Come on kids! We’re going to the park!

My New Year’s day enthusiasm was met with middle-of-the-road compliance. But we loaded up the gear: stroller, drinks, blanket, ball, Addison’s change of clothes and other odds and ends to make our morning walk in the park a simple walk in the park. It was anything but.

Twenty minutes into the walk, Coco declared she was hungry. I was thrilled to hear this since she didn’t finish her well-balanced breakfast. Then, she protested the route we were taking, which was like saying six was better than 1/2 of the other.

A few years ago in Sabana park, the city replaced the rusty metal gym bars with wooden sets. Though a site for soar eyes, they are already broken and in need of repair. Addison can only attempt a few slides as the others are cracked and broken. The physics of the whole set is a tad off also. Climbing boards are a tad too high and slides are really steep. Any thought for small children was not even considered. Forget special needs kids. But we made do. We always do.

After Coco smacked her knee on a plank, we decided to move on. I cracked open a bottle of aqua de pipa for Addison. As we rounded the lake, he promptly threw it in the sludgy, green water and began to scream. I knelt on the edge of a bank praying I wouldn’t all in, waiting for the empty bottle to drift towards me. I reached over and grabbed it. We deposited it in an empty bread bag we fed the ducks.

On the way back around the lake, we all paused next to a dead duck. It looked like a statue. A big stick was right behind it. We hated to venture that the poor thing had been hit over the head during the night. I remember when I first came to the Sabana Lake. I was not going to feed the ducks! Feeding them only encourages them to loose their fear of humans. Loosing their fear of humans means they are at risk of getting hit over the head in the night by someone who’s perhaps tipped back a few. But today, with children begging me to feed them, I cave in. This is one issue I am truly torn on.

We finally circled back to the car where I had cleverly parked next to a man who would chop open a whole bunch of coconuts to garner sufficiente for Addison for the week. We waited by the old tree stump as he chopped away, pouring all the liquid into a plastic bucket I brought. The kids wandered over to watch our favorite squirrel feeding on coconuts.

Coco was bitter that her favorite, greasy potato chips were not available. She settled on candy, covered peanuts. As we loaded into the car, she spilled her entire coconut with the straw sticking out onto her lap. Addison cried because I lost my cool a bit. I looked down because my white capri pants were covered in dirt. And they were new.

At least traffic was almost non-existant because most people were either at the beach or still at home sleeping. As I tried to pull onto the pista, a bus pulled in alongside my car. He started chatting with the guy who chops the coconuts. I sat and sat and waited until I had to laugh. No one takes a walk in the park like we do. No one.

I’ve been to weddings where brides have paid a small ransom to have the cala lily bunched up and tied with ribbons for that perfect day. Then, I wander up the hillside for a day, and I am reminded how gorgeous and plentiful they are right here in Costa Rica.

Clumps of them grow easily in higher elevations. They sit there as if to say: it’s a pleasure to meet you. My elegance I set before you.

The funny thing is that no one takes advantage of their beauty here either. Though we don’t have to pay a fortune for them (I can buy a bouquet of them at any time for $5.00!), everyone oogles at the long stems and sleek bend in the trumpet.

On the way down the mountain, our group thought possibly I’d taken the wrong road. There’s so many options to choose when coming down a mountain, some of the roads look alike. I stuck to the theory: as long as I’m going down, I will find the bottom and get where I need to go.

We passed more clumps of lilies and big, round, head-sized hortensias and I couldn’t help wonder, why do we think we’re on the wrong road? Perhaps I was supposed to drive this way all along.

I was one of those people terrified by Jaws. In fact, it made me even a little nervous to swim in lakes! But last Saturday, as I sat flipping channels I came upon this documentary about sharks. When Costa Rica appeared in the film, I was enraged and saddened and felt so much shame for this beautiful land. At some point, we humans have got to realize doing “business” doesn’t mean we get to do whatever we want. When the sharks go, we’ll choke on our own juices.

