I slept until noon. After 14 days of running stairs -- like 20 flights per day and running up and down trails and up and down the stairs to and from the dentist's office, after bone jarring rides over bad roads being bounced around like a beebee in a boxcar. My body is sore and aches all over.
Ouch.
We took Phoebe to her favorite restaurant (she had a cheeseburger, thank you very much) and we're home.
My bathtub beckons -- I love baths - long, hot, steamy baths. I need to drive the car around to charge it up or whatever the heck it does, then I need to do some baking, then some more putzing. Then make dinner. Then I can take a bath and go to bed. All I want to do is sleep and unwind and destress.
Well, enough blogging for now - it's off to work so I can go back to work tomorrow (I can't wait to get back to the office!!)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Photos from the Plane
THIS is what happens when you put a bored idiot on an airplane for 2 1/2 hours with a digital camera.... I'll spare you the rest -- but you get the idea....
Finally Home
As much as I hate - really, really HATE The Wizard of Oz, I DO wish I had a pair of sparkly red shoes everyone was fighting over, because then I could have taken Doug by the hand, clicked my heels three times and said "there's no place like home, there's no place like home" and POOF, we would have been there (crap, have I just violated some copyright law? Do I have to pay some kind of royalty now?).
Into the house -- we both pause and look around; tired and a tad shell shocked. I must say, I am so bloody glad I cleaned the house before we left. It's sparkly clean, nice and cool and we're home - homehomehomehomehome. We drop our bags and walk around - everything is just fine. Oh, wait - what's that box? A package from Diane?!?! We open it up and I wish she were here - what a sweetie! Boxes and Boxes of Keebler Onion Toasted crackers (they don't sell them here), a wonderful votive candle holder that looks like coral and a bunch of environmental and diving magazines. Girl, you ROCK! PHOEBE!!!!
Out the door we go and hand in hand we walk to Jan's house. As we ring the doorbell we hear the dogs barking. Jan calls "come on in" and there they are - Phoebe and Lucky. 88 pounds of lumbering, loving beast knocks into me -- Phoebe, our girl and 5 pounds of beige fluff snuggles under Phoebe and now we're petting both squirming masses of doggy love. There's something about the feeling of warm fur, warm, living, loving fur under your hand - something elemental and calming - NOW we're truly home. God bless her soul -- Jan made chicken soup for us. After chatting for a while we fill our arms with dog bowls and dog treats and doggie toys, we juggle leashes and soup and head back home.
I admit it -- we were hungry and when we opened that pot of soup the glorious scents of carrots and chicken, onion and herbs wafted into our sinus cavities -- salivary glands respond and we pulled out spoons and jumped on that soup like Monkeys on a tray of cupcakes. Oh joy, oh bliss - home made soup. What a lovely kindness. What a truly thoughtful gesture. Oh Jan - thank you so much!
Well, I need to go to the market -- hop into my little Mustang ragtop, turn the key and - nothing. Do you hear me? Abso-freakin'-lutely NOTHING. It's dead. Back into the house, Doug hands me his keys and goes to charge the battery on my car. I drive down to WinnDixie and walk into the store. Grab a cart and head into the produce section. I stop and stare, it's wonderful - all the fruits and vegetables - the deli counter beckons - the bakery calls. I spend far too much time and money but bring home comfort foods for Doug -- potato bread and doughnuts. Chocolate milk and lunch meat. Mustard Potato Salad and fresh lettuce.
Back home - pop open a bottle of wine, pour a monster glass (with ice - I know, you're shudding in horror at iced wine - but it IS Florida) and go across the street to see Pat - my second Mom - one of my sounding boards and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Oh, Pat -- I've missed you so much. Sometimes you don't realize just how much you rely on someone, how often you see and speak to them and yes, how you often take their presence for granted until you can't reach them. I needed to see Pat.
After a lovely reunion I head back home and Doug looks p*a*l*e. His jaw hurts - he ate too much and chewed too much. It's about 8:30 and he's off to bed - our big, soft, comfy bed.
I start to putter. I'm exausted and my body aches but I'm puttering. The grandfather clock my dad gave my mom for their 25th Christmas has run down. That means getting it up and running - which entails pulling the weights then turning the hands in 15 minute increments and letting it chime until you get to the right time. It takes a while. More puttering. Finally I hit the bed around midnight.
Into the house -- we both pause and look around; tired and a tad shell shocked. I must say, I am so bloody glad I cleaned the house before we left. It's sparkly clean, nice and cool and we're home - homehomehomehomehome. We drop our bags and walk around - everything is just fine. Oh, wait - what's that box? A package from Diane?!?! We open it up and I wish she were here - what a sweetie! Boxes and Boxes of Keebler Onion Toasted crackers (they don't sell them here), a wonderful votive candle holder that looks like coral and a bunch of environmental and diving magazines. Girl, you ROCK! PHOEBE!!!!
Out the door we go and hand in hand we walk to Jan's house. As we ring the doorbell we hear the dogs barking. Jan calls "come on in" and there they are - Phoebe and Lucky. 88 pounds of lumbering, loving beast knocks into me -- Phoebe, our girl and 5 pounds of beige fluff snuggles under Phoebe and now we're petting both squirming masses of doggy love. There's something about the feeling of warm fur, warm, living, loving fur under your hand - something elemental and calming - NOW we're truly home. God bless her soul -- Jan made chicken soup for us. After chatting for a while we fill our arms with dog bowls and dog treats and doggie toys, we juggle leashes and soup and head back home.
I admit it -- we were hungry and when we opened that pot of soup the glorious scents of carrots and chicken, onion and herbs wafted into our sinus cavities -- salivary glands respond and we pulled out spoons and jumped on that soup like Monkeys on a tray of cupcakes. Oh joy, oh bliss - home made soup. What a lovely kindness. What a truly thoughtful gesture. Oh Jan - thank you so much!
Well, I need to go to the market -- hop into my little Mustang ragtop, turn the key and - nothing. Do you hear me? Abso-freakin'-lutely NOTHING. It's dead. Back into the house, Doug hands me his keys and goes to charge the battery on my car. I drive down to WinnDixie and walk into the store. Grab a cart and head into the produce section. I stop and stare, it's wonderful - all the fruits and vegetables - the deli counter beckons - the bakery calls. I spend far too much time and money but bring home comfort foods for Doug -- potato bread and doughnuts. Chocolate milk and lunch meat. Mustard Potato Salad and fresh lettuce.
Back home - pop open a bottle of wine, pour a monster glass (with ice - I know, you're shudding in horror at iced wine - but it IS Florida) and go across the street to see Pat - my second Mom - one of my sounding boards and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Oh, Pat -- I've missed you so much. Sometimes you don't realize just how much you rely on someone, how often you see and speak to them and yes, how you often take their presence for granted until you can't reach them. I needed to see Pat.
After a lovely reunion I head back home and Doug looks p*a*l*e. His jaw hurts - he ate too much and chewed too much. It's about 8:30 and he's off to bed - our big, soft, comfy bed.
I start to putter. I'm exausted and my body aches but I'm puttering. The grandfather clock my dad gave my mom for their 25th Christmas has run down. That means getting it up and running - which entails pulling the weights then turning the hands in 15 minute increments and letting it chime until you get to the right time. It takes a while. More puttering. Finally I hit the bed around midnight.
Saturday Morning
I'm awake - not that nice and easy awake - the jolt awake, awake. There is no clock in the bedroom - what time is it? Did the wake up call not happen? I bolt out of bed and look at the clock in the kitchen. It's 3AM. Do I go back to bed or stay up... stay up, just don't bother. Make coffee -- Manna of the Gods, I love coffee -- did I mention that - I LOVE COFFEE.
Get dressed, straighten up the room one more time - pull down the used towels and put them in a little pile -- drink coffee, pack up the rest of my stuff. Go out into the hallway to the stairway and see what the weather is doing - oh no, nanananananana naaaa na naaaa na - BAT MOTH! Swoops past my head and into the night. Apparently he lives here. 4AM - no wake up call -- wake Doug up -- 4:03 - wake up call comes in. Bring Doug coffee. Phone rings - driver is here -- crap, it's not 4:30 yet - hold on, we're coming, just a few minutes. Finish gathering up the towels, wash the coffee pot out - leave a tip for the housekeepers and out into the hallway we go -- and there he is -- Bat Moth -- sitting (is that the right word? Do moths sit?) on the floor outside our door - he's either saying goodbye or is a fame whore - looking for more exposure on the blog -- there, ya little bugger - here's another 15 minutes of fame for ya.
