ-na, or if you´re from Argentina, zho-BEEZ-na, and if you´re unfortunate enough to be from Spain it will sound something like yo-BEETH-na) has been something quite enjoyable to walk in, never really getting you soaked, but cooling and refreshing to be in, even if you´re just out in shirtsleeves as I have been today. It is a bit on the cool side. Hmmm...I just asked Uncle Google, and it says that it is twenty-two degrees right now, but I´m sure it´s less than that. And there is quite a wind blowing again. I woke up after not quite enough sleep, again, though better rested than the last couple of days. There have been a lot of friendly guests here at the bed and breakfast, lately, me among them. Today two German guys who just arrived offered me a ride partway to the cafe I was on my way to. It was a very short ride, but enjoyable. They are from Cologne, a city I have visited, and they seem very nice. Wow, friendly Germans today, and friendly French people here, and bang go the stereotypes! After breakfast and staying to do some art, I was feeling uncommonly tired, so I returned to my room and rested for about two hours. This seems to be an important feature that I often neglect while on vacation, and I´m sure we´re all guilty of this, especially if you´re a consumer bucket list tourist and you have to fit in one thousand places to see and four hundred things to do and eight hundred different places to visit in just twenty-four hours or there will be nothing worth putting on Facebook, or on my blog! I think this is also why I´ve been feeling symptoms of depression today (not one of my diagnoses, in case you´re wondering!). Quite simply, I should be resting more and doing less. Less is more. It was quite lovely, just enough chocolate next to me to keep me quiet as I drifted off into a very profound slumber, then woke up and simply wanted to lay there, looking at all the sun glistening tropical splendour in my window from the huge garden outside. It was just after ten thirty when I pulled myself off the bed, then did a long walk, a mile and a half uphill as far as the entrance to the reserve. I stopped at the hummingbird gallery. Honestly, the visitors just don´t respect the birds, but have to zoom in on their personal space with their bloody cameras and telescopes. No wonder there aren´t as many hummingbirds as there used to be, and I wouldn´t be at all surprised if eventually they all get scared away by those idiots. But I don´t want to blame them too harshly. I have mentioned already on these pages how incomplete and empty a lot of the tourists here appear to be, and with their incredible hunger for beauty, they almost lunge like starving cretins at anything lovely that flies. This makes me, a chronic bird lover for as long as I can remember, wonder how empty in some ways their lives must really be. I mean, I expect that they all have lives, families, loved ones, occupations and hobbies and everything, but I can´t help but wonder about the spiritual hunger and emptiness that so many of us suffer from that makes us lunge mindlessly and stupidly at any object of beauty in our grasp. I have long beleved in the importance of respecting birds and other wildlife, and I only wish that some of the nature guides here in Costa Rica, and elsewhere, would try to reinforce this idea for those poor barmy birders. Maybe some of them do, but it just doesn´t sink in. We just went through a particularly stormy patch the last few minutes. The wind was really blowing and it got quite dark here with the clouds and rain. The storm seems to have passed for now. After walking to the reserve I backtracked and just continued walking in tranquil places where I had a lovely visit with a flying morpho butterfly. Try to imagine a brilliant electric blue light pulsating in midair and you´ll get an idea of how they look when they´re flying. I also saw a lot of cows. One had escaped from the pasture and was contentedly grazing by the highway. I spent almost three hours in the Café Caburé, enjoying a brownie with ice cream and coffee while working on a drawing, and watching the tropical forest and the thousands of different shades of green in the leaves, through the mist of the falling drizzle and the varying sunshine. I had some enjoyable chats with two of the waitresses working there. It´s been very quiet today, and this seems like a perfect note for concluding this page. A hug from Monteverde.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 18

I haven´t done a lot today, either, but primarily because I´ve been focussing on a new drawing that I will be trading with the owners of the bed and breakfast for a fat bag of the local coffee to take home with me. I know, it´s like giving it away, but they´re friends and it is sort of a gift. When it is finished I will try to include a photo for you to see it, the drawing, I mean. I´m sure you´ve all seen coffee before. Yesterday, I sent the hotel Villa Verde a nice little thank you note for the quiet night we all enjoyed, and today I got an equally kind reply with a promise that they would keep things quiet from now on. Neat, eh? I never thought I´d end up doing this kind of thing while on vacation, but you know, it was worth it, though the stress has kind of affected my sleep. More intense dreams last night. A big argument with my mother about music, and a series of visits to other planets, where their systems of writing include complex numerical codes, as well as having some very interesting and lovely hand soap. (no, I don´t take illegal drugs at bed time. Not even when I wake up in the morning! I don´t take legal ones either.) I´ve also been having a lot of enjoyable conversations with other guests here, lately. With three Italian guys, well one of them anyway, from near Milan. They just left this morning. Also with a couple from Colorado. They´re Mormons, a sect that I find decidedly weird, but, hey, I´m sure that a lot of you find it pretty weird when I mention that I have an invisible friend named Jesus. Disclosing this bit of information to my atheist psychiatrist even won me a bogus mental health diagnosis. So, who am I to judge. They seem like really nice people, anyway, and quite enjoyable to talk to and, at the end of the day, that´s what really matters, to me, anyway. By the way, Gentle Reader, I just accidentally hit´´publish´´, so, if you´re reading this right now, then kindly wait till it´s finished and I will shortly resend you the full text. Back to the Mormon couple, I don´t know whether they´re Trump supporters or not, and I promise to make every possible effort not to find out. Don´t need some things to ruin my holiday, nor anyone else´s. I also enjoyed visiting with four middle aged Chinese American women from Los Angeles who are here to get away from their husbands and kids for a few days. Really nice people, and they also helped cure my homesickness for Vancouver, as we have a lot of people in my city of Asian heritage. The weather´s been pretty decent today, still windy but not as bad as yesterday and sunny and pleasantly warm. As the theme of the drawing for the family here is a morpho butterfly with a couple of hummingbirds, I thought it was really cool that today on one of my walks, I got a really good look at a morpho flying past me, and I simply twirled around for a better vew. This young local guy kind of smiled when he saw me do this and I replied in Spanish, ¨paro para los morfos¨, or, I stop for morphos. I sat for a couple of hours in the panadería Jiménez where I did some more work on the drawing. They had the soccer game on between Costa Rica and Scotland, for the upcoming World Cup. Costa Rica won 1-0, not that I care, but interestingly enough, this time I don´t seem to find the soccer games annoying when I´m here. On the other hand, the volume wasn´t turned up too loud either, which was kind of nice. I really don´t care one way or the other, as long as it doesn´t seem to be being pushed in my face. I´m like that about kids in public, as well. No problem as long as their parents keep them in line, but when mommy and daddy are more interested in checking their Facebook status while their little mouth breathers are wreaking havoc, well, that´s where I draw the line. I´m like that about dogs too. If it´s a nice dog, I like it. If he´s vicious or aggressive, not so much. Depends on the kid, depends on the dog. Now that the road has been paved it is much easier to walk and drive on it, but it is still very narrow, making it difficult to walk when there is traffic. What´s worse is the many huge tourist buses, which I call elefantes de llantas, or, elephants on wheels. I really don´t know why they don´t build proper sidewalks here. There is room, but I imagine that the usual excuse is no money. (Sound familiar?) Mind you, if the Costa Rican government would simply raise taxes just a little bit, they might just have enough for proper infrastructure maintenance and even extra left over for more social programs. Or maybe they´re just waiting to see how many people get run over first, before they decide to do anything about the lack of sidewalks here. It´s kind of typical, isn´t it, and this happens all over the world, this sad disregard by governments of their own citizenry. I really think that the first, and most important, step to developing an economy that actually works for everybody, begins by taking the attitude that the people are the economy and the economy is the people. We really have to do some fast backpeddling on the huge damage that has already been done in our world thanks to the theories of Milton Friedman, if we want to see our economies fully humanized, otherwise, the divide s just going to keep on growing. I´ll shut up now. Big hug to all of you, also a wink and a wave.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica,17