Cocos Island is an island off the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. It’s a national park that perhaps has one of the biggest populations of sharks per cubic yard than anywhere else on the planet. A place that’s so threatened, sharks are dying by the thousands. And pretty soon, we won’t be able to breath. How are they dying? They are being slaughtered for a bowl of soup. Shark fin soup. A delicacy in China and Asia, the fins are eventually sold for hundreds of dollars per pound as the rest of the bodies are thrown back into the ocean.

I’m sad to say Costa Rica’s record is hideous on this issue. Evidence, including physical and film footage show our peaceful, eco-tourist land as instead a place where those who wish do as they will; kill as they please.

Sharks are the largest predator in the sea for a reason: they control the water ways and keep balance. We can not pluck what we wish for a tasteless bowl of soup. And this may sound far and distant, but there is something you can do.

• Never buy a bowl of shark fin soup. When you are traveling in Costa Rica, you may see this on the menu. Refuse, tell the owner why. We’ve got to start educating.
• Never buy any shark products: shark cartilage has not been proven in any way to benefit health. Plus, we’ve so poisoned our waters that the cartilage carries a very high amount of mercury.
• Never buy any other product made from sharks like shark tooth necklaces. The species is now so much danger, we can not afford to support anything that condones the killing.
• Get educated. Even a little helps. There’s Sharkwater and videos on-line and other documentaries to get us all educated on the importance of these creatures in our lives.

Yet at the end of the film as I sat in tears and watched the slaughter and I was about to give up hope, I saw the people of Costa Rica. The people of Costa Rica went to the streets and said no more!

That doesn’t mean it’s far from over. Shark finning is BIG money second only to drug money. But change always starts with the individual. Our consumer choices do make a difference. Our willingness to say NO, even just once to the injustices will have a ripple effect. For you never know when the scales will tip. Our choice is on which side to stand. I may never dive or even see a shark, but I’ve learned to swim with the sharks, for you know, they really are the air we breath.

A reader, who’s on her way to moving to Costa Rica, wrote me about the terror of being without books. I know the feeling. A few days ago, I posted a story about how wonderful it is to have those books piling on tables and sitting about as they are real food for the soul. But in Costa Rica, getting that food can be quite the journey.

I’ve run more books through the xray machines at the airport than anything else. Once, I had a small suitcase so stuffed with books, the woman made me open it up because it was so darned heavy. Once she saw the books, she yawned and said: Next! That was before so many weight restrictions, and when I could bring two suitcases per person as “check-ons.” However, hauling my literature over the border is still the most reliable form of replenishing my stocks.

Once and awhile, I’ll ship books to an address. Many ex-pats get courier mail services such as Jet Box or Aerocasillas. I’ve had good and bad luck with both services. And there are several other services as well. You’ll have to research which one suits you best. Some services charge monthly; most charge extra according to weight limitations per month. The benefit? It’s usually much more expensive to ship over seas; you’ve got a U.S. mailing address; supposedly it’s more secure. The disadvantages? It costs, and even though it should be more reliable than the Costa Rican mail (in theory), I can’t say it is.

The Costa Rican mail service is another option. The trick is getting a P.O. box is often impossible. The “mail carrier” should deliver right to you porton or patio. I mail almost everything outgoing through the Costa Rican mail service. I find it inexpensive and everything has arrived at the other end. With the courier service and the mail service, incoming stuff gets lost. I think it either gets sucked up in the mysterious world of customs up on the hill by the airport, or perhaps it drops into the sea on the tiny plane over the trip over from Miami, or I think it even gets lost behind someone’s desk.

If you are going to move here you must accept this: The mail life you’ve known of reliable, rain, sleet, snow, and all that shall end. Your electric and light bill may get stuck in the fence and hopefully you’ll find it before the wind or rain sweeps it away. There are no addresses here with a nice, orderly system. We live on physical descriptions. (After all these years I am still amazed that this actually works - plus! - I understand how to do it!!)

