A Broad In Costa Rica

Extraños en la Noche

Extraños en la Noche [x-STRAH-nyohs in lah KNOW-chay] is Strangers in the Night in Spanish. Go ahead, try it... couple of extra syllables, but works pretty well. It's one of the songs The Vargas Brothers, er, Los Hermanos Vargas performed Friday night at J.R. Ribs. That was a fun night!!! Extraño, muy extraño... but fun.

Last week, just before Christmas, I saw an ad in a Costa Rica online forum. Seems a band was looking for a female country singer. That would be me. I'll sing anything, but country, bluegrass? Now that's real music.

So I called the guy, Peter. (Guess what? He's a geezer.) We decide I'll come to his house and sing a few bars. Last Friday morning, I did, we hit it off. He tells me Blue Desert - that's the band's name - has a gig that night at J.R.'s. So I put on eye-makeup, big earrings and show up, not really knowing what to expect.

It was an unusual night... altered-state unusual. First off, Peter is Dutch. Not that there's anything wrong with that. His last name is van Zijll de Jong. I can't even say it. Thank goodness he emailed it to me or I could never have spelled it. Try sounding that out. The other main guy is Fred who is also Dutch. I don't know Fred's last name, but I won't be able to say it so what difference does it make?

We get to J.R.s and there are about 10 people there, but it's only 7pm on a Friday. Turns out all 10 are with Peter and Fred. They are all Dutch, too. Half of them are Fred's family, visiting him and his wife, Aunk (it's pronounced just like you think), for the holidays; the other half live in Costa Rica. The half that lives here speaks fluent Spanish. Everyone speaks fluent English. What happened to U.S. schooling that we only learn one language (barely) and are so completely uppity about it?

And does this crowd speak English when they get together? Of course not. They speak Dutch. And they are just going on and on. Have you ever heard Dutch? It's foreign. Like German only way more musical, thank goodness. I have no idea what they are talking about, but I don't feel left out. It is fascinating and everyone is just lovely.

Turns out, Blue Desert is sharing the gig with Los Hermanos Vargas who specialize in, of all things, 60s music! Strangers (maybe technically it is 60s...) is translated into Spanish as are a couple of other songs. But mostly they sing in English: Wooly Bully, Twist 'n Shout, I Started A Joke... and I Saw Her Standing There, one of my all-time Beatles' faves:

They do a set, we do a set. I've never heard Fred's and Peter's arrangements but it doesn't matter... we muddle through, it's fun. They are happy with me, I'm happy with them. They are really good musicians, lively, musical - and they sing tons of Willie Nelson - even with a Dutch accent, it sounds great. I may have an authentic twang, but they have authentic sound. I'm very happy with the whole thing!

By the time we get to the second Vargas set, the place is about half full, about 60 people. Half of them are ticos, half are Dutch. A group of 18 Dutch people came in for dinner to hear the Dutch country group sing. (See? Altered state.) It dawns on me I'm the only gringo in the place, gringo being someone whose native language is English. I'm it. Her. That's rare... even here.

So I'm singing for the first time with a country band made up of Dutch guys and a tico drummer in a tico restaurant downtown San José on a Friday night with a half tico half Dutch audience, me the only gringa, sitting at a table where 90% of the conversation is in Dutch, 5% Spanish and 5% English. And that 5% is only for my benefit. It was really strange. And fun. I can't wait to do it again.

Melancholy Holidays

That was my excuse last week... I'm not good with holidays. Too much pressure of how it's supposed to be. Feeling guilty because I don't do it right. I am SO programmed. And not just with holidays. I'm programmed with all the ways "things are supposed to be." With schooling and expectations for the boys. With how our marriage is supposed to proceed. I hate to bring up politics, but I have been programmed by my government to be afraid of everything and look elsewhere for instructions on what to do next. Come holiday time, I'm just terrified I won't have the proper feelings of gratitude and respect. That my kids won't have a good holiday. Like they are comparing this holiday to... what? I need to have my brain washed.