Not a whole lot happened today. The wind has been incredibly fierce, strong and constant since last night. I am told it is unusual to have such wind here in March, but such is climate change, eh? I had a very uneven sleep with intense, real-life dreams. I´ll share the one that stood out the most, and maybe someone can help me interpret it: First of all, I experienced this dream as though it were happening in my waking life. I was in a supermarket and trying to find the exit, given that they were super strict on security and a lot of openings were barricaded, but I did make it out. Then, on the escalator I encountered a woman whom I had known from a panel discussion about human rights, social marginalization, and poverty, that I had participated in. Now, keep in mind that none of this has happened in my waking life. It has all been completely contained in this dream. I couldn´t recall the name of the woman who had coordinated this event, but I remember her face and general appearance as though I have known her for a long time in real life. Same with the woman I met on the escalator. She was black, African-Canadian, middle aged with a very diwtinctive face and features, suggesting the torch singer Lena Horne, but with a darker complexion. She said to me, ¨Hey, it´s you!¨in a very friendly manner. Her name was Susan. She had with her her daughter, a special needs child entering adolescence. We talked for a while about the panel discussion and issues around it, and then she mentioned that now, as during this recent event, she is herself in a very vulnerable state, being homeless right now and staying with her child in a women´s shelter. I also shared with her my own personal experience of homelessness and living between very difficult situations several years ago. It was, on the whole, a positive encounter, with someone I have never known or met in real life, but is just as real in the dream, as though she was someone I know well, like some of my friends who are reading my blog. Please let me know if any of this resonates with you or if you have any ideas or insights. I was awake quite a bit during the night, and following breakfast, I had to go down for a good one and a half hour nap, following a good art session in the breakfast room. I also had some enjoyable chats with a couple from Colorado (he speaks pretty good Spanish and seemed to want to do the whole conversation with me in the Language of Cervantes, and that´s always fine for me. Then I chatted a bit with a couple from New York. All pleasant people. I think the disrupted sleep did put me in a very grumpy mood, and I thought I would cure it with a long walk (it helped) almost to Santa Elena, then some time in cafe Cabure for a brownie with ice cream (and that helped even more!) I was the only customer present for most of the nearly three hours I spent there, and sat on their long balcony enjoying the view of the tropical forest. I also got a lot of art work done. Then, a pleasant woman of about my age appeared and wanted to look at some of my art. She lives in San Jose and is a friend of the Arentinian lady who owns the cafe. She was very friendly and pleasant, and so was her playful little poodle that wanted to eat my shirt! Then she showed me her sketchbook, and what talent! I really felt inspired looking at her work. On my way back from supper at the women´s co-op nearby, where I usually enjoy a cheap casado, two little kids on the trail stopped me to tell me that I remind them of Papa Francisco, the current pope. It was quite funny for me and their moms. Now I´m back at the bed and breakfast staring out at this dazzling golden green light in the foliage as the sun begins its descent. Big hug, big handshake, or big fistbump, or any combination, Gentle Reader, from Monteverde.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 16