I no longer have anyone ship boxes to me as I’ve gotten nailed with ridiculous taxes on everything from books to baby clothes to strollers. I ship one, maybe two books, if they’re not the War and Peace size, to either a P.O. box or the Miami courier. Stick with envelopes. For some reason, customs doesn’t get as interested in them.

Going to live way out in the thick of paradise? Far away from civilization like you’ve always dreamed? The mail service gets trickier. The first thing I would do is grap a Gringo and ask them what they do. Friends I know that live full-time on the beach have a P.O. box and no courier service. They even have packages sent on the bus. For a small price, one could have a friend get a package in San Jose and drop it off at the bus station. People I know have had good luck with this. It doesn’t hurt to get really friendly with your nearest post office. Eye to eye contact and friendships go along way in keeping your life stocked with the next good read.

Within Costa Rica, there’s a few options I’ve mentioned before such as Libreria International, where you can also get a nice cup of coffee and get a “sort of” Barnes and Noble cafe feel. The English selection is limited. But I’ve been surprised at some of the authors I’ve seen such as Doris Lessing, John Irving, and David Sedaris. They do have a fun kid’s section. I often find myself there buying gifts for kids or grabbing a new challenge for my daughter’s pallet. There are other book stores such as Libro Max, yet their English selection is more limited. As for exchanges, as I mentioned a few posts ago, readers bond and share. Bagelman’s has a small swap as do other cafes and small restaurants like Big Mike’s. There’s also Lexicon Library and the Mark Twain Library at the North American Cultural Center in Los Yoses.

Once the books are here be prepared to keep them clean. If you are out there in the thick of paradise, know that the tropics eats books. For the few books I hauled to my beach home, the pages always seemed wet. Dehumidfiers? Air conditioned rooms? Again, grab that nearby Gringo for some good advise. Here in San Jose, I have my collection in book shelves with doors (that don’t actually shut because they’re warped). It at least keeps the mounds of dust off them, though I still have to get in there and clean them about once a year. If you have lots of hardback books such as “coffee table books” be sure to open them once or even twice a a year and wipe the inside and back covers off. I use alcohol as it kills the mold and dries quickly.

Moving to Costa Rica has slowed my book purchasing power down. Perhaps it’s a good thing as i can actually read all those I haven’t read. My friend the other day didn’t have such a bad idea in charging his visitors a “six book” fee when they come down. However you manage your book life after you move to Costa Rica, if you are an avid reader like me, you’ll find a way. We just have to because I can only read the back of a cereal box so many times!

After all those big events in life: Graduation; marriage; babies; the purchase of your first sofa - ever wonder what’s next?

Instead of wandering around aimlessly, my friend and co-producer of SunStruck Radio decided to ask that very question.

Listen to our third broadcast of the soon-to-be award winning podcast (do they have awards for such things?)

What’s Next?

Anna Jordan interviews Fred Tank from Michigan while he visited Costa Rica about his next big transition: Retirement. The discussion is insightful and touching.

We also track down people and ask them what you always wanted to know:

If money, time, or anything else was a barrier, what would you do tomorrow. If only you could? The answers are exactly what you’d think they’d be and more.

Plus we have stories and a few other things to entertain you. So tune in, to shownumber three at SunStruck Radio won’t you? Or subscribe here. Paradise is waiting.

And of course a great round of applause for all of our original music provided by Toby Tune.

Every time we go to la Sabana park, I tease the nannies that they need to get up on the zip-line. Each one laughs, yet at the same time looks up and marvels at what a thrill it would be to fly across this cable over the park.

The first platform is located at the back end of the lake near the community building. I’m not quite sure why young handsome men must always run these operations, but so be it. (Perhaps a law of physics I’ve yet to learn.)