Anyway, that's my excuse for last week. Now I'm just overwhelmed by everything there is to report. SO much has happened.

Last Monday, I saw my Guru at the Sat Yoga Institute. We had an hour session. He says it's not therapy. Good, because I'm not looking for therapy. It sure feels like therapy, though. I asked what should we call it since we aren't calling it therapy. The boys said we should call it Sally's Happy Time.* My Guru thinks not. He says we should call it Transformational Sessions. Too many syllables. For now, I call it Seeing My Guru. I'll write more on Robert sometime. I'm still enthralled with him and Radha, his wife who is beautiful and funny and an outrageous cook (see below). With Juan who works for them. With the whole SYI. Fascinating and feels right, whatever the hell It is.

Tuesday I saw my GYN ($50). We talked about the blood tests and she's adjusting the meds. When I still had the whole cycle thing going on, I had a week where I was a normal human being. The rest of the time, I was either a raging bitch or crying in front of the TV, watching Hallmark commercials. I shoulda been on hormones my whole life. Alas, I'd been programmed to think riding an emotional roller coaster was normal for a girl.

Wednesday, the boys and I rode the bus to San José. I am suddenly determined to master the buses around here. They are cheap, they are plentiful, you can go anywhere on a bus. Since we only have one car, if you don't know the buses, you are pretty much trapped at home. Yeeesss, you can walk. But we live on the top of a mountain. Going to town is a breeze...

Why did we go to San José? To take a class in Scientology. Going for the brain washing here... The literature always makes such sense to me. Classes are so reasonable, why not? Ryan's and mine are $43 each; Mo's is $20. We decided to take one class each, see how we like it, if we think it's valuable, if we want to take another one. Oh, I put this in green to indicate I'm whispering. Because I had to sign a piece of paper saying I wouldn't talk about the little green thetans who teach all the classes.

Just kidding. They didn't make me sign any paper.

When you home-school and home-work, you have to make an effort to get out of the house. And for the boys to meet other kids in Costa Rica, especially in the city, you have to really work at it. A few months ago, we met a lovely family who takes Scientology classes, but don't really "do" the religion. They seem perfectly normal, they get a lot out of the classes... so, what the heck? We get out of the house, ride the bus, hang out with this other family, learn something completely different. All good.

Funny, we've been here for almost two years and just now learning the buses. It's harder than you can imagine, for a myriad of reasons. The language is a huge barrier. I don't know how people do it who don't speak Spanish...

Thursday morning, I got the boys and Hal to go with me to the SYI for their Thanksgiving satsang. It was really lovely, a great way to start the day. There were about 30 people there, including my friend Candy. We all sat around the room and listened to Robert speak. I swear, when he talks you feel like you are in that movie What The Bleep. Then we went around the room and said why we are grateful. And then we ate the most fabulous brunch prepared by Rahda. All vegetarian and absolutely delicious. That'll take the edge off melancholy... We went home and slept it off, then had steak for dinner. Balance out the whole day, you know?

Friday night, we were invited to a lunata. I can't find lunata in any dictionary, but there are a bunch of people who get together once a month on the full moon at Barry's house to play music, sing, eat and hang out. All kinds of people there including teenagers! Barry LOVES country music, as do I. We sang and sang and sang - it was SO MUCH FUN. Can't wait to do that again.

And here we are: Sunday night, time for bed. Spent all afternoon singing songs, looking for songs for Barry to learn for next time, trying to learn his favorites. Looking forward to sleep, perchance a dream, to tomorrow. I'm so grateful: one big holiday down, one to go.

*In the movie Transformers which we watched last Sunday night, the mom walks into the son's room and asks who is he talking to. The son says, "No one." The mom says, "Were you masturbating?" The son says, "Mom!" The mom says, "OK, we could just call it 'Sam's Happy Time' - would that work?" The boys find this HYSTERICAL. If you have to watch a movie with your teenagers, this is actually not a bad choice. A few good laugh out loud moments.

