Our yesterday ended perfectly. We forewent the beach in the am. The kids had waited 3 days since burning themselves, and wanted to go but by the time they got up, the heat was too much for me.
We (me, mostly) decided that we'd go at night, when it's cooled off a bit. 5:30-6 is when the sun sets, and we've heard lots of people go to watch it and to surf.
We weren't disappointed. The mood on the beach was one of anticipation. Both foreigners and locals piled out, some sitting, making a lovely silhouette for me to photograph.
The kids stayed in the water til just about dark. I haven't been that cool in the evening for a long time!
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This morning, I set out early to rent bikes for a trek to Del Mar Academy. Jessica had advised that we travel the beach to avoid the dusty road, despite the fact that it's about 2X as far, if not more than going the road. I got instructions from Javier "Hola, Margoat" (yes, Margoat, I don't argue much. After all, I think I may say a few things wrong) We exchange pleasantries. I've had enough greetings lessons to at least remember that now.
Sheri came to Robin's and had a coffee with me. She tells me that they must leave the country, having originated from the US, every 3 months for 3 days. She, Robin, and friend Donald are going to Nicaragua on Sunday. We may try to go to her house again before then. Perhaps when Rainne and Di come. Robin has been most gracious in allowing me to use her phone almost daily, to set up appointments. Today, Anna Rita, the principal of the school agreed to meet us at about 10:30 or 11.
It's 9:30 by now, and I know how my teens get going in the am. With showers, a quick bite and packing essentials (water, water water!) we pick up the bikes, already running a bit behind. Erroll notices a flat. Javier pumps it up. NOTHING runs smoothly here! Erroll thinks it's his bum luck, he had a consistent flat at the lake.
Off we go, headed for the beach. It was glorious. for about 10 minutes. The wind off the ocean feels great, but the sand isn't quite as hard as it feels to the bare feet. We bog down and find that there is no perfect spot to ride on. The waves rush up and as it's going back, it loosens sand. The tide is going out, so the closer to the dry sand you get, the looser it is there. We get close to the point and ask several people "Donde este la playa Pelada?" (my spelling may be off, I'm typing this in bed with no internet to copy and paste tomorrow on the blog) "Where is the Palada beach?", where we must go to get onto the right road.
I over heat and have to stop many times. "Why?!" asks Erroll incredulously. Heat makes me grumpy so I didn't convey my thoughts verbally. Maybe it was in my facial expression. He didn't ask like that again.
The beach ends in big, buried, angular rocks. Note to self: this is a nice private part of the beach with pretty trees...a picnic? We push the bikes up, over the rocks and thru the dry sand. UGH! The path is uphill, over some dead-fall trees, and then down some very steep concrete steps. A young Tico says "perhaps I take you there, I go to la Biblioteque". -the library. Normally, I might try to strike up a conversation because we have plans to go the the library, but my heart races and my head feels like it might pop with the heat.
He takes us a little way, then Erroll announces he has a flat. We're thinking by this time we're VERY late for our appointment. I hate being late. But, I try to give the kids a life-lesson. Your mother having a heart attack might take precedence over an appointment at a school. Erroll can set the pace, as he has to walk, and that will be good for Mamma.
Soon we find a store. Pedro's. Run, it looks like, by an ex-pat hippy with a baby Rotty pup. There wasn't a bicycle pump, but it did have COLD water to replenish what we'd gotten out of a tap. And they were the type of bottles that are sealed properly, safe. Sweat had poured down our backs, washing off all the sunscreen. I'm wearing a bathing suit top and shorts that are drenched. The shade on the road is patchy. I'm burning. The kids look pretty angry.
I call the school from their store phone. Thanks, man. Anna Rita understands and estimates that we'll be another 20 minutes, and don't worry about rushing.
Up and down hills, diving into and out of pot holes big enough to swallow a truck, over very large rocks, thru long stretches of hot hot sun, and we finally get there. Swearing that we won't be taking the beach again, surely it must be faster, better, on the road
Anna Rita allowed us some time in the blessedly cool office to simmer down a bit. The kids looked like beets and I think I did too. Sigh. coolness.
For the next while we were very busy, alternately talking about our understanding of what is to be for this Del Mar Academy Community Garden and calling Javier to come with the bicycle pump, and Anna Rita phoning people to see if they could do anything about the still-burning dump. Anna Rita is a young, tall, dark-eyed beauty. We expressed gratitude to one another, she, for my contribution to the school and me for allowing me to be involved. It was expressed that the school, wanting to be secure, wants to keep the memberships to families of children who attend. I had pre-knowledge of this. A little bit of a trade-off, because even though I knew that the school's parents have money (I've been told what the monthly dues are and can attest to this) and my original thoughts were to help those more in need, this school offered land and members built in. Both of those things would have proven to be a daunting task to secure from Canada.
Next, out to meet with Manuel, the gardener, who speaks only Spanish. Anna Rita acts as an interpreter. I have never experienced having a full conversation with an interpreter before. It was exhilarating. Manuel and I, thru Anna Rita, discussed why it must be during the rainy season. Both gardeners I've seen so far feel that this is a better time to plant, so I wanted to exhaust that idea before moving on....we aren't ready to plant anyway. I've thought alot about the you tube videos (that's online videos created by anyone wanting to do so about anything they want) that I've seen on the subject of Community Gardens. I've viewed videos of gardens in New York, California, England, Australia, you name it. They all have a lot of things in common, one being that it takes a few months to put it together.
The first thing I noticed, was that the site is very close, perhaps 100'! There is a spigot at the school, and the well is closer than that to the garden. I'm excited about this fact, as I'd been told that the site is far from the school (I thought a couple acres away). The second is that it's cleared! Manuel has been busy. The grounds of the school are fabulously kept. More notes to self: take more pictures. Manuel asks if I'm pleased with the set up. I smile to let him know how much I'm pleased and say that I'm glad it's not bush, like that (pointing over there, by the fence line). He smiles back and explains that the only reason that bush over there is kept long is to allow the animals, the sheep in particular, feed. There's sheep! More importantly, there's sheep POOP!
Oh, goodness me.
They have an animal pen, adjacent to the garden site, with turkey's chickens ducks, sheep, goats. There is a method of collecting the manure that I'm unfamiliar with, and Anna Rita was unable to translate, but it sounds like they have their poop in a group. grin.
The school has hired a compost consultant to build compost bins, with worms and without.
We were invited back on next Tuesday, when the environmental committee will be meeting. This is contingent on whether the fire is put out at the dump. They think that the authorities have finally listened and will be putting it out soon.
The hot ride home on the road was uneventful, except that it increased the depth of our burns, our appetite and made us all appreciate the good food at Cafe de Paris and their pool, that much more. It's 9:30 and I think I will save my post about Raineer tomorrow. Even the noisy american boys next door (Virginia grows them that way) won't keep me awake tonight.
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