The drive to the airport is pretty quiet and soon enough we're there -- in the doors and to the right - get in line to pay the $26.00 per person departure tax, down to the AA counter and in line for that, oh wait - first we have to get past the departure tax police so we don't sneak out without paying the tax. Check in, down the hallway and in line for the security checkpoint. Get through that and now a line for breakfast.
A movement catches my eye -- a woman is waving her arms - no wait - so is Doug. Jeez, ya can't swing a dead cat without hitting someone from Ohio, can ya -- Doug and this woman aren't just waving their arms, they're spelling out O*H*I*O ala the Village People's YMCA dance. Dignified, so dignified. So, while we're waiting in line (at 5-flipping-o'clock-in-the-morning) for the $6.00 croissant sandwich and $5.00 french toast sticks - these two are chattering like magpies about the Buckeyes, Woody Hayes (give it rest guys - he's DEAD) and how wonderful it is to find someone from Ohio (yeah, go back to the dead cat comment, pahlease).
The flight finally boards and the plane is packed to the wings. Luckily, it's early - to the babies and kids are blissfully quiet. I forgot my glasses in my purse, which is packed in my carry on bag and tucked in the overhead. Boredom takes a seat right next to tired, tucked right between tired and punchy. Out of the computer bag comes the camera and I'm shooting pictures out the plane window. I'll post some -- boredom really does breed stupidity in me.
Miami Airport. They should just blow that place up and start over with some sense of logic. Off the plane and walk forever, for miles and miles, for eons to passport control, then walk for another three days to luggage (which we don't have)then tocustoms, out of customs - follow the green dots to the yellow dots, up the elevator to security -- I want to scream -- where o where do you think I could have picked up contraband between the plane and here? morons, idiots, adjectives scream in my head as I get into another line to take off my shoes and unpack my laptop and go through the whole process again - cripes. We get through this and now we wait and wait and wait -- three and half hours. Doug wants pizza - the closest thing they have to pizza (no disrespect truly intended here) is Pizza Hut. Miami Airport is a shambles - a mess - they should be ashamed of it. Miami Airport is boring, stone cold boring. I'm not even going to write about those long hours. Finally we get on the plane and 40 minutes later we get into Tampa.
Thank God for Mike -- he picked us up and drove us home...
Get dressed, straighten up the room one more time - pull down the used towels and put them in a little pile -- drink coffee, pack up the rest of my stuff. Go out into the hallway to the stairway and see what the weather is doing - oh no, nanananananana naaaa na naaaa na - BAT MOTH! Swoops past my head and into the night. Apparently he lives here. 4AM - no wake up call -- wake Doug up -- 4:03 - wake up call comes in. Bring Doug coffee. Phone rings - driver is here -- crap, it's not 4:30 yet - hold on, we're coming, just a few minutes. Finish gathering up the towels, wash the coffee pot out - leave a tip for the housekeepers and out into the hallway we go -- and there he is -- Bat Moth -- sitting (is that the right word? Do moths sit?) on the floor outside our door - he's either saying goodbye or is a fame whore - looking for more exposure on the blog -- there, ya little bugger - here's another 15 minutes of fame for ya.
The drive to the airport is pretty quiet and soon enough we're there -- in the doors and to the right - get in line to pay the $26.00 per person departure tax, down to the AA counter and in line for that, oh wait - first we have to get past the departure tax police so we don't sneak out without paying the tax. Check in, down the hallway and in line for the security checkpoint. Get through that and now a line for breakfast.
A movement catches my eye -- a woman is waving her arms - no wait - so is Doug. Jeez, ya can't swing a dead cat without hitting someone from Ohio, can ya -- Doug and this woman aren't just waving their arms, they're spelling out O*H*I*O ala the Village People's YMCA dance. Dignified, so dignified. So, while we're waiting in line (at 5-flipping-o'clock-in-the-morning) for the $6.00 croissant sandwich and $5.00 french toast sticks - these two are chattering like magpies about the Buckeyes, Woody Hayes (give it rest guys - he's DEAD) and how wonderful it is to find someone from Ohio (yeah, go back to the dead cat comment, pahlease).
The flight finally boards and the plane is packed to the wings. Luckily, it's early - to the babies and kids are blissfully quiet. I forgot my glasses in my purse, which is packed in my carry on bag and tucked in the overhead. Boredom takes a seat right next to tired, tucked right between tired and punchy. Out of the computer bag comes the camera and I'm shooting pictures out the plane window. I'll post some -- boredom really does breed stupidity in me.
Miami Airport. They should just blow that place up and start over with some sense of logic. Off the plane and walk forever, for miles and miles, for eons to passport control, then walk for another three days to luggage (which we don't have)then tocustoms, out of customs - follow the green dots to the yellow dots, up the elevator to security -- I want to scream -- where o where do you think I could have picked up contraband between the plane and here? morons, idiots, adjectives scream in my head as I get into another line to take off my shoes and unpack my laptop and go through the whole process again - cripes. We get through this and now we wait and wait and wait -- three and half hours. Doug wants pizza - the closest thing they have to pizza (no disrespect truly intended here) is Pizza Hut. Miami Airport is a shambles - a mess - they should be ashamed of it. Miami Airport is boring, stone cold boring. I'm not even going to write about those long hours. Finally we get on the plane and 40 minutes later we get into Tampa.
Thank God for Mike -- he picked us up and drove us home...
Friday, June 18, 2010
It's 8PM - Time for Bed - 4AM comes early!
Well, it's our last night here -- dinner for Doug consisted of:
1/4 Chocolate Cake, with chocolate icing
1 Can Peaches
1/2 Quart Vanilla Ice Cream
and I'm not sure what else - we're cleaning out the fridge.
Since I have a milk allergy, that left me out of the "sugar rush" and since we have no butter - forget the boxed stuffing (thankfully) and since I cannot, absolutely cannot face one more scrambled egg (which would had to have been nuked) forget that. I had some crackers, until the 'greasy' quotient got to me.
Hopefully, after we get up at 4AM (OMG, 4AM - the horror - I HATE morning and truly believe that God does not want us to rise before the sun does) and get to the airport, pay our exit tax, check in with American Airlines, go through security - IF I'm not arrested for terminal bitchiness, hopefully there will be coffee and breakfast on the horizon.
I know - you're thinking why didn't you just go out to eat and toss all that crap. Well, the oh so infamous italian restaurant didn't open until 7PM tonight - by the time we got back, it would have been too late -- they feature nice, civilized, slower paced service. It was pouring out -- no way could we walk any place. Grab a cab you say and find a restaurant? That's a whole different bag of worms we didn't want to delve into on our last night.
Funny thing -- I have mixed emotions about this departure. I really, really want to go home - I want my dog, I want my bed, my sofa and my kitchen. I want my friends. I want to go back to work.
I also wanted a few days with Doug, alone. I wanted a couple of days where we could relax and just enjoy each other.
I guess I'm just selfish - I wanted it all.
Thankfully, Doug is doing well and we'll be home - things will go back to 'normal' and maybe next year or the year after we can take a couple of days and embrace "Pura Vida" - no matter where that may be.
Well, I'll update you all tomorrow - but probably not until we hit the states and the home internet. Can't hardly wait to see what the dawn has in store for us.
Buenos Noches Todos!!
1/4 Chocolate Cake, with chocolate icing
1 Can Peaches
1/2 Quart Vanilla Ice Cream
and I'm not sure what else - we're cleaning out the fridge.
Since I have a milk allergy, that left me out of the "sugar rush" and since we have no butter - forget the boxed stuffing (thankfully) and since I cannot, absolutely cannot face one more scrambled egg (which would had to have been nuked) forget that. I had some crackers, until the 'greasy' quotient got to me.
Hopefully, after we get up at 4AM (OMG, 4AM - the horror - I HATE morning and truly believe that God does not want us to rise before the sun does) and get to the airport, pay our exit tax, check in with American Airlines, go through security - IF I'm not arrested for terminal bitchiness, hopefully there will be coffee and breakfast on the horizon.
I know - you're thinking why didn't you just go out to eat and toss all that crap. Well, the oh so infamous italian restaurant didn't open until 7PM tonight - by the time we got back, it would have been too late -- they feature nice, civilized, slower paced service. It was pouring out -- no way could we walk any place. Grab a cab you say and find a restaurant? That's a whole different bag of worms we didn't want to delve into on our last night.
Funny thing -- I have mixed emotions about this departure. I really, really want to go home - I want my dog, I want my bed, my sofa and my kitchen. I want my friends. I want to go back to work.
I also wanted a few days with Doug, alone. I wanted a couple of days where we could relax and just enjoy each other.