Sarchi with Mom and Gayle

Sarchi* is about an hour's drive from here. The town is famous for two things: wooden furniture and oxcarts. The town is also known for arts and crafts, but it seems to me they make stuff to sell to tourists... not like they were going to make the stuff anyway. You know? Like oxcarts.

The oxcarts they make anyway. Tico farmers still use oxcarts to transport goods from the farm to market, complete with oxen. I see them walking down my street, loaded for bear. On my early morning walk, I pass their oxen roaming free eating grass. A little unnerving at first, but you get used to it. They are really just muscular non-aggressive cows with horns, right? Mom and Gayle wanted to see oxcarts, so we headed for Sarchi.

DISCLAIMER: Maybe from living in a tourist town for so many years, I am jaded when it comes to tourist attractions. I try to keep my cynicism at bay but it's not always possible. I'm borderline paranoid about some stuff... Some stuff deserves it: I'm from KY and remember going to a tourist attraction - KY is deservedly famous for its crafts - not far from my hometown. Every craft sold in the town had a Made in China sticker on the bottom. Didn't even have the good sense to remove the tag... Anyway. I'm suspicious. Having Mom and Gayle with me for this Sarchi-to-Arenal tour was refreshing because they like EVERYTHING and are excited by EVERYTHING - touristy or no. I had to keep my little hop-toads of wisdom to myself so as not to rain on their parade... big of me.

Sarchi is a small rural town, feels waaaaaaay out in the country to this city girl. But a really lovely little town. I used to be a country girl. One of mom's husbands was a bridge/poker player who owned a dairy farm in Indiana... I LOVED that farm. Look for those farm stories in the Mom's-Marriages.com blog coming your way one day soon. I'm thinking she is not going to find this idea as amusing as I do.

During season, I'm sure Sarchi is swamped with tourists. But now, during rainy season - and it rained the whole day - we were It. We stopped at a little coffee shop near the church for coffee and pan dulce [pahn DUEL-say, sweet bread]. Two coffees and a bag of sugar cookies was 800 colones = $1.60. Even I was impressed with how cheap it was... In Escazú, we would pay at least twice that much.

After refreshments, we headed to the biggest oxcart souvenir shop in town. You can't miss it. Rows and rows of expensive souvenirs: oxcarts in all sizes, from miniscule to gigantic, wooden furniture, kitchen stuff, boxes, jewelry, beads, hammocks, painted junk, masks, t-shirts, caps, leather bags, embroidered bags, aprons, postcards. And everything had Costa Rica written on it. Proof. I asked a shopgirl where the oxcarts were actually made and was surprised when she told me: Alfaro's. She kinda whispered it... We headed over there and found ourselves in an oxcart factory. I videotaped some of our visit:

It ends rather abruptly when my batteries died. Mr. Alpizar was about to tell me how much the yokes sell for: $200. I'm getting one for over my bed. Will Hal find this amusing? Yeah. He's good like that.

I also asked if I could buy three small wheels ($20 each) to use as table tops for our mini coffee tables in the living room. You can buy these surprisingly sturdy little tables on the roadside. This size is $4 (the ones the man is holding on the left are much smaller, probably $2). We'll paint the bases and attach the wheels which should be ready Monday. Can't wait.

Mr. Alpizar asked what base color would I like (black). The design and colors I will leave up to him. Everything I saw in his barn was so beautiful... Hal says my favorite color is confusing. A beautiful hand-painted oxcart wheel will scratch that itch nicely. Well worth the drive!!!

*On the map in the link, Sarchi is just below and slightly left of the word Alajuela in the top-half, center; Escazú is just to the left of San Jose which is at the far right edge just below center 

Oh Crap

I think my Muse died. At the very least she's on vacation 'cause the little cabin in the woods (in my mind) is empty. I've gone knocking, but the lights are out and nobody's home. No fire in the chimney, no Patsy Cline wafting throughout the compartments, helping along the synapses. [As you read the synapses link, understand that I love this kind of talk. Without Thalia, this is likely how my blog will read. NOW are you taking this seriously?]

