Home on the Range

It's Saturday and I've been home for 3 whole days.  I'm still trying to adjust.  Trying to reorganize my room as I have moved from the garage into a bedroom here.  I've had to go through all my clothes as they don't fit.  Things are still a disaster.  I've been nauseated and had stomach pain since Thursday.  I've self diagnosed myself with an exotic parasite, pregnancy, kidney infection and a colon blockage.  The current diagnosis is dehydration and stress.

I have no idea what to do next.  Aside from cleaning up this room, the house and the cat puke.  I've talked to Coco at least once a day.  He says he can't believe how much he misses me.  Just when I think I shouldn't go back I think about him and can't stand the thought of never seeing him again.

Now before you say "Why doesn't he just come here" let me tell you it's not that simple.  For a couple reasons.  1. It's almost impossible for Latinos to get a visitor visa not to mention a work visa, and he would need to work if he was here very long.  2.  He has a child support situation that requires him to pay one year upfront before he can consider leaving the country.

He lived in Chicago for a while in his early 20's and had no problem getting all the necessary visas.  But times have changed.  They have to pay around $150 to even apply for the visa, go to San Jose for an interview with no guarantee of receiving it.

So I'm left with the travel bag.  But of course I don't mind going back.  But there are logistics involved with the house, the cats and of course the lack of cashola.

So hear I sit in bed this weird Saturday wondering what the hell I'm going to do with my life.  I guess I'll start by trying to get rid of the headache and stomach pain. And maybe look at something cute like bunnies and kitties.  

The Art of Sleep

The small commuter airport for Sansa airline is right next door to SJO which really isn't that large of an airport.  I rolled my big bag down the street and up the side walk.  Paid my exit tax checked my bag. I had to take my empty big back pack out of the suite case so it was under 50lbs. I now had an empty back pack as my second carry one.  No big deal.  I even had time for a nasty sandwich and a beer.  Hair of the dog hangover cure. Didn't help my heartache though. 

I was upgraded to business class which was a nice surprise for flying standby.  I watched some HBO and other TV and didn't really sleep.  I guess I was too sad.  I ate a snack and drank tomato juice.

I had to fill out the customs and immigration form that always needs filled out when arriving a new country or returning to the good old United States of America.   I forgot about these questions! "11.I am bringing... d. Soil or have been on a farm/ranch/pasture:  yes or no"    "12.  I have(we have) been in close proximity of (such as touching or handling) livestock: yes or no"   Opps.  I don't know if you've ever been to secondary screening, but it's not pleasant.  They are rude and treat you like a criminal.  I opted to answer NO!  Hell no, I wasn't anywhere near a farm, pasture or livestock.  (if you want to hear my 8lb Parmesan cheese story when I returned for Italy just let me know)

Made it through customs and immigration no problem.  No anal searches or bag searches.  The food/drug dog sniffed at me a couple times and the rude beagle even jumped up and put his front feet on my back to smell my backpack.

I ate a Checkers hamburger, fries and 2 large coca-colas which was a mistake and I was crappy my guts out two hours later.  It was probably for the best that I didn't get on the stand by flight to SLC.  I was to stay the night with my friend in Salt Lake and catch the morning flight to PDX.  Instead I slept in the Atlanta airport.  Well, sleep is a relative term.  I slept some in between people walking by, cleaning people dusting and cleaning people vacuuming.  So many 2.5 hours total, curdled up with my backpack and borrowed red Delta blankets. 

I miraculously got on the first flight to PDX and was home by noon.  Thank you Christine for picking up this heartbroken zombie of a traveler!  My bad had a nice trip to SLC without me and I was able to pick it up that night.  Homeland security had searched it again, repacking it like a monkey might.  Breaking my iphone charger and basically making a mess of things.  Thankfully my easel didn't break. 

This One Wild & Precious Life

 'Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?'
-Mary Oliver
"The Summer Day"


(Mostly)Transcribed directly from my written journal with some details and info so it makes sense to someone other than myself.

June 18th 2012

This is what a drunk wake up looks like

On a plane from Puerto Jimenez to San Jose with 9 other gringos.  Oh how I hate hearing English & the stupid things tourists say.  This morning I woke up at 7:38 with a start!  We went to sleep after 3am.  Took 2 shots of rum and was at the airport by 8:15.  I had to stop by Williams on the way to get the last of my mail. My birthday mail and he basically mauled me while Coco and the farm owner lawyer were waiting in the car for me.  He honestly thought this entire time I'd come back to him.  He had told me the night before that the two woman who told me about his lying and cheating had lied and ruined his life.  I felt sorry for him.