I guess I'm just selfish - I wanted it all.
Thankfully, Doug is doing well and we'll be home - things will go back to 'normal' and maybe next year or the year after we can take a couple of days and embrace "Pura Vida" - no matter where that may be.
Well, I'll update you all tomorrow - but probably not until we hit the states and the home internet. Can't hardly wait to see what the dawn has in store for us.
Buenos Noches Todos!!
I Ate A Trout
I took my own advice and "opened my palate and my mind" -- our driver loves cream soup. It was lunchtime. We asked for his opinion on a place to go while heading back down the mountain. He took us to a restaurant famous for its Trout. They catch them here, in this lake. He thinks their cream soup is the best in the world.
I've never eaten Trout before, but hey - "when in Rome....." They had Trout cooked like a million different ways so I picked one and hoped for the best.
I should have taken a picture, I know, I know. Out came a plate with a lovely mound of white rice, a small salad (YAYAY SALAD!!!!) and half a small fish (sans head, thank you very much) covered in a white wine, mushroom, cream sauce with almonds.
Did I mention I'm not big on fish? I don't like fishy fish. I like shrimp, lobster, some mahi and swordfish - flaky fish, not fishy fish. I had NO clue.
Did it have bones? Was there skin and scales under that sauce???? Who knew!?!?! Oh the adventure of it all....
I took my fork and took a nibble -- oh YUMMO -- flaky, not fishy at all -- ew, skin underneath - don't eat it - so I did what I always do with new things -- I played with it -- little nibbles and bits, until Doug said -- are you having fun. I looked up and there were the two of them - grinning at me. Apparently taking teeny tiny little nibbles and bits while examing the skin and meat and texture is funny.
Lunch was good. Freshwater Trout is good. I tried something new. Ha.
Coming Down from Acid Lake
Coming down a mountain sounds so much easier than going up one, doesn't it. I thought so too (so did everyone else, except our guide - HE knows better). While Doug shows us his Charlie Chaplin walk I discover a whole new set of muscles and tendons I had forgotten existed while living in flat Florida.
I was feeling old until a girl walking UP the mountain managed to wheeze out "can you believe I'm only 20?" Ah, yes -- it ain't just me!
People heading up kept asking -- how much farther and is it worth it. We based our answers on their general condition (I know, judgmental, but who wants someone to have a heart attack!)
Photos going up the mountain to the volcano
See the guy with the HUGE cows?? He stands there all day long awaiting unsuspecting tourists with their tour guides to stop and shoot pictures -- then your driver tells you he would like a dollar - so we happily pass out a 500 Colone coin and continue up the mountain...
Doug says I need to post pictures of that church
Truly magnificent - from the 1800's and you can see it from miles away!
Pictures of the Acid Lake
So, if it's an acid lake -- how come it doesn't eat through the earths crust and put out the lava......
Why Oh Why Does Anyone Listen to ME???
So, we've gotten to the Volcano, seen the crater, harassed the poor hummingbirds, taken pictures of the green squirrel and start the long loooonnnnggg trek back down the mountain. Oh, Wait -- Whereever could THAT path lead I ponder aloud ---- Jacob says it goes up to the "dead crater, with the lake in it" ---- GEE, doesn't THAT sound fun. Yeah, we should do THAT too. OOOHHH, spooky trail - let's DO IT. Oh, sure, it'll take 20 minutes of hiking, but hey - how bad can it be. Can YOU say IDIOT?
Six minutes up the trail and I'm pantin' like a pony at the end of the preakness. Slyly I stop to snap photos of oh so interesting moss - like I'm fooling anybody - there's NO AIR up here. We continue to hike and stop, hike and stop and oh, what's that sound??? Thunder, you say? In Costa Rica in rainy season?? Naw, couldn't be. Oh joy, Oh bliss -- upward and now with STAIRS -- am I gonna cry Uncle and say screw it - nope, not me because I - apparently - don't have the common sense God gave a grasshopper.
We made it -- yup, itza lake. An acid lake we're told - nothing lives in it or on it or around it. Just a big ol' acid lake. Photos on next page..... because I want YOU to feel the same excitement we did hikin' up the freakin' mountain.
The Green Squirrel
He's green!! A tint, a tinge - but he is seriously green. I don't know if he's moldy or not, but he's green.
Sigh, I chased that little bugger all over the place trying to get decent shots. Once again, I amuse the locals......
Pictures of the Big Hole, er, Crater
Yup, there it is -- the crater at Poa. When we arrived at the Park and got out of the van, the air smelled so fresh - so clean - it was amazing. When we got to the crater you could smell a bit of sulpher -- as the clouds rolled in from the Caribbean, bringing that leaden feeling the sulpher scent got trapped -- yup, it's a sulpher lake all right....
Friday morning - we arrive at Poa Volcano
Well, we went to the breakfast buffet - had sauteed Yucca, sigh, scrambled eggs, black beans and rice and some Mango along with some green juice -- yeah, you read it -- green -- kind of a pale, mossy green -- Kiwi?? who knows...
Said farewell to Theresa (we think) telling her we'd be back (we think), if nothing else, I'm fairly certain we gave the onlookers some chuckles.
Doug says he has a "sharp point" that's cutting into his cheek -- back to the dentist. We were one of the first ones in so they took him right away --- yay. Back to the van and we're off to Poa Volcano with Jacob (the man of very little english).
Jummmmmppppiin Jimminy Crickets -- talk about Mr. Toad's Wild Ride ---- wending and winding our way up a mountain on a 1 1/2 lane road -- I'm sorry --- if those roads are two lanes then I'm Marilyn Monroe (before she died, thank you very much). Apparently guard rails don't exist in Costa Rica and from where I was sitting, it looked like we were going to fall off the mountain - constantly. Twisting, turning, stopping, giving way for trucks, buses and vans -- whoo weee, whatta ride.
Ah, we're at the Poa Volcano Park -- entry fee for Touristas? C5,000 each, Local? C1,000 and Parking? C2,000 total US = 26.00. Ya think they'd have a golf cart or two! ;-)
As we're walking up to the crater, along a lovely path lined with Umbrella plants and impossibly massive ferns I heard a noise, a funny little noise, like fairy wings madly flapping. I stopped and listened then turned to my right. Peeking through the foliage I see moss covered rocks with tree root tendrils hanging down and water dripping down the face and along the roots. Fairies? Not quite -- it seems that hummingbirds were using this as a showering station - they were clinging to the moss covered rock, flapping their wings then flitting to the roots to shake and preen. I felt like I had just been given the most amazing gift and was privy to an amazing little secret. I pulled my camera out of my purse and began shooting - it's a digital so hopefully I got a few good shots. The flash of the camera stopped one bright blue and green fellow -- he stopped, stared and took flight - straight at my face then gracefully veered to the right and flew off (I guess he told me). His friend did the same thing just a moment later. I feel kind of guilty and like a bit of a voyeur.....
We climbed to the top and there it was - the crater - big honkin' hole in the ground. At the bottom was a, well, a lake with steam coming off of it. Lots of steam, lots of sulpher - big hole - lottsa water - lottsa steam. It's a crater. Yep, that's it - that's an official water filled crater with steam...... I don't know what I was expecting -- maybe I've watched too much National Geographic with the shots of red lava rolling down to the sea in Hawaii. Took lots of pictures of the steamy, waterfilled hole. Who knows - maybe someday I'll be struck by the majesty and/or awesomeness of the whole thing - but not today.
Doug is hitting me over the head with an empty soap bottle as he reads this over my shoulder. He's saying "don't think I'll let you forget this when we go to the Grand Canyon" I said - what, another big hole in the ground - hey, you're the one that wants to see that. He says "yeah, but at least you can drive up to it and don't have to hike" bonk, bonkity bonk bonk on my head......
More in a bit.....
Said farewell to Theresa (we think) telling her we'd be back (we think), if nothing else, I'm fairly certain we gave the onlookers some chuckles.
Doug says he has a "sharp point" that's cutting into his cheek -- back to the dentist. We were one of the first ones in so they took him right away --- yay. Back to the van and we're off to Poa Volcano with Jacob (the man of very little english).
Jummmmmppppiin Jimminy Crickets -- talk about Mr. Toad's Wild Ride ---- wending and winding our way up a mountain on a 1 1/2 lane road -- I'm sorry --- if those roads are two lanes then I'm Marilyn Monroe (before she died, thank you very much). Apparently guard rails don't exist in Costa Rica and from where I was sitting, it looked like we were going to fall off the mountain - constantly. Twisting, turning, stopping, giving way for trucks, buses and vans -- whoo weee, whatta ride.
