La Escualita is a program designed by Saskia, a Dutch Gringo that spends 1/2 time in Nosara and the other 1/2 in Holland. She is one of the people recommended to me by David, our waiter a few nights back, at Marlin Bill's. He felt that his friend Christopher and Saskia may be interested in the community garden and could possibly help find land and people to take part.
The kids and I took Muriel's shift yesterday. The kids from La Escualita were on a field trip to La Luna, a restaurant/ bar on the beach (same owners as Miss Sky, the canopy tour). We'd passed by it when riding to Del Mar. It's just past the point to the west. The bike ride on the beach took us about 1/2 hour. No flat tires this time, but still as hot and hard going at times as when we went to Del Mar. It was about 1/3 the distance, tho.
The kids were just getting registered when we met Saskia and a couple of other gals, one an ex-pat from the US and the other another Dutch. There were two Ticos as well. Not all of the kids showed up, only about 100. They ranged from K-grade 8 or 9.
We were told that our main purpose would be to keep the kids off of the beach, and out of the water, the parents were all told that they wouldn't be going in today. The word the Dutch girl told us to say sounded something like "Bengay". I've searched the Spanish/English Dictionary you sent, Mom, and can't figure out what it is. They said it means "Come". I spent a lot of time motioning to theUncle Bob arrives!
On schedule, but a little travel worn, Uncle Bob came via Daniel's taxi. It was a long day for him, traveling to San Jose, so it was head hit the pillow, then up at 7, feet hit the ground running. The flight into Nosara was most exciting. There was another earthquake (didn't feel that one) so the pilot, upon pre-landing, scooped the nose straight up unannounced. The airstrip was undamaged, so they landed after one circle. phew!
After a good snooze during the day's heat we ate and set off for our turtle tour. They come once a month, en masse, to Ostional Beach. Our taxi driver is Abel (espaniol- Ay beel), with a long, grey braid hanging down his back, and much enthusiasm for all the tourist stuff of his country he drove and explained all our surroundings. We stopped for monkeys in an overhead tree (Abel warns us not to stand below, they do like to poop on people) and he pointed out many trees, including one you asked about, Lynn. Sorry, I have to ask again...my memory fails. The river, which we crossed (is forded the right word? we drove thru it, up to the bottom of the doors) 2 or 3 times, he explained that it's uncrossable in the rainy season. One spot, where there's a walking suspension bridge beside where we crossed, cannot be crossed during the rainy season. The people of Nosara get taken by vehicle to the bridge, they walk across and a truck takes them from the other side to Ostional.
I love these people. They are so sweet and generous. My inner skeptism says that the reason we get such good service, and I'm assuming that this is the standard, is to distract the tourists from the awful roads. Poor Uncle's bones were being jarred with every rock, 1/2 sticking out of the ground, softball-sized and angular, every 10" or so, the washboard and pot holes. Some of the roads are still washed away by the winter's rains. The roads follow natural terrain, with it's ups and downs, often having to go around obstacles like valleys and hills, so they wind and curve. The locals know every pot hole (I think I mentioned before that many of the holes will swallow a truck if you're not watching), so drivers swerve into the oncoming lane, not that there are lanes, often there's not enough room for another full lane, and, alarmingly, there's not a clear line of sight around a corner, while on the opposite side. Abel was very good at pointing to bulls, birds, trees, and monkeys. Is English is very good.
Uncle Bob told Abel that he'd like to buy an old bike and fix it up. Abel tells him where there are some retired bikes, next to the Super Nosara, downtown. He'll have to bus it there.
The turtles were sparse when we went. The monthly "Arribada", arrival, is much more abundant during the rainy season and there are more at night, we were told. I was fine with the 30-50 girls making their way up the beach. The culture hit us like a brick wall again. The people at the site, which is run by the University, don't speak English. This includes our guide, and all the rest of the people going on the tour.
Ostional is the only turtle preserve in the world where some of the eggs can be legally collected. It was a very controversial decision. The people, having been there for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, collecting these eggs, proposed that they be allowed to do so legally, rather than having to steal them in the night. The eggs are sold on the black market. The people believe they provide virility. Because of the deal made between the locals and the University, the eggs can be sold legally from this source. Later in the evening we discuss this deal with Don Carlos on our patio.
I had mixed emotions watching the turtles make their way up to the shore. Uncle Bob's "poor things" caught me thinking the same thing. I'd read that the turtles are unaffected by the bystanders, that they have a mission that cannot be stopped. As a mother of 3, I can understand the drive. But I can't help but wonder if our presence doesn't change their natural state. A few of the turtles came up on the beach, obviously struggling on land with their big, clumsy flippers, only to turn around and head right back.
