Jeepers Creepers

Many might expect immediate travel dangers of sexual harassment and kidnapping to come from gang-bangin’ locals involved in the trafficking of drugs and/or sex.

Well, beyond a few Tico’s yelling horribly pronounced phrases of: “Hey baby” “Me love you long time” “You’re beautiful!” I’ve had no such problems with the locals. Actually, the closest I’ve come to any concerns of sexual harassment and possible half-assed attempts at kidnapping derived from fellow foreigners.

Manuel Antonio’s Love-Seeking Lebanese:

I was growing tired of the beach scene and decided I wanted to go for a hike. The national park was going to close soon; so, limited to non-governmentally protected regions, Kelly, Jeremy and I headed toward the free-entrance woods that lay about one mile from the beach.

I was walking slightly ahead of Jeremy and Kelly along the water (you had to walk the beach to reach the rainforest), when Afif, a 60-year-old Lebanese retiree, stopped me for some seemingly small-talk conversation.

“No shoes for you either, hm?” the shirtless, beer bellied old man bellowed with a smile on his face.

“Nope, you don’t need ‘em here,” I said, while trying to hustle down the beach to beat the rain.

He was relentless, though, and kept at it.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Pennsylvania,” I replied shortly, still shuffling.

“Ah, American girl,” he said, with a smile.

By this point, Jeremy, my self-proclaimed mother for the trip, was already sprinting up to me ready to punt this old man across the beach if he was causing any problems.

The man continued to introduce himself as Afif and told me about how he used to run a company that sold ladies’ handbags. He was apparently on his way to becoming a world traveler and was in Costa Rica for vacation.

Kelly, Jeremy and I conversed with him for a bit more about his past work and travel stories. He seemed to have many and they were all fairly interesting.

He described the beauty of Lebanon and bragged about how great the food is. When I told him I worked at a restaurant that served that kind of food (Megdraa, Falafel, Zatar, Tabouli being my personal favorites), he took my hand and, with glee, exclaimed, “Let’s go! You all must come with me.”

I laughed along thinking he was kidding. When he kept tugging, I asked where he wanted to go. He then offered to take us all out for some Lebanese food at a restaurant in front of his hotel-, which was right off the beach. We were all slightly uneasy, and Jeremy was silently, but largely, gesturing a big NO behind Afif.

Kelly and I asked for a minute with Jeremy and we told him we’d go to the restaurant with him since it was right off the beach, we love free food and it had already begun raining.

However, once we started walking he held my hand. I thought that was weird. But then sort of naively slapped myself for being so culturally insensitive; after all, that could be perfectly acceptable in Lebanon. But, when Afif continually offered for us to enjoy the food in his room instead and began stroking my hand, Kelly and I gave each other the silent nod. We were breaking away as soon as possible.

We told him we’d only go to the restaurant. After much arguing, he agreed. We reached the restaurant; he said he was going to his room to grab some Zatar.

He told us to sit down and wait.

We said okay.

He went to his room.

We sprinted down the beach as soon as he was out of sight.

Maybe Afif was being sincere and wasn’t going to slip rohypnol into our plates of Zatar. However, after my receiving strange vibes, uncomfortable offers and awkward hand massages, Kelly and I weren’t too eager to stick around to find out.

WILL ADD THE STORY OF THE MONTEZUMA CREEPER LATER WHEN THE INTERNET IS COOPERATING.

Best Birthday Weekend

Many birthdays are decorated with shiny wrapping papers, sentimental cards and chocolate cakes. Here, in Costa Rica, I found my 20th birthday weekend adorned with shiny cuts and bruises, detrimental hikes and full-body mud cakes.

GETTING THERE
7/8-7/9:
Making the 6 a.m. bus for Montezuma was, in itself, a full-fledged miracle. Thursday night entailed hours upon hours of dancing at Bar Nena amongst tons of Ticos and at least 20 other volunteers from Maximo Nivel. Once two a.m. hit, we woozily decided our chances of catching the 6 a.m. bus, unlike a fine wine, would not increase with time. So we left.

I’d prepared by setting my morning alarm before we even left for the club. When I got home I decided that I was a fantastic last minute packer and would, therefore, wait until 4 a.m. to begin that process.