Ah, we're at the Poa Volcano Park -- entry fee for Touristas? C5,000 each, Local? C1,000 and Parking? C2,000 total US = 26.00. Ya think they'd have a golf cart or two! ;-)
As we're walking up to the crater, along a lovely path lined with Umbrella plants and impossibly massive ferns I heard a noise, a funny little noise, like fairy wings madly flapping. I stopped and listened then turned to my right. Peeking through the foliage I see moss covered rocks with tree root tendrils hanging down and water dripping down the face and along the roots. Fairies? Not quite -- it seems that hummingbirds were using this as a showering station - they were clinging to the moss covered rock, flapping their wings then flitting to the roots to shake and preen. I felt like I had just been given the most amazing gift and was privy to an amazing little secret. I pulled my camera out of my purse and began shooting - it's a digital so hopefully I got a few good shots. The flash of the camera stopped one bright blue and green fellow -- he stopped, stared and took flight - straight at my face then gracefully veered to the right and flew off (I guess he told me). His friend did the same thing just a moment later. I feel kind of guilty and like a bit of a voyeur.....
We climbed to the top and there it was - the crater - big honkin' hole in the ground. At the bottom was a, well, a lake with steam coming off of it. Lots of steam, lots of sulpher - big hole - lottsa water - lottsa steam. It's a crater. Yep, that's it - that's an official water filled crater with steam...... I don't know what I was expecting -- maybe I've watched too much National Geographic with the shots of red lava rolling down to the sea in Hawaii. Took lots of pictures of the steamy, waterfilled hole. Who knows - maybe someday I'll be struck by the majesty and/or awesomeness of the whole thing - but not today.
Doug is hitting me over the head with an empty soap bottle as he reads this over my shoulder. He's saying "don't think I'll let you forget this when we go to the Grand Canyon" I said - what, another big hole in the ground - hey, you're the one that wants to see that. He says "yeah, but at least you can drive up to it and don't have to hike" bonk, bonkity bonk bonk on my head......
More in a bit.....
Friday morning
It's about 7:30 AM. I've checked in at the office and things are blissfully quiet.
The day is stunning (mornings are pretty much always nice - then the clouds move in).
This time tomorrow we'll be on a plane heading to Miami and we can't wait. No dental appointment looms ahead of us (unless something goes wrong with the temps).
The swelling is going down on Doug's face.
I have an almost irresistable urge do Snoopy's bunny dance -- oh, come on -- you've seen it -- Snoopy dancing around in circles with bunnies -- his ears flying and waving behind him. It's pure joy or, as they say here, Pura Vida.
Drinking some Cafe Britt (if you're a coffee drinker, you'd love this stuff).
I have no idea what we're going to do for the next hours, but I do know it doesn't involve sitting in a dentist's office for hours on end.
Try to get to Poa Volcano before the clouds come in? Coffee tour? Walk in the National Park? Who knows, who cares - we're dentist free!!!
AND, this is the last day for the breakfast buffet -- I may never eat another scrambled egg as long as I live ("As God is my witness, I will never eat Scrambled Eggs Again)(deep apologies to Miz Scah-Lett)
The day is stunning (mornings are pretty much always nice - then the clouds move in).
This time tomorrow we'll be on a plane heading to Miami and we can't wait. No dental appointment looms ahead of us (unless something goes wrong with the temps).
The swelling is going down on Doug's face.
I have an almost irresistable urge do Snoopy's bunny dance -- oh, come on -- you've seen it -- Snoopy dancing around in circles with bunnies -- his ears flying and waving behind him. It's pure joy or, as they say here, Pura Vida.
Drinking some Cafe Britt (if you're a coffee drinker, you'd love this stuff).
I have no idea what we're going to do for the next hours, but I do know it doesn't involve sitting in a dentist's office for hours on end.
Try to get to Poa Volcano before the clouds come in? Coffee tour? Walk in the National Park? Who knows, who cares - we're dentist free!!!
AND, this is the last day for the breakfast buffet -- I may never eat another scrambled egg as long as I live ("As God is my witness, I will never eat Scrambled Eggs Again)(deep apologies to Miz Scah-Lett)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Some Miscellaneous Thoughts on Food
Food - I can be a food snob. I'm the first to admit it and sometimes drive myself crazy. I love really good food - I'm not talking about uber fancy, I'm talking about well made, well prepared, fresh ingredients -- clean food -- good flavors and balance. I also understand that different cultures see food differently. I know that when you travel you need to open your palate and your mind. I will admit here that sometimes that is difficult.
We've eaten at this lovely little Italian restaurant twice. The food is well prepared and pretty well balanced. I never want to eat there again. There, I've said it. Why? Because, for Italian food, it falls far short of the mark. It's nice, it's safe, it's the most bland version of Italian food I have ever eaten. I'm not sure that Oregano and Basil have crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Garlic? Yep, they have that. Pepper - you want pepper -- it isn't on the table - you have to ask and then they come over with the big pepper mill, impressive I suppose, but a bit over the top. Now here's the thing about travel. You will go places that have their OWN INTERPRETATION of other cultures food -- interpretations that take into consideration the palate of those who are native to the country. This restaurant is very well known here, very well received and reviewed and very successful. It would fail miserably in the US. I say this not as a complaint or slam but to remind you, remind us all -- open your palate and embrace the cuisine, be it local or local interpretations of other cultures.
Sodas (diners) and local resturants -- oh the joy, the bliss of looking at a menu with English subtitles (which can be quite amusing in and of themselves). Pick something - pick anything you remotely recognize and then dig in with the spirit of adventure -- you're someplace different, exotic perhaps. Enjoy it -- don't ask too much, try and figure it out. Take a picture of it and post it - maybe someone can help you figure it out later. Doug had the most delicious plate of Arroz con Pollo I have ever tasted -- it was far and away different than what we get stateside or have eaten anyplace else. Why? Because each culture, each country gives their own spin to a universally recognized dish.
Fast food - yeah, I know -- I'm stunned that people travel out of the US and find themselves in Subway or Burger King (we hit BK twice). It's going to be different than what you're used to - get over it -- palates are different and so are local customs. Let's just say BK in CR ain't BK in the USA. But that's okay, it's close enough to get you through the "I just want to eat something I recognize" moments we all experience.
There is a Chinese restaurant just up the road -- I am a Chinese food junkie. I love good Chinese food and this place has a wonderful reputation and the scents coming out of that kitchen make my mouth water. Doug, on the other hand, isn't fond of Chinese food and with all he's going through, I'm not even going to bring up the almost overwhelming desire I have to walk, nay, run into that place and pore over the menu. Who knows, maybe I should never go there - perhaps it's best that I just wonder if it tastes as good as it smells -- leave something to the imagination.
I've eaten things here I don't recognize and will probably never be able to identify.
I've eaten Plantains prepared in various ways, Yucca for breakfast, the local black bean and rice breakfast staple(YUMMO), thick slices of zucchini enrobed in egg for breakfast (oddly nice) and more fresh fruit than I can count.
Bakeries are HUGE here (not size, but number) -- I suppose that since most of the time the weather is very comfortable and cool the concept of a cup of coffe and a nosh is pretty common. You can always tell when you're closing in on a bakery -- you can smell the bread and pastry - a wonderful, mouthwatering scent that teases and calls to you. I wish I could just sit in one of these little storefronts, drink coffee and eat myself silly. What a way to go!
We've eaten at this lovely little Italian restaurant twice. The food is well prepared and pretty well balanced. I never want to eat there again. There, I've said it. Why? Because, for Italian food, it falls far short of the mark. It's nice, it's safe, it's the most bland version of Italian food I have ever eaten. I'm not sure that Oregano and Basil have crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Garlic? Yep, they have that. Pepper - you want pepper -- it isn't on the table - you have to ask and then they come over with the big pepper mill, impressive I suppose, but a bit over the top. Now here's the thing about travel. You will go places that have their OWN INTERPRETATION of other cultures food -- interpretations that take into consideration the palate of those who are native to the country. This restaurant is very well known here, very well received and reviewed and very successful. It would fail miserably in the US. I say this not as a complaint or slam but to remind you, remind us all -- open your palate and embrace the cuisine, be it local or local interpretations of other cultures.
Sodas (diners) and local resturants -- oh the joy, the bliss of looking at a menu with English subtitles (which can be quite amusing in and of themselves). Pick something - pick anything you remotely recognize and then dig in with the spirit of adventure -- you're someplace different, exotic perhaps. Enjoy it -- don't ask too much, try and figure it out. Take a picture of it and post it - maybe someone can help you figure it out later. Doug had the most delicious plate of Arroz con Pollo I have ever tasted -- it was far and away different than what we get stateside or have eaten anyplace else. Why? Because each culture, each country gives their own spin to a universally recognized dish.
