Remember that episode of Sesame Street where they show a trip to the crayon factory? That was always one of Shannon’s and my favorites. On our final visit to Costa Rica (back on the Caribbean side again), we toured a pineapple plantation and put together our own clip to show how pineapples are processed and packed up to be shipped around the world.
There are four grades of pineapple ripeness and shape that determine what happens to any given pineapple on the farm. Grade 1 fruits get shipped to the U.S., Canada, and Europe. Grade 2 are too ripe to be shipped and are sold in the local markets. Grade 3 are sliced and dried, and grade 4 are sent straight to the juicer. In addition to an interesting trip through the production facilities, we sampled more than our fair share of this fruit which symbolizes welcome and hospitality. We had fresh grade 2 pineapple, fresh grade 3 pineapple, grade 3 pineapple that was warm from having been in the drying ovens for about 4-6 hours (that was our favorite), and fully dried grade 3 pineapple. Our stomachs and taste buds were about to burst with all the fruity goodness we consumed. As you’ll see from the video, we also walked around the factory. We felt like we were in everyone’s way, but the workers were so kind and smiling and they just worked around us with speedy dexterity. Ticos seem to be a very friendly and happy bunch of people. We learned so much, but the main lesson we’ll take with us is to warm the grade 1 pineapple we buy at our Indy grocery store in the oven prior to eating it from now on. If you try the same at home, let us know what you think!
A trip like this inevitably sets off life changes in a person. It’s too early to tell what the full extent of those changes will be and whether they will be major course-alterers or just subtle shifts. Even so, already I sense that we are not the same people on the way back that we were on the way out — and we’ve still got more than a week left! A more subtle shift that has happened during our time in Central America is the growing desire we both have to continue to discover new cultures around the world. A major change to which we are both committed to pursuing when we arrive back home is really learning to speak, read, and write Spanish. One of the best parts of this trip has been talking and listening to so many interesting and different folks living in all the ports we’ve visited, and that interaction could have been so much deeper if we could have spoken the local language.
Our recent trip to León, Nicaragua proved that even a little Español can go a long way. We had a really fun time interacting with a couple of local ceramics artisans who were selling their wares on the town square. Our new friend Lisseth could speak a little English, and when we combined that with my stumbling recollection of a few Spanish terms here and there, we were able to make pretty good chit chat…slow and awkward though it was. Of course, Lisseth and Lazarro wanted us to buy some of their goods, and of course we did; it was beautiful stuff. But long after the transaction was over and done they stood there with us, smiling and struggling to understand and to be understood. The warm affection of these people and the excitement of bridging the communication gap made a lasting impression on us. Not only do we want to return to Nicaragua again–we want to make sure that next time we’re armed with decent linguistic abilities!
This man came up to Shannon and just kept talking and talking. We didn't understand what he was saying, but then he started pointing at the camera. Lisseth came over to help translate for him, and we found out that he just wanted to take a picture with a pretty lady. ¡Qué Bonita!
From left to right, new amigos: Lisseth, Samuel, Lazarro, Shannon
Managua, Nicaragua, what a wonderful spot
There’s coffee and bananas and a temperature hot
So take a trip and on a ship go sailing away
Across the agua to Managua, Nicaragua, olé
We visited Corinto and León rather than Managua, but our tour guide Henry did perform a nice rendition of this little ditty as our bus hummed along the Pan-American Highway through the countryside on our way to the ruins of Old León. Nicaragua is a really cool place to visit because the tourism industry is just in its infancy. Visitors get a real taste of Central American life, and our guides regaled us with raw and honest stories about what it was like to grow up in a socialist society in the 1980s. As much fun as all of our ports of call have been, it was refreshing to not be held at bay behind a wall of what our new friend Ricardo refers to as “tourism branding” such as Jamaica’s “No problem, mon” and Costa Rica’s “Pura Vida.” For example, Henry told us about how his mother got interrogated by the police when he was a child because she was having her children learn English, “the language of The Enemy.” Also, he told us how the president of Nicaragua (Daniel Ortega–yes, he is also the current president) was convinced that the U.S. was planning a sudden invasion in 1985 and filled the streets of León with tanks as a preventative measure. We got a good picture of how scary this might have been for Henry, who was only 11 at the time. Henry’s elementary school had 70 students and 40 chairs. If you didn’t get to school early, you’d be standing all day in a scorching hot (only a little over 500 statute miles from the equator) school building. Since he lived quite a long distance from the school and was unlikely to ever arrive early to get a seat, his dad got hold of some wood and carved him a chair which he lugged back and forth every day on the hot and dusty dirt roads to the school house.
