I know it has been a while since the last post. So much has been going on that I haven't found the time, or haven't had the energy when I had the time, to spend it creating the blog. Me disculpa!
The trip to Monteverde was beautiful.
Monteverde really just a thin strip of land strung between two well-preserved cloud/rain forests in the mountains of Costa Rica a few miles north of the costal city of Puntarenas. When I say 'preserved' I mean just that. The roads into the area are fine, for a while, but then they become tiny dirt paths, just about wide enough for a bus, and so steep, sometimes, that you wonder how anything gets up them.
And this is by design!
The Quaker community who settled there didn't want a lot of tourist trade to upset the ecological balance and have lobbied to stop developments on the roads, leaving it up to those who are stout of heart and determination to make the trip. The roads inside the communities of Moteverde and St. Elena are nicely paved, but getting to them could seem like a nightmare (which it did when arriving long after dark and watching the bus driver negotiate the hairpin turns in a forty-five passenger Greyhoud).
During the day, however, your mind is distracted from the rigor of the trip by scenery, about which words seem puny to describe. This scenery remains pristine because the communities have fought to preserve the delicate eco-balance and therefore give hope to the committed traveler that there may be a way to turn around the mess we have made of this tiny blue marble in space. Organic farming, the use of alternate energy sources, and a stout resolve to make it all work, is inspiring.
While the sun was out I was treated to the most amazing views. Mountains rising straight up from the road, covered in lush green. The road nothing but a thin strip, sans any railing or other guards to keep the careless from falling hundreds of feet below, where everything is also emerald and filled with life. Below you, the valleys cut through the green in narrow strips, and nestled in, here and there, are clouds, white and fluffy, like small animals burrowed in for a nap.
I couldn't help but think of that miniature poem by Carl Sandburg:
The fog creeps in on little cats feet
It sits there on its hauches
Looking over harbor and city
and then moves on.
The clouds were sometimes above us, white and billowy.
Sometimes just a mist that shrouded the topmost curves of the mountains.
Sometimes below us, filtering through the crevices and blurring the small communities tucked in between peaks.
Sometimes all around us, cooling the air significantly, and blocking view of anything more than a few feet away within the encircling space.
In the afternoon, as I was walking back from the national forest in Monteverde to the little backpackers hostel in which I was staying, the air suddenly became almost chill and the clouds rolled in, sifting through, lifting for a brief moment, and then settling in again. A jacket was not wasted there, though after walking for just a few moments up and down the extreme grades of the road, I had to shed it because the air was so thick and full of humidity. I took several pictures, one of which was the path in front of me on the way to a pequeno (tiny) but wonderful mariposa preserve (butterflies). It was little more than a tunnel of clouds burrowed through the density of the trees shading the path. The picture looks like something out of an eerie thriller, where the music in the background signals something dire in the mist.
I'll try to post pictures when I return.
It is the Quaker community who took responsibility for preserving the rain forest and cloud forest which top the two peaks along the strip of land. They came to the area because, as committed pacifists, they wanted to be able to live and work without having to worry about the draft which had resulted in so many of them being imprisoned during the Korean Conflict and World War II. Costa Rica had dissolved their army following the Second Great War, and had already begun funneling the resulting windfall of tax revenue into the two significant issues of ecology and education within the country. It seemed, therefore, a likely place to begin a community where they could work and be left in peace. They raise an abundance of cattle and crops.
Indeed, one of the 'must see' tours is their dairy and cheese factory.
It was, of course, closed on Sunday when I was there.
The Quakers have been joined by other stout souls and the resulting communities have done an amazing job to preserve the beauty of the area. There are so many species of animals, birds, snakes, insects, etc. within and around the two forests, that it has become a watchers paradise. Everyone wants to see the resplendent, long-plumed quetzal. We actually saw two on our guided tour through the forest. (I took the tour, indeed all the tours, in spanish by the way).
There isn't a lot to do in the evening and St. Elena is small, but I managed to find a restaurant built around a huge fica tree, and had dinner beneath its abundant foilage on the second floor where I met a young woman from Syracuse who has made several trips to this tiny paradise. She and her partner have become captivated by the beauty and quiet that engulfs the area along with the clouds. While we were eating and talking it began to rain, but broad leaves and branches of the tree kept us sheltered and dry the entire time.
The bat jungle was another amazing discovery. I learned more about bats in the hour and a half presentation than I have ever known. After hearing about them and their habits, you begin to understand what remarkable creatures they are. Indeed, what an amazing and interconnected planet we have on our hands. I only hope that we can begin to learn how precious and fragile it is and work a lot harder to make sure that the balance between humans and the planet doesn't tilt too far in the direction of the humans.
If it does we lose!
Since the trip to Monteverde I have concentrated heavily on studies, though I took a couple of little trips. One was to Grecia, less than an hour by public bus to the north of San Jose. There I saw the most amazing insect and snake preserves I've ever seen). Also a little two-day trip to Cahuita, a tiny little community along the Caribbean coast where I was able to snorkle (though not scuba because of the national preserve there) and where I actually petted a shark who was nestled in among the coral about ten feet down and who didn't seem to mind us getting up close and personal.
If the trip to Costa Rica has done nothing else, it has reminded me again of the necessity of ecological concern. Costa Rica is such a tiny place, the entire country not even as large as Yellowstone Park in the U.S., but a place teeming with a variety of life and beauty.
But then, anywhere you go, in the US, in the oceans, in any place you might choose to visit on the earth, you cannot help but be reminded, if you are at all conscious and observant,of the variety, the stark beauty, and the absolute wonder of life.
I hope I never lose the excitement of discovery - of people, places, ideas, etc. If I ever decide to be complacent or satisfied; ifdiscover myself to be cynical or uncaring; it will be time to shut me away in that little six by six by three room and call it finished.
This will be my last post from Costa Rica.
I arrive back 'home' in just three days. But who knows for how long?
And the adventure continues!
Now that I've seen the clouds from both sides, it's time to think about the next phase of the journey.
Vaya con Dios, mis amigos. Hasta tan pronto!
(Go with God, my friends. Until very soon!)
Still learning, still growing, still discovering, still living!
