Sunset

This was taken on one of the last nights of my trip in Costa Rica. 

Polo Beach

 

Hammocks

This is where we stayed in Bocas Del Toro in Panama.
"Private bathrooms, kitchens, mocks (hammocks)" 

Border Crossing

We had to cross this border on foot, crossing the bridge. Panama makes Americans pay $5 to get in, they havn't quite forgiven us yet. 

The slow boat to Granada

When all you have in Plaintains, you make Plaintain pillows... 

Reaganomics

Leon is the liberal counterpart to conservative Granada.
You can see they're still thinking about our involvment down here.

This is a picture of Reagan sitting on the shoulders of a sandanista farmer, and her wrists are cut open.

Im not sure who the two joker characters are. Any ideas?? 

Volcan Conception

This is one of the two volcanos that make up Isla Ometepe, inside the huge Lake Nicarauga. This is volcano is still pretty active. You can climb up this volcano about halfway if you want to. 

The Carribean, Universities and the Final Days

After leaving the land of Lakes and Volcanoes I spent two days travelling all the way down to the Carribean coast of Panama, passing through Costa Rica in one fell swoop. The long journey was well rewarded once I arrived in Bocas Del Toro, Panama.
We spent one cramped night in the over touristed over crowded town of Bocas, but left early the next morning for the tranquil, less visited island of Bastimientos. On this island there is one carribean village, and two smaller native villages. We stayed in the Carribean village, which consists of a single road, only wide enough for walking, biking and I imagine the occasional horse. Its about a kilometer long, slighty longer than half a mile, and has just a few little spurs running off further into the forest. Most of the rest of the island is forested. On one of the beaches we came across the remnants of an old television set, the remains of the latest installment of Survivor.

Much of our time here was spent in hammocks, on the beach or cooking fresh fish. There's a gorgous beach about half an hour from the town, aptly called 1st beach. If you were to continue down from there you could hike to several other beaches, crossing over the rocky headlands that seperate them. We spent our first afternoon hanging out there, swimming and a bit of snorkelling. This is where we found the Survivor remnants, a strange looking fort type structure. We met two young americans, around my age, who had recently bought some land on the island and were in the process of constructing a home. They also bought a horse which I got to ride up and down the beach for a while, which was fantastic. I also got a little sun poisoning which wasn't so fantastic.

Our second day, we found oursevles a boatman and caught a ride to the other side of the island to a beach called Polo Beach. Polo Beach is named after its owner, Polo, who is a man of inderminate origin who claims to have bought the beach over 40 years ago. He's been living there ever since, in a small house, on his own. He's a bit crazy. But, he gets plenty of visitors, who often bring him beer, which is what we did. Once he decides you're cool his beach is open, and its beautiful. Pristine, and exactly what you would picture when you think of the carribean. We all brought our snorkels and spent the day visiting friends with scales.


The next day I spent out of the sun, and in a hammock, reading Joyce's Dubliners.
That night the rains started and we knew it was time to go.

We woke up early, heading back to the bigger island and then finally back to the mainland, where we caught a taxi all the way to the border. I sat in the front of the cab, with the swiss couple sitting in back. So, I was delegated to talk to the taxi driver, who was actually half Costa Rican, which was his explanation for talking so much. We had a nice conversation, and I understood most of what he was saying until we got to politics. I asked him who the current president was, and that opened up the whole Noreiga story. And somewhere in there, I heard a story of a man who's head was cut off and never found, and another man slashed open by a large knife. This I don't have any pictures of.

From the border we caught a local Costa Rican bus, and headed to the carribean town of Puerto Viejo. They say its lovely, but we never saw much of it, since it never stopped raining (I heard it did finally stop about 2 hours after I left). But, we had a great pizza dinner there.

I headed back to San Jose, spent a night in a hostel there, and then made plans to visit the two universities. A Costa Rican girl I met travelling in Gautemala offered to show me around, so she picked me up and we headed first to the main university, nearest to the capital. My plan was to spend today walking around and getting a feel for the campus, and also finding the office I was supposed to visit the following day for my appointment with a professor. I was planning on visiting the second university the day after that. I walked around the campus, watched a bit of a soccer match, and then tried to find the office. We had a bit of trouble finding the office, mostly since the office was actually at the second university and so was the professor. So in the end, there was no reason to visit the first university, but it was cool to see it.
That night we went out to one of the only two jazz clubs in Costa Rica. The vibe inside was great and the musicians were good, mixing straight standards with latin grooves.
The following day I visited the proper university and had my appointment, on Tico time, about an hour late (the professor was "delayed"). The program sounded quite interesting, and balancing out the crumbling conditions of the university's campus, the field work throughout Costa Rica sounds wonderful and beautiful.