Sometimes, Gentle Reader, I can get really angry. I am generally ready to lose it when I am being serenaded by throbbing disco party music in the middle of the jungle at night, when all I want to do is bed down for a good night´s sleep, and the earplugs just can´t do the job because the music is so damn loud. Well, the hotel next door was at it again. Just after eight, as I was getting ready to settle down for a good read before dropping off to sleep, I thought at first that it was thunder, or a huge truck rolling by, or maybe the beginnings of an earthquake. And I already was wearing the bloody earplugs! When I became aware of the cause of the noise, I went up to reception to complain, but there was nothing they could do, because apparently, here you can make any kind of godawful loud racket, no matter how many people you´re keeping awake who have to work early the next morning, as long as you shut it down by 10 pm. The establishment is named Villa Verde, by the way. If you ever come to Monteverde, please do not stay there. Especially if you like to go to sleep early, but also because they are awful people. The management of the bed and breakfast where I´m staying will recommend people who come looking for a room when they are already full, to other hotels, but never to the Villa Verde. I looked them up on the internet, found their contact information and sent them first a polite email in Spanish. A half hour later, the music was still loud. I sent another polite email. Fifteen minutes later, still no change. I sent another email, then out of sheer frustration I sent them a fourth, which I will copy and translate here. ´´Puesto que no hagan caso a mi queja del ruido, les advierto que si ocurra de nuevo tal ruido mientras estoy aqui, voy a escribir algo de la situación en el Tripadvisor, y en los Google reviews. Su falta de consideración a otras personas es muy preocupante.´´ English translation: ´´Since you have been ignoring my complaint about the noise, I am warning you that if this occurs again while I am here, then I will write something about the situation on Tripadvisor, and on Google reviews, You´re lack of consideration for others is very troubling.´´ I also threatened to come over there and confront them in person if they didn´t smarten up. Well, just after that last email, everything went quiet and it was still only 9:30. I also got a reply from them today saying they would cooperate. So, let´s keep our fingers crossed, eh? No matter how much I hate conflict I have come to accept it sometimes as a necessary evil. Also, acknowledging that we are all basically cowards, it seems there are at least two ways to address our cowardliness: We can either cave and run away or at least try not to rock the boat, or we can stand up and fight for what we believe in. Even though I´m a pacifist, that has never stopped me from confronting idiots when I´ve had to. I have also tried caving or running away, and I just didn´t like having to live with someone like myself after I did that, so, it´s stand up and fight. And the family who owns the bed and breakfast seem quite happy with what I did, especially given that I never once named them or their establishment. I merely wrote that I am staying with friends, which is also true. Of course, this kind of conflict often affects my sleep somewhat, but I didn´t do too bad, and I napped for a good hour and something after breakfast. I still have to remind myself sometimes that it´s okay just to lie around and do nothing. It is one of the reasons why I´m here, eh?Nothing else really interesting today. I went back to the reserve for another hike. They let me in free now, because the management of the Mariposa (one of their sons works in the reserve) made a special arrangement for me. It wasn´t too crowded, and again the intense beauty of life and growth and biodiversity here is such that you only have to keep returning in order to appreciate it. Just one single tree supports and sustains up to seventy or more distinct species of other plants. It has also been sunny all day so the intense light and shadow in the foliage produces a dazzling visual affect. I do feel like a stranger in a strange land here, though, but not with the locals. It´s with other tourists. I seem to be quite out of the ordinary here. I am not staying just two or three days, but for a month. I am not on a special education or volunteer program. I am here, to observe, learn, appreciate, enjoy and communicate with others. I don´t carry a camera or telescopic equipment, and I don´t have a vehicle, neither do I take cabs or the bus, I walk everywhere. I don´t even have a phone or laptop. Less is more. I am also here to rest and hike and grow deeper into God. Should I run into another person like me while on this trip, you will be the first to know, Gentle Reader. In other news, the six year old granddaughter of the owners and I just did another art trade, similar to last year. Her father is the owners´son who works in the reserve. And now, Gentle Reader, while watching the late afternoon sun filter through the intensely green foliage in its own dazzling gold brilliance, let me sign off with a big hug for all of you, or if you´re squeamish about hugs, how about a fist bump? Seeya.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 15

Another uneventful day, which is exactly what I came here for. Yesterday I busted a couple for letting their second hand cigarette smoke drift into my room. I was polite about it and they were respectful. Young French couple, a bit friendlier than a lot of French visitors here. I don´t know if there´s a specific no smoking rule for the whole establishment, but management is supportive about the way I have been handling things, plus, the smokers and I seem to end up getting on well, I think even better given that we have had a chance to...er...clear the air. And, in case you`re wondering, in Costa Rica they´re pretty strict about smoking, much as they are in Canada, so please, no cultural relativism lectures. I don´t always follow this rule myself, but I do believe that if you´re going to be assertive, it is always better to try to be polite about it. I had a nice breakfast chat with a pleasant couple from Toronto. They were here with their three teenage sons. I have a rule about chatting with other Canadians when travelling. Almost never, ever talk about Canadian politics, even if we`re on the same page about everything. There are things that I simply do not want to have to think about while I´m away from Canada, and Canada, I´m afraid, is just one of those things. They checked out today, and like everyone else who stays here, they were here only one or two nights. Pity, this, because they don´t really get much opportunity to really absorb or appreciate the beauty of this place, but so it is with consumer tourism. I guess I also get a bit nervous with this high turnover of guests, because I never know what to expect next, or what kinds of problems folks might be bringing with them. It also makes it difficult to become better acquainted with guests who seem to like me. On the other hand, I don´t have to cope too long with the prolonged coldness of the ones that don´t seem to like me, or anybody else, for that matter. Earplugs certainly help. The walls are a bit on the thin side and couples aren´t always quiet, if you know what I mean, but fortunately only once so far have I had to cope, very briefly, with honeymooners, but I´m not going into any details as this material may not be appropriate for family viewing. I always bring several pairs of earplugs when I travel. I hate unwanted noise, especially when I want to unwind for the night. I also bring with me a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide to disinfect the earplugs, since I reuse them. The peroxide is also great for oral hygiene, first aid, and keeping my shoes relatively fresh. Don´t leave home without it. I also packed an extra pair of shoes, a cloth reusable bag and a few plastic bags (especially for laundry, as well as shopping needs) I packed a lot of pencil crayons (one pack of one hundred colours, plus the large kit of pencils that I carry with me everywhere and coloured pens (two packages), along with my sketchbook and two pencil sharpeners. Since Monteverde is a bit on the remote side I always try to err on the side of excess with things like that. I also have a few books with me, in both languages, as well as just enough clothing to see me through (besides what I´m already wearing, three shirts, two pairs of pants and nine each of socks and underwear.) Three bandanas, a red one, green, and a light blue one (my fave) to protect my head from the solar wrath. A tube of sunscreen (natch), toothpaste, toothbrush, nail clippers, four razors, deodorant, hair scissors (I trim my hair, or what´s left of it, every day, been doing this for more than thirty years, and it´s saved me a small fortune in barber visits), utility scissors, healing ointment, pain killers and a few band-aids, thread and a couple of needles. Also I packed with me one kilo each of trail mix and chocolate chips, for snacking, since food and meals can be pretty pricey, here, as well as for nutritional concerns (the trail mix anyway.) I am carefully rationing the trail mix and chocolate chips, to ensure that they last me the whole trip. Likewise with money. Besides eighty bucks Canadian for immediate use when I return home, I brought with me around a thousand bucks worth of Colones, the Costa Rican currency, and just over seven hundred US for back up and emergencies. I am spending very very carefully and frugally and I expect that not only will I be taking home all the US funds with me, but that I might also end up changing at the airport a couple of hundred bucks in leftover Colones. There is a plan here: I never know what kind of surprise Canada Revenue will have waiting for me when I get home, neither do I know what my available hours of work are going to look like. So, if any of you have had any questions about how I pack and travel, there goes the mystery. Today there was this guy who drives a truck all over the area that loudly broadcasts announcements of public interest. I used to let myself get really annoyed at this, since it really ruptures the beautiful fiction that many of us have about places like Monteverde. On the other hand, I think it´s good for tourists to be reminded of those salient little details that the travel agencies never tell them: that these beautiful places that we love to visit for a few days are also places where people work, live and have to survive and cope with life. A lot of those places, and Costa Rica is one of them, do not have social welfare programs, which means that one has to be willing to take whatever work is available, no matter how odious, in order to pay the bills. So now, when I hear this guy coming, once I have stopped wincing, I offer up a prayer for him, thanksgiving that he has work, and I also try to remind myself that I know absolutely nothing about the circumstances of his life. Still annoying, but makes it a bit easier to cope with. A big hug to all of you (for those who are squeamish about hugs, a big handshake!)

