I’ve been in Quito all about 3 hours and have already made some new amigos. But these aren’t other travelers…oh now, I’m making friends with the locals and some very important ones at that—a priest and two policia!

I landed in Ecuador’s capitol city, Quito, this afternoon. Things are already starting to feel more “Andean” here and less tropical than Costa Rica. For one thing, Quito sits high in an Andean valley at about 9400 feet above sea level. Also the old town part of the city is a Unesco World Cultural Heritage Site and is chock full of original Spanish colonial architecture.

Because I’m booked on a Galapagos Islands boat tour through a local travel agency, Galla Terra,  I had the luxury of being picked up at the small airport by a driver with my name on a placard. I literally disembarked the plane, went through customs, and retrieved my pack in less than fifteen minutes. Andrea, the cute brunette Ecuadorian travel agent, brought me to my quaint, old world hotel in the heart of Old Quito. I liked it here already. The old town felt very European with pastel stucco buildings and narrow cobblestone streets. I checked into my hotel which is housed in a centuries old mansion with a charming courtyard complete with fountain in the middle. I dropped my bags and headed out to explore the city.

The old town feels like ‘any city Europe.’ There are bustling historic plazas rimmed with churches and museums. I walked up the steps to La Merced, a ‘newer’ church in the city, built in 1742. But it appeared that the church was closed for a special event. I poked my head in and asked if it was ‘abierto?’ An older man in a white robe smiled at me, opened the door and beckoned me inside. Hmmm. It’s got to be safe—it’s a church, right?

He only spoke Spanish, but we spent the next 45 minutes chatting. Apparently, there was some ‘industry’ party happening inside the church’s beautiful courtyard. My new Catholic friend showed me around the whole place. We passed workers preparing the tables and chairs for the party, stacking the champagne flutes, and readying the stage for some live music. My friend was jolly and sweet and had an infectious laugh that rasped out of his throat every few minutes. He introduced me to folks as we passed as if we were old friends. Wow. I felt so special…like I was producing again and getting some kind of behind the scenes tour. I had no idea why he was showing me around, but it was fun. I eventually discovered he just thought I was ‘muy bonita’ and I realized I was the only one around who looks the way I do—blue eyes and light hair. I was a novelty. Eventually, I said I must go and as I headed out he introduced me to Father Escobar who echoed my new friend’s sentiments. This was kinda fun! He walked me to the door and bid me adieu (well actually ‘adios’) as I strode across the square with a new spring in my step and confidence in my head.

I reached the Plaza de San Francisco and saw a couple of the many policia that I’d noticed all throughout the city, nearly on every corner. I spent the next half hour chatting with these guys about the city, where it’s safe, what other towns I should visit, etc. Washington and Jose were really nice guys and fun to chat with. Not only do I love meeting locals, I get to really practice my Spanish at the same time. Tomorrow off to see some boobies (Blue-Footed Boobies! Get your mind out of the gutter!) in the Galapagos Islands.

In Costa Rica there’s a saying that permeates everyday life. Pura Vida literally translates to ‘pure life.’ But here, it’s used in many ways to kind of mean ‘it’s all good.’ When someone asks:

“How are you?”
“Pura Vida.”

“How’s the weather?”
“Pura Vida.”

A pretty girl or cute muchacho is “pura vida.”

It’s an attitude. It’s a feeling. It’s all good. It’s laid back. In the States we don’t really have this attitude in everything we do.

It makes me think about how we say we want to live life to the fullest, but how hard it is to actually do when we are so preoccupied with working, making more money to buy more things, commuting, running on the treadmill, and falling into bed exhausted. How do we have time to really ‘live life’ or ‘pura vida?’

We say “stop and smell the roses” and “work to live, don’t live to work.” But it takes five seconds to say these words and then MAYBE we think about their meaning for another five seconds before our own daily thoughts, responsibilities, and to-do lists come crashing into our brain. We fill our lives with so much crap when we need to be focusing more energy on the most important things:

Personal Relationships with friends and family
Love
Happiness
Laughter

Believe me, I’m writing about this, but I’m no expert and no better than anyone else and certainly get caught up in the daily BS. And if I figure out how to do this thing called ‘life’ better I will let you know. And you do the same for me.

Pura Vida.

…and they’re all Gringos!

I’m back in San Jose for a few nights before my flight to Ecuador. So as I’ve traveled throughout the country I’ve noticed an amount of poverty that I’m not quite used to. And this country is nowhere near the poorest country I will visit. Again, it makes me painfully aware of all that we have in the states and more specifically all that I have.

I’ve also noticed nearly every house here has at least bars on the windows and in most cases, a gate, and a big metal fence usually topped with razor wire. Sadly, the more tourism has increased, the more crime has also increased.

For my last few nights, I decided to stay in Escazu, a well-to-do suburb up in the hills just outside of San Jose. I hadn’t seen any wealth and was curious as to what I’d find here. I knew I would find many Americanos because as my bus pulled into town we preceded to pass Denny’s, Tony Romas, and possibly our worst import—Hooters. Wow. Was I in Costa Rica or Atlanta?

After a morning of catching up on my sun at the pool and catching up on my writing, I took a walk around the ‘hood. I turned a corner and there I was in Gringoland. It looked like a wealthy suburb of Miami. Coral colored stucco mansions with tile roofs one after the other lined the streets. It was the first time I’d seen pretty streetlamps and manicured lawns the whole time I’d been here. I strolled up a block that dead-ended at a security booth. I ended up chatting with the security guard (in Spanish—so thankful for my lessons!) about the neighborhood. According to Señor Security, nearly everyone that lived here was American. And they all worked for Intel.