Fast food - yeah, I know -- I'm stunned that people travel out of the US and find themselves in Subway or Burger King (we hit BK twice). It's going to be different than what you're used to - get over it -- palates are different and so are local customs. Let's just say BK in CR ain't BK in the USA. But that's okay, it's close enough to get you through the "I just want to eat something I recognize" moments we all experience.
There is a Chinese restaurant just up the road -- I am a Chinese food junkie. I love good Chinese food and this place has a wonderful reputation and the scents coming out of that kitchen make my mouth water. Doug, on the other hand, isn't fond of Chinese food and with all he's going through, I'm not even going to bring up the almost overwhelming desire I have to walk, nay, run into that place and pore over the menu. Who knows, maybe I should never go there - perhaps it's best that I just wonder if it tastes as good as it smells -- leave something to the imagination.
I've eaten things here I don't recognize and will probably never be able to identify.
I've eaten Plantains prepared in various ways, Yucca for breakfast, the local black bean and rice breakfast staple(YUMMO), thick slices of zucchini enrobed in egg for breakfast (oddly nice) and more fresh fruit than I can count.
Bakeries are HUGE here (not size, but number) -- I suppose that since most of the time the weather is very comfortable and cool the concept of a cup of coffe and a nosh is pretty common. You can always tell when you're closing in on a bakery -- you can smell the bread and pastry - a wonderful, mouthwatering scent that teases and calls to you. I wish I could just sit in one of these little storefronts, drink coffee and eat myself silly. What a way to go!
The People Here
We came to this beautiful country, with few language skills, for medical treatment. We did so two years ago as well.
Let me tell you something -- the people of Costa Rica have made all the difference in the world. I'm not talking about the people in the tourist areas - the ones who are paid to be nice to you. I'm talking about the people you see every day.
Like the men who drove us around.
Sergio -- a man probably in his 50's who knows, maybe in his 60's. His English is very broken and after saying hello he let us know that he can speak some English but doesn't really understand it when someone speaks it to him. I get it totally -- I can speak more Spanish than I can understand. I think it's the speed that native speakers use. It's just too much too fast. He's charming, I think he was a heartbreaker when he was young. Heck, I bet he could still break a few hearts.
Ramon -- Mr. Pura Vida himself. His English is better than others and he tries to answer Doug's questions - questions that would be better suited to people being well versed in the same language. "Pura Vida", Ramon uses it a lot - and for a lot of things. Here is a link to the "definition". http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pura+vida (I tried to insert a link, maybe it'll show up when I publish this, but if not - just copy and paste)
Anyway, Ramon took us for a drive on Wednesday afternoon. Up into the area where he lives. Talk about stunning and beautiful -- coffee plants line some of the roads -- seriously, caffeine at your fingertips -- absolute heaven. Lush, green vistas with parrots calling overhead. Traffic on winding roads enough to scare the living tar out of you. A village with a church built in the early 1800's. So big you can see it from downtown San Jose. Up close the church needs help and my fingers itched to get to the stained glass windows and repair and restore them. Broken panes, cracked panes, panes replaced with clear glass painted to be similar to the stained glass. Leading needs replacement and polishing. But Oh My -- How beautiful this church is - even in its current state. Ramon is the one who took me to the cork tree (seriously, I want a cork tree in my yard).
Carlos -- geez, what can you say about Carlos -- he reminds me of your goofy little brother -- the one that always wants to hang around with you. He is a very nice man but I think the Americano's just kind of confuse him.
Jacob, you have to love Jacob -- shaves his head and smiles a lot. His English is pretty good and he seems to genuinely like everyone.
Oh sure, there was the one taxi driver who tried to drive us around in circles to get to Mas x Menes to pad the tab, but I think my "oh no he isn't" comment to Doug made him realize he should just get there.
Apartotel Staff:
Theresa -- she mans the breakfast buffet. She is one woman I would love to have the chance to chat with. Terminally (in a good way) cheerful -- she expressed surprise that we clean up after ourselves and helped her when she came out with yet another steaming tray of scrambled eggs. After a few days we exchanged names and she laughs at my sorry little attempts at Spanish, but laughs in that "aren't you sweet for trying" rather than that "you are so stupid" laugh. She asks about my espouso when he's not by my side. She's a lovely woman, inside and out and I deeply regret not knowing enough of the language to truly speak with her.
Roberta -- beautiful young woman at the front desk -- she's done a few currency exchanges for me, called a thousand taxi's for us and answered questions. Actually, everyone at the front desk has been wonderful and kind. They make sure they explain, each time we do a currency exchange, what they pay versus what the bank pays. They want to make sure we don't think we're being taken advantage of -- what a nice, refreshing change.
The housekeepers. We're pretty neat and pretty private - which means we put out the "No Moleste" sign and leave it there. Most days the women stop one us and ask if they can clean (at least, that's what we think they're saying) and we usually answer "no, gracias - manana". The other day Doug was sitting in the chair by the open door (cross ventilation, you understand) while I was at the stove. One of the women asked the daily question, Doug looked up and answered in English -- she asked something in Spanish - he answered in English. I piped up with "Gracias, esta bien" Poof - her head pops in around the door with a beautiful smile and a spate of Spanish that sent my head spinning. I smiled back and said "Lo Siento, mi Espanol is mal pero, esta bien y manana?" She smiled back, laughed a bit and left. I guess I didn't offend her and made her understand. I think I know how frustrating it is for little children just learning to communicate feel. It's frustrating.
I could go on for hours about the people here - the people at the Soda (diner) who were so kind, the policia with no english at all who tried to help, the shop keepers. All regular people, not the ones paid to deal with tourists. The people of Costa Rica are amazing - it would be nice if we could all be a bit more like them.
Except for the construction guy across from the dentist's office who was peeing on the side of the building - that was just gross.
Let me tell you something -- the people of Costa Rica have made all the difference in the world. I'm not talking about the people in the tourist areas - the ones who are paid to be nice to you. I'm talking about the people you see every day.
Like the men who drove us around.
Sergio -- a man probably in his 50's who knows, maybe in his 60's. His English is very broken and after saying hello he let us know that he can speak some English but doesn't really understand it when someone speaks it to him. I get it totally -- I can speak more Spanish than I can understand. I think it's the speed that native speakers use. It's just too much too fast. He's charming, I think he was a heartbreaker when he was young. Heck, I bet he could still break a few hearts.
Ramon -- Mr. Pura Vida himself. His English is better than others and he tries to answer Doug's questions - questions that would be better suited to people being well versed in the same language. "Pura Vida", Ramon uses it a lot - and for a lot of things. Here is a link to the "definition". http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pura+vida (I tried to insert a link, maybe it'll show up when I publish this, but if not - just copy and paste)
Anyway, Ramon took us for a drive on Wednesday afternoon. Up into the area where he lives. Talk about stunning and beautiful -- coffee plants line some of the roads -- seriously, caffeine at your fingertips -- absolute heaven. Lush, green vistas with parrots calling overhead. Traffic on winding roads enough to scare the living tar out of you. A village with a church built in the early 1800's. So big you can see it from downtown San Jose. Up close the church needs help and my fingers itched to get to the stained glass windows and repair and restore them. Broken panes, cracked panes, panes replaced with clear glass painted to be similar to the stained glass. Leading needs replacement and polishing. But Oh My -- How beautiful this church is - even in its current state. Ramon is the one who took me to the cork tree (seriously, I want a cork tree in my yard).
Carlos -- geez, what can you say about Carlos -- he reminds me of your goofy little brother -- the one that always wants to hang around with you. He is a very nice man but I think the Americano's just kind of confuse him.
Jacob, you have to love Jacob -- shaves his head and smiles a lot. His English is pretty good and he seems to genuinely like everyone.
Oh sure, there was the one taxi driver who tried to drive us around in circles to get to Mas x Menes to pad the tab, but I think my "oh no he isn't" comment to Doug made him realize he should just get there.
Apartotel Staff:
Theresa -- she mans the breakfast buffet. She is one woman I would love to have the chance to chat with. Terminally (in a good way) cheerful -- she expressed surprise that we clean up after ourselves and helped her when she came out with yet another steaming tray of scrambled eggs. After a few days we exchanged names and she laughs at my sorry little attempts at Spanish, but laughs in that "aren't you sweet for trying" rather than that "you are so stupid" laugh. She asks about my espouso when he's not by my side. She's a lovely woman, inside and out and I deeply regret not knowing enough of the language to truly speak with her.
