Samara Beach: “Pura Vida” in Word and Deed

What is "Pura Vida"?

Linguistically, the translation of Costa Rica’s universal “Pura Vida” motto is elastic.  The literal meaning of “Pure Life” can be expanded to cover just about anything that’s affirmative, from “good luck”, to “well done”, to ”you are right”...

Practically, this intangible ethic produces a quality of life that is measurably better in all sorts of ways:  life expectancy, bio diversity, drinkable tap water, stable democracy, incomes, income inequality, lack of violence, literacy, transparency etc.

 Heck, even the national soccer team punches way above its weight!  At the risk of picking the scab on my tender English sensibilities, I went to the trouble of reminding myself how England played in the 2014 World Cup.  After losing to Italy, and after losing to Uruguay, the "Three Lions" finally won a point with a goalless draw against Costa Rica.  By contrast, Los Ticos got all the way to the quarter finals, courtesy of a miserly defence that only conceded two goals over the whole tournament.  In fact, if they had won the penalty shoot out versus the Netherlands, there is no guarantee that they would not, in turn, have beaten a rather underwhelming Argentina team that somehow staggered through to the final.  What might have been!  Not bad for a Latin American country of five million people.

No guns, no gangs, no garbage, no gringo hunting peddlers

We have not experienced any of the trade offs people associate with a Mexican vacation.  There are no trucks filled with soldiers armed to the teeth, driving up and down a tourist beach.  You are not fending off peddlers every five minutes.  The garbage is sorted and disposed of.

Maybe it's because of the never ending Euro crisis, but things are a little different in Southern Europe.  We took this picture in Corfu last year, but it could just as easily have been taken in Sicily.

The local Spanish Language School gets the Swiss seal of approval

Here is the link to the local Spanish language school – https://www.interculturacostarica.com/samara-beach .  

Some of the largest Swiss educational travel agents are big supporters of the school.  Michele can testify that there is a reason why so many Swiss people head for this tiny beach resort to learn Spanish.  As a veteran of many language schools, she has never come across a place so well organized and with such good facilities.  It doesn’t hurt that it’s smack on the beach and that its classrooms are air conditioned.

Having this school is a big win for the Samara economy.  It is a particular boost for single women who can now earn an income as "Tica Mama" home stay hostesses.  The deal is that for a very reasonable price, students get board, lodging and language practice in somewhat rustic (i.e. hot) accommodation.

The resulting cultural encounters give rise to many stories.  The other day one, of our friends was politely asked to leave the house for a couple of hours by a stately, "traditionally built" woman.  The reason?  She was expecting a visit from her "lover".

Another time a student tried to use the micro wave oven, only to discover that it was "roto" (broken).  Asked why the microwave was still taking up space in the cramped kitchen, the hostess explained that the appliance was a great place to store dishes. 

This road smells tasty!

Despite the luxuriant jungle setting, Samara enjoys a desert climate at this time of year.  Consequently any dirt roads are naturally dusty.  Normally people would use oil, if they wanted to keep the dust down.  Here they use molasses.

Walking the talk on Climate Change

When it comes to acting on climate change, the country sets a high bar.

The country's electric utility also provides cell phone coverage.  We had to go to their offices  in order to fix our cell phones.  This poster was on the wall:

Using my admittedly dodgy Spanish, the poster reads as follows:

More than 90% of the country’s electricity comes from renewable sources.  Use electricity efficiently, so that the country does not have to rely for extra electricity on fossil fuels which cause global warming.

Just in case this all sounds too good to be true, I should also point out that we've experienced the occasional three or four hour black out in both cell phone coverage and electricity.

I guess it would also be churlish to point out that most of the nearly three million annual visitors a year, get here by plane.

Good Food, Good People

The Fruteria

Samara does not have a haggling culture.  Everywhere you go, the water from a refrigerated coconut costs you 500 Colones or one US Dollar.  We could buy it anywhere, but we prefer to go to our favorite “Fruteria”.

The young family working there, always have a smile.  After you have drunk from the coconut, they are happy to chop it up so that you can eat the pulp.  There is no thought of a tip (honestly!)  You can also walk out of there with an armful of produce, for less than US$10.

Linguist by day, baker by night

Here is a picture that Michele took of me and Celia.  Celia makes a living selling baked goods off the back of her bicycle.