My luggage weighed 53.85 there was a $16 over weight fee I gave them a $20 and didn't get my change.  Typical.  I had everything in the beige suite case, including my now empty large back pack.  I left all my ruined, too large clothes, and ones I hated behind.  I weighed 135 with my clothes and shoes on.  I weight 130 when I graduated high school.  I was shocked.  At the airport Coco bought us 2 pipas frias (fresh cold coconuts to drink) and a coca-cola to help with what would soon be a hangover. 

Airport.  Yikes, I had 3 hours of sleep, drunk & crying already

Coco walked me to the outside gate at the small airport where we drunkenly said good bye and that we'd miss each other and that I'd be back soon.  Kissed and I turned and walked away.  I didn't look back.  I couldn't as I knew I'd totally loose it.  We taxied down the run way to turn around to take off, but by the time the plane got back to where Coco had been I didn't see him.  I cried 1/2 the way to San Jose.  A one hour plane ride.

Written on the plane(Keep in mind I was still drunkish):

I still don't know if Coco really loves me but how could he not?  With all the BS we both put up with?  I love his smell. and his smile. So much laughing together about stupid stuff. I am going to me him so much.  Crying again.  Raw emotion.  Cut open like the coconut I drank.  I don't know why my wall wont rebuild. Why after a year of feeling I can't shut it down?  I told Coco I don't want to end up alone.  I used to think that was my dream.  A small house, kitties, garden, alone.  But I really want someone to share with. Someone to take car of and to take care of me.  If nothing else, & inspire of the craziness we had we always took care of each other even when angry. 

I don't know if I will or if I can come back to CR. to PJ. But i want to.  There is something about the heat, sweat, water, ocean, crazy wild 1950's frontier attitude that calls to me. 

I've really only been in love a few times. (and to clarify I was not in love with William) And I know it can be temporary. But will I find another person that I look at the same way.  That makes me laugh & smile even mid crazy booze binge?  I have issues about certain things, that is for sure, so if I had only 2 episodes in 4 months, that's pretty good.  The therapy must be working. ha.  I have 3 letters to read.  Read William his card from my Gram this morning, she thanked him for delivering my mail.

So glad I did all the packing last night!  I'm regretting not turning to wave and or blow a kiss but he hates crying & I was drunk.  but still we said we love you to each other and that I will come back.

Still on Sansa Plane.  Just read my bday cards and am crying again.  Follow you heart & not what others say.  recurring theme.  Costa Rica is crazy and strange and beautiful and full of things I can't understand and expensive and full of liars.  and I love it.

The shots, pipas and coca-cola are wearing off and I feel a bit sick.  I hope I don't puke and make it to my next flight no problemo.  If/when I return I will need mas Espanol. I need a plan for cash and Spanish.  Damn this hangover headache!  I'm sure the other American look at me as if I'm a freak.  Or a tweaker, as that's how I feel today.  And I honestly don't give a shit.  I farted and it stunk like crazy.  and i don't care at all.  These other Americans have no idea what I've been thought.  As they lounged in their resorts speaking only to other English speakers living their resort vacation lives.  I was really living the pure life.  Pura Vida with doesn't translate how we think pura vida.  Live now.  Live in the now.  Not in the past .  Not yesterday not tomorrow.  Play all for nothing.  Live in the now.  Solamente for the today & tomorrows another day. Tomorrows another day.  Forgive, forget, and live for the moment.

My ears are plugging as we descend to SJO.  My heart breaks but is happy to have lived all the things. Good and bad.  I lived it.  I lived it.  I will keep living it today. Now.

Postcards from the Past

Front of post card

To: Serena Van Vranken
Portland Oregon USA
Post date: 09.15.2008
Muchen (Munich Germany)

Sitting in this pavilion across from te cello player in the center of a garden in the middle of Munich.  I feel so lucky, so inspired, so alive - where to now? I wonder.  I dream.  My heart lays exposed. Layers of calluses are gone.  It's painful to return.  If i do anything else but live fully after this I will be amazed & ashamed of myself.

Yours Truly,
Serena


I guess it's always hard for this gypsy heart to return home.

Actual post card - spelling errors and all.  :)

June 13th, my 23rd Birthday

The neighbor sent us some nice cheese and Coco made me surprise empanadas from scratch. 
We later went to town and had a couple beers with Coco's bro, bought some rum and came back to the house to celebrate.  I neglected to eat dinner and was blacked out shortly after returning to the house.  I can't drink rum.  But that's what everyone drinks here.  Anyway I hear I had a good time.  Mario told me I'm welcome here anytime, this farm is my home.  And he gave me the little machete i like to carry.  Hopefully it makes it home with me.  I will also return to my slow drinking habits when I get home. 

