Emergency Committee, El Rodeo
Remember that huge landslide a couple of years back? Remember all the El Rodeo people getting stuck in the muck trying to cross over the abyss on their way to work/school in Ciudad Colon? One neighbor sank up to her shoulders in the muck, handing her baby up to bystanders who rushed to help. Our construction workers wore huge plastic bags over their boots and legs to wade through the mud, determined to get to work…
Well, the road is still a mess. Soon after the landslide, a group of neighbors formed a committee to get work started on the road. It has been a long, steady haul for some dedicated people, but it looks like, after two years and a lot of meetings, involving the mayor and a whole parade of public officials, work is about to begin on Monday. As always, the issue comes down to money and, with municipality coffers nearly empty due to the construction slow down, they need donations to finish the road. We are raising funds to get the job done right, once and for all. Can you kick in a hundred dollars or so? Please contact me as soon as possible if you would like to contribute towards our road works. Someone from UPAZ has generously offered to handle the admin on roadwork donations. We all need the road open to Ciudad Colon! Even the most reclusive people need to get out for supplies now and then.
Meanwhile, Teniente (lieutenant - but everyone calls him ‘Capitan’) Azucar, from the Mora Police Department, has been meeting with a small group of villagers, on Tuesdays in the Village Hall, to discuss a wide range of community security issues, and is now helping us to set up an Emergency Committee for our village and environs. After the recent forest fire, I realized that we are living a fragile, precarious existence on a forested mountainside in Costa Rica. Over the past 3 years, our area has suffered fires and landslides, and we can only expect more emergencies in the future, including even the terrifying possibility of an earthquake - a big one! Thus, we decided to be proactive, rather than reacting to the next event, and form an emergency team of people living in the community, ready to act.
Our first task is to invite everyone in the village to join a telephone network, so that they can receive immediate information in the event of an emergency. Anyone in El Rodeo reading this who has not yet been contacted, please e-mail me if you wish to be part of this network. Over the next several weeks, we plan to work on emergency protocols, resources, etc. A key aspect of this is to have direct contact with professionals: police, Red Cross, MINAET, fire fighters, etc. Thank you.
Newsflash: The Little Theatre Group is presenting ‘Twelfth Night’ (Yes! It’s Shakespeare) on weekends all this month at the Salon Garbo Theatre. See www.littletheatregroup.org for details/reservations. Get on out and support your local thespians!
It was worth every bite!
Gerry took this shot on Sunday, two days after the root canal. It looked even worse before, ghastly. I appear much better in the picture, but still very much as Gerry now likes to call me: his wife, ‘The Hamster’…
The tooth started to ache last Thursday, so I called our dentist to have it sorted out the next day. The receptionist told me that she could fit me in the same day at lunchtime. Unfortunately, however, that wouldn’t do. I had a lunch date! Didn’t she have anything on Friday or even the following Monday?
Why would I not go to the dentist right away given the chance? Because we had been invited, that same day, to the lovely garden home, adjoining Braulio Carrillo forest, all the way across the valley, of some dear friends, Robert Whittington and Phylliss Crist. They are both culinary artists of the highest degree, and dining with them is always a memorable event. Couldn’t Dr. Gil see me tomorrow?
Lucas Gil’s receptionist responded in the usual, sweet, Costa Rican way and insisted…
“I can get you in today at 12:15. You have an aching tooth. You need to get in here.”
Luckily, Phylliss was able to organize a delay to the lunch until 2pm. Thank you Phylliss!
I got to the appointment and barely got seated, when Dr. Gil came in and banged on the tooth with some metal instrument. “Does that hurt?” He asked?
“Yes.” I replied, while inside my body, I howled, “OOOUUUUUCH, …!”
A quick glance at the chart and Dr. Gil reminded me of a chat we had several months ago. I remembered it well. He had to do a deep filling, and in choosing a treatment plan, advised me that the root only had a 50/50 chance of surviving the filling. I was feeling invincible back then - never say die, keep innervating for as long as possible. What is health, but clinging to the back of the Titanic - staying alive as along as possible. Well, it turned out that I was on the wrong side of the 50%. The root died and began to decay, causing my jaw to ache. I needed a root canal.
Could Dr. Gil do it the following day, I asked, brightening at the prospect of arriving at Phylliss’s in time for the first course! No, Dr. Gil doesn’t do root canals. But he would refer me to a specialist for the next day, Friday.
Delighted, we left the dentist’s office and began the beautiful drive up to Braulio. On arrival, we were introduced to our dining companions, and then spent a lovely afternoon, dining, imbibing and enjoying good conversation with fascinating people. As always, I learned several new things, including solvents and distillation techniques for extracting citronella essential oil; and even how to make sour dough bread. Phylliss gave me a starter for sour dough to add to my growing bacterial collection - for yoghurt, cheese, etc.!