There is no doubt that most of Nicaragua is still heartbreakingly poor, but even more than any of the other countries we’ve visited, we found that a strong sense of optimism, pride, and friendliness toward visitors pervades every interaction with the local people. You get a sense from the Nicas (affectionate term they use to describe themselves) that they are on the up. Look out, folks! Nicaragua may be a late starter among its developing Central American neighbors, but it’s learning fast and will be booming quickly.
On our last day in the area around Puntarenas, Costa Rica, we hired a private taxi to drive us to Villa Lapas in the forests of the Carara Biological Reserve. We enjoyed a private ecological walking tour across five hanging bridges nestled right in the rainforest. It was an exciting day of beautiful vistas and exotic animal sightings.
On the way to the park, we stopped at a bridge and looked down into the Río Tárcoles to see tons of enormous crocs swimming, fighting, and sunbathing.
This little katamundi was hanging out on one of the bridges when we arrived. He checked us out, we checked him out, and then he took off.
We weren't actually quick enough to get a good zoomed in picture of the absolutely beautiful scarlet macaws we saw flying around the treetops, but this shot from cityparrots.org is a great visual of what we saw.
This poison dart frog is a mother--on her back you can see the three tadpoles she is transporting to the top of a very large tree. Once she is high enough, she'll deposit them each in separate bromilliades that are holding enough water for the tadpoles to survive and sprout legs of their own. Our guide, Andrei, was so excited to see a mother carrying her tadpoles that he made us promise to e-mail him this picture. It's a little blurry due to lower light conditions under the canopy and the inability to use a flash because it hurts the eyes of these fragile little creatures.
These cute little bats are so small and lightweight that a big palm leaf is all the shelter they need.
This little rufous-tailed jacamar was another treat that got our guide, Andrei, really pumped. There are two species of jacamar found in this part of Costa Rica, and the rufous-tailed is by far the most rare...lucky us! Andrei was jumping up and down after this guy flew away.
On Shannon’s b-day I got separated from her and the previously mentioned Rolando for a couple hours while I rode on the other bus from our ship performing my duties as a tour group leader. Coincidentally, my guide was also named Rolando. He was very happy and had some great insights to share:
“We have 2 ports, this one for freighters and cargo ships and another one for cruise ships. I have no idea why you were sent to this one, but I’m happy about it! Ha ha ha!”
“Happy with the air conditioning? It’s very cold, so just let me know if it’s problem, and I’ll open the window to warm it up. Ha ha ha! I’m just kidding.”
“Please tell me i’ you have questions because I have to tell you…sometimes I have no idea what I need to talk to you about. Ha ha!”
All these people when they go picking the coffee, they just go down and attach the rope to the tree and tie around them. Ha ha, yeah, that’s the way they pick the coffee. ha ha ha.”
“Now we’re going to whzzzzzzirrrsssshhhh up into the mountains. Whzzzzzsssh! That’s what we’re going to do.”
“Esteban says to say ‘hi’ to all of you because he cannot stand up and say it himself right at this time. He’s a little busy with something else. Ha ha ha ha.” [I wonder what Esteban -- the bus driver -- was busy doing.]
Back in elementary school when I learned that Costa Rica means “rich coast” en Español, I never dreamed I’d spend my 31st birthday there. Sam and I shared May 21st with our favorite tour guide in the whole world, Rolando, with whom we’ve been lucky enough to enjoy two full tours and several chance meetings in the between times.
