Con Lluvia y Historia

Back at Hostel Bekuo. All the surfers are watching TV and talking football. I'm feeling a bit spent, but pretty happy with mi adventura del dia.

So upon getting to the hostel I posted on este blog, checked email, poured over my guide of Costa Rica to try to figure out what to do with myself. Once figuring that out, I was about to step outside when the thunder roared and the tropical clouds let loose. So while waiting for the rain to let up I played pool with an Aussie named Mick... I beat him one game, he beat me the next.

Suddenly, the rain let up and it was sunny and remarkably hot [a weather phenomenon I should probably get used to]. I hopped on a bus and headed for downtown San Jose. It's a super congested, super crowded, probably pretty polluted, super fast moving city, but I found it strangely charming. All the people scurrying across the street in hopes of avoiding the maniac cab drivers [these people will run you over, no broma], the smell of greasy meat, and the distant sound of tropical birds chirping like nuts, made me feel slightly excited.

If you walk up the hill from Avenida Central you come across a string of beautiful civic parts overlooking the city with sweeping views of the green, storm cloud capped, mountains around. Their bursting with verdant tropical vegitation in the midst of Spanish colonial style footbridges, fountains, and bronze statues of the heroes of liberation. I came across a bust of Bernardo O'Higgins, chief liberator of Chile, and I got very excited.

After a terrible hambuguesa especial at a cheap eatery called a soda, they're all over downtown San Jose, headed up to the Museo National de Costa Rica. It's a history museum located in this old colonial building that looks like a stone fortress from the outside, and has this amazing courtyard on the inside. Inside it's split between pre colombian history and post colonial history, with a small but impressive collection of gold artifacts from indigenous. One cool thing: indigenous groups of Costa Rica crafted these huge stone spheres to broadcast their power to neighboring groups. I the middle of my visit to the museum, it began to down pour harder than it had all day. I sat in the arcade around the museum's incredibly lush courtyard and watched it come down, a peaceful moment in the middle of a hectic, and busy day of airplanes, buses, and urban congestion.

Phew, this traveler can spew a lot. I can't promise this level of detail from every entry, but it's been a long day and the internet provides a nice, comforting glow. I might party with Australians tonight, but I'm more likely to curl up with my book about Pinochet and go to bed early. Tomorrow, Irazu Volcano might enjoy my company.

from Bekuo Hostel, Los Yoses, San Jose, Costa Rica

Bienvenidos a Costa Rica...

So far so good. I´m here, typing from the computer cluster at Bekuo Hostel in Los Yoses (a neighborhood in the South East of San Jose). First impressions of Costa Rica: hot, mountains, crazy street traffic. Heading out to explore the city soon. More then.
All the best,
DJH

Una Mapa!

Here's a map of South America! Blogging es muy divertido!

It's Monday in Westhampton, MA

This is my first blog entry and I have basically nothing to say. Sorry.

I leave for Costa Rica on Saturday and I'm feeling relatively prepared. I have got almost all my gear lined up and still wondering whether or not it's completely naive to think I can live out of a pack back for three months. It is. But I will, because I basically haven't given myself much of a choice.

I watched some Univision this morning to work on my Spanish. There was a story about single mothers struggling in the wake of Peru's earthquake. Or at least, I think that's what it was about. Either way it made me feel sad and strange to be an American tourist heading to country that just suffered a crippling natural disaster, in which 54 percent of the population live below the poverty line. As the title of this blog suggest ("I'm afraid of earthquakes in Peru" for those of you who don't habla espanol) I'm of course a little nervous, but it's mixed in with vague feelings of guilt and confusion. I guess that just what it means to be an American in the wide world: vague feelings of guilt. Sad and strange.

I should probably get back to "preparing" for real. But mostly that just means flipping through my Rough Guide to Peru and watching episodes of "Arrested Development." I'm probably going to die.

All the best,
(Westhampton, MA)