Fifth time In Costa Rica,14

It is interesting how different countries seem to summon forth each their own particular images and catchwords for us. Even in Latin America, even though they mostly share in common the Spanish language and many cultural and historical features, as well as Roman Catholicism, each tends to evoke its own unique set of images and words. Mexico? Mariachi, cerveza, and hot chillie peppers and Aztec heritage. Guatemala? Mayan ruins and gang violence. Honduras? Gang violence and poverty. El Salvador? Gang violence and an export of refugees. Nicaragua? Revolution. Costa Rica? Tourism, nature, coffee and bananas. And on it goes. Each of those stereotypes, like stereotypes in general, has its ring of truth, but it´s still more truthiness. I think the best way to get to know a country is by going there yourself, spending some time, and learning to see it through the eyes of the people who live there. Since befriending, and being befriended by the family that operates the bed and breakfast where I´m staying, this has been happening for me every single day since I arrived in Monteverde. And as well as this wonderful family, I am stopping to have chats with various friendly people I meet in cafes and restaurants as they each tell me a bit about their own experience of their country, Costa Rica. Today I went with the manager´s father down to San Luis, the agricultural village in the valley nearbye where I visited yesterday. He at first was going to take me on a long hike on some difficult trails, but my body is still rebelling following the stress I put it through yesterday with excessive hiking and climbing, so we compromised and he took me on a gentler, but still challenging walking route. First, a word about kinship and social connectedness here: almost everyone is somehow or other related, it seems, so you have a huge sense of extended family here. As we stopped in various places in San Luis to visit and say hi I was introduced to cousins, in-laws, aunts and uncles and siblings. He took me on a tour of his uncle´s farm, where he grows coffee, bananas and sugar cane, all for the market. It isn´t a huge property, probably a couple of hectares. His uncle appears to be around eighty, a small, spry and gentle and very friendly man wielding a very scary looking machete which, fortunately, he had no intention of using on us. He was just clearing brush with it. I am especially impressed by the friendliness and affection that is expressed between people here. They see each other perhaps every day, or almost every day, but they never seem to lose appreciation for one another. Living where I do in Vancouver, a city that is quite cold, unfriendly and socially hostile this is a very strange and welcome treat to behold. This country is also intensely agricultural, and small wonder. The rich red soil is nourished by volcanic ash and it simply has to produce life. This country is incredibly fecund, whether for it´s natural splendour of forests and trees or for the intense agriculture that never seems to exhaust the soil. Among the towering trees frestooned with epiphytes, ferns, moss and vines and flowers, one will see cows contentedly grazing everywhere. The colour green is everywhere, in all its full spectrum of shades and intensity. We visited a small private reserve with hiking trails where we stopped to rest, have some water, and chat with the people who run the place, a family. I don´t know if they´re all related but there is clearly a lot of friendship here. The woman who runs the reserve is herself a talented artist and the canteen area where we were sitting displays many of her paintings depicting the natural life of her country. We must have done around three hours of hiking on the dirt roads going up and down steep and scarcely forgiving hills. Needless to say, I was even more tired after we were finished and my bones hurt even more, but it´s all good. Plus, the opportunity to communicate in total Spanish with someone who doesn´t speak any English is very helpful to my fluency. We also saw a very interesting looking snake in one of the trees. Nonvenemous, it was coloured green and very long and very thin. I think around five or six feet in length. I did remark to my friend that there appears to be no graffiti anywhere in Monteverde or in Santa Elena and we both agree that that is a sign of a healthy and socially cohesive community. I spent the rest of the day laying low. I just walked a mile or so down the highway to Café Caburé, a rather elegant and overpriced establishment run by a woman from Argentina who has lived in Costa Rica for twenty years and very popular with tourists. There on the balcony overlooking the tropical forest, I relaxed with a chocolate brownie with chocolate and blackberry (mora) sauce and very good ice cream and a coffee, all a bit expensive, but worth the respite. I must have spent three hours there, developing a new drawing and intermittently chatting in Spanish with the waitress, who warmly remembered me from last year when I was most recently in this beautiful country. I also noticed quite a few international students today, many of whom speak respectable Spanish. I´m assuming that they´re mostly from the US. They don´t seem particularly friendly, but that´s okay, because I´m not really here to talk to any of them. A big hug.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 13