Memories of June 14th 2012

Not for the faint at heart or vegans.   Note: I was not pleasantly surprised to find photos and video this morning of the following account.

So the thing about waking up drunk is that there is time to ward off the hang over by continuing to drink.  But then if you aren't careful you are looking at a 2 - three day bender.  Not pretty.  But that's not really what this post is about.  Thursday morning I woke up to the sound of the english rock station blaring due to Coco's bro Abraham turning it on and laughing.  Nothing like a little Kiss & their "rock & Roll all Night" to roll you out of bed to drunkenly feed the squawking birds.  I won a 500 colonies ($1) bet from abraham tho for feeding the birds, but didn't win his silver necklace since I wasn't up by 5:30 am.

Pre cutting

So all of us are up for some reason, Mario(the farm owner) is in his grey tighty underwear chasing the bull.  Next Coco joins him.  Apparently Mario while still drunk and with no sleep has decided that the bull is too much trouble with his balls.  Running away to the next heard all the time, and earlier this week he even brought them home!  4 cows, a baby and the bull from the next farm came home with him for what I can only guess would be a cow sex party.

As the morning proceeds, Abraham and I are on the deck watching the crazy ass Mario chase the bull in his undies with Coco's assistance.  The next thing we know, the bull is tied on the ground, the knife sharpener and knife in hand and Mario is removing the bulls balls.  Then I'm being beckoned to bring the coffee to stop the bleeding.  But since I didn't know anything about coffee and bull balls, I brought the pot of coffee.  I am running back and forth in the field with the coffee pot, then the dry coffee, then the purple stuff to stop infection, and the dog to help lick the wound to stop the bleeding.  The bull finally had enough and fought his way up, squishing Coco's hand in the rope, as Coco was sitting on top of the bulls side trying to hold him down while Mario literally sliced off the balls. 

Then I've been handed the balls to carry back to the house with the bloody dog.  I'm not sure why this happened or why I was able to do this.  Thank you rum that was still in my system.  The bull went off to think about his new ball-less life.  Appearing only to be a little sad and confused.  I'm sure there was pain involved but not enough for him to make much noise or passout or put up much of a fight really.

After bringing all the crazy things back to the house I took Osa the dog to the river to wash off the blood.  There I decided to attempt the cold water soaking out the booze therapy and sat in the river.  Mario shortly joined me blood covered and still in his ridiculous underwear.  We talked of farms and land.  Shortly joined by Coco.  The three of us fully clothed laying in the cold river.  Abraham walked down but apparently doesn't know about the cold water therapy.  Which may not actually work but does take away the booze hot red burning that sometimes happens the next day.  The we made it back to the house dripping wet. 

Mario makes the best pinto!  When he comes to stay he cooks for us and it's always REALLY good.  Sadly this morning the meat in the pinto (pinto is rice and beans from the day before fried up with veggies and meat) was fresh cow balls.  Of course being the token Gringa of the house and the only one visibly freaked out by the mornings situation, I was served breaky (back in bed) first.  The pinto was delicious but I only ate two bites of the balls.  The first bite to a. be polite and say that I tried it, and b.  the second bite to confirm I did not like it.  Tasted and had the texture of liver which makes me sick to think about. 

Then in typical next morning Coco form we went to the bar to have a couple beers at 11am to take off the rest of the hangover.  Hair of the dog really does work(especially when the beer is rimmed with salt and limon.  they don't have lemons here.  Limons and limes is all I have found)  , unless you continue to drink.  In this case you repeat the next morning, hence the 2 - 3 day binge. 

Ah, what a way to start my 23rd year of life!  ;)

The bull appears to be fine, though slightly embarrassed. 


Kiss - Rock and Roll All Nite

You show us everything you've got
You keep on dancin' and the room gets hot
You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy
You say you wanna go for a spin
The party's just begun, we'll let you in
You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy
You keep on shoutin', you keep on shoutin'

(Chorus)
I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day
I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day
I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day
I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day

You keep on saying you'll be mine for a while
You're lookin' fancy and I like your style
You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy
You show us everything you've got
Baby, baby that's quite a lot
And you drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy
You keep on shoutin', you keep on shoutin'

Friday on the Farm

Today I:
did laundry
cleaned and made beans(the beans we have come straight from the field so you have to pick out the bad ones and the rocks and sticks before cooking)
made left over pasta fritata for breaky
sat in the sun for a few mins
fed pigs, cows and birds
thought
talked
laughed