Having taken care of all my "responsobilities" I headed out to the beach for my last few days. I went to Manuel Antonio where my father's friend's family lives. I actually was able to stay in an empty neighbor's house, and use another friends car while I was there, so I was really living in luxury. I spent my days lounging on a secluded beach, and horseback riding, which I have to say was a lovely end for the trip.

I'm writing these final words here in Brooklyn, and I have to say, its not as cold as I feared. I guess Jesus really does love me.

Be well everyone,
I hope to see you all in person sometime soon,
Oren

Boys being boys

This is in Antigua Gautemala. I found these boys shooting off fireworks and asked to take their picture. They happily obliged. 

Viva La Revolucion, The Land of Lakes and Volcanos

Im sitting here in Granada, Nicaragua, leaving in a couple hours heading down to San Jose Costa Rica. Nicarauga was an unplanned stopover, and has been wonderful. We originally thought wed only pass through Nica on our way down to Costa Rica, but decided a visit to a new country was preferable to two straight days on the bus.

We spent our first few Nicaraguan days in the liberal capital of Leon. The Sandanista prescence in still strong here, and we saw a really great Sandanista band play at a student bar our first night. The bar was packed with young locals, who knew the words to all the songs, and who all sang along as they drank more and more. We spent a few days soaking up the feel of the place, and actually saw the father of Sandanista music on our last night. This crowd was quite different from that of that of the student bar, with admission costing 100 cordobas as opposed to 10 (about $7 as oppossed $.70). This restaraunt was full of the local well to do, and was an interesting contrast, but much less lively or fun.

We took one day trip out of Leon, to a volcano called Cerro Negro (Black Hill). Its a recently active volcano, last erupting in 1999. The entire hill truly is black, having erupted so recently no plants have yet had the chance to make a foothold. We drove for about an hour out of the city with our guide, down bumpy dirt roads, through agricultural fields, past shacks for houses, and dodging the occasional pigs, chickens, dogs and children all playing in the road. We arrived at the base of the hill, with several other, less recently active, greener volcanos in view as well. Along one side, large volcanic rocks were the path up. We arrived at the first crater, still smoking, smelling of sulfur. We were able to hike down into the crater and right up to the sulfur vents. Suprisingly, there was an abundance of beetle life on top of the crater. Ive never seen such an interesting variety of colors and patterns anywhere before. You wouldnt think anything would be attracted to such a barren and harsh landscape, but I imagine the beetles were attracted to smells only a beetle could love. We spent a while in the first crater, then continued hiking upwards, to peer down in the second smoking crater. This one was inaccessible by foot, but the top of the hill afforded some great views in all directions, and all the way out to the Pacific off to the west. Definitely the best part, the most fun part of Cerro Negro was the way down. On the opposite side of hill from the lava flows, a fine volcanic sand softens the hill. Imagine skiing on foot, in the summer heat. The sand was soft and viscous, and you could ski through, or take giant leaps down the steep slope and safely land and take another leap. Jumping as high and as far as you could felt like jumping on the moon. The steep slope made each leap seem that much higher, and landing so softly made gravity seem that much fainter. Its a bit hard to imagine, but if you ever happen to be on top of a volcano, Id recommend it as the best way down.

After leaving Leon, we headed down to San Juan Del Sur, near to the Costa Rican border, for New Years Eve. We ended up at a hostel full of french and french canadians, the most french speakers Ive seen anywhere outside of france, which was a cultural change. The town of San Juan itself, is alright, a tourist beach town, with plenty of internet shops, bars and surf shops. The beach in the town is lined with bars, and the cliffs on either side are littered with fancy foreign ownded real estate. This is the Miami Beach on Nicarauga. This is where in the Nicas Ricas come to play, and streets were teeming with wealthy Nicaraugan teeny boppers. There are several beaches to the north and south, which are much more pristine, and much more beautiful, but no less populated with wealthy locals escaping Manauga. I imagine the majority of expensive SUVs in the country were lining the small dirt roads on the way to the northern beaches. We spent New Years Eve in town, counting down on the beach, watching the plethora of fireworks exploding around us (fireworks are a national pastime all through central america). We spent the rest of the night dancing in the beachside discos. I did spend a couple days in Playa Majagual, playing in the waves and taking in some sun.

