Sheri's garden

Truly, what an awesome day! The heat was incredible, as was the humidity. I don't have any way of measuring the heat unless I look online, which didn't happen today, but my guess would be 35 C and who knows what the humidity was, except it was pouring off my back.

I started out at Robin's, allowing the kids their sleep in, and sneaking coffee with milk. The gal at the table beside me, Alexis, is from Toronto. We chat about gardening, business, the fact that the N. American woman's size 8 is based on her body (cool), her travels and mine, food issues, both the world's and our own. I hope we stay connected.

Rousting the boy, we get going to the bus stop to start our trek out to Sheri's, just outside Nosara. I started to wilt there. The wait was about 1 hour long...typical, I'm told. Sheri is to meet us at her stop, the last in Nosara at El Colegio (The College, which is the high school). I chat with a Tico girl, who has excellent English. She'd spent a few years living in the US, so that her parents could work. We quiz her on Spanish and when the bus finally comes, she allows us to go before her, and pays the rest of our fair. We'd been told that it would cost 300 colones each, but it was 350. The driver didn't know how to tell us, so she just paid it and wouldn't accept any $ from us. I hope we stay connected too. Marie. Nice girl. She works as a massage therapist by our house and lives up in Downtown Nosara.

The bus is a yellow school bus painted green. Marie tells me if it's the green one, Oh! so nice. :) I think this was in reference to the other one, which is not so nice. Neither offer much more than a school bus can. The roads here are so bad that everything squeaks, and of course even with the windows open the 1/2 hour ride is sweltering on those vinyl seats. No chickens, Uncle Bob!

The Ticos throw polite, side-long glances at us, I'm sure they were wondering what we're doing taking the bus, when all the other foreigners rent SUVs that speed around, kicking up dust. The bus groans around a corner and the driver grinds the gears going up a hill. We slow to a growling crawl. The edges of the road drop off down 45 degree hills. "I think I can", I chant to myself.

Sheri waits for us on a bench at a rusty roofed restaurant, where the bus backs in, ready to turn around and go back from where it came. Smiles and welcomes. She tells us Donald, she and Robin's friend, has lent her his truck to take us to her house. Nice. I would've walked the 10 minute walk up the road, but wasn't looking forward to more dust and heat.

When we get to her house, Sheri directs us past her garden, toward the promised swim at the waterfall. Grabbing us some water bottles, she starts out in front, setting a good clipped pace. Her thin frame, tanned and strong, is used to work and a fast walk. I ask about her origins, knowing that Hawaii was home to her. A great mix, including some Japanese and some Scandinavian, she says.

We meet up with Donald and some of his friends who've just come from the waterfall. Sheri points along the way to this house and that land, being an excellent guide. We've gone thru 2 or 3 barbed wire fences that keep cows in from the neighbouring farms. The waterfall is either on public land or someone's who shares with people like us who need a reprieve from the harsh conditions. We walk thru and across 6' wide and just inches deep creeks, and past deep pits that just a few weeks ago were overflowing and good places to swim. It's dry season, and all but the waterfall pool dry up.

It's a beautiful setting, with lichen on the trees and rocks, water splashing down mountainous looking rock. It's shady and cool. A tree, some 7' thick drinks up the cool, fresh water. We pick our way thru the rocks at the edge of the dark pool, and dive right in. It's not huge, perhaps 30' across, but we can't touch the bottom. My mind only allows a brief thought of tropical beasties swimming around my legs , then the sensation of cool, clean water takes over. The kids are delighted that they are allowed to climb the steep black rock up to the next pool, but are instructed that they may not jump. There are rocks hidden just below the surface in places. I'm completely happy, floating and allowing myself the luxury of thinking for a moment about the land Sheri tells me that Donald is selling, much like acreages.


Still wet, we make our way back to look at the gardens. There's one shelter with shade cloth and another with wavy plastic. What's that stuff called, Dad? Sheri tells me it's not the best, it's gone cloudy after a year or two, doesn't let the sun in. It's better than sheets of UV greenhouse plastic. That stuff doesn't last much longer than a year and it's very expensive. Difficult to bring in. Everything's hard to get here. On all sides, there's rippley metal from the ground up about 3' to protect from Iguanas. They can't climb the slippery, wavey outside. Inside, it's beautifully kept. Not a weed in sight. The soil is mounded and obviously had been watered today.

The plants, are all healthy looking and lush, green. There's several types of lettuce, the reds the best, as they are never attacked by bugs.Tomatoes grow on the vines, but there's disappointment in the fact that some of them are large tomatoes, as the cherry tomatoes are so popular. There was some talk from Ryan that the larger tomatoes, so cherished in Canada and US, can get buggy before they're ripe, and so many people who grow here grow only the cherry. There's basil, which Sheri says isn't doing well, altho it's about 10X the size of anything I've ever grown. Butternut squash, cucumber, peppers, bush beans, bok choi. We try some mustard greens, smaller than Anna's, but tasty. The arugula is also small, but Sheri prefers it that way, it's got a nicer taste.

Seeds are hard to come by here. I think there are similar ways of bringing them as our forefathers from their countries. The rains take everything out during rainy season. Sheri was "rescued by boat this winter. The water had missed the house, but covered her 5' gates. Both Ryan and Sheri say this is a better time of year to plant than the rainy season. One of the most difficult things to obtain is potting soil. Peat moss is a rarity here. Makes me want to find alternative materials to grind and mix up. Sheri's tried all sorts of things, to no avail. Seeds just need that potting soil. The sun is the next hurdle. Have to have a structure. "Get a Tico man to do it, they know how. They cut whatever trees they need from the bush and dig them in."

A water well sits off to the side in the garden. It's a small, roofed, open sided structure that houses the ever important life-blood of a garden. I look on in deep thought. Will the school be able to afford the cost? We'll have to see.

In the mean time, we eat a lunch at Sheri's counter, her still playing the perfect host. We share a little maple candy and she brings out her bag of wonderful greens! OH. MMMM. I miss that. Having taken the year off of gardening, it's been far, far too long since I've put fresh garden greens into my mouth. Briefly, I make note that none of us are following our health nurse's outdated advice. Don't eat anything you can't peel or cook. Nothing could stop us from diving into that bowl of shared goodness!