Then 5:24 a.m. rolled around. I awoke to Carmen shaking me while pointing to the clock. I accidentally set the alarm for 4 p.m.– typical. Not only should we have been awake by this time, but we also should have been in a taxi en route to San Jose.


By 5:31 I had somehow gotten out of bed, packed everything I needed (except for a towel- which I later found out the hard way) and made it into the taxi. We were then magically and nauseatingly whisked to the San Jose bus station by 5:47 -- just in time to take our seats as the bus pulled away at 6 a.m. That taxi driver got a nice tip.


ARRIVAL in MONTEZUMA

7/9:
We hadn’t preplanned our living arrangements- we just planned on beachfront shopping for a cheap hostel. In search of such a place, we ended up making friends with a girl from Germany, Svenja, who accompanied us to the Moctezuma Hotel. We got a better price for having three people. (Side note: $13/night beachfront room with the ocean breeze sifting in through the window.)

THE LOST GIRLS
7/9:
My pre-planned goal and gift to myself was to take as many extra-spontaneous hikes through the rainforest as possible. This year, I got just what I wanted and much, much more.

Figuring we had until nightfall for the rest of our friends to arrive, I decided it was the perfect time to start showering myself with mud-caked gifts. Kelly and I set off to a waterfall supposedly a short distance away. We figured we’d be gone for two hours at most.

Six hours later we were…. Misplaced.

From the beginning we followed a dirt road between the ocean and the rainforest. Still following a dirt road 20 minutes into the hike, boredom ensued. While the path provided a gorgeous view, it certainly didn’t yield any sense of spontaneity. Deeming it appropriate to trash the map and take the first available turn into the rainforest, I found myself limbo-ing underneath a barbed wire fence onto a questionable path (which was about the width of my foot).

After more than a half hour, we reached the top of the steep mountain path. Peering over the edge, we discovered the breathtaking aerial view of the ocean from the cliff-side of the mountain. From there, we took a right on a narrow path that provided no sign of recent travel. We reasoned that it would certainly lead us back on a more exciting path.

A few hours later I had 20 more bug bites (of course I left the repellant at home), a puncture wound from a spiked tree that was out for blood, a six-pack and a big smile on my face. Sure it wasn’t mapped out--- but that’s why I loved it, that WAS the fun.


**One of the many killer trees. They're out for blood.**

By the time nightfall hit, we had:
-Followed the sound of running water to the river (where we ate the last of our apples, filled up on water and, in hope of finding the source of some distant music we heard, climbed up a moist mass of rocks where a waterfall used to run-- since following the river to the ocean could have taken til morning).

-Annihilated a barbed wire fence on a large, assumedly abandoned property that was also guarded by an elaborate gate (yet there was no house to be found).


**Barbed wire fence.**


**Nice gates, no homes.**

-Found another gated property, which housed a picnic-grove-like shelter. Here we found a small family all huddled on a hammock silently cradling a baby. After getting over the initial spookiness, we asked how to get to Montezuma. All we got out of them was “derecho” and “PROMENADE??? NO CAR? Ohhhhhhhhhh no.” We named them The Village People, because were degrading.

-Acquired a Rottweiler at a house straight out of a horror film (it was the only house elevated on a huge hill. It had no cars, people or signs of recent residency. It was painted all white with a lone set of red cement stairs that led up to an eerie sort of open patio which had beautiful view of the forest and sunset). We approached the house and the dog was barking loudly and growling. We decided to use the “just don’t look scared and he won’t care” routine. Then the dog charged after us… we stood still… he leaped on us and licked us *major relief sigh. * He joined us the rest of the time as our guard dog. We named him Doug, because he was a big silly oaf, like the dog from “Up”.

With Doug by our sides, the moon over our heads and village people and broken fences to our backs, Kelly and I continued down the road we found looking for more signs of life. Though we felt safer with Doug, we were still eager to find our way back.

We wandered past a few more deserted lots and empty houses under the moonlight with Doug before discovering a property absent of fences and barbed wire that housed real, live people.