Happy Sunday, Gentle Reader, and welcome to post number lucky thirteen, which is to say I have been in Costa Rica almost two weeks, and just over a week in Monteverde. Yesterday, as I was finishing writing this blog I got into an interesting conversation with the lady from Montreal. She wanted to know if I was married and had kids. Then, when she learned that neither disaster has ever befallen me she tried to appear sympathetic, as though there must be something wrong with me. Then she tried to console me by telling me that even unmarried people can be happy. I replied, ``And some of us are even happier.`` The manager, who like me is happily single, seemed to be quite enjoying this little exchange, and we did chat a bit about it later. It turns out that, for me anyway, travelling alone is sometimes a bit strange, but only for one little reason: it seems that solo travel and travellers have become such a rarity that I was surprised to come across even one other guest here at the Mariposa who, like me, was alone. It kind of leaves me feeling like I`m of a different species, or that I`m from another planet. I for one couldn`t imagine being paired off with one person and having to be with that same person day in and day out, with no real privacy. I did experiment with shacking up once, when I was much younger. It lasted about a year. My partner and I were very well matched and everything, but I knew this kind of arrangement was not for me, and after it ended I haven´t had, and have never since have had, any desire to repeat the experience. I don`t need anyone like that in my life, just friends who know when it`s time to go home. I also accept that a lot of people need to be partnered, especially men, since a lot of men tend to be both, really selfish, and also really pathetic when it comes to taking proper care of themselves, but we are not all like that. Also I understand how it takes the many compromises that make a marriage work to kick the selfishness out of some of those male idiots, and especially having and raising kids. But again, not for everybody. Of course, being unmarriageable, even today, makes many of us suspect, as though we are somehow emotionally or psychologically damaged, or incomplete as human beings, or that we are somewhere on the Spectrum. Sad, isn`t it, how much the whole psychiatric industry bends over backwards to pathologize any behaviour or lifestyle choice that is even a little bit outside of the social and cultural norm, and even sadder to think how many mental health professionals are just too mentally and intellectually lazy, or maybe just too plain stupid, to be able to read nuance and see the many shades of grey as well as the full pallet of colour. Much easier to deal in broad strokes of black and white I suppose, with a new medication being synthesized every month to treat yet another new, invented and imagined mental health disorder, and this of course keeps Big Pharma very rich, very fat and very happy. In other news, I walked down to San Luis, the village down the hill in the valley down below. I find it interesting that the first time I did that walk, in 2010, I was about forty-five pounds heavier than I am now, with an undiagnosed thyroid condition, and I could barely make it down that super-steep and winding road. Last year, weighing about twenty-five pounds less, I did it with no difficulty. Today, 2018, having lost yet another twenty pounds and counting, it was easier than ever. I am sixty-two years old, but more fit than I was at fifty-four. And still losing weight. When I got down into San Luis I took the other direction and walked a long and very quiet dirt road past the University of Georgia, which is a small residential university campus. There is a network of trails there and I went partway on one of them, but didn`t go too far, since I was in unknown territory and hadn`t even notified the management at the bed and breakfast about where I was going, and I must admit that it was a spontaneous decision. Still, what a beautiful and dreamlike and dreamscape of a walk. This quiet, really deserted rural road surrounded by lush tropical forest and trees and views of forest clad mountains. At the small store at the bottom of the hill, on my way back, I bought a litre of pineapple juice, which I finished on the way back up the hill. It is a long and difficult climb and I stopped several times to rest, sitting on top of big rocks, and ultimately on one of two benches with the most amazing view of trhe Nicoya Peninsula. On the right, the mountainside seemded quite dry and parched with large areas of brown. On the left, it was all lush and green, so there must be some different microclimates at play here. I did make it back alive, but really took my time, trying to use this time as an exercise in contemplation and rest. I want to go back down there again. A hug from Costa Rica.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 12

Nothing much really happened today, which is kind of the basic idea behind this trip. I`m still ignoring the news, still taking long walks, writing this blog, doing art, chatting in Spanish, reading. And, of course, looking at birds. When they want to be seen, that is. That was my reply this morning at breakfast to a lady from Montreal, who is here with her husband. She asked me if it`s quite easy to see birds here in Monteverde. I replied that it depends on if they want to be seen, I would imagine that some of you are rolling your eyes, right now, and saying, what a classic Aaron comment. But it is true. I think that birds, like humans, have both natural curiosity, and a natural instinct to conceal themselves when it`s to their advantage, especially if someone wants to shoot them. Like, the other day, there was a blue-crowned motmot checking me out. He was perhaps just two metres away, on a little branch, looking at me intently through his bright red eyes. They are very beautiful, and do look them up on Google. They have gorgeous bright blue and black markings on their head and face, producing a mask-like affect that really sets off their red eyes. The rest of their plumage is golden-buff, green and blue, and their longish tail ends in two racket shapes. They`re pretty common around here, and very chill. I walked to Santa Elena, stopped for a couple of hours to do some art over a smoothy at Hangover Cafe, my name for Choco Cafe. Not very chill today. A millenial father who seemed to be living in his own private yuppiverse brought in his ill-behaved little brat who ran all over the place, yelling and dominating everything, and got away with it, I think, because he has some kind of relationship to the cafe, perhaps in a relationship with one of the staff, or one of the owners or investors, who knows? This being a small community with families that have lived here for generations, there are all kinds of kinship situations, and complex interactions and relationships. Or you could say it`s like taking the concept of ``I`ll scratch your back if you scratch mine`` as far as you can possibly go with it. Later when I stopped for another couple of hours in Panadería Jiménez, I learned that the mother and daughter who operate the establishment are cousins of the owners of the place where I`m staying. And as I was beginning to write my blog, the manager`s mom introduced me to her sister, and they confirmed that almost everyone in Monteverde is somehow related, or once or twice removed, and it makes for a very tight network and sense of community, and this way, no one is ever unemployed, it seems. Being a latent anthropolgist, as my friend, an anthropologist who reads this blog, has called me, I really get interested in the whole human story behind these places. On the other hand, there might also be things I might wish that I never found out about, but such is life, eh? Big hug.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 11