We like Rolando because he makes the people on our tours happy and because he really knows his stuff. Between catching glimpses of the beautiful Poás Volcano nestled quietly in the midst of a cloud forest and visiting picturesque Sarchi with its colorful ox carts, Rolando shared with us why he is proud to be a Tico (an affectionate term Central Americans use to describe Costa Ricans).
Educationally speaking, Costa Rica is the crown jewel of Central America. Young people are required by law to attend school through grade 12, and they have four Costa Rican universities from which to choose if they would like to pursue higher education. Tour guides must attend four years of university, which is not a requirement for any other country we visit on our voyage.
1/3 of the country is national park. Inside those national parks are hundreds and thousands of species of plants and animals. Costa Rica has .03% of the world’s land mass, but it contains 8% of the world’s species…that’s some serious biodiversity!
Costa Rica does not have an army. Instead, they put lots of government money into education and can be proud of their 95% literacy rate.
Rolando insists that Costa Rica does have an airforce, however: turkey vultures.
What Ticos lack in military strategy they make up for in ecological strategy. Costa Rica’s Green Revolution began in the 1950′s, and it’s the number one reason that the country’s lush flora and diverse fauna remain protected today.
The average life expectancy for a Costa Rican is a whopping 82 years old, even higher than that of the good ol’ Estados Unidos.
Thanks for all the great tours, Rolando. Here’s hoping we can catch up with you one more time in Puerto Limón on the way home! Pura Vida, mi amigo.
From left to right: Evans (the bus driver), Sam, Rolando, Shannon
In Nicaragua we visited the Betania Foundation where a set of primary, secondary and vocational schools as well as a hospital clinic and gardens were built in the 1990s in order to break the cycle of poverty for the many families of Chinandega and its surrounding communities. The kids were working diligently learning skills and trades such as sewing, mechanics, and carpentry. They all seemed excited by our visit and loved slapping high fives and giving fist pounds whenever they were allowed to take a break from their studies to interact with us. Our guide to the grounds was a thirteen-year-old tourism student named Daniela, and she was sharp as a tack — not to mention the fact that she was just about the cutest thing we’d ever seen.
As luck would have it, our visit coincided with the school’s band practice. They invited us in and played three songs for us. They were phenomenally talented and even had choreographed movements to go along with the songs they played for us. I thought our cheeks would burst open from the size of the grins on our faces as we danced with them, tapped our feet, clapped our hands, and thoroughly enjoyed some of the best music we’ve heard on the entire voyage. Everyone in the group agreed that this was one of the most heartwarming experiences we’ve had on the trip so far. Some of the kids were so tiny that it was a wonder they could hold their instruments at all–one little guy’s alto sax was about 3/4 of the size of him, and he played it like he was six feet tall.
The tiny mic on our video camera doesn’t do justice to the fat sound of their horn section, but you can still get an idea of how much fun we were having.
We rounded out the day with a fun and charming caponera (tricicleta) ride through the streets of Corinto to a beautiful beachside seafood restaurant.
Today, we had the exquisite pleasure of listening to a lecture about the production of fine Scotch. Well, more like Shannon played barmaid and served a million little communion cups of whisky to 25 eager participants while I sat with friends soaking up knowledge into my brain and alcohol into my blood stream. Like all great teachers, our voyage’s famous resident Scotsman Iain Campbell followed his presentation up with a hands-on “practical application” session during which we sampled 7 different kinds of Scotch. Until this point, my only experience with Scotch was a Rusty Nail that I had at a great little seedy bar in Alexandria, Indiana, (a.k.a. “Alec” to native Hoosiers) with my buddy, Adam. Let me tell you, a rusty nail is every bit as bad as it sounds (and yes, it’s totally worth experiencing).