I'm all alone here at the keyboard. It's unnerving. And I still have so much to say. Despite the fact I have not been writing, I most certainly have been doing. The details are building up and I'm going to pop if I don't get it all out. Henceforth, I'm going to have to write this all by myself. You might want to push back a little from the monitor, it could get messy.

Perhaps she left because I'm so content here lately. Every bit of my life, our lives, are just fine. Not perfect, but nice, free. No anxiety. That feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop is gone. Does a Muse require one? The play I just did was well-received and we are looking forward to bringing it back to the big Centro Cultural in San Pedro next month. The bonus for any egomaniac, er, actress, is being recognized in public. Already, people recognize me here which is so fun. Big fish in a little pond and all that.

My mom is moving here just before the play re-opens. I'm actually looking forward to that. No anxiety about it. What's THAT all about? Everyone in the world is anxious when their mother moves in with them. I'm excited. What is wrong with me?

Xavier and I went to the opening of the Symphony last Sunday and bought season tickets. The boys are enjoying their baseball. I'm meeting friends. Yesterday, we went to Sabana Parque in downtown San Jose. There are ALWAYS tons of events, games, artwork, rides, ponies, kites, you name it going on at Sabana Parque on the weekend. Plus they have an art gallery, a pool, a gymnastics gym, basketball courts, volleyball games, ALWAYS a futbol [FOO-t-bowl, not foot-bowl, it's FOO and it means soccer, not football and yes there will be a quiz] game goin' on...

We also walked through the Expo Arte Al Aire Escazú 2007, an outdoor art show near us featuring some really wonderful local artists. Prices rival Key West artists, however. Prices requiring the purchaser have an income.

I'm so content, I don't even care about income. I have absolute 100% perfect faith that we will figure something out. Ideas are coming, X is working on a couple of really good ones. I'm letting him be the breadwinner for now. So far, this is my best idea ever.

Not that I'll be slacking. I'm hard at work doing things that don't generate any income, like acting, blogging and podcasting. Yep, I'm going to be podcasting, which is like having an internet radio show. Muse or no, I still have something to say and if I can say it into a microphone, well, I can hardly think of anything more exciting. I'm only wondering what took me so long to latch onto this phenom.

My good friend, Alison Lee from my former I'm-going-to-be-a-star days in NYC, has a podcast about crafting and she's got me hooked. I'm setting up the studio (yes, spending money rather than making money... seems to be my m.o.) You will be the first to know when Show #1 hits the airwaves. I'm REALLY excited about this idea, my second best ever.

While I'm waiting for all that expensive equipment to get here, I'm going to create a new Muse. A dependable Muse. Relying on a figment of one's imagination is simply not the way to go here. I can't just write when the feeling, "the Muse," strikes. If she wants to go on vacation or move to someone else's mind, there's no stopping her. And I can't develop a resentment against a figment. What a waste of time! I will have to content myself with an occasional stopover from Thalia. Her inspirations will be most welcome. But between visits, I'm just going to have to go it alone. Brace yourself.

The Bad News Just Keeps Rollin' In

Saturday morning, 8am, checking my email with the CBS News on... so far, a young man fell thru a hole in the ice while snowboarding and they can't find him, another guy was caught trying to kidnap two young boys ('cause he saw how well it worked out for the other guy?), a travel company went out of business losing all the money for a school trip. A Catch Me If You Can wanna be just got sentenced to 303 years in prison. And, of course, ho hum, more people dead in Iraq.

Now, I'm watching that commercial for the used car dealer with the good-looking, reasonable IRS agents. Aren't there truth-in-advertising laws anymore?

I switched to NBC thinking maybe CBS just had a depressed News Director selecting the stories this morning. Nope. NBC was doing an indepth report on the homeless in Denver with a guy crying actual tears because the situation is so desperate, kids not eating and all. Now the news anchors are chuckling over unintended skylights in upstate New York. People are losing their roofs because of the 100" of snow that's fallen there over 7 days. Not funny, guys. You get my Not the-least-Bit Compassionate vote.