There were 5 men outside. So, we hoped for the best while approaching them with our newly acquired guard mutt. We asked if they spoke English- they did. We told them our story- they stared in amazement, sizing us up and laughing. We asked if we were far- they laughed again. We were very far. We asked if we could call a taxi from their phone. Instead, they offered a ride. By coincidence, their daughters we’re headed to Montezuma.

The car ride back was long, the night was dark, the adventure was great, and we made it back before our friends even arrived. It was the best birthday hike I could hope for.

FALLING WATER, HIDDEN… DEATH??
7/10
Though the following day was not nearly as spontaneous and nerve-wracking, it was equally as fun and adventurous.

The previous day, we never made it to the waterfalls, despite our valiant efforts.

Today, we would hike with a sense of purpose. And more peanut butter sandwiches.

We followed a small path that led us across mountainsides and cliffs to our destinations.

The first waterfall (in a series of three) stood the tallest at 80 feet. We were able to swim in its pool and slip behind its forceful stream. Once we were satisfied, and almost drowned, we proceeded up the mountain to the second waterfall that was directly above the first.


**The first waterfall in the series of three.**


**The top-most waterfall.**

Though we accidently missed the path to the middle waterfall, the topmost waterfall had a view of the middle waterfall. It also had a rope swing into its pool and an easy jumping spot off of the small waterfall.

Initially, I’d planned to only swim a little bit, because I was waterfalled out.
But swimming led to rope swinging.
Rope swinging led to jumping off the smallest, topmost waterfall at about fifteen feet.
That leap led to climbing the tree that the rope swing hung from and jumping from there, probably about twenty-five feet.
That chest-thumping, Tarzan-like hurdling led to me standing at the top at the middle waterfall, shaking like a little girl, trying not to pee myself while peering over the edge to the 40 foot pool that lay below me. Heart pounding, brow sweating, friends egging I kissed my own ass goodbye and leaped, screaming the whole drop. I made it, gasping for air and cheering both for fun and for gratefulness.

CAPPING OFF THE WEEKEND:
7/10
Hopeful adventures checked off our list, we joined some Utah-ians that we’d met the night before in their excursion to a nearby concert. The concert, put on by local school children, featured orchestral performances, song and dance. The proceeds benefited the kids’ school and music program. They were adorable, but absolutely terrible. The experience was wonderful and hilarious.


**The dance part of the performance.**

The weekend was successful: good times, spontaneous adventure and great company.

Out with the old, in with the new

--THE ORPHANAGE--
Yesterday Pani (again, the orphanage I work at) lost Naomi-- sad, because well miss the girl, but amazing because she found a family! Naomi was about 2 years old.

Today, Pani added two more girls to their collection of adorable children waiting for homes. They are sisters. Luckily, there is a law in Costa Rica that makes it impossible to separate siblings in the process of an adoption; though this is great for their mental stability, it also lessens the chances of being first choice for adoptions.
Gennesis (so now we have two Gennesises!): She is the older sister (probably about 5 years old); today she seemed very stable for it being her first day. All the other girls were very friendly with her and she fit right in.
Rebecca (and now we have two Rebecca’s also!): She is the younger sister. She is really sweet and she lets things bounce off of her, such as insults and injuries. She has trouble seeing as her eyes each point to the outside of her face. She was also taken in very quickly by the other girls.

--NEW VISIT--
Today, Kelly and I checked out another “children at risk project¨, Carpio. Apparently the children, who all live in a very bad neighborhood under harsh conditions, meet daily at the church, Carpio. However, today we went with them on a fieldtrip to a park in San Jose. There was a surplus of 20 kids.

Some of them were physically disabled in various ways. All of them were very friendly. The boys were all very active and ready to play anything you proposed and the girls were quick to take to us. They did both my and Kelly{s hair and said I looked like a Barbie-- I could get used to this place :P

I hope to go there every Wednesday.

In depth

Somewhere amidst morning runs and hikes in San Pedro and San Jose, mid-day adventures at the orphanage and nightly meetings with friends, time has taken the superhighway into the middle of our second week. At the end of this week, my trip will be halfway through.