The success of her business is attributable to the mixture of an effusive personality and incredible linguistic versatility.  Within five minutes, we heard her converse fluently in Spanish, German, French and English.  She was born in the Soviet Union.  Her parents returned to Angola when the Iron Curtain came down.  They later moved to Portugal, then Spain, and finally ended up in Switzerland.

One tough Canadian "Mujer"

Over the last seven years, Joannie has built up "La Princesa" into the dominant bakery at this end of town.

Incidentally, the business is for sale for US$69,000:

As you can see, Joanni is Canadian and proud of it.  Her business might be called La Princesa, but she ain't no princess.  The subject of travelling, as a single woman, in a Muslim country came up.  Her worst experience was having to skip town in Morocco, after "kicking the shit" out of a local guy, who had hoped to molest her.

What happens when good looking young “Gringas” meet magnetic Tico men?

You get a pre-school that is a wonderful fusion of both cultures.  Here is a promotional poster for a great fund raiser concert, that was held the other day:

One of the school’s murals:

PS:  as an ever anxious Dad of two daughters, I am not necessarily recommending this life choice.  Just saying!

Playa Samara: Where the jungle meets the sea

In this place, when you're not enjoying the beach, you're enjoying the jungle:

We have actually seen a lot more wildlife from our apartment balcony, than we did when we queued up at 6:00 am and fought the crowds at Manuel Antonio National Park.

Michele - the wildlife photographer

She could be forgiven for wanting a better camera:

This camera looked a lot more professional before it encountered Cuban sun screen.  If that's what the sun screen did to the camera, I hate to think what it did to us.

Coatis:  Costa Rica's thieving raccoons

These animals will steal anything.  Dustbins have to be reinforced against them.

This one's not letting go of the bread it found:

I was more intimidated by them, than they were by me:

Armadillo

Frog's Nest

This guy made himself right at home.

Birds

Wren

Magpie-Jay

Iguana

Almost looks like a smile

The roar of Howler Monkeys

In the movie Jurassic Park, Spielberg used tapes of Howler Monkeys to create the roar of the Tyrannosaurus dinosaur.

The sound is out of all proportion to their size.  I guess this was the one making all the noise....yes....that would be a guy

Mother and child were a lot quieter:

Frying in Costa Rica's Blue Zone

Just how hot is it?

Too hot for somebody with my Irish blood:

I cool off by going to the beach in a fetching combination of red swim shorts and yellow rash shirt.  I tell myself the effect is like this: 

But I suspect the reality may be closer to this:

Exactly where is Samara Beach?

It is located on the Nicoya Peninsula, at pretty much the back end of nowhere:

We are staying in one of the planet's five "Blue Zones"

Blue Zones are characterized by populations that enjoy extraordinary longevity:

Sure - we would all love to live longer - but this ain't no free lunch - in fact there's not much food at all, certainly no steak and red wine.  About the only thing in generous supply, is a life time of constant manual labour.

It is telling that the only North Americans to make the list, are a bunch of devout Seventh Day Adventists living in California.

If you would like to live long, if not indulgently, then here is a link with the lessons from Costa Rica - https://www.bluezones.com/exploration/nicoya-costa-rica/ 

Life's different here:

Cannot wait for Page 2:

Look at these cute pets:

Well - they are in for a bit of a shock on Sunday!

Costa Rica - Growing Old in a "Socialist S_ _ _ hole"

Just yesterday, we spoke to an intelligent person from the United States, who suggested that Democrat policies were the road to Socialism and Venezuela.  The irony was that in the next breath, she said that she wanted to retire to Costa Rica.

Using Life Expectancy as an admittedly arbitrary indicator, life here would appear to be not too bad:

In May 2018, the Guardian carried a refreshing account by Nobel laureate Joseph Stiglitz, of how Costa Rica is successfully swimming against the global tide of "strong man" populism

Stuart Squirrel's Letter from San Jose

Dear Cousin Lee,

I know, I know - you think I am crazy.  Even though I was not exactly Ivy League material when it came to gathering nuts, you were still kind enough to keep a spot for me in the family firm.  I know how hard you worked over the years to build up "Lee's Luxury Nuts of Lawrence Park" to the point where it is now the biggest seller of winter nuts in Toronto.  Thousands of squirrels would die (actually have died thanks to those brutal Black Crows - shudder!) for a spot at your firm.  Whereas I had the path to partnership laid out on a branch for me.