Roberta -- beautiful young woman at the front desk -- she's done a few currency exchanges for me, called a thousand taxi's for us and answered questions. Actually, everyone at the front desk has been wonderful and kind. They make sure they explain, each time we do a currency exchange, what they pay versus what the bank pays. They want to make sure we don't think we're being taken advantage of -- what a nice, refreshing change.
The housekeepers. We're pretty neat and pretty private - which means we put out the "No Moleste" sign and leave it there. Most days the women stop one us and ask if they can clean (at least, that's what we think they're saying) and we usually answer "no, gracias - manana". The other day Doug was sitting in the chair by the open door (cross ventilation, you understand) while I was at the stove. One of the women asked the daily question, Doug looked up and answered in English -- she asked something in Spanish - he answered in English. I piped up with "Gracias, esta bien" Poof - her head pops in around the door with a beautiful smile and a spate of Spanish that sent my head spinning. I smiled back and said "Lo Siento, mi Espanol is mal pero, esta bien y manana?" She smiled back, laughed a bit and left. I guess I didn't offend her and made her understand. I think I know how frustrating it is for little children just learning to communicate feel. It's frustrating.
I could go on for hours about the people here - the people at the Soda (diner) who were so kind, the policia with no english at all who tried to help, the shop keepers. All regular people, not the ones paid to deal with tourists. The people of Costa Rica are amazing - it would be nice if we could all be a bit more like them.
Except for the construction guy across from the dentist's office who was peeing on the side of the building - that was just gross.
Thursday night
Doug had to go back to the dentist at 4PM, we got home from the dentist at 11:30 AM. They tried to place his temps. back in this morning so when we got back to our "little piece of heaven" Doug wanted some food -- soft food -- back with another round of PANCAKES -- boxed mix, naturally -- used it all up along with the last of the "real butter" and most of the "half butter" (someday, I'm going to find out what half butter is).
I loaded up a plate and handed it to him. Poor Doug, poor poor Doug -- he took one bite - one mouthful and the next thing I know I see teeth bouncing across the floor. The temps failed again -- remember, these would have been used for a very short time, for crowns that would have been installed already. That's why we're going back later.
I picked up the teeth and wrapped them in a napkin. "Luckily" for us, we have an appointment later.
I heated up something I had made -- actually, it was a mish mash of leftovers -- nuked the crap out of it. Four bites later and I felt like crap. I don't know if it's becuase I am tired of food from jars and cans (and so is my system) or if it was being tired and being stressed, but I felt awful -- this time I went and laid down. Went to sleep pondering whether I should get up and go toss my cookies or not. Awoke just in time to freshen up and hop in a cab back to the dentist.
Three hours later (yeah, you're reading it right) three hours later he's done for now. New "permanent temps" (hmmm, maybe I need to add that to the list of oxymorons - whaddaya think) are in place and the doctor says he can eat normally. Yeah, right - poor guy is sitting there with an ice hand on his face. Did I forget to mention the ice hands? The dentist gives patients rubber gloves full of frozen water -- actually a brilliant idea.
Dinner tonight? Doug had a can (can you believe I'm giving my husband CANNED CHICKEN SOUP????) of chicken noodle soup - he has a couple of things of yogurt, a bit of chocolate pudding and some (sigh) canned fruit left to nibble on.
Me? There are a couple of cans of beer left in the fridge and some vodka and OJ -- i think i may just have a liquid dinner and be done with the whole thing. Yeah, nutritious and delicious.
Tomorrow is Friday -- if nothing goes wrong at the breakfast buffet (Lord help me, I am so sick of scrambled eggs) he can bypass yet another trip to the dentist. Maybe, just maybe we'll go see a volcano - but with it being rainy season and all, there's a pretty good shot that all we'll see are clouds. Who knows, we'll just wing it.
I loaded up a plate and handed it to him. Poor Doug, poor poor Doug -- he took one bite - one mouthful and the next thing I know I see teeth bouncing across the floor. The temps failed again -- remember, these would have been used for a very short time, for crowns that would have been installed already. That's why we're going back later.
I picked up the teeth and wrapped them in a napkin. "Luckily" for us, we have an appointment later.
I heated up something I had made -- actually, it was a mish mash of leftovers -- nuked the crap out of it. Four bites later and I felt like crap. I don't know if it's becuase I am tired of food from jars and cans (and so is my system) or if it was being tired and being stressed, but I felt awful -- this time I went and laid down. Went to sleep pondering whether I should get up and go toss my cookies or not. Awoke just in time to freshen up and hop in a cab back to the dentist.
Three hours later (yeah, you're reading it right) three hours later he's done for now. New "permanent temps" (hmmm, maybe I need to add that to the list of oxymorons - whaddaya think) are in place and the doctor says he can eat normally. Yeah, right - poor guy is sitting there with an ice hand on his face. Did I forget to mention the ice hands? The dentist gives patients rubber gloves full of frozen water -- actually a brilliant idea.
Dinner tonight? Doug had a can (can you believe I'm giving my husband CANNED CHICKEN SOUP????) of chicken noodle soup - he has a couple of things of yogurt, a bit of chocolate pudding and some (sigh) canned fruit left to nibble on.
Me? There are a couple of cans of beer left in the fridge and some vodka and OJ -- i think i may just have a liquid dinner and be done with the whole thing. Yeah, nutritious and delicious.
Tomorrow is Friday -- if nothing goes wrong at the breakfast buffet (Lord help me, I am so sick of scrambled eggs) he can bypass yet another trip to the dentist. Maybe, just maybe we'll go see a volcano - but with it being rainy season and all, there's a pretty good shot that all we'll see are clouds. Who knows, we'll just wing it.
Thursday morning
Wednesday was a pretty bad day for Doug, at least patience wise. He's sick and tired of being sick and tired. The bed is uncomfortable and the walls are closing in. The four bone grafts are still very painful and he has some temps. that just refuse to stay in place. He's NOT a happy man. He wants a cigar. Wants his bed. Wants his dog. Wants my real cooking.
I cannot believe that we're both in a spot where we just want to go home - don't want to be here anymore.
The constant visits to the dentist are grinding on our nerves -- oh, certainly, his more than mine, but grinding none the less.
Today's dental schedule? Take impressions for the final temps before we head stateside for a few months for healing, then they need to check the stitches, check the bone and socket grafts. That's today. Then there's tomorrow. Then there's the whole flight home.
I cannot believe that we're both in a spot where we just want to go home - don't want to be here anymore.
The constant visits to the dentist are grinding on our nerves -- oh, certainly, his more than mine, but grinding none the less.
Today's dental schedule? Take impressions for the final temps before we head stateside for a few months for healing, then they need to check the stitches, check the bone and socket grafts. That's today. Then there's tomorrow. Then there's the whole flight home.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The Boredom is getting to us both....
boredboredboredbored.....we're both bored, bored out of our gourds.
It rained all day.
Excitement consisted of trying to cobble something together from what we have in the fridge using the very limited tools we have......
tired of being on the internet --- have you noticed how many posts I've put up here today???
bored, bored of white walls and white floors and white blinds......
i don't do "nothing" well and it's getting to me...............
if it weren't rude, i might just scream to alleviate the boredom for a minute.....
have you ever gotten so bored it actually gets funny? we got there today........
punch drunk boredom -- we hit that wall and slid down it.......
almost looking forward to another trip to the dentist tomorrow........
dougs boredom level matches mine --- luckily we're not one of those couples who turns to bickering to get through it -- we just laugh at each other as we each hit new and stupid ways to kill a minute or two.....
bored bored bored......
if he turns on fox news one more time - i will scream. ah, that's better, thank you honey.
oh, look - commercials, in spanish -- you should see the one where they put faces on fruit and vanilla beans then toss them - screaming - into a blender -- oh yum - THAT makes me want to go buy their product.... i'm really glad i don't know what they're saying......
i ran out of books -- and there is no place to get more, in english..... Doug is feeling the lack of reading material as well -- his comment? I've about crapped my way through the Reader's Digest - now what?
It rained all day.