A Muslim on the Terror Watch List was arrested while D.U.I. Aren't Muslims forbidden to drink? I mean, how much of a "fanatic" could this guy be?

Switching to ABC just in time for the only happy news: sports. Oh, no, wait: they are replaying over and over an ice skater whipping his skate into his partner's head, her laying on the ice sobbing. I've seen it from every angle now. Good. That should stay with me.

Back to CBS just in time to see them bragging about their hidden-camera interview of so-called abusers of the Medical Marijuana law. Get a life, guys. Who cares? Let 'em smoke dope. Who are they hurting? And what? There's no REAL news, you have to create some? I guess it's somehow fitting that they stole the reverse-sting idea from the DEA...

Which brings me to today's REAL question: what constitutes news? What do we need to know to keep on top of what's happening in our world? I'm so confused after years of this brainwashing, I really don't know. Yet. What I'm watching this morning is the most sensational news presented in the most sensationalized manner. Designed to grab your attention, appeal to the "I can't look away" in all of us... so you are still watching when the advertiser comes on. Like the used car guy.

Here's today's scarier question: is this what U.S. citizens want to see? It must be. Tell me it isn't so. Tell me this is what the networks think we want to see. That we really just want to see the facts. Even if it isn't true. Lie to me.

News in Costa Rica, like in most developing nations, is no better. On the news here, you witness every bloody, violent detail of car wrecks, dog attacks, you name it. I appreciate that there's no false modesty or pretense involved. Certainly no hidden-cameras creating news here. Yet.

My choice for news weekday mornings is CNBC. I don't understand most of it, but there are lots of colors and charts and cheerful anchors and CEOs talking about stock performances and ROIs. Correspondents shouting over the hoopla On The Floor. All happy, happy people. Stocks are exciting again. Sure, everyone refers to the certain correction coming right along, but they're having so much fun until then. Besides, if you are prepared for a correction, it won't hurt badly, right? Hey, it's only a timely correction, expected and all that. I want some of that glee. I'm going to CNBC right now. This newsday could use a reboot!

Christmas in Costa Rica

Like small Catholic developing nations everywhere, Jesus is big in Costa Rica. So his birthday next week is cause for celebration and pageantry. Huge is too small a word. In fact, there are fireworks going off down in the valley as I write this. (Fireworks are legal here.)

In the states, we shake our heads sadly when Kmart puts on their Christmas push before Thanksgiving. Here, store decorations are up mid-October, before Halloween. Which is NOT big here, though steeped in scary legends. And, with no Thanksgiving, there is nothing to get in the way of a full-out Christmas sales event for the preceding two and a half months.

We drive past this spot frequently. It's usually an empty dirt patch... then one day, this appeared. Just in my daily life, I pass by five roadside stores just like this that appeared overnight, all selling tons of the same junk. Clearly, the entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well in Costa Rica! It's all mostly yard decorations... creches made out of sticks and blow-up santas. Tons of other necessary paraphernalia... the stuff you can't do without to celebrate the birth of Jesus properly.

On closer examination, perhaps paraphernalia is not an event-appropriate word. Seeing as how Joseph and Mary weren't married yet. We'll have to call that stuff something else, something simple like stuff. We don't have any of that stuff this year, not a tree, not a ball, not a gift, not a light, not an icicle. We are going Jewish this year. The Bortmans told us how: Chinese food and a movie.

Of course, we'll have to cook our own Chinese food and watch a movie on TV because NOTHING will be open. You can't buy any stuff that day... That's how big Christmas is in Costa Rica!

Pura Vida M&Ms

We live in a strange and wonderful world. I live in it with my not-so-strange and oh-so-wonderful friend, Jan. Who has kept me supplied with the essentials: Triscuits, fuzzy socks, romantic novels and, now, personalized M&Ms. Who'd a thunk it?