If you recall in an earlier blog, I mentioned technology was the number two industry in the country, thanks in large part to Intel. It was like a mini Stepford with all these American housewives whizzing by in their SUVs into their gated driveways and their hermetically sealed homes. Muy interesante. AND I bet they pay beau coup bucks on the monthly exterminator bills to keep the ants out.

Isn’t that fun to say? That’s what they call the transportation method I took to get to La Fortuna and Arenal Volcano. It’s actually more like Van-Boat-Van, but I really think they should call it Bus-Boat-Bus and really have some alliteration fun. The road from Monteverde to Lake Arenal was probably the worst yet—bumpy and rocky the entire way. But the scenery was gorgeous—rolling green hills dotted with cows and a few small farmhouses. And in the background the perfectly conical Arenal Volcano arose from the hills into the clouds.

We reached the lake and boarded a boat for the other side. This quick one hour ride across the calm waters provided a nice reprieve from the unpaved roads, plus it provided the most spectacular view of the Volcano itself. Arenal Volcano is the second most active volcano in the world. It has eruptions every five to ten minutes. In 1968, it erupted violently after laying dormant for hundreds of years. A village was destroyed and 80 people were killed. Nowadays, Arenal erupts just about every five to ten minutes shooting red hot lava rocks out of its crater.

Proving once again, IT IS a ‘small word,’ I met a guy named Scott on the boat who had worked as a TV Producer for WIS-TV in Columbia, South Carolina. I was a Director at this same station for three years just out of Journalism School! He worked there about six years after I did, but we knew some of the same folks. I love random encounters like that. We got to the other side of the lake and what to my wandering eyes did appear?? A double yellow line and actual pavement! We’ve reached civilization!! Land ho!

I took the last leg of my “Jeep-Boat-Jeep” excursion and was dropped outside of “Gringo Pete’s,” the hostel Marcel and friends recommended. Pete is a jolly (and I soon learned often condescending) ol’ expat from Washington State. I’ve done it—I’ve crossed over into dormitory living. I’m in a clean room with 4 bunks and my roommates are a Swiss guy, Martin, a Dutch gal, Sandra, and a cool Romanian (who speaks 5 languages and works for a bank in Geneva) just walked in. We all end up hanging out now I have instant friends for the next few days. Oh—and the rate? Three dollars a night!

My second day in Monteverde I went on the very popular Canopy Tour
through the St. Elena Forest. This is a series of steel cables, or ‘ziplines’ strung across the top of the forest. You wear a harness and with a pulley and several carabineers, you are hooked up to the line and literally zip across the tree tops. Costa Rica has become somewhat famous for these adrenaline pumping tree top ‘rides.’ The canopy tours have popped up all throughout the country. Mine consisted of about 17 different lines of varying heights and lengths. It’s not for the faint of heart or those with a fear of heights. It’s also not really a good way to ‘see’ the rainforest since you are zipping through so quickly you can enjoy the tree tops, but little chance of spotting any wildlife.

I loved it—it’s scary and exhilarating at the same time. The guides were a bunch of fun young Ticos who made it even more fun. The craziest part was doing what they call the “Tarzan Swing.” It was basically just a rope they tethered your harness to and with a “lista?” (are you ready?), they would push you off a high platform and you would free fall until the rope caught and then you’d swing into the jungle. I screamed and then kept laughing so hard, I was crying! It was a great rush and as I was whizzing through the forest with no control, like some kind of monkey, I realized this was the ultimate feeling for ‘letting go,’ like I hope to be doing all year.

At the Canopy Tour I met some cool Americans (sometimes sadly that seems to be an oxymoron). There were two couples—one from Buffalo and the other from Aspen, Colorado. We hit it off right away and it was nice to be with fun, down to earth, outgoing people who were my own age. I ended up kind of inviting myself to dinner with them (I’m usually direct, but being alone, I feel I sometimes have to make friends quicker than I normally would) that night. We went to a place called Sofia’s and I had the nicest meal I’ve had since San Jose (these were not backpackers on a backpacker budget). I ordered the chicken in a plantain crust with a mango salsa and coconut rice. It was beautifully presented and delicious

Later that night I met back up with my roommate, Marcel from Germany, who’d gone away on a sidetrip for a few days and had now returned. Super nice guy—very friendly and easy going—he made the perfect roommate, but alas, he was also leaving the next day for Nicaragua. We met up at Amigos, the local watering hole, and were joined by Daniella and Yasmine, a couple friends from Switzerland who were also staying at our hotel. Also there was my cute Tico waiter from dinner who’d actually invited me to go dancing at the local ‘discothèque.’ He had a cherub face and the sweetest brown eyes with long eyelashes, but I think he was ten years my junior. I think I’d sit this dance out. I really enjoyed my new friends—we were a mish mash of German, American, Swiss, Canadian, and Tico. Monteverde definitely was a special place and after three days in this small town I already started to recognize and be greeted by some of the locals. That is definitely something I like and a lesson in staying in each town for a good length of time to enable me to meet and get to know the people. I’m definitely starting to meet more people which is great, but many new friendships are fleeting as we go our separate ways. It is so easy to meet and ‘bond’ with fellow travelers and swap road stories. It makes the solo traveling hardly solo at all!