Life at home:
It is getting easier to communicate with Carmen, though it is mostly through adjustment to the way she talks and the way we each talk with our hands. I’m getting used to wearing my shoes constantly around the house, not throwing toilet paper in the toilet and letting her get the dishes (so as to not insult Carmen).

Life on the town:
San Pedro is filled with cafes, shops, clubs and bars. It’s very similar to any other city you would imagine. However, on each side of every road lies a trench. At first glance it looks very, very strange and unnecessary. But when the monsoon-like rains come, it makes much more sense.


Life at the orphanage:
Meet the Kids:
--Girls--

Allehandra: the oldest girl. She takes care of everyone and is very, very sweet.

Elena: very carefree. She’s always running around smiling and having fun, even if someone else is feeling blue.

Gennesis: she is partially paralyzed from the waist down. I’m not sure exactly what the cause/disease is, but she handles it very well. She, also, always has a smile on her face and EVERYONE at the orphanage is very sweet to her and helps her walk (we put a blanket around her front and under her armpits to help support her.)

Luz Maria: the second oldest. She is very bold and very wise for her age. She is definitely the mother figure at the orphanage. She is still in contact with her mother.

Naomi: the sassy cutie-pie. She can be the biggest sweetheart and yet make you feel terrible in a split second. Her smile is worth a billion dollars and her tantrums are worth a billion more. She’s absolutely adorable. **UPDATE: TODAY, JULY 7, NAOMI FOUND A FAMILY. SHE WILL NO LONGER BE WITH THE ORPHANAGE**

Rebecca: I don’t see her around much, but she likes to dance and have fun.

Rut: the “noob.” Rut just arrived at the orphanage Friday, June 25. She was removed from her home for unknown reasons. She’s very moody and can be a brat--- all of this is expected though because she is still adjusting to her new conditions. Her father is allowed to visit her sometimes during the week, he seems very stable and very nice- the second he leaves, she’s in tears. One day when I left she was crying, the Tia (one of the orphanage care-takers) said she thinks of me as her mom.

Stephanie: people pleaser. She hates to see anyone at the orphanage sad and will hop to attention the second she sees tears. She is too adorable.

--Boys--
Esteban: the ladies man. He can put a smile on anyone’s face. He doesn’t let anyone at the orphanage feel left out, sad or lonely (including me!!). For example, though Rut can be a brat—he’ll offer to play/share with her anyway.

Jose: the oldest boy, he’s 11. At first I thought of him as the class clown with tons of hidden emotions and frustration because he thrived off of attention from bad behavior. Though that’s still true, he definitely has some issues with sexual frustration. For the first week he started calling me “conejo” (rabbit/bunny). I didn’t understand why for a while. Then he started calling me, and Kelly as well, his “playboy bunnies” insinuating that we “play with boys.” He has become much nicer though---we just need to eliminate the “boo conejo playboy bunny” talk.

Dakell: another one of the oldest. He is very friendly, mature and intelligent! He can speak Spanish, English and French! Sadly, he often serves as our translator.

Arenai: little boy. Adorable. Very, very playful. Always has a smile on his face and is always a klutz!!

Diedrick: the youngest baby. He is blind and constantly cries unless he is being held. I don’t know much else about his story.

Havier: he is the noobie of the boys. He just got here Monday, July 5. At first he was moody and temperamental, but he seems to have adjusted in only one day’s time.

Natan: another baby. I think he is the happiest child at the orphanage. Today was the first time I saw him cry and it was only a minute before his dimpled giggles appeared again.

4 Days in

So, Im here and alive and well. Thats a good start.

Living situation--
Host Family:
The house is in San Pedro in the Cedros area.
My host moms name is Carmen and she is a doll.
Other house occupants: Kelly, California Brian (who serves as the translator between Carmen for Kelly and I), Carmen´s son and daughter in law and Chici (Carmens mini dog)

The orphanage--
It{s called Pani
It is pretty well off... Someone donated their house for them a few years ago. So they have one large room for the girls, one for the boys, a dining room, kitchen, living room, pool, side shed, and a garage (which they use for a play area). I was very, very surprised with its condition.