The men collecting the eggs were carrying bags on their backs that are similar to the white, woven feed bags we buy for chicken feed and oats for the horses. They are big. Our guide told us the bags full of eggs reap $10. You would think they were full of gold, those bags, the way the men carrying them were laughing and celebrating. We watched as some of them pointed their toes heavenward and dug their heal into the sand, over and over until they found a soft spot. There'd be a "Whoop!" and 4 or 5 guys would fall to their knees and dig with their hands. I know, from conversations with the gal I met at the beginning of my journey who stays with the people of Ostional, that this is pretty much the only source of income for Ostional. I have met 2 people working in the tourist industry, but most, I'm told, collect eggs and sell them. There's not as much open friendliness coming from these men as there is from the rest of the people we've met. No "Ola!" no smiles. There is a vibe here. Exciting to watch the turtles, yes, but underlying that is a culture, a way of living that man has replayed many times over history. I can't decide where to put it.
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Next door to us there are a few girls sharing the rent of the newest, most beautiful and biggest house that Craig owns. Muriel who was here with a friend 2 weeks ago, went to stay in another house for a couple weeks and is now back for the duration. She's a nice gal, quiet, which is a relief from the party boys we had in our little cul de sac for a few weeks. Muriel is a massage therapist and is paying for her 3 month stay by setting up shop in this house. There've been days when my aching muscles want to take her up on her offer "Special Tica price, only $60". A steal of a deal, compared to home. Alas, I spend my money on zip lines, horse back rides and turtle tours.
Muriel told me yesterday that Saskia, a lady I want to meet, is the girl to connect with for la Escualita, the summer school. Muriel can't make it to volunteer today, so the kids and I will go for a couple of hours. It's on the next beach over, where Erroll's tire became flat. We'll bike there again today via beach. This time, we'll leave well ahead and ride slowly, taking breaks. Unfortunately, it's mid day when we are to go, so it'll be hot.
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While at Ostional, we bumped into Raineer and his new family. He lives in Ostional, and works as manager at Cafe de Paris. Raineer told me that Don Carlos has something good to tell me but I have to wait for Don Carlos.
After a dinner, treated by Uncle Bob, we were sitting at the house and Don Carlos came to visit. We're told many stories, including one about going to Disney World with the family of Miss Canada, back in his youth. Very entertaining. Perhaps I'll tell the story later. The good thing Carlos has to tell me is that there are 2 options for land. One belongs to his gardener and is beside the road, but about 5 km away. The other is a bit of garden that he told me about on Cafe de Paris land. It's small, tucked away and up on the hill. He spoke with the owner, who said that they would entertain the idea of putting something there to "show the people what can be done". I'm mulling it over.
These are not the last options Carlos says, "give me some time". I think he knows a lot of people here, and is determined to find the right space. I want to talk with the owners and see the space. Perhaps I can morph the idea into one that will work even after I'm gone, if I play my cards right. The garden at Harmony Hotel may be a model. If one at Cafe de Paris can both supply a little organic food, maybe some herbs to their restaurant, and at the same time give some locals the idea of putting together a garden for public use, it might work.
kids saying "Bengay!" and got very strange looks. giggle.
The afternoon was somewhat unstructured. Saskia told me that it's very difficult to round these kids up, that they are not used to much structure. There was a long black poly sheet out on the front lawn, overlooking the beach. Someone stood holding a hose to the kids and the tarp, and periodically squirted more watered down dish soap, while another two held a rope going across the poly. A considerable amount of time was spent lining them up (something that was a given by grade 1 in Canada...."single file, children!" still rings in my ears). With very good tunes blaring (regae) the kids took turns sliding under the rope. I stood at the side lines trying to teach them to come to me and run around to get back in line. There was absolute mayhem as each kid either sat on the tarp, playing in the bubbles or running back, toward the next person in line to do it again. It took a while, but we got it sorted out. There were a few times when 6 or 7 of them ran at the same time, piling up in a tangle of legs, arms, soap and laughing faces.
I haven't smiled and laughed that much in a LOOONG time. I love these kids. There wasn't so much as one complaint, neither about other kids nor getting hurt. There were quite a few bumps, and scrapes, but each one of them took it and ran. Not a fight or tear all afternoon.
There was a fellow taking pictures. I hope to get some from him, as I didn't take my camera (nowhere to put valuables).
The owners of La Luna, locals, donated the space and lunch-hamburgers. Very nice people. We ate, then went down to the beach. The thought was to play frisbee and tug of war. I wondered how serious the leaders were about keeping them out of the water. It was hot, the beach sandy, the water right there.....hmmmm. Me thinks there's trouble here.
It took exactly 0 seconds before they started sneaking in. Got those out, and the next 3, then 5, then 7 kids charged the water. Soon, each of us looked at each other and just as I said "you can't fight it" all 100 kids stormed the beach, screaming. It was a sight to see. We spent the next 45 minutes watching as each wave broke, and crossing our fingers that they would all be safe. They were. At 4 we managed to get them all out and safely dispatched to their parents.
I chatted with Saskia for a while about my ideas, and she invited me back next year to build a community garden at Santa Maria (I think), the elementary school. I have her email, and so can talk more about this. Also, Monday we may ride the bus up to volunteer at the school, where they normally meet. We'll most likely take the craft things Rainne brought and perhaps the school supplies that the kids and St. Peter's Church back home fundraised for.
The event was successful!
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