Life is good

This may have been the most memorable week of my life. Perhaps of your life too. It suddenly feels like a great time to be alive. There’s a new and unfamiliar vibration in the air, eerie yet electrifying. I have to wonder, is it all Obama? Is there some universal wave of excitement that made its way to Costa Rica? I can’t say for sure, but here at the farm, we are thrilled.

Obama aside, my first ten days in Costa Rica have been amazing. I absolutely love it here. There is so much to say, so much more than my tired coffee-picking fingers can type, but I will share as much as they’ll allow. I’m just going to break it down by topic, hopefully answering the basic questions that you might have.

The people: The main people in my daily life are Frank, the owner of the property, Angel, the caretaker of the farm, and the other volunteers. When I first arrived, there were five others, and now there are just two. All in all, there have been 3 guys and 3 girls here, ranging in age from 19 to 29. It is so fascinating to see how all these strangers come together and build relationships so quickly and how, even in such a short time, it is sad to see people leave.

Early on, we seemed to have bonded over one topic: Frank. A nice soft-spoken man in his 50s, from New Mexico, kind of quirky and funny, seemingly harmless. Yet somehow he manages to give all of us the creeps. Don’t be alarmed, it’s under control, but the guy has said some weird things to me. My first night he asked if I wanted to go in his jacuzzi tub with him, the next invited me over for dinner and a movie. He has offered to teach me massage, suggested we do yoga together, and the list goes on. (In case you weren’t sure, I said no to all of them.) Boy is he creepy, but, thankfully, pretty easy to avoid. We have too much fun making fun of him to really be bothered.

Then there is Angel, a 41 year old Nicaraguan man, who is like the anti-Frank. He is such a huge source of joy in my life here. He lives with his family in a house on the property and started working here about 11 years ago, long before Frank bought the property in 2005. Though Frank owns the farm, Angel really runs the show. He knows everything about all the plants we grow and leads the volunteer crew every day. Actually, he seems to know everything about everything. He is an amazing teacher, so patient and helpful and just so much fun to be around. We are extremely lucky to have him on the farm. Even if I left here with nothing other than my friendship with Angel, I would be perfectly content.

The layout of the farm: Frank’s property consists of the farm land, his house, an a-frame we call the chalet, a cabin, and Angel’s house. The first few nights I stayed by myself in the a-frame, but then moved into the cabin because I didn’t like the darkness. Here I get to wake up to the sunlight in the morning and our view is spectacular. We also get hot water here (a huge plus) and have a little kitchen. We had 4 people in here, but now it’s just me and another gal Martha.

The work: I have worked 6 days now. Most of my time has been devoted to coffee picking which is pretty tiring but enjoyable in a meditative kind of way. Every weekday we work from 6am to 1pm, with a one hour lunch. First thing in the morning, we are given a canasto (basket) that we fasten around our waists and a sack (see picture). Angel leads us to a section of the farm where coffee has ripened and we divide and conquer. Usually he puts us close together, which makes it much more enjoyable (I like to make up games). All it really entails is picking the ripe cherries, which are usually red, though sometimes yellow. It is pretty straightforward, unless there are questionable cherries, which look a bit dried out. I usually just squeeze them and determine the ripeness by their juiciness.

Angel told me that his family, who helps with the coffee, gets paid about 80 colones (approximately $1.50) for a basketful of cherries, which weighs about 20 pounds. This is about the average pay. It would probably take me, at my leisurely pace, the whole work day to fill just one. With 2000 hand-picked cherries equaling just one pound of coffee, you may find new appreciation for your morning cup of joe. I know I have.

The city: The city of Sarchí is small, quaint and artsy. We are about a 30 minute walk to town. Since we’re at the top of a long hill, I sometimes walk to town and take a bus back up, though today I rode on a tractor. Buses are very common here and take you to neighboring towns as well as San Jose, the capital. They are super cheap, about 25 cents to get to town. The city has everything I really need, including a couple different internet cafes I go to about twice a week. I enjoy just sitting at the park and people watching, New York style.

The food: Frank provides us with staples (rice, beans, oatmeal, pasta) and we can eat anything the farm grows. Unfortunately, there isn’t very much to eat on the farm on a regular basis. I’ve been waiting on a bunch of bananas to ripen since I got here. I am very excited about those. We have avocados, which are delicious. I have two in the cabin right now that need a couple more days to ripen. My favorite plant though is the caña (sugar cane). I will post a picture of this contraption that Angel made that we use to squeeze out the juice. The juice is so refreshing and I like to munch on the cane when there’s some juice left on it. There are also some oranges, though I avoid them cause they sometimes have small transparent worms that blend in too well.

The culture: The national expression is “pura vida,” which translates to pure life. I thought that sounded pretty cool, though I didn’t really understand it until spending a week here. It’s quite a magical feeling. Life just feels more real here, the experiences more rich, the interactions with people more genuine. I have had a difficult time finding time to write because life is just so enjoyable that I just want to keep taking it all in.

One of my Costa Rica books said that this country ranks #8 in the list of friendliest places in the world. I have to disagree. While people are quite nice and helpful when you ask them something, people on the street don’t come across as warm at all. They mostly look at us gringas (white girls) like we’re aliens. It’s one of my few frustrations.

Language: I love speaking Spanish. Most days I speak more Spanish than English, mostly because of Angel, who only speaks Spanish. Sometimes it is quite difficult, like when I’m tired. I was telling Angel last night that it’s hardest first thing in the morning and late at night, but in the middle of the day, it’s really enjoyable. I can communicate well in town, going to the internet café, the post office, the market, etc. I even got in an argument with the guy working at the ice cream shop…in Spanish! That was a trip. Not a good person to piss off, since ice cream here is so good!

It just keeps getting better here every day. Skyped with my parents today. Life is good :)