The kids--
There are about sixteen, they{re not all there simultaneously so I{m still learning some of their names.
Ill write more details about them later. They{re all very sweet though, but they seem to benefit from our company since they dont get much attention or playtime otherwise.
***I was told photography was not allowed. I{m going to try to get around that. Ill add photos when I can.*****

What my days look like:
7 am: Wake up and run (Yes, Jim Irvin, I am keeping up with the workouts... and I scale mountains daily... so I might be more than useless on hills this season)
8-10 am: Breakfast with Carmen, Brian, Kelly and I; clean-up; shower
11/12-1:30: Start walking to Maximo Nivel (again, our volunteer organization) it{s about a 30 minute walk; read; study
1:30-5: Walk to the orphanage, about a 20 minute walk, work there with the kids. Right now we{re more mentoring and providing company rather than teaching english
From there we walk back home, which takes almost an hour ebcause its all up hill... or up mountain rather... Eat dinner with Carmen, and pass out from exhaustion




Fun Facts learned
-Dont ever flush toilet paper down the toilet, they will clog.
-There are no addresses or street signs so having a five second memory does not serve me well.
-Walking around the house without shoes is offensive.
-Punctuation on these keyboards/computers is confusing.
-My organization failed to tell me that I would be dealing with a different organization when I got here, Maximo Nivel --- not Global Crossroad.
-Saying Cuantos Colones sounds really stupid... the correct way to say it is Cuanto Cuesto (my spelling may be wrong).
-In order to make the @ symbol on Costa Rican computers you must press Alt, then 6, then 4--- but only use the numbers on the side keypad.
-Internet cafes are abusive.
-The amount of Spanish I know is useless. As Kelly put it, Chici, the timid little dog in our house thats the size of a foot, understands and speaks more Spanish than we do.
-Here, they think vegetarians eat chicken. They don{t understand when you try to tell them otherwise.

New York Citay

I leave for New York in the morning. I'll stay in Callicoon tomorrow night and then drive to the city the next morning and stay there all day and night. Come Sunday morning, I'll be en route!!!!

ALSO... TODAY I REACHED MY GOAL--- SO THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTED ME AND CONTRIBUTED!!!

Every little bit did count and I'll do my best to keep blogs and photos updated!!!

Less than one month to go!

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To those who have donated, pushing me closer to my goal and allowing my participation in this amazing experience--- THANK YOU! I really couldn't do this without you and I appreciate your donations towards my efforts and the cause of mentoring and educating underprivileged children in Costa Rica! THANK YOU, AGAIN!

>The Beaton Family

>Julie Buczek

>Terri Cross

>Kal Darres and diners of Petra Restaurant

>The Arizona Dill Family

>Steve and Linda Dill

>The Dunn Family

>Ken Fibbe

>Julia Franzen

>Dan Haritan

>Jim Irvin

>The Mattis Family

>Tom McGraw

>Eric Probola

>Alison Richard & Family

>Shannon Roberts

>Laura & Bob Suscheck

>Attendees of the "Kelly and Lindsay are going to volunteer in Costa Rica" Bash

>Diners of Petra Restaurant

OPPORTUNITY MOVING ME FORWARD AND SETTING ME "BACK"
Fortunately, and yet unfortunately, I received an internship with the Erie Times-News for this summer!

FORTUNATELY: I was so excited when I was accepted as the Online News Intern position for the summer, as I had applied later than most. It's a great opportunity to gain clips and experience with different areas of journalism (online journalism, reporting, writing, photography, videography).

UNFORTUNATELY: The position is unpaid, because, as many know, journalism is taking a hard hit right now.

So-- where I had planned to work PAID 14-hour days to help reach my goal, I am now working 12-hour "half-paid" days.

Monday-Friday I work 6 unpaid hours at the Erie Times, WHILE GAINING VALUABLE EXPERIENCE (I want to stress this because I am grateful and recognize that my experience with the Erie Times-News will pay off in valuable knowledge and experience.)

And Monday-Saturday, I waitress as many days as the schedule allows for around 6-8 paid hours.

SO WHAT DOES THIS MEAN,

It means that now, even more than before, I need your help and support to reach my goal before taking flight to Costa Rica. So, please, any and every amount makes a difference!

Thank you, and I'll be keeping you posted!