Many years ago, I rode through the treetops in a forest outside the city of Oratina. When I reached the platform, I felt I’d been invited to a secret bird house. I was about to fly in a little bit of the heavens that the birds get to experience every day. The ride itself? Amazing and terrifying. On the first “zip” to the second tree, there was not a lot of time to think. All the worrying must be done ahead of time: What if I fall? What if I smash into the tree like Tom chasing Jerry? What if the line snaps? What if? What if?

Thrill rides are like mini-moments of what life can be like, if we suspend all those worries and live just in that moment. I suppose that’s why we climb mountains and jump off cliffs. Here’s the trick though - and it’s no Secret: We manifest how we live in the moment. Wow. That’s a lot of responsibility.

At the end of our walk in la Sabana, we watched one of the outfitters as he scaled the cable backwards. Hand over hand he pulled. His mentor stood below him on the path next to us and yelled up at him to “dig deeper” and “push harder.” The first 100 meters went pretty fast, but at the end, a slight incline made the last 50 meters so much more difficult.

The thrill of the adventure quickly wears off. The real work starts when we return to level ground. Climbing backwards up a cable is nothing compared to facing the morning again, and again, and again. Atop the platform of life we stand with the choice to soar like a falcon. Now that’s an adventure in paradise.

I thought it would be a good idea to take the kids to the zoo. Zoo Ave. is a zoo and ecological reserve located in La Garita, Costa Rica about 30-40 minutes from San Jose, give or take traffic. I’ve taken my mother, father, and sister here. It’s a great way to walk through the fresh air and get a close up look at a lot of species that are otherwise difficult to see in the jungles.

The kids were thrilled to be in the car, and we arrived full of hope and promise like Hansel and Gretel stumbling upon the candy house. After paying the entrance, I would have thought I was walking through this lovely zoo with a witch and a warlock.

The macaws greeted us on the first trail. The Zoo raises funds to help educate the public and also offers services to rehabilitate wounded and discarded wild animals that at one time someone thought would make a good pet. The moment we left the parrots, the trip went down hill.

Coco, who’s danced in this zoo like Dorothy on her way to Oz, suddenly at the age of seven decided she was scared of 3/4 of the animals. That doesn’t leave much room for fun. When we approached the crocodile snoozing in the sun, she cowered behind me and refused to look.

The nanny, Addy, and I decided to enjoy the view and stared at the thing. It looked artificial. Finally, we saw the nose holes move in and out and we moved on to the deer. Addison wasn’t impressed. We moved on.

After the titi monkeys - an endangered monkey in Costa Rica - Addison had a melt down. Coco perked up a bit at the monkey exhibit. And then we approached the ostrich display, she wandered around with a stick and poked at the fence. If I hadn’t pointed out the avestruz, she’d have missed them.

And I'm here because???

I wondered that until we hit the end of the zoo. They've added a cute little soda. With an espresso machine! Perhaps it was a long way to come for a coffee, but what better company than a peacock to share a morning with. No matter what my kids think.

I can’t believe I’ve lived in Costa Rica for eleven years, and I’ve never been to the Ojo de Agua. It’s like living in the three miles from the capital of Luisiana and never driving down to actually see the State building. Those are things for school field trips.

Water therapy is great for Addison. The big bonus is that at Ojo de Agua, the water comes from an underground well. It’s water you can drink. No chlorine. It’s not from the tap. It’s the really good stuff from inside the earth before we humans screw with it.

It cost $1.00 to park and then another $5.00 for two adults and one child - Addison at three was free. My English speaking nanny loves to reminisce. She took us on a stroll through the park. Up a ramp was the actual Ojo de Agua. It doesn’t take a good hard look to see that it is not a real eye of anything other than a slab of cement. However, throughout Costa Rica, these springs erupt and have been trapped by entrepruenerial minded people.