Jan and I met in Los Angeles when we both worked at the Oar House (a bar) and Buffalo Chips (the attached hamburger joint) back in the '70's. I fondly refer to those as my wild party girl days: I would drink 3 entire [name your liquor concoction here], giggle relentlessly, than pass out. Talk about your cheap date.

Jan was my roommate and the BEST bartender at the Oar House. When a bartender got a tip, you'd ring your bell. Jan's bell never stopped. The only thing louder was her laugh. She entertained, she listened, she knew your name. If she knew your story, she never told. She would have a theme for her Saturday night shift complete with costume, lights, props. She taught me a thing or two. When I was awake.

We lost touch for a few years then found each other again. She'd married Henry, Tortilla Chip Magnate and a diver, and they were coming to Key West for a dive trip. I'd been in real estate for few years by that time and, guess what, so was she. We had a good laugh over that! Some things make perfect sense.

Jan is one of those rare True friends. You KNOW if you needed her, she would be there, no excuses, no hemmin' and hawin'. She knows what's important. Like chocolate and trashy novels. Yessiree, life is good. Just like those M&Ms were. Pura vida, Saratica

Officially Pho-toed:

Jimmy Dean is over but the fun just keeps comin'! These photos were taken by a local enthusiast... he must be a professional, they look really good and sharp. Meet the gals and guy I spent the last eight weeks getting to know. Lovely people, every one. I've been hanging out with a nice crowd, eh?

I'm A Believer

No, I'm not writing about The Monkee's song. As great as it is.

I'm writing about the Cosmic Trigger Event happening next Tuesday, October 17, 2006. Fascinating. How do people figure this stuff out? What makes them look? I'm not clear on that at all. No matter: I'm marking that day on my calendar. Maybe if we all send positive thoughts, send that energy out into the world, wars will cease. Hunger will end. Tibet will be freed. Darfur will... I can't even talk about Darfur.

But a whole day of Cosmic Triggering has gotta do some good. It's GOT TO help. Voting and writing to senators isn't helping at all.

So. Mark your calendars now. What the heck? How cool to be one of millions of people sending good vibes around the world?!? Love and peace has to start somewhere, right?

Love and Peace, S.

P.S. Ken Herft Jr sent me notice of this event. He's the documentary filmmaker who produced The Hidden People about the Bribri people of Costa Rica. He focuses on Don Candido, a medicine man, who I plan to meet one of these days. Fascinating.

Oh Romeo, Romeo, dónde está, Romeo?

For my birthday celebration tonight, we watched Franco Zefferelli's Romeo and Juliet. The boys are diving into a little Shakespeare in homeschool and this movie burned a place in my heart 38 years ago. I remember the first time I saw it like it was yesterday. Was I more in love with Olivia Hussey or Len Whiting? I saw it at least 10 times. It took my breath away. And did you know that Laurence Olivier did the narration?

We all enjoyed it tonight, even the boys hung on every word. Of course, you have to so you know what is going on. West Side Story is still a big hit at our house... the boys love that movie, so they knew the plot. The story actually is timeless... except I never heard so much fake crying in my life! Did I believe it back in 1968? Who cares. Len Whiting's butt is still cute. I mean in the movie. Now, who knows? That was some 30 odd years ago. Things change.

But, soft, here's one thing that will never change:

"Capulet, Montague,
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.
And I for winking at your discords, too
Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are puni-shed. ALL ARE PUNI-SHED!"

That's war for you. All are puni-shed. Romeo and Juliet briefly replaced The Sound of Music as my all-time favorite movie. Briefly. Novice Maria and the Von Trapp Family singers stole back into my heart in no time. I can recite that entire movie. "I Have Confidence" was my favorite song back then. Julie Andrews sings it as she's riding the bus, leaving the convent, heading to the Von Trapp home for the first time, swingin' that guitar. These days, I'm humming "Something Good". Living in Costa Rica, that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop is fading away. Fifty-one years is long enough to wait. I think I'll stop.