Now, however, I fancy myself a real whisky expert (at least if I’m around friends who are none the wiser). I will be a veritable fount of Scottish whisky facts and lore at the next social gathering I attend. For example, did you know that both “whiskey” and “whisky” are correct spellings, but it is only legal to drop the “e” on the label if the spirit was produced in Scotland? Similarly, a whisky can only legally be labeled “Scotch” if it was produced in Scotland…anywhere else and it’s just plain whiskey. Below are a few more facts to amaze your friends. Iain swears that just tossing around a few of these around the next time you’re at the pub is a surefire way to earn yourself many a free round of the good drink.
Malt spirit means the liquor was derived exclusively from malted (germinated) barley
Grain spirit is derived from about 40% malted barley and 60% some other cheaper starchy cereal like maize, rice, etc.
Single whisky means the entire batch came from one single distillery whereas blended whisky is a mix of between 10 and 50 or more spirits from multiple distilleries and a whole bunch of cheap grain spirit.
Single single whisky means what’s in the bottle came entirely from one single barrel in one single distillery — whee, we’re getting pricey, now!
That should be enough to get you going. I’ll show’n'tell you more of what I learned about the differences between highland, lowland, and island Scotch…if you’ll buy me a drink sometime.
Residing in the hills of Panama are a beautiful native population known today as the Emberá Indians. They live a simple community-focused life in much the same manner as their ancestors going back before Columbus landed in the Americas. We were lucky enough to get to visit one of their villages. They served us a delicious meal of freshly caught tilapia, fried plantains, and fruit in lovely bowls made out of leaves. The meal was followed by a fascinating Q&A session with their current chief via a translator. We had a chance to explore their village, watch some traditional dances, and purchase handmade arts and crafts.
We were awed by the beauty and simplicity of their lifestyle. The chief — who seemed to hesitate a little bit at the word “chief” and indicated that “community leader” was probably a closer translation — told us that the life expectancy of his tribe is quite long. His grandfather, who founded the particular settlement where they currently reside, lived to be 82. It is not uncommon for Emberá individuals to live close to 100 years. The oldest resident of the village during our visit was a 95 year old woman, which is pretty impressive when you consider that the total population of the community is only 59.
There are six settlements close to the area we visited, and each has a community leader from which an overall head chief is chosen every 5 years. The process of electing a new leader is public and democratic. Every one who wishes to be considered stands side-by-side in a line. The rest of the community–including women and children over the age of 12–then proceeds to line up single file behind the person they choose. The longest line determines the new leader. When our new friend and fellow passenger Santiago asked if it was possible to serve as head chief for more than one term, our host laughed and responded that it was possible but has never happened so far. It’s pretty much a volunteer position with lots of work and no material compensation. The one thing that sets the chief apart is a blue and white beaded necklace that is passed down to each successor (you can see it in the photo below with Shannon in the middle). The rewards of the job are intangible, and everyone who has served in that position has been very tired by the end of his term and declines to “run” again. Kind of makes you wish we could change the U.S. Presidency to be similar, doesn’t it?
The only way to the Emberá village is in dugout canoes on Lake Alajuela and the Chagres River.
A big smiling crocodile on the banks of the Chagres River discouraged us from joining the Emberá in after-lunch swimming.
The Emberá go barefoot. The men typically wear colorful loin cloths, but on the day of our visit they donned beads around their waists and across their chests. The women wear patterned skirts and usually go topless, but for tourist visits they wear tops made of cloth and beads. Their clothing is beautiful!
The Emberá women are exceptionally skilled at dyeing and weaving coconut fronds into amazing baskets, masks, and other works of art.
At 5’8″, Shannon feels unusually tall standing with the chief (left) and his second-in-command (right).
We loved the posturing of these young boys. I guess it’s nice to know that much like boys from our culture, even earth-friendly, peaceful Emberá boys like to look as tough as possible.
Here’s a quick shot of us going through the last set of locks in the Panama Canal today. If you zoom in you can see the black pixelated blob that represents the baseball cap I was wearing while hanging out on the observation deck. Poor Shannon was working in the library during this set of locks, so we can’t see her pixelated blob.