Last night brought my first fly in the ointment during an otherwise flawless stay so far. The hotel next door occasionally throws a disco party, likely for ``special`` guests. Same as last year. That`s right, Gentle Reader, two hours or more of thudding and thumping disco and classic rock and who knows whatever godawful noise, in the semi wilderness, for those who want to forget where they are, miles away from diversions and distractions, and likely living in dread primal terror of having to face with the raw power of nature and the pathetic emptiness of their tiny little immortal souls. It didn`t go on too late, just until ten, but I usually want to bed down at around nine, and the music was so loud that not even earplugs helped,so I went up to the main house. There was nothing the manager could do because apparently the owners of that place have quite an attitude of impunity and they do have to coexist as neighbours, but at least they are compliant with the local noise bylaws and do turn it down at or before ten. So, to make it tolerable, given that they are likely to do this sort of thing more than once during my stay here, we`ve agreed that I will just sit in the reception area, where it isn`t as loud, with earplugs as needed, and a book to read, and when all is quiet I can return to my room. Not too bad, considering, and it wasn`t as hard as I feared it would be getting back to sleep and more or less staying asleep, except for waking briefly a couple of times. I like to think of this as an exercise in being adaptable and flexible, though it is a bit hard to restrain myself from going over there and chewing them out, which I was going to do, but the manager advised against it. Not to mention, who only knows what other horrors could get unleashed if I stick my nose there. For the record, the offending hotel is named Villa Verde, and because they are such crappy neighbours, should any of you want to visit Monteverde, please do not stay there. Thank you. In other news, I did have a lovely early start, and without difficulty, pulled myself out of bed at five this morning and treated myself to a pot of some of the local coffee, which is provided on the house in my room with little packets of coffee grown in a plantation just a couple of miles from here and a little coffee maker. Delicious way to start the morning, seated on the bench outside my door and staring at the beautiful natural foliage of the vast garden while listening to the morning birds. The breakfast room was already full when I came in, and I cheerily announced to everybody, in Spanish, then in English, ``Feliz viernes!``, ``Happy Friday!`` There was a bit of laughter, but honestly, I did it not for the attention, but out of pure happiness and good will, and to rattle a few cages, because some of the guests can get pretty self-absorbed. Now, I am not one to invade other people`s space, but on the other hand, it doesn`t hurt to let them know that should they so choose, my space is quite invadible, within reason of course. So, I had an interesting chat again with the couple from New York. Honestly, I don`t think that I`ve ever met a New Yorker that I haven`t liked. I really think that if I was an American, I would probably be a New Yorker. Generally, I find them to be open-minded, warm, tough as nails and refreshingly honest. I also chatted for a while with the British fellow in the next room. I guess he`d be around my age, widowed six years ago and I sense to be still in mourning. He is here on his own. A die-hard birder, so we had some interesting conversations around that theme. We also talked about why British people are less than likely to speak a second language. He thinks it`s because English is the global language of commerce. I think it`s because they live on an island. Chatting with this chap also really highlights for me how different is my way of travelling from others. He takes cabs everywhere. I walk, no matter the distance. He tries to go to special places to see different bird species and it likely ends up costing him a small fortune. Because I walk and take my time, I likely see just as many birds as he does, without having to try very hard. And he even admitted that when he let himself hold still long enough in the gardens here at the inn, that he was amazed at how many different birds he was able to spot and identify in the trees and bushes. Of course, he is just here for a few days, I`m here for a month, so I don`t feel much the pressure of time for getting things done. I`m trying to use up all my half-spent pencil crayons right now, and with interesting results. It`s kind of like going into the fridge and taking out all the leftover and close to expiry date food, and throwing everything together in the pot to see what happens. Then I did a moderately long walk, enjoyed some more bench time at the lookout point for the Nicoya Peninsula, then walked on a side road. I entered a small path into the forest then sat for a while on a fallen tree, just mesmerised by the lush growth around me and the leaves glittering green-gold in the sunlight. I was a bit watchful for snakes, recalling my first time in Monteverde when I was nearly bitten by a fer de lance, a highly dangerous species of viper. I did get away just in time, but honestly, when I saw the snake, I felt curious, since the only snakes I`d ever seen in the past were the harmless garter snakes that thrive in my part of Canada, and I used to pick them up and handle them with impunity. Now, I`m a little more careful. Afterward I enjoyed a frightfully expensive cup of coffee at the Cafe Escondido, which is hidden away. It cost around $4.30 Canadian. I also met a semi-friendly Canadian couple, fiftiesh, early Gen X and from Saskatchewan, so a bit on the Conservative side, but who am I to judge? Nice people, anyway and that`s what really matters. Later I stopped in Jimenez, the bakery cafe. The ladies who work there are cousins and they own the place. Very kind and friendly people and very reasonable prices. For a hot chocolate and piece of cake I paid only $3.46. After walking for a while longer, I sat on a rock warmed by sun on the side of the road. Does anyone else like sitting on rocks? If you do, then please leave a comment. I have loved sitting on rocks since I was maybe, fourteen, when I used to go on long solitary hikes in the woods in Stanley Park and elsewhere. There was a big rock by one of the paths overlooking Siwash Rock (soon to be renamed, because the word Siwash is Chinnook for savage, and understandably First Nations people, or a lot of them anyway, find the association offensive.) Anyway, I would sit on this rock in the woods and just close my eyes and try to meditate, though nothing really seemed to happen, which is just as well, because it last gave me time to be still a bit. It probably was a bit unsafe for me to be wandering alone like that, but at that age I didn`t really have any close friends so I tended to do everything on my own. It isn`t that there was anything particularly wrong with me, or the other kids in school and in my neighbourhood. I think we were just on different wavelengths and I didn`t have the good fortune of knowing anyone that I had anything in common with. This could also be why I`ve always been a bit of a risk taker. Often it`s seemed that if I didn`t go ahead and be like, damn the torpedoes, then nothing would ever happen in my life. You know, Gentle Reader, it hasn`t always been easy, and sometimes I`ve gotten myself into a lot of trouble for this, and you know something else? I would do it all over again. It has all been worth it. Big hug!

