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Aloooooooha!

After four months of traveling Costa Rica and the mysterious, untraveled parts of Ponca City (LOL), I am in nesting mode.  Trent and I spend many of our evenings and weekends cuddled on the couch watching movies and hanging out with our pups. Euphimastically said in the least, we are also very boring and introverted so removing ourselves from our quaint island home is quite difficult :)  But seriously, no other glamorous external circumstance competes with the tenderness and love that radiates from my heart, inspired by my continual journey:  my Present. 

This year has been a challenge.  Three very powerful men died in my life starting from my grandfather, followed by Tenton's father and then my own dad.  The emotional rollercoaster that seemed to be giving me nonstop rides was relentless but necessary. Coming up on the finish, Trent and I decided to exit the park and go abroad for peace, serenity and an escape.  In our defense, running away from feelings or digging out when times get tough is instinctual- no one wants to feel pain.  However, the idea that happiness, success, serenity is off in the distant future, inhabiting a middle-sized, second-world country is ignorance at its finest.  What can I say- I am human and suffer from a self-inflicted condition of chronic suffering steming from my own desires and expectations.  My grand plans of "future fun time" are totally normal yet replaceable by ideas of "present fun time".  I am happy to say, I am starting to chisel my way through inherent human consciousness and get to the meat of the fruit: super consciouness. With a little help from spiritual texts, teachers and yoga of course, I am starting to really understand the beauty of the Now and its enveloping wholeness. Therefore, by spiritual demand, I am changing my course and treking a new track in unchartered territory: my Present.  Fasten your seat belt, this is going to be a wonderful ride.                                                                                                                    

Okla-my-homa

Howdy y’all!

Long time no share.  We have been in Oklahoma for over two weeks and not for the tiniest moment have I had time to write.  We have been working sun up–to-sun down.  That is seriously my new favorite saying. I have been texting my friends that redundantly as an excuse for the lack of communication and explanation on my job.  I was saving it for this post.

When we first arrived here, it was our expectation to immediately start working.  We were very excited at the thought, as we both had been beach bums far too long.  The inherent need of feeling productive and a contributor in today’s world was enveloping my existence and directing my attention to Craigslist jobs and random household chores.  I would have paid someone to let me dust his/her home or clean the bathroom.  The monotony of doing nothing and reminding myself I was on vacation was boring me.  I was ready for some physical work.  That’s exactly what I got.

Upon arriving here, Sally (Trenton’s step-mom), anticipated on hiring us as property managers for their family’s ranch (The Big V Ranch) and to help in the garden. To serve the Big V justice, I must at least note that the “quaint” ranch is a large home built in 1893 and situated on 1,000 acres that is registered as a historic home in the Department of Interior.  The gorgeous national landmark is popular among brides-to-be and ranch tour companies for it’s cultural significance and beautiful restoration that was completed in 2008.  It is breathtakingly beautiful and HUGE; the third floor sleeps fourteen people!  It was truly a blessing to land in such accommodations.

In exchange for staying on the ranch, we were scheduled to work on the farm and help in the garden; however, we arrived days prior to a blizzard so there wasn’t too much farming to do.  A week went by without steady work until Trent’s "kind of" uncle (Sally’s brother-in-law) approached us one evening with an amazing opportunity that couldn’t come at a better time.  It turned out that one of his clients was looking for a couple to live on his farm, take care of his livestock, and work for his business: a wildcat breeding facility called A1savannahs.  Check it out- www.a1savannahs.com. 

The business is ran by a Swiss man and his wife who seem to be great people.  We interviewed with the husband, Martin, a week or so ago and it went great; we got the job. The opportunity to work with animals, work on a farm, have a free place to stay, earn a steady paycheck, and work with cool people was right up our alley; most importantly, it was necessary for our sanity. We needed to work. We needed to do something physical. Even though we had been frequenting the renowned YMCA of Ponca City, a more laborious effort was desired than forty minutes of cardio on the treadmill at a 5.5 pace.  We all gotta start back somewhere.

We just completed week one of the new job and it was great.  We are taking care of kittens, Savannahs, Servals, Bobcats and livestock every day.  The “taking care” simplification involves feeding, cleaning, medicating, changing litter boxes, etc… It is a dirty job, but it is worth it.  I love working with animals way more than humans.  I am excited to see them every morning and not because of their repetitious gossip/small talk that I can grinningly bear with morning coffee, but because of their cute faces, honest eyes and soft meows that seem to speak to my heart.  Even though we are working long, hard days, and with cats when I am naturally a dog person, I really love my job.  I believe I am just an animal person.