Andrew showed us incredible photographs of birds from all over Costa Rica: the Resplendent Quetzal; hummingbirds in full flight, feeding on - hey, isn’t that bird hovering over that invasive plant Justicia aurea? Well, at least the hummers love it! No wonder it escapes all the gardens!
We spoke at length about New Orleans. Did you know that there are more restaurants open today in New Orleans than before the Storm? The city is just as vibrant as ever, despite the lousy economy. Fun New Orleans Fact: The inquisition came to New Orleans and New Orleans sent the inquisition packing!
Phylliss and Robert are spending a few days in the Big Easy in September, with Larry and Dorothy Boone. Sadly, we will miss them there, as we arrive in town later, but we did have plenty of restaurant suggestions, including our favorite, August, the flagship of should-be Iron Chef, John Besh. I just wish we could enjoy the Vieux Carre with them! Dorothy and Phylliss are both very dear to me, like older sisters; they had a huge impact in my life at a time when I needed it! We worked together as volunteers, and I learned much from them: courage, honor, loyalty, grace under fire, compassion - anger management… and lots of laughter and fun times… I believe I became a better person, though still hopelessly flawed, by aspiring to be more like them. And we met other fascinating women along the way…
It was a leisurely, culinary, delightful afternoon that wound up at twilight. And then, as we drove back home off the Braulio mountain, I could feel the tooth starting to throb…
The infection flared up overnight. I couldn’t sleep for the pain, and could feel my whole face on one side puffing up. I woke up on Friday morning looking like a hamster eating, and feeling just horrible. However, even so, even while groaning in the depths of misery, it was still worth every bite of that wonderful lunch. The tooth would have flared up anyway, right?
So, we hightailed it to my appointment with endodontist, Dra. Ana Lucia Perez Clare, M.Sc. (Baylor College of Dentistry), at Cima Hospital. She quickly reassured me that, even though I was shocked at what was happening (and how I looked…), she saw cases like mine every day. She said, “It’s my work. We are going to fix this.”
And she did. Thank you Doctora Lucy!
It’s not fair. I’m diligent about dental hygiene but still end up with the toothache, whereas GRAK is far more neglectful but doesn’t suffer half the problems. He goes to the dentist every ten years or so, whether he needs to or not…
By the way, it’s true that you can get excellent healthcare for a fraction of the cost in Costa Rica.
Spotty and Grandpa died.
Photo from 2007, shortly before Samantha was killed by a Terciopelo.
Armando holds Samantha - a poodle/pekinese mix with a killer hunter instinct, and Armando Jose holds Samantha’s offspring, Spotty (not an inspired, creative name to be sure but, at least, descriptive...). Spotty inherited Samantha’s hunting instinct and it was only a matter of time before she ate the wrong thing and followed her mother to an early grave. Sure enough, very sadly, Spot died of liver failure a short while ago, on August 23rd.
Years ago, back in Ciudad Colon, Samantha surprised us by delivering two pups on the bathroom floor. The father was a mut living down the road. Spotty was the second born, and it appeared that Samantha had abandoned her after birth. She wouldn’t even chew off the umbilical cord. She just groomed her first born, Dillan, and ignored poor Spotty who just kind of dangled there by the cord. I went to the internet to figure out what to do, and there learned about using dental floss to tie and cut the cord. But then it took another hour or so before the tiny Spotty could open her mouth and feed. She couldn’t, just didn’t have the strength. I was at the desk, crying. I called Beth and she called a dog expert and the dog expert said that some new born pups just die. We were going to lose her. Suddenly, Janet ran in and said that she had got Spotty to feed. Thus, she survived and thrived, looking every inch like her father, the mut living down the street. Sammy was promptly neutered, so we would have no further surprises…
Spotty died peacefully and Jose helped me bury her out back. And yes, like everybody else, as well as feeling sorrow, also feeling no small degree of relief. Spotty was such a ‘necia’- barking all the time at nothing! Such sweet solace there is now here, silence. Gerry used to mutter at Spotty all the time, “She’s such a coward”! She used to bark at something and attract the other dogs, and then skulk off leaving the other dogs to face the poor beleaguered bufo toad, for example. Luckily, nobody touches the toads - dogs vomit up anything that doesn’t suit them. And like humans, dogs are pretty much one trial learners, if they survive the lesson.
The day after we buried Spotty, Grandpa died peacefully in Florida. Mom and Cy were with him. We had already posted a card with a daily “Hi Grandpa” greeting, to help keep his mood up while convalescing from congestive heart failure. However, his lungs got too congested, he needed too much Lasix and his heart just gave out. But Grandpa had a very fine run on this planet. We loved him so very much. Grandpa was healthy right up until the end. As mom said, he used to take fewer medications, and had fewer health problems than most people half his age. We used to joke with him that he would outlive us all! I still treasure those summers with him and Grandma at the lake. And, yes Grandpa, you were right, I was too young to go to the Grosse Lake Rock Concert Festival.