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 10

It`s hard to believe I`ve been here ten days already. I return to Vancouver in three weeks, April 5, for those of you who are wondering. I`ve turned into a bit of an art machine and have just completed drawing number five since arriving. Well, there`s lots of time to do art, and really, given that I spend eleven months of the year looking after other people`s mental health, it`s only fitting that I take this one month of the year to look after my own. I had a difficult night. There was a huge windstorm and it knocked the power out briefly so when I woke up my clock radio wasn´t right and I thought it was a couple of hours later than it really was. I got up at around two-twenty, believing that it was four am (I got to sleep at around quarter to nine last night, so it didn`t seem that early.) I got up, showered, cleaned my place (I have a special arrangement with management, so I do a lot of my own cleaning. It helps me feel more at home here and it also takes a bit of a burden off their staff as this is peak season in Monteverde.) I stepped outside to look at the stars. This place is in the semi-wilderness and there is almost no light pollution and you can see stars, oh, you can see stars! That is one knock out punch of a night sky here in Monteverde where, when it isn`t cloudy, you can see stars, and more stars, and more stars and they go on forever! Not feeling properly rested I went back to sleep for a couple of hours, then woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke coming through my window. I stepped outside and nearby at the picnic table the British guy in the next room (Jean Paul and Simone have left) was sucking on a smoke and I told him firmly but politely that smoking is prohibited here. He was very good about it, fortunately. At breakfast I chatted for a while with an elderly couple from New York. Unfortunately we couldn`t avoid talking about President Dump, the Great Deplorable in the Oval Office. They still haven`t gotten over the horror. I did mention to them that since arriving here in Costa Rica, I haven`t bothered to look at any news sources, not online, not anywhere, and I don`t miss it. Please, Gentle Reader, don`t tell me anything that I`m missing unless the Big One has finally hit Vancouver, then, any of you who have survived have my permission to tell me all about it, if you are able to get online anywhere. I went for a not very long hike in the cloud forest reserve, following a two hour nap after breakfast. The place has lost none of it`s magic or splendour, and you can tell by the look of awe on some of the visitors` faces that we all share in common, as human beings, this insatiable hunger for beauty. This could be why they all look kind of incomplete to me. It´s as though they are missing beauty of soul or something similar and so we all seem to have this need to absorb and drink it in and satisfy that craving and maybe nourish our souls a little. It`s one of those facets of our human nature that I don`t think can be easily or scientifically explained away, this incurable craving for beauty, this raging need to be overcome by the sublime. They`ve put in quite a few benches since I visited this forest last year and I did rest on quite a few of them. I am in no hurry, and I want to spend more of my time here like this: being still, and listening and watching and absorbing the marvellous glory and beauty that is surrounding me in this magical place. I could do without some of the muddy trails, but that is a small price to pay. It is not hard to imagine what Central America must have looked like when it was all covered with dense tropical forest. Those days will always be gone, I`m afraid. But I am confident for our future, even if some of you might think I`m being daft. While I was walking in the cloud forest today, I couldn`t help wondering what more could be done to make this place more accessible to persons with disabilities. There is no wheelchair access anywhere, and the trails themselves would have to be fully and properly paved and I can`t see this happening any time soon. So, it looks like, by default anyway, ableism is going to win this one in Monteverde, which is a shame, because it is sad that people in wheelchairs may never have the opportunity to see this incredible forest live. At least there are no bikes on the trails. Nothing against cyclists, but they do tend to move rather fast, and if you want to go slow and absorb your environment then they can be an irritating and painful distraction. I know this because sometimes cyclists in my own dear Vancouver have a tendency of taking over some of the trails in Stanley Park and Pacific Spirit Park, two places where I enjoy long, contemplative solitary hikes, and they can really wreck the ambience at times. On the other hand, I have to pay nearly thirty bucks canadian for the privilege of seeing this cloud forest. In Vancouver, I can walk in the forest for free! A big hug to all of you

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 9

Well, another day, another blogpost. It keeps me busy. I didn`t do much today, which is kind of my purpose for being here. Tourists are everywhere, and I have to admit that they all look kind of sad, lost and incomplete. Even the older ones have that look on their faces of kids who got lost in the mall. I have long held that there is a difference between travel and tourism. Sometimes the differences are very subtle, but they are there, nonetheless. Tourism does not encourage engagement. By its very structure and nature the tourism industry seems to do everything it can to prevent engagement. Tourism is, after all, a multi billion, multi trillion dollar industry. I just asked Uncle Google. Tourism, it turns out is globally a 7.6 trillion dollar industry (2016), and accounts for one in every eleven jobs worldwide. But if you look at tourist brochures and websites you will see that what the industry is really promoting is a set of illusions, myths and beautiful fictions for the gratification, pleasure and escape from everyday reality for the overworked and exhausted gormless tourist. But to actually engage with the other countries, with the people who live in them? To learn the language, become friends with the locals, learn about what everday life is really like in those far away paradises and tourist traps that pander to our own sense gratification, casual curiosity and our need to take awesome selfies! To learn about the work culture, the poverty and social inequality, the environmental issues, the influence of the military (none, here in Costa Rica, thank God!) the every day struggle to stay alive, to learn about the pride they take in their country, their families, their friends, and their culture. Who has time for any of that, and really, the industry wants to keep the fictions and myths and illusions alive and well if they want to keep raking in their trillions. The other side of the argument, of course, is that entire national economies are dependent upon revenue from tourism in order to stay afloat. If everyone decided to travel the way I do, the whole industry would be bankrupt within a fortnight! But I refuse to be a sucker for that kind of blackmail, and I will follow my heart and the call of the Spirit into places known and unknown in order to do my part to help build global community. That does sound a bit pompous, self important and high faluten, maybe, but I really believe, Gentle Reaqder, that every small but meaningful step we take as individuals will and does make a difference. And, no, this does not make me better than anyone else. I am simply trying to follow the path that I believe God is setting before me, and one more time to my readers who don`t believe, just chill, willya? and instead of God just try to imagine the highest possible good that you could ever conceive of, then try to go even higher than that, and we might even find ourselves on the same page. This has been rather a dull, uneventful kind of day. Following breakfast and a couple of hours of doing artwork in the breakfast room, I went out walking. I stopped in Stella`s, a bakery cafe that has turned into an overpriced tourist trap, was not served, so I walked out. The waitress did apologize when I told her that the servers at the next place I was going to were nicer. And again, I had to remind some of the locals that I speak Spanish, and that race does not indicate language. It does appear to be sinking in, but really, there are so many French, German and other European visitors here, every bit as Caucasian as me, who speak little or no English, not to mention that Spaniards and Argentinians who come here are also white, and yes, they too often end up getting spoken to in English. Because of race. You can`t win! So, I did stop in the next place, a bakery cafe called Cafe Jimenez. Unpretentious, affordable, and the lady there warmly welcomed me back since I was gone after last year when I was a regular there, and I felt like I was home again. No, it isn`t polished and elegant and so nice like Stella`s, and neither is there a beautiful garden full of flowers and birds, but the people there treat you decently, so I`m going to keep going back. They have a TV screen, usually a bain to my existence in coffee shops, but I don`t care this time. This place and the folks there are salt of the earth. And there was some interesting programming on the telly today. Bollywood dubbed in Spanish. Seriously! An East Indian (deal with it, politically correct thought police!) soap opera with Spanish dubbing. I also walked to another cafe for a fruit smoothie and more art making, then walked back, taking care to stop and rest on one of the benches at the lookout point to the Nicoya Peninsula, both on the way there and back. Now I`m back in the breakfast room at the Mariposa where I just dined on leftover pizza from yesterday. A big hug to all of you.

Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 8

Well, today I encountered even more pleasant French tourists, but I`m still not ready to eat crow. I`m vegetarian, and besides, crow meat is probably gamy and tough. And then there`s the super introverted couple in the next room. I think they`re French. I wouldn`t go so far as to call them unfriendly, as that would imply hostility, but they certainly seem to live in their own bubble. I have nicknamed them Jean Paul and Simone, after Jean Paul Sartre, the famous French existentialist philosopher who denied being an existentialist, and his longterm girlfriend, Simone de Beauvoir, the equally famous French feminist writer. I don`t know, they just seem very intense, reserved and intellectual. And they really appear completely unaware of the people around them, so, in other words, typical eggheads. Like yesterday, when I was on my way to my room (it is in a cabana, the last of a row of three rooms, all with garden entrance) when I noticed a couple of large hairy legs jutting out across the walkway, and even though I gave him fair warning, I almost tripped over his feet, so absorbed was he in whatever book he was reading. His partner was seated on the other side of their door, equally absorbed in a book. But at least she kept her feet in. Now, I am not one to look in windows, though like anyone else, I will cop a glance while walking by, and only out of the most innocent curiosity. Well, the day before yesterday, while on my way to my room, there she was standing there in a black lacy bra. I averted my eyes faster than lightning, but, well, I`m sure you know what I mean Gentle Reader. Absolutely nothing salacious going on, but both Jean Paul and Simone really seem to occupy their own little universe. At least they`re quiet. There is a cafe at the entrance to the Cloud Forest, Cafe Colibri, or Cafe Hummingbird. They have a patio with a lot of hummingbird feeders. The place seems to have gone downhill, and the patio was packed with around forty members of a tour group, all staring like teenagers in love at the few hummingbirds that still seem to want to put up with such a crowd. So, I didn`t stick around, but I did have to work on my negative attitude towards other tourists during my walk back. I am trying to be as compassionate as possible, and I do think that for a lot of people, my style of travel is just too difficult and daunting. Few people, it would seem, would even think of travelling solo, and I agree that you have to have a certain mindset and constitution in order to do this well. Especially if you don`t speak the local language, and you want to feel safe. So, tourist groups are quite the booming industry. And here in Moonteverde, I almost never come across other solo travellers. In this order, it is always couples, families, groups, and two or more friends travelling together. I guess I should feel like an oddity, but I don`t. Neither have I ever really figured out just why I travel alone. I mean, I have plenty of friends, but I`m not sure if being at close quarters like that for a month would do a lot for our friendship, and besides, I would just rather get up and go when I`m able to, without having to wait for someone else to make up their mind. I don`t know, maybe it`s just not meant to be. Same reason why I never married and had kids. It just never appeared on my radar, I guess, and, no, I do not feel like I`m missing out. Am I open to travelling with someone in the future? I don`t know. No one has asked me, and really, I feel reluctant to invite anyone, maybe for fear of being turned down, or maybe for fear that they might accept. Well, time will tell, I suppose, but if it does ever happen, I am not sharing a hotel room. I snore and so do other people, and I really don`t do very well unless I feel alone and safe within four secure walls. I honestly don`t know how so many people can hack that kind of constnt togetherness that comes with travelling with others. It would surely drive me bats. I came across quite a few cyclists today, all young Costa Rican guys done up in spandex with advertising on their jerseys, little Lance Armstrong wannabes (bring your own steroids). It almost made me feel like I was back home in Vancouver! I otherwise didn`t do a lot today. Just walked around a lot and enjoyed some spectacular viewpoints, especially of the distant Nicoya Peninsula and all the lovely forest, mountains and fields that lie between. I also made friends with a friendly dog that insisted on jumping up on me (for those of you who think I`m a dog hater, I`m not. But I have been traumatized in the past by vicious dogs, and I do have a slight preference for cats. But really, it depends on the individual dog, cat, human being, boa constrictor, take your pick) After a couple of hours with my sketchbook in an open air cafe in a hidden away spot and a lovely viewpoint, I walked around a bit, then had half of a huge pizza at Tramonti`s, the fancy schmancy Italian reaturant. I sat on the deck in the back with a beatiful view of the trees of the tropical forest, their leaves glittering like polished green gold and green fire in the afternoon sun. I had a nice chat with the waitress (are we still allowed to use that gender specific term or is it too laden with baggage of patriarchy and entrenched structural misogyny. Are any of you, my Gentle Reader, covert politically correct thought police? Just in case you want to know, my views are generally pretty progressive, but really, to everything there is, or should be, a limit!) She was born and raised here in Monteverde and together we were lamenting how much things have changed here and the way the tourist industry is really undermining this beautiful place. But we are also able to agree that this place is so beautiful that the damage is going to be limited. Unless they open a casino here, then it`s past the point of no return. This place is still overwhelmingly beautiful, the local people are lovely, and I am also meeting some decent visitors, so it ain`t all bad. A big hug for all of you from your own personal Aaron!