Excitement consisted of trying to cobble something together from what we have in the fridge using the very limited tools we have......
tired of being on the internet --- have you noticed how many posts I've put up here today???
bored, bored of white walls and white floors and white blinds......
i don't do "nothing" well and it's getting to me...............
if it weren't rude, i might just scream to alleviate the boredom for a minute.....
have you ever gotten so bored it actually gets funny? we got there today........
punch drunk boredom -- we hit that wall and slid down it.......
almost looking forward to another trip to the dentist tomorrow........
dougs boredom level matches mine --- luckily we're not one of those couples who turns to bickering to get through it -- we just laugh at each other as we each hit new and stupid ways to kill a minute or two.....
bored bored bored......
if he turns on fox news one more time - i will scream. ah, that's better, thank you honey.
oh, look - commercials, in spanish -- you should see the one where they put faces on fruit and vanilla beans then toss them - screaming - into a blender -- oh yum - THAT makes me want to go buy their product.... i'm really glad i don't know what they're saying......
i ran out of books -- and there is no place to get more, in english..... Doug is feeling the lack of reading material as well -- his comment? I've about crapped my way through the Reader's Digest - now what?
I Made Lunch...
Well, after the dentist and going through emails both work and personal, flicking through the TV dial, making the bed and pacing like a caged Tiger, Doug finally wanted lunch.
Hmmmm, lunch, with a mouth full of stitches...... pancakes, we settled on pancakes.
When you stay in one of these apartment/hotel rooms they supply the basics - a couple of pots, a pan or two, 3 forks, 4 spoons, 4 knives. One bread knife, one long knife that really can't cut butter, a can opener, spatula, salad set. Some plates and cups and that's it. Seriously. No measuring cups or spoons, no corkscrew (okay, I am now officially a fan of boxed wine), no whisks, no spice rack. IWANTMYKITCHEN. sorry about that.
We have boxed pancake mix, ugh.... boxed pancake mix.... I'm using boxed pancake mix. horror of horrors.... b o x e d p a n c a k e m i x....
No measuring implements -- wing it. I can only thank God that most of my cooking is done sans measuring - I've developed a pretty good eye.
Out came the "half butter" --- don't ask, I don't know - it's not butter and it's not margarine and it doesn't ask like lard or anything else I've ever dealt with. First batch of pancakes in the trash... speaking of that --- IWANTMYDOG -- yes, Phoebe would have happily munched on those pancakes.
Batch two - much better -- THEREISNOCOUNTERSPACE -- gave Doug his pancakes and started some more -- no griddle, small pan means small pancakes. Used "real butter" for the pan, much better. Used the "half butter" on the pancakes.
Doug came "in" the kitchen for more - holy cow - now there is no room at all to move, then he started laughing --- hahaha - yeah, just like Ralph and Alice Cramden...hahaha, great - it's much funnier on TV....
Can't wait to see what we're going to do about dinner, but dinnertime will take YEARS to get here.
Hmmmm, lunch, with a mouth full of stitches...... pancakes, we settled on pancakes.
When you stay in one of these apartment/hotel rooms they supply the basics - a couple of pots, a pan or two, 3 forks, 4 spoons, 4 knives. One bread knife, one long knife that really can't cut butter, a can opener, spatula, salad set. Some plates and cups and that's it. Seriously. No measuring cups or spoons, no corkscrew (okay, I am now officially a fan of boxed wine), no whisks, no spice rack. IWANTMYKITCHEN. sorry about that.
We have boxed pancake mix, ugh.... boxed pancake mix.... I'm using boxed pancake mix. horror of horrors.... b o x e d p a n c a k e m i x....
No measuring implements -- wing it. I can only thank God that most of my cooking is done sans measuring - I've developed a pretty good eye.
Out came the "half butter" --- don't ask, I don't know - it's not butter and it's not margarine and it doesn't ask like lard or anything else I've ever dealt with. First batch of pancakes in the trash... speaking of that --- IWANTMYDOG -- yes, Phoebe would have happily munched on those pancakes.
Batch two - much better -- THEREISNOCOUNTERSPACE -- gave Doug his pancakes and started some more -- no griddle, small pan means small pancakes. Used "real butter" for the pan, much better. Used the "half butter" on the pancakes.
Doug came "in" the kitchen for more - holy cow - now there is no room at all to move, then he started laughing --- hahaha - yeah, just like Ralph and Alice Cramden...hahaha, great - it's much funnier on TV....
Can't wait to see what we're going to do about dinner, but dinnertime will take YEARS to get here.
Some Photos of our prison, er, room
So there you have it -- 450 square feet - for two weeks --- two looonnnnggggg weeks.
Bat Moth
Boredom messes with your head. It's a fact. Boredom makes you fairly stupid. It's my opinion.
Doug went to look at the mountains from the top of the building and came back down saying he saw a moth "the size of a bat". I suppose that under normal circumstances, during a normal vacation a huge moth might warrant a "oh, that's kind of cool" but when you're doing what we're doing it takes on a life of its own. It becomes something noteworthy, hence, the photos and this entry.
Aside from the lunacy of being enchanted by a moth I have to say this guy was beautiful. Well, back to work (yes, I am lucky enough to alleviate the boredom by remotely running the office back home from here).
Why do they call it a "Medical Vacation" Anyway??
Oxymorons -- interesting word, isn't it -- it rolls around the tongue and rattles around the brain. There are a lot of them out there:
good morning, jumbo shrimp, good government - just a few and now I have to add Medical Vacation to this list -- why? Here, let me tell you how these things go.
You have to have (or want to have) something done, but it's just too expensive in your country or your insurance doesn't cover it. You hear about medical vacations and the cost savings. You find out that the trip is tax deductible under certain circumstances (at least it is in the US).
You research and talk to the doctor's office. You reign in your fear and angst and make plane and hotel reservations and travel to a country you may have never been to. Not much fun yet, huh?
You arrive, find your hotel and settle in waiting for that first consultation. Then the work starts. There you are - hopefully not alone - in a foreign country, in pain, surrounded by people who don't speak your language. If you're not alone, your partner finds the pharmacia and hopes they speak English and that what they're giving you is okay. Foods are different, time zones mess with your circadian rhythms, you don't feel well enough to go explore this country you're in and in the back of your head is that little voice -- the one that keeps questioning your sanity for doing this in the first place.
You go to the doctor multiple times a day - cramming as much work as possible into a short time frame. You go back to your hotel with ice packs and anti-inflammatories. If it's dental you're pretty much eating oatmeal, yogurt, pudding, ice cream and soup - oh, yeah - I can just how much fun Doug is having.
See what I mean?? Can someone, anyone at all, please explain to me where the "vacation" part is in all of this.
This is our second go around with a medical vacation and we're facing a third. I think I'll just call it a medical trip, because in no way, shape or form is this anything close to fun.
But and here is the big thing - when you find the right doctor and things work out, in the end it's all worth it - because you've gotten what you needed at a price that doesn't bankrupt you.
good morning, jumbo shrimp, good government - just a few and now I have to add Medical Vacation to this list -- why? Here, let me tell you how these things go.
You have to have (or want to have) something done, but it's just too expensive in your country or your insurance doesn't cover it. You hear about medical vacations and the cost savings. You find out that the trip is tax deductible under certain circumstances (at least it is in the US).
You research and talk to the doctor's office. You reign in your fear and angst and make plane and hotel reservations and travel to a country you may have never been to. Not much fun yet, huh?
You arrive, find your hotel and settle in waiting for that first consultation. Then the work starts. There you are - hopefully not alone - in a foreign country, in pain, surrounded by people who don't speak your language. If you're not alone, your partner finds the pharmacia and hopes they speak English and that what they're giving you is okay. Foods are different, time zones mess with your circadian rhythms, you don't feel well enough to go explore this country you're in and in the back of your head is that little voice -- the one that keeps questioning your sanity for doing this in the first place.
You go to the doctor multiple times a day - cramming as much work as possible into a short time frame. You go back to your hotel with ice packs and anti-inflammatories. If it's dental you're pretty much eating oatmeal, yogurt, pudding, ice cream and soup - oh, yeah - I can just how much fun Doug is having.
See what I mean?? Can someone, anyone at all, please explain to me where the "vacation" part is in all of this.
This is our second go around with a medical vacation and we're facing a third. I think I'll just call it a medical trip, because in no way, shape or form is this anything close to fun.
But and here is the big thing - when you find the right doctor and things work out, in the end it's all worth it - because you've gotten what you needed at a price that doesn't bankrupt you.
Tuesday - Dentist
Good Morning, it was back to the dentist at 9 for laser treatments to help the healing process and kill any bacteria roaming around - yup, I researched this too and we met with the doctor. Doug had some questions and by the time we were done talking, things were much more clear.
Doug didn't have two bone grafts -- he had FOUR -- all on the left side, no wonder his face is so swollen and he's in so much pain.