From the vista of the eye, there are pools for swimmers, kids, and aerobic enthusiasts. First thing you notice when I touched the tip of my toes into the water: It’s COLD! Spring water is like that. The round pool is for kids. Though a bit short for Coco, she warmed up to it a little bit. Addison was into it. I was a bit concerned about that peeling paint on the bottom. Though, as my nanny noticed, there is not a tiny bit of mold anywhere. (She also said they come with crews at night and clean the entire place with chlorine, which also concerns me.) Be that as it may…..

We moved from pool to pool; snacked; and packed up for home. It’s always like that with my kids: short and to the point with a simple outing gets as much juice as an expensive, over-done day where I’ve spent too much money and go home regretting it. There’s a “man-fed” lake, which was green and funky. But what “man-fed” lake isn’t? I guess there are tennis courts, boating, and picnic areas, we partook in none. It was all I could do to dry the kids off and get Addison home before nap time so the nanny and I could have a break and eat hot dogs and tortillas in peace.

Under a pile of yet unpacked books from my trip to the States a few weeks ago, I found a SkyMall magazine. FREE COPY - TAKE IT. WE’LL REPLACE IT! So I did.

After Addison thoroughly looked over the safety flight brochure that hangs in the pouch on the back seat pocket of the plane, he’d slide it into the sleeve and pull out the SkyMall. He found the it thrilling, especially photos of dogs like the cute little Yorkie in a Cool Vest, which regulates the mutt’s body heat. (I thought that was what panting was for, but what do I know?) We’d flip further and find The Pet’s Observation Porthole. This is a round plastic window fitted into a fence so the dog can safely peer through the plastic at passerby’s. There’s the Coolaroo Dog Bed; the PupSTEP for the pet who needs a little help getting up on the furniture; or my favorite: the Hidden Litter Box. It’s a fake plant with a hole in the pot, which holds the kitty litter.

With its Tuscany handfinish, our new Hidden Litter Box looks like a real clay pot, complete with an attractive, artificial decorator plant. Simply turn the entrance to the wall and no one will know (if your cat doesn’t tell)!……A set of two provides decorative balance and your feline friend with both a cozy hideaway and concealed litter box.

Who doesn’t look at the SkyMall? What a perfect location to put a magazine of products we can live without but all fantasize about having: floating wireless speaker for the pool; digital camera swim mask; the world’s largest write-on mural map; and the Multi-functional Margaritaville and complimentary carrying case (shipped for free). And the joy! these things! can bring! to your life! Exclamation points abound to excite us about less germs! Cleaner floors! Colder draft beer right in your home! And easy access storage under the bed!

I can’t look at the SkyMall too long on the plane because I get motion sick even when the craft is not moving. Just the smell of the plane makes me sick. So, I flipped the pages for Addison and pointed out every animal I could to help pass the hour and one-half we sat on the tarmac. Though I can scoff at almost every item in the magazine, there’s the little shopper in me that would just love to have the Perfect Travel Partner or the Cargo Organizer that eliminates spills and clutter! in the car.

SkyMall has been a fixture in flying for as long as I’ve suffered through economy class. Though I’ll never pick up the phone and credit my card for an upside down tomato garden or the pool and pond remote display, I’ll look. Sending things to Costa Rica, though entirely possibly, is as annoying as airline travel. Even though there are laws on “what can be brought into the country; what is to be taxed or not, and how much I can recieve” - it always costs more. Besides shipping, there’s the random custom’s tax -impuesto de la aduana - tacked on by a guy I never see who’s decided through some ancient ritual akin to Tarut reading that my package should be charged whatever moves him that day. Better to live without it.

So, I’ll keep it in a pile and every once and awhile, I’ll peek through it again. It’s almost as satisfying as having that piping-hot mini doughnut maker - the Dough-Nu-Matic right in my kitchen. Almost.

Looking back, I don’t remember the pain in my feet or the ache in my hips. That’s the funny thing about life, we have the ability to remember the good parts. Even the hard parts were good. Here’s until next year, when we’ll try it all over again!