Rachel had to head back home after new years, and with some new friends from San Juan, I headed to Isla Ometepe, quite a unique and spectacular natural phenomenon. Lake Nicaruaga is huge, so huge in fact you could almost fit all of El Salvador inside. Its the 10th largest fresh water body in the world, and home to the worlds only fresh water sharks, who made their way from the ocean up a river, and took advantage of the open spot on top of the food chain. People actually get attacked by these fresh water sharks, though their presence does nothing to keep people out of the lake. All along the lake shore people are swimming and diving. In the middle of the lake, is a large island called Isla Ometepe, dominated by two large volcanos. The legend of the island actually equates these two large volcanos, appropriatly positioned, to the two breasts of a fallen Native princess. The island is the most populated island in the lake, with towns and farms ringing the shoreline around the volcanos. We stayed in a small Hacienda, right along the lake shore, on the smaller island, at the base of Volcan Madera. The hacienda was beautiful and catered to every need, with breakfest and dinner buffets, kayaks, mountain bikes and plenty of hammocks. A great group of travellers were staying there, and we had plenty to do.
My first day there I took out a kayak and visited the local monkey islands, two tiny islands right off the shore, populated with rescued pet monkeys. These monkeys, being rescued, though, dont seem too grateful, or more accuratly do seem quite vengful. They are vicious, and the illustrated sign (a monkey with large fangs, biting into a human skull) warned us so. Though, visiting them is still quite popular. Its only a short paddle along the shore out to the monkeys, and vigilance is necessary. We were conversing with some fellow boaters, while we unknowingly drifted into attack range. At the last second we heard a white face monkey flying through the trees in our direction, and started paddling backwards, just in time to seem him reach the outer most branches, teeth and claws bared. Luckily for us, and especially Michelle, who was sitting in front of the kayak, he figured the leap was a bit too far, and the chance of getting wet a bit too high. I did meet an australian here in Granada though, who didnt read the warning signs and ventured too close. A monkey jumped on his boat, laughed at the boys attempts to swat him off with the paddle, forcing the aussie to abandon ship out into the lake.
My second day I rented a full suspension mountain bike (the roads here are as bumpy and rocky as any intentional mountain bike trail actually in the mountains) and set off to explore with Nate from San Fran. We visited a beautiful natural pool, which was just what we needed to cool off after an hour of riding in the sun. We also visited a ranch with pre columbian petroglyphs, telling the stories of the islands original inhabitants, which I found particulary interesting. I was planning on leaving the following morning, but late that night was finally convinced to climb Volcan Madera, quite a popular hike. I hadnt originally planned on climbing, not having hiking boots and not feeling particulary hikey. But, the group who climbed the day before was unrelenting and their tales of adventure finally seduced me. We woke early the next morning and I donned some borrowed rubber mud boots. We set off from the Hacienda on what ended up being a 8 hour slog, through mud, swinging from trees on the way up and down. I cant say that I really enjoyed much of it, not really even having time to enjoy the view. At the top, there is a lake in the crater, but it was too cloudy to see more than 20 feet in any direction. The way down was even more of a muddy slog, though I took my time on the way down, and found a few choice spots to stop and soak in the cloud forest. In the end, I wouldnt do again or even recommend it to all but the most interested, but no regrets.

We took the direct and slow ferry to Granada the next morning. A beautiful ride past the lakes many other islands.

Granada is a colonial city as well, the conservative counterpart to liberal Leon, with which its shared a conflicted past. Its a lot more touristy, and the paint is a lot fresher, but I liked the feel of Leon a lot better. I did end up at a fun hostel here though, and met some fun people. And there is a lot to see around Granada. I viseted two more volcanos, reaching the top of these both by motorized transport. One is still quite active with a large smokey crater, and one being inactive has the only remaining cloud forest in this part of Nicaragua. The views from both were great. We spent our last full day at Laguna De Apoyo, which is a collapsed volcanic crater, now full of water, which is quite beautiful.

In just a few hours Im taking an 8 hour bus journery to San Jose Costa Rica, starting off the last leg of my trip.

Ill be in touch again soon...

Chicken Buses

Back in NYC the Fung Wah bus company, operating routes from chinatown to chinatown across the northeast has often been called a chicken bus. Compared to transport here in Guatemala, Fung Wah is rock star transport. I've been having a fabulous time here in Guatemala so far and have been travelling often, trying to see as much as I can before heading to El Salvador, two days from now. Though, I can say with much confidence I will not miss the buses one bit. Chicken bus takes on a new meaning here. A seat, on a yellow school bus (painted any number of different colors, none the usual yellow, the merry pranksters could fit in driving their famous bus around here), which would normally seat 2 adults, at most 3 small children, often seats upwards of 3 adults at once. On my ride this morning I shared a seat with a mother and her two children, and other man, me in the middle. I guess they never read that article about the woman who died from a blood clot while seated in economy class on an airplane. An economy class seat would seem like a first class, fully reclining bed compared to the seats here. We often travel by mini bus as well, which can be even worse. I spent two nights in a small resort nestled in a beautiful valley. To reach the resort I rode in the back of a pickup truck. To leave two days later I was on a minibus, somewhat. By the time I got there, the bus probably had 30 people with seats for 12 at most, and about 5 people hanging out the door, me inlcluded. When we reached the bottom of a large hill, about 15 of us got out and walked up the hill so the bus would be able continue.

I can say with confidence as well, though, that arriving at each new destination the journey was always worth it. And I'll often have wonderful conversations with Gautemalans as we ride. I've had my first political conversation in spanish.