Meow,

Jamie

Bikinis to Boots

The day has arrived. We are leaving Santa Teresa and are Oklahoma Bound.  That's right: Oklahoma!

We never would have thought the next chapter in our book would be titled, "Ponca City, Oklahoma", but that's what an adventure is all about. We are leaving San Jose tomorrow, stopping in Atlanta for a few days to see the family, and then headed to work on a ranch. I couldn't be more excited.

Costa Rica has been a great learning experience.  I learned how to drive a moped (kind of), enhanced my Spanish, helped Justin and Jenny out with the baby, practiced yoga underneath an amazing teacher and received cheap dental work. Trenton had the pleasure of witnessing the birth of Sayta, surfed a whole bunch, spent quality time with Justin, discovered he was a natural at spearfishing, and read numerous books that had nothing to do with spirituality, philosophy or religion.  The latter was a real treat for him.  He spent many days behind a book inviting no interruptions except for the occasional bathroom break. He would be on page 60 in the morning and come sunset he would be on page 360.  It was incredible.  However the most important lesson we have learned is that, when traveling, we need certain spiritual and community support to maintain our way of life, and that Costa Rica was not conducive with that lifestyle. Therefore, instead of trying to appease our pride and tough it out, we reached out our hand for help, put the energy into the universe, and voila, an opportunity to work on a Ranch in an area that offered that support appeared from thin air.   Truly by God's grace are we allowed such an opportunity that has been provided. Blessings such as these validate my belief that there is a bigger plan for us and everything will be just fine as long as I quit exerting my self will and leave it up to Him.

Currently, I am sitting on a bench outside our hotel room reflecting while I am writing this post, and listening to howler monkeys wake up the fellow patrons.  I am happy I was here.  I am happy to be leaving.  I am happy I am have the opportunity to go somewhere new with the man I love. Life is good.

Bye y'all!

Jamie

One fish, two fish, three fish, SPEAR FISH!

This whole post is dedicated to my sweetheart, Bear Grylls.  There is nothing more attractive than a man that can protect and provide for his lady in the wild.  That’s exactly what I have: my very own Bear Grylls but even better, I have Trenton!!! :)

Trenton has picked up a new hobby; however, the pastime date backs to mans’ primitive days. Upon leaving Hawaii, Trenton picked up some spear fishing equipment for him and Justin to do together while in Costa Rica.  Naturally, I was a little bit frustrated at his impulsive decision because we were trying to be smart financially, but I am so glad he did it.  He has a real knack for targeting and shooting those fish. 

He has been fishing the past week and there has not been a deathless day out at sea.  Embarrassingly enough for him, the first day he snagged a little reef fish but that was after a parrotfish got off the line.  Before he suited up and went out with Justin, I told him he better come back with fish or not come back at all (I was kidding of course), so it is hard for me not to feel guilty about that 2lb reef fish that was no longer swimming due to my man’s pride and my poor sense of humor. However, that little reef fish got Trenton wanting more and gave him the confidence he needed to keep on trying.  

I should back up a bit. Spear fishing is not as easy as it may sound. Not just anyone can pick up a spear gun and bring home dinner.   Jenny (Justin’s wife) and I really believed that we could go out there and get fish before the boys, but that was before I saw the bruised sternum Trenton has from loading the gun.  This is a tough sport that requires a lot of strength, or at least the guns Trenton bought.  Most importantly, the sport requires ocean stamina as you are swimming, holding your breath, fighting currents, and constantly on the watch for bigger predators as there is (hopefully) a trail of fish blood following your hunt. I like to think I could do it, but I am a sissy when it comes to the ocean. Please see “El Mar” for further reading on that.

Despite all of the challenges out at sea, Trenton has proved himself to be a natural. Yesterday he went out early in the morning and came back with a parrotfish. After cleaning it, he went out for more. After just a couple hours, he came back with 20lbs of parrotfish and amberjack fish.  He was a local celebrity around this place. Tourists on the beach were taking his picture, and while he was cleaning and cutting the fish (with much help from a Swedish Chef), everyone was standing around him in awe and admiration.  I couldn’t help but soak up some of the glory, as I was the famous fisherman’s lady. 