Well so far things have worked out ok.  Here's a picture of me enjoying Sunday Brunch courtesy of a guest, at the slightly eccentric Hotel Aranjuez in San Jose:

This hotel is not as fancy as the ones that you like to slip into, but it has its own charms.  

The confusing layout is due to the fact that the owners keep buying up their next door neighbors' houses and incorporating them into the hotel.  The fact that there is no real divide between the garden and the rooms, makes it easy for me to get around.

Because I get fed so much at breakfast, I can spend the nights doing my favorite thing - people watching.  Seeing them arrive  from the airport is the best bit.  Always the same thing.  They buzz the door but are reluctant to let the taxi driver go, because they are not really sure whether this place in a dark back alley of San Jose, is the nice hotel they booked online.  The receptionist however speaks perfect English, and reassures them yes, they are at the right place, and yes, they do have a reservation.

Then comes the bit about how the taxi driver drove them in circles all over San Jose looking for the hotel.  The guy behind the counter rolls his eyes in a knowing way.  He circles his finger to mimic the action of the taxi's meter machine racking upwards, and mutters to himself "sí....están locos como un zorro".  My Spanish still isn't great, but I think it means that the drivers are about  as dumb as that fox who ate my brother Bill in the playground in the ravine last summer.  Five minutes later the guest comes back with an empty water jug, asking for some drinking water.  The receptionist assures them that the tap water is safe to drink, but I can see they are not convinced, judging by the way they fish out their phone to Google "drinking the water in Costa Rica".

I know you were too busy getting your winter nut business going, ever to pay much attention to Geography class.  With the help of an old English guy who talks with a strangely  affected Australian accent (maybe he dreams of being a latter day Crocodile Dundee?) I have pasted in a map so that you can see where Costa Rica is:

Getting here was a blast - literally.  Here's a picture of the van that I hitched a ride in:

The owners (dreadlocks, prayer wheels, pajama pants - you get the picture) were very nice.  I now know why they call the van "The Mystery Machine".  The mystery to me is how we ever got down here.  I have never been so baked in my life, as I was from all that second hand pot smoke.

We had a great  time in Baja California, which is in Mexico next to California -  I know, this geography business is as confusing as shit.  Well wherever it was, the surfing was great.  I could not believe it - I took to it way better than those ducklings in the municipal ponds every spring:

If I am going to be honest, it has not all been nuts and parties.  Or at least the only nuts were the Alsatian guard dogs at every border crossing.   Our van just seemed to drive the dogs crazy.  They growled and sniffed around every inch.  I think the only thing that saved me was the fact that the van was such a mess, and smelled so awful, that the boarder guards just wanted to move on.  I still have nightmares.  I wake up in a cold sweat, at the point where slobbering massive jaws are just about to eat me whole.

San Jose itself is ok.  It kind of reminds me of how I would hear people at summer picnics talking about IKEA - nothing wrong with it - just not that inspiring.

I know Lee, that in your Libertarian heart, you like to know where everybody stands politically.  Well to be honest, I think you would be a bit confused by San Jose.  For starters it would probably drive you crazy that all this drinkable water, is pushing the local Coca Cola bottling plant out of business.  I know - yet another example of the Nanny State interfering with the natural order of things.  I have to admit Lee, that you have a point.  This place is weird.  The streets are swept. Garbage is placed in bins. Empty plastic bottles are not strewn all over the place.  It just does not feel natural.

On the other hand you might draw comfort from the fact that the main park has a statue commemorating that lovable old Scottish Robber Barron, Andrew Carnegie.

Likewise there is a piece of Berlin Wall preserved behind bars at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs - like I say all very confusing.

One thing that isn't confusing is the whole masculine feminine thing.  Back in Toronto, I used to look down and kind of reflexively infer that I was a guy.  But oh no, life in Canada ain't that simple!  Maybe I had just been unwittingly subjected to conditioning by the Patriarchy?  Could I hand on heart, honestly claim to be a "sisgendered squirrel"?

Here in San Jose everything is much more straight forward:

Lee, I am not sure when (or how!) I will get back.  Sometimes I am homesick when I think of you lording it over Lawrence Park's famous "Rarefied Ravines of Requited Dreams".  Whenever this happens, I just remind myself of the hours in winter, that you have to spend, just to unfreeze a couple of nuts off the winter stash.

Thinking of you, as always,

Stuart,




P.S.
Please don't show this letter to your kids.  My life sounds fun, but it's really not a good idea.  I would not want them getting any ideas.