Libby_or_Bust

I arrived in Quepos on Wednesday, after a intestinally tumultuous 4 hour bus ride. I don’t know exactly what it was that I ate on Tuesday that made me feel as though I was moving a raccoon-sized spiky ball of pain through my body, but let’s hope we never cross paths again. If you’ve ever found yourself weighing the relative merits that the relief shitting yourself on a public bus would bring versus the embarassment and smell, then you know the kind of Libby that was on that bus. Thankfully, I made it to Quepos intact, met a couple of German girls at the bus station, and got to a hostel quickly. Later we went out to eat at a pizzeria. The pizza was salty and overpriced, but it was cool to talk with the girls; two twenty-year-olds travelling in Central America after high school to learn Spanish and freak out their parents a little. The highlight of the evening in terms of patheticitiy was the live band happening in the restaurant over. It was a few older, long-haired gringos who had somehow commandeered the instruments and the space and were attempting quite a medley while we ate. My favorite of all was the acoustic attempt at Pink Floyd’s The Wall: “Hey! (strum, strum) Teacher! (strum, strum) Leave them kids alo-one! (strum strum strum strum).”
Quepos has a weird feel to it, kind of like that painting in Scooby Do cartoons that has eyes that move with you when you walk away, so you feel like you’re being watched, but don’t know by whom. So after walking around town a bit in the morning, I packed up and headed south to Manuel Antonio, 7 km away and way more touristy, but with a cool hostel and people to hang out with and play cards until 2 am.
More on that — and my visit to the reserve to climb on big rocks and look at crabs — next time. Stay tuned

Well, I´m back in the city. I returned to Alajuela last night for my third dentist appointment — it went very well, thanks for asking — and came back to cars and electricity and noises that now strike me as quite unnatural. I only spent a week with Sue in the bush, as it were, but I acclimated quite quickly and found it to be full of both rest and activity. Those of you familiar with my sleeping habits (that is, any time, any place) will be surprised to find that I not only woke up with the rooster at 5am, but what´s even crazier, I actually got out of bed and functioned. The whole day.
Take a second and let that sink in.
So here´s a sampling of some of the things I did at Sue´s finca: Shoveled horse manure and transported it to the compost pile; picked, processed, and toasted coffee beans; watched a family of firey-billed Aracaris (look like Toucans, taste like chicken) eat plantains from the birdfeeder; washed my clothes by hand; learned how to chop wood with a machete; sweated a lot. It was amazing. Sue and I get along really well and I feel totally comfortable and happy staying with her. I would have been completely content but for the creepy-crawly things. Lots and lots of creepy-crawly things. Lots and lots. And lots. Did I mention the creepy-crawly things? There are a lot of them. Seriously. After learning quickly and first-hand about biting ants, I was vigilant about shaking out everything before letting it touch my soft, juicy, pink body. I was also vigilant about covering every bit of exposed skin and wearing a hat and gloves into the cafetál (the coffee orchard). During our second round of picking, I watched a spider drop down in front of my face and then climb back up its thread onto my hat.
Okay, so I want to keep writing, but apparently this internet place attracts really loud young American women who like to skype, and it´s very difficult to think with ”i mean, my host parents really don´t want me to leave, but i really want to go home.” Irritate.
To be continued….