That night we made dinner for Justin and Jenny. We had parrotfish ceviche and homemade amberjack sushi rolls.  It was a great night at our friends' house.  Candles were lit; mood lighting was on, as well as mellow music, and good eating to be had. I couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear as I watched Trenton bask in his accomplishments amidst the tea burners.   I mainly smiled for him, but also for me, as I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Not because he is my best friend, my lover, an intellectual, an artist, but also a provider; he is truly the best catch of all. 

Gotta love mommas!

Good morning, Vietnam.  It has been awhile since I blogged due to a tedious task.  After much encouragement to submit my blog to a travel magazine or the like, I finally replied to a creative writer position here in Costa Rica.  I applied and had been corresponding with the editor back and forth and he was interested in my stuff and compensating me for future pieces.  It sounded like an ideal position- to get paid for exactly what I was already doing: traveling around Costa Rica and writing about it.  However, after a series of emails and samples I had to write for the publication, it was not a good fit.  My writing seemed to morph into someone else's and I wasn't feeling good about it. I was resentful, angry and exhausted from meeting the demands of this person who knew nothing about me or my style.  I was starting to look at writing as a chore rather than a way to communicate my whereabouts and wellbeing to my family and friends.  The man's criticism, although much appreciated, was quite cutting and had me curled over in tears doubting whether or not I had wasted four years in journalism school.  Luckily, I have a wonderful boyfriend who assured me that my writing was fine and the people who really mattered, loved it; and, I shouldn't let some stranger from one publication get me down.  As a result, I am chipper and back on the horn.  It feels good to be writing again. 

There have been so many changes that I do not know where to begin, hence the long introduction about my writing exploits. Have I mentioned there are a lot of critters here?  The days of fearing house spiders, snakes and possums are long gone, for I have a couple new nemeses in town: scorpions and tarantulas. I have seen both of the latter alive, in the darkness of the night and only feet away from my bed.

When we first arrived in Santa Teresa, Justin warned us about scorpions and I was quite unsettled to say the least.  Every night I did bed checks, cautiously went through my stuff in case one settled in between garments, and slept underneath the covers to avoid facial contact. Then, I finally saw one!  It was on the steps and Trent pointed it out as I was neurotically performing my nightly ritual.  It was so little! I laughed at the predator and myself for fearing such a helpless creature.  I could not believe that I worked myself up over nothing. With cocksureness, I went about my nightly compulsions less obsessively but merely habitually until that fateful evening when Trent called me into the bathroom to take a look at a ‘big scorpion’. Reluctantly, I walked over to the bathroom and waited outside while Trent teased me about where the creature was located. Upon entering, I begged Trent to tell me, and in defeat, Trent pointed to the light switch where the scorpion had made its home.  IT WAS HUGE.  It was about four inches long with an enormous tail.  I hurried out of there before the predator felt threatened enough to go after me, even if I was about five feet away.  I ran back inside and fearfully checked the whole house for scorpions. I was restless for the remainder of the evening and for about a week until I accepted I was living amongst God’s creations, all of his creations, under one roof and one piece of land. We were all getting along famously until I was face-to-face with the newest housemate:  a tarantula, a BIG tarantula.

It was around 6am when I stumbled out of my bed and over to the bathroom. Quite unconsciously, I checked out the bathroom’s perimeters for scorpions and wasps to ensure I had 30 seconds of peace.  Relieved at the sign of no stingers, claws or tails, I rested my bum on the priceless porcelain. My tired eyes wandered up the wall and to the shower’s adjacent wall when my eyes stopped for a double take.  There in plain view, about three feet away, was a big hairy tarantula.  The tarantula was as big as my hand.  Completely dumbfounded, I stared blankly at the mutant spider to register its existence.  I was hoping I was still dreaming, but unfortunately I was not. This thing was real and it was sharing the bathroom with me.  I quietly and calmly exited the bathroom and summoned Justin to have a look at my new friend, but the spider was gone.  It disappeared back into the dark abyss of the earth waiting for the day’s dusk.  My housemates remain unconvinced that the spider was as big as my whole hand and resolve to believe it was a much smaller tarantula we spied that evening.  However, it was not.  The momma tarantula is out there and it likes early morning showers.  I believe my bathing schedule will be changed to mid-day.

Happy bathing!

H2O on the go...

First impressions seem to saturate my recent posts as I have limited knowledge on this country and basically everything in life.  Looking in retrospect, everything I have seen, experienced, and perceived in Costa Rica has been superficial and somewhat skewed as I am naive tourist in the area, and on a larger scale, on this planet.