We cannot say thank you enough to dearest mom and Cy, who took care of Grandpa and Grandma with total dedication over so many years. In fact, it has been four years since they last visited Costa Rica, because they didn’t want to leave Grandpa alone for even one day.
Janet’s girls, Karla and Geovanna have grown up in those 4 years. Take a look at this shot of Geovanna and Karla, with Eddie the Beagle.
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The girls have grown up but still can’t wait for mom and Abuelo Cy to come visit again. Nobody reads stories to the kids like Abuelo Cy! And he will find new kids eager to sit down with him for story hour: Armando Jose, Amanda and Bayron.
Here’s a shot of Marcia with Danny and his very fast growing hermanito, Bayron.
Everyone is doing well and, after a lot of training, all the domestic animals wander together in relative harmony - dogs, cats, chickens, and now, Lola the cow, join the horses when they go out to pasture. We’ve managed to control the biting insects this season after many years of trial and error. It’s a strange El Nino season of less rain and, thankfully, less bugs! However, Flopsy has a torselo in his hind leg, but raises such a yelping howl that he won’t let us squeeze it out of him.
I trot the dogs daily down the public road in order for them (and me?) to blow off steam. We keep moving to keep them out of mischief. If I want to botanize or birdwatch, I leave all the dogs at home, except Flopsy of course. Flopsy never strays from my side and doesn’t harm anything, not even a nestling fallen from the nest. He does kind of look at me first, “Is it okay if I just sniff at the little bird?” Flopsy is my constant companion.
Here’s a shot I took of a pair of hummingbird nestlings.
Birds are such amazing camouflage artists! I never would have even seen the nest, hidden well amongst the palm leafs, had a gusty wind not blown one of the lowest palm leafs way up almost vertical, and I could see the nestlings hunkered down in there and holding on. I took the shot quickly - when no curious dogs or cats were around to see what I was doing, and then I stayed away from the nest and watched it from afar. The parents would not feed the nestlings if they saw me watching. The fledglings grew up and flew away safely, despite being raised in a most vulnerable spot, just off the ground and very close to the terrace, where numerous dogs and cats lounge for much of the day. But none of them had the slightest clue.
Nature never ceases to amaze me.
Meanwhile, on the home front, Janet discovered a line of ants leading up the outside wall to a tiny hole into the utility room. You can build a fortress against insects but they shall simply invade you from within - up the drains or through gaps into crawl spaces between the walls. No matter how clean you keep the house, one dead moth on the floor will attract the clean-up squad - tiny ants which just seem to appear from nowhere. We make them run with squirts of vinegar or borax. But lately, I’m beginning to rethink my approach to ants. Rather than adversaries, I’m beginning to think of them as friends. They clean up after us. They dismantle the moth and take it away. Army ants are welcomed as natural fumigators. And we maintain a laissez-faire or ‘without harm’ principle to all species, as advocated by my tropical nature mentor, Alexander Skutch. However, the forest is one thing and the house is quite another, and tiny ‘sugar’ ants will settle in the house if given the chance.
And if you tolerate one species in the house, next thing you know, you’ve got monkeys swimming in the pool! It’s a continuous lesson, keeping the insects out, harmonizing with the forest, and doing no harm. It all comes back again to good housekeeping.
Here’s a shot of Janet and her helper, Laura, dusting down the library.
Laura is raising money to return to University in Nicaragua, where she studies Civil Engineering. Remember all the odd jobs you did while at school, trying to make ends meet (or, at least, to buy a bottle of wine…)?
Since the economy has gone to hell, I’ve been thinking of new ways to save money at the grocery store, and am having lots of fun learning new things in the kitchen. Apart from drinking it, we also use Lola’s milk to produce both yoghurt and cheese. The starters keep getting better the more we practice with them.
Margarita and Janet have helped me experiment with orange preserves. We tried several recipes, until finding a Seville Orange Marmalade recipe, which we only use as a rough guide, adapting it to our own citrus fruits, both sweet and sour, growing at Reserva El Tigre. My first attempts produced truly nasty concoctions. I recall taking one bitter-tasting jam down to the forest for burial, where even the chickens couldn’t get poisoned by it. The next try ended up too syrupy, but had an interesting, intense flavor. I added alcohol to it and produced a perfectly drinkable liqueur (much to GRAK’s delight). Tomorrow, we shall try another batch. I think that we’ve now got the sugar balance right for this crop of oranges, we know the right amount of seeds to make the pectin, and how much of the white pith to remove to avoid a bitter taste. And then it’s just experiment after experiment.
There is no greater pleasure than orange preserve spread on sourdough toast!
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