By no means am I a Costa Rica expert, however, I am starting to see and read between the lines; for instance, the water situation here. At first when I arrived, I thought the lack of water, or the water preservation was cute.  “Look at this remote, underdeveloped country with a lack of water…awe”. Now I realize there is nothing cute about it.  I didn’t really think it was cute; it just added to the whole living in a second world experience.  It was foreign and unknown to me and I would be lying if the whole lack of water hasn’t contributed to Costa Rica’s mystique.  See the superficiality in my disturbed perception?

The reason why water is so scarce right now is because it is dry season, which means there is absolutely no rain.  We definitely get the occasional water preservation notifications in the states; excess watering one’s green and lush lawn is strongly advised against as well as filling up the above ground pool so the kids can enjoy a nice summer day with friends. In Costa Rica, dry season means the roads are dusty, as well as the boarding landscape that appears antiqued with ground gravel; small farmers’ gardens are wilting and unable to produce without proper care and excess waterings; and, our property's well is tapped as our neighbors enjoy their 10-minute cold showers. We do not expect much more water, and as a result, we will be without the luxury and have to purchase water in town all while having fingers crossed that there will be enough water to be purchased.  Oh, and post script, I have not had a hot shower in almost a month.  The latter actually doesn't bother me, as it is too hot to indulge in a steamy oasis after a long day at the beach or a yoga session.  Quite the contrary, I find myself wanting to jump in the shower just to cool off from the day's relentless heat.

The water scarcity is a new thing for me.  It is a quite a shock that there are many places all over the world that treasure their water as Costa Ricans. Some countries do not even have running water.  Water, a life force, that constitutes about seventy percent of our bodies and seventy five percent of the planet's composition, is a luxury.  Just because we need it, doesn't mean we will always have it.  This realization puts things in perspective on just how lucky I am to have been born in a country where water was not a luxury- it was a given. Without it, how could I take my long hot showers in the morning, wash that perfect outfit I needed to wear that night (instead of choosing another one) or take an additional shower because my hair was not cooperating, so I needed to do it all over again?  These mindless acts were of not mal intent but inherent selfishness from living in a country that took care of its' own (theoretically), and not recognizing or responding to a global issue. I wonder how much water an average household uses each day in the United States.  I am sure there is a survey out there.  For some countries, that one household’s daily usage could supply a whole town and its neighboring villages.  It could at least supply our current property.

Apparently, Trenton informed me that water scarcity is now becoming a problem the United States because big businesses are buying up the supply.  As an attempt to discuss a solution, siphoning the salt from the ocean was put on the table.  I am sure science will one day be able to do this, if they haven't already and I am completely dating myself; however, if we take from the ocean, what happens to the world's largest ecosystem?  How ridiculously human of us to screw up our world, so instead of thinking ecologically or proactively to prevent further destruction, we come up with a great solution that only takes away from the animals, or the inferior species, as man is the most evolved of evolution. Garbage.  I am really not trying to be political here, as I was merely trying to explain an issue that was taking a new light. Really I am just hoping some type of divine intervention takes place and a man with a plan, or men with a plan, or a country with a plan, comes and saves all of us and performs some type of mass paradigm shift, or we are all headed straight down the crap shoot.  Now I am exhausted, so I will write later on a less political topic.  God bless the little people. 

It's cool to go slow...

There is definitely one thing I have learned about being in Costa Rica: I am a lot cooler here.  While Trenton and I had the quad, I felt "apart of" this country, this town, these people.  I really don't like to use the whole "us and them" generalization, but it's the best way I can describe my assimilation process in Santa Teresa/ Playa Hermosa.

Everyone here, or that lives here, drives a quad or some other type of off-road beast to get from point a- to -point b.  All the tourists or the other guys walk, take cabs, or rent ridiculously impractical vehicles.  The "Ticos" (Costa Ricans) or Costa Rican transplants all wear face masks, turbons, or the like to shield their nasal passages and airways from becoming dust collectors. All of the tourists just get covered in the dust while they watch their counterparts cruise down the road with little to no irritation.  It is clear who is native here and who hasn't a clue as to what's going on in this town.  Besides the obvious language barrier and skin tone, the mode of transportation is the leading indicator of who is a visitor to these parts. Thankfully, there are numerous places you can rent ATVs so the visitors can eventually catch on to the practicality of it versus a car, but it's only after a couple days of getting covered in dust and minor back pains from riding bikes or a vehicle that's not suitable for the roads. Therefore, if you are ever in Santa Teresa or Playa Hermosa, rent a quad! Period.  I felt so cool when we did.

Ah, the glory days of riding down the dirt, coastal road, sunglasses on and my turbon blowing in the wind all while driving brilliantly and speedy to my destination.  I really did not care where I was going, for I had already arrived when my butt was in the seat and turbon in tact.  As I drove down the road, fellow patrons would wave to me or flash a smile as a sign of their approval of me being on the roads. This is a complete opposite reaction from before when I would walk down the street. The only thing I received from other patrons was a 'side angle look' and dust or gravel rocks in my trek.  A kind of funny side note, when Trenton and I first arrived and witnessed this 'side angle look' from one of the motorcyclists, I was terrified the man was not looking at the road and was about to plow into us.  Now, I completely get the 'side angle look'; it's a way to avoid getting dust in the eyes.  It is actually quite wise; wisdom that could only come from living in this town.  Ah, I wish I invented the 'side angle look'.


Unfortunately, as they say, all good things must come to an end and yesterday at Pranamar, a yoga retreat, I dropped off the quad and kissed my coolness goodbye.  I know deep down in my heart that we shall get an ATV one of these days, for it's only a matter of time and/or a generous benefactor. Trenton thinks I am crazy for such optimism, but what can I say, I am a dreamer.

Furthermore, Pranamar is a yogi heaven!  I took a class with it's lead instructor, Nancy Goodfellow, and it was amazing.  I am always a bit skeptical about classes as I was quite spoiled in Honolulu at Yoga Hawaii.  However I must say, Nancy competes with the best of them. She opened class with yogi philosophy, pranayama (breath work), and meditation then followed by one of the more challenging yet satisfying classes I have ever epxerienced. The class was part of a series that focuses on the nine Rasa's ( sanskrit word for, essences of emotion) that can cause emotional disturbances as the result of elemental imbalance.  This class was focused on Fire which orginiates or stagnates in the lower abdomen and pelvic floor, or your root chakra. After many poses focused on that general region and a couple back bends, my back was on fire alright!  And after the the yoga class, since I was transportation-less, I had to hike back to the house.  Mind you the hike is not a pretty, scenic, peaceful walk; it is a dirty, rocky, steep climb!  We live on the biggest hill in the town. A nice lady from class offered me a ride home, but after I told her I lived up the hill she said, "oh, I am not going up that hill."  She had a truck.  I had two legs and one busted back, but I had no other options.  Trenton was sick in bed, and I knew the journey had to start.  The chinese proverb, "a journey of thousand miles begins with one step" was relentlessly racing through my head as I put one foot in front of the other for a like a billion times.  Sweaty, hot, beaten, tired, yet accomplished, I made my to our country retreat and retired indoors for the remainder of the day.    Since the hike isn't the easiest thing in the world after an intense yoga class, I concluded that I would take the moped to class in the morning.

I woke up at 6am so I could practice driving it before class.  After my morning coffee and meditation, I enthusiastically hopped on the moped and headed for the hill.  I was so enthusiastic that I ran off our drive way into a barbwire fence all while cranking the gas.  Something similar happened to me before, but I was waterskiing.  I couldn't get up but forgot to let go of the rope, so I was dragged behind the boat until I realized letting go is the only way to stop.  The barbwire fence was a similar situation.  Luckily it was early, and no one saw me. I picked up the moped and hopped back on the saddle.  At that point I was questioning my sanity. I just crashed the moped into a fence, and I haven't even made it out of the driveway yet; was I really about to attempt going down that hill all the way to the yoga studio?  As I mentioned in an earlier post, this whole Costa Rica adventure is a big opportunity to face my fears.  I used that logic and went for it.  Surprisingly, I made it to the class okay!  I felt as if I was worried over nothing.

I took class with Nancy again, and it was another beautiful session that was centered around the element of Air,  so there was a lot of ujjayi breath and upper body breathing. A short meditation class followed yoga, so I stayed and decided to get extra spiritual, or more like it, delay the inevitable of getting back on that moped;  even though subconscious,  the latter is probably the truth. Nancy led meditation with a mantra;  practitioners were to repeat the mantra out loud, soften to a whisper, and then finally silently repeating it in the mind. It was great!! Once the meditation class was over, I hesitated a bit to leave the studio and get on the moped.  However, again, I had no choice.  I was going to do this.  I started the thing up and was able make it back pretty safely.  Despite the huge obstacles disguised as rocks, the dust clouding my vision, and paranoia running through every vein in my body while driving 15 mph, I was able to calm myself and repeat a simple mantra: "It's cool to go slow".

Adios!