I've said this before - this doctor is conservative but I think I need to explain that a little more and this grafting situation is a very good example. Dr. Marco is a specialist in implants and has the sheepskin to prove it, he also stays on top of the technology - good and bad. He's one of those rare doctors who understands what it's like to be "on the other side of the chair", so to speak. This makes for a very kind, patient and understanding physician - a rarity from my experience. Two of the bone grafts were to fix damage deep in the jaw due to botched up root canals and the restulting infections that caused the bone loss. The other two were placed in the sockets where the broken teeth were (when the crowns broke off at the gum line).
He explained that there is always a chance for dry sockets when a tooth is removed. An extremely painful condition. It is his practice - every time a tooth is removed, he does a bone graft - could some look at this as overly cautious, sure they could but I don't. I see a man who understands that quite a few of his patients come to him from very far away and if something goes wrong, it's a long way back to his office for help. I see a man with decades of experience who believes it is best to do it the right way the first time (which is why we're going to have to come back down to complete the work).
Sure, I can some of you now -- you're thinking that perhaps we're being too trusting, being sold a bill of goods to charge us more money. Let me tell you a little something about me - I'm as cynical as the day is long. It's been my life experience that everyone has an angle. (In the past few years though, I have found some amazing people that are challenging my cynical views but that's a whole different blog.) I did a whole lot of research into this guy before Doug ever made that first phone call. I also did a bunch of research into this whole bone graft thing looking for trouble before it came to my door. Know what I found? This guy is spot on. Now the professional dental community is saying that bone grafting (socket grafting)should be done for every adult tooth that is removed - whether an implant is being done or not. Why? Because time has shown that empty sockets set the jaw up for further bone loss in the future. Dr. Marco told us he learned this in the States.
We're pretty much stuck here until Saturday. Dr. Marco wants laser treatments, follow up x-rays to check the grafts and hopefully the stitches will come out on Friday. He also wants to make some more temps. for Doug - ones that are a tad more comfortable and better fitting as the swelling recedes.
So this concludes todays trip to the dentist.....let the day drag on.
Doug didn't have two bone grafts -- he had FOUR -- all on the left side, no wonder his face is so swollen and he's in so much pain.
I've said this before - this doctor is conservative but I think I need to explain that a little more and this grafting situation is a very good example. Dr. Marco is a specialist in implants and has the sheepskin to prove it, he also stays on top of the technology - good and bad. He's one of those rare doctors who understands what it's like to be "on the other side of the chair", so to speak. This makes for a very kind, patient and understanding physician - a rarity from my experience. Two of the bone grafts were to fix damage deep in the jaw due to botched up root canals and the restulting infections that caused the bone loss. The other two were placed in the sockets where the broken teeth were (when the crowns broke off at the gum line).
He explained that there is always a chance for dry sockets when a tooth is removed. An extremely painful condition. It is his practice - every time a tooth is removed, he does a bone graft - could some look at this as overly cautious, sure they could but I don't. I see a man who understands that quite a few of his patients come to him from very far away and if something goes wrong, it's a long way back to his office for help. I see a man with decades of experience who believes it is best to do it the right way the first time (which is why we're going to have to come back down to complete the work).
Sure, I can some of you now -- you're thinking that perhaps we're being too trusting, being sold a bill of goods to charge us more money. Let me tell you a little something about me - I'm as cynical as the day is long. It's been my life experience that everyone has an angle. (In the past few years though, I have found some amazing people that are challenging my cynical views but that's a whole different blog.) I did a whole lot of research into this guy before Doug ever made that first phone call. I also did a bunch of research into this whole bone graft thing looking for trouble before it came to my door. Know what I found? This guy is spot on. Now the professional dental community is saying that bone grafting (socket grafting)should be done for every adult tooth that is removed - whether an implant is being done or not. Why? Because time has shown that empty sockets set the jaw up for further bone loss in the future. Dr. Marco told us he learned this in the States.
We're pretty much stuck here until Saturday. Dr. Marco wants laser treatments, follow up x-rays to check the grafts and hopefully the stitches will come out on Friday. He also wants to make some more temps. for Doug - ones that are a tad more comfortable and better fitting as the swelling recedes.
So this concludes todays trip to the dentist.....let the day drag on.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Monday - Week 2 - Bad News
Oh crap, crap, crap. Just when you think things are going swimmingly and you can see the light at the end of the tunnel - up pops a roadblock.
We went for our usual 9:00 AM appointment and Doug came out with that look on his face - you know the look - the one that says "we're screwed".
Because he had to have two bone grafts they cannot place the implants for 2-3 months. That means we're pretty much dead in the water here -- oh, Doug is calling the airline while I type this to see if we can switch flights, but that may end up costing us more $$$ than just sitting in this hotel for the week.
Crap, crap, crapola - I could just cry.. he's going to have to come back down here in the fall alone. His spanish is worse than mine, he doesn't know the money and I know darn well he won't take care of himself (being a hovering nag bordering on Banshee has its advantages when getting him to take meds and do the icky stuff to keep the infections away). Let's not forget his abject terror of flying - who's going to maneuver him onto the plane in the Xanax fog - what if he falls asleep in the terminal waiting for the flight (strong stuff, that Xanax) and he misses his plane..... shoot, I'm getting myself in a tizzy - I hate it when a plans falls apart.
I know, you're sitting there wondering why I don't just come back in the fall. Remember I told you about the people I work for? The wonderful ones? Well, they are wonderful - they have bent over backwards to make this happen for us. My vacation time is shot for the year and no way, no how would I ask them to advance me time for next year, let me take off and leave the Park for another week. It would fall into the category of taking advantage -- and ya just can't do that to anyone, especially to the really nice people.
Doug is making noises about waiting until after the first of the year -- that might work out -- but we'll have to talk to the dentist at tomorrow's appointment to see if the temps. will last that long.
Gotta think, gotta work out the angles and corners - make a plan.... think, think, think.......kick that OCD into hyper drive and figure this out.....
Jimminy Flippin' Crickets - where's the Tylenol.....
We went for our usual 9:00 AM appointment and Doug came out with that look on his face - you know the look - the one that says "we're screwed".
Because he had to have two bone grafts they cannot place the implants for 2-3 months. That means we're pretty much dead in the water here -- oh, Doug is calling the airline while I type this to see if we can switch flights, but that may end up costing us more $$$ than just sitting in this hotel for the week.
Crap, crap, crapola - I could just cry.. he's going to have to come back down here in the fall alone. His spanish is worse than mine, he doesn't know the money and I know darn well he won't take care of himself (being a hovering nag bordering on Banshee has its advantages when getting him to take meds and do the icky stuff to keep the infections away). Let's not forget his abject terror of flying - who's going to maneuver him onto the plane in the Xanax fog - what if he falls asleep in the terminal waiting for the flight (strong stuff, that Xanax) and he misses his plane..... shoot, I'm getting myself in a tizzy - I hate it when a plans falls apart.
I know, you're sitting there wondering why I don't just come back in the fall. Remember I told you about the people I work for? The wonderful ones? Well, they are wonderful - they have bent over backwards to make this happen for us. My vacation time is shot for the year and no way, no how would I ask them to advance me time for next year, let me take off and leave the Park for another week. It would fall into the category of taking advantage -- and ya just can't do that to anyone, especially to the really nice people.
Doug is making noises about waiting until after the first of the year -- that might work out -- but we'll have to talk to the dentist at tomorrow's appointment to see if the temps. will last that long.
Gotta think, gotta work out the angles and corners - make a plan.... think, think, think.......kick that OCD into hyper drive and figure this out.....
Jimminy Flippin' Crickets - where's the Tylenol.....
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Watching my fellow Americans...
We're staying at the Apartotel Christina in San Jose - this is one of places where business people go for extended stays and where families stay to save money because it has a kitchen. Ya know what that means? That means we're staying someplace where locals actually stay. It also means people watching is immensely satisfying.
We've been here a week now and Americans are going in and out as their dental work is done -- or they're being shipped off by their plastic surgeons to other "recovery resorts". We've met people from Florida, North Carolina and Texas - there are and have been others but we really never spoke. I am amazed, no flummoxed, no flabbergasted by some of the behaviors I've seen - and a bit ashamed to admit to being an American.
Like the lady who walked up as we were checking in -- she bullied her way in front of me, interrupted the conversation to ask where is Fox News on the television, I need it and you have to have it. Seriously lady - first, just who in the heck do you think you are? You can't wait your turn? Next, WHY do they have to have Fox News? Is there some kind of new international law I'm not aware of? Do you know what I wanted to say to you? I wanted to tell you to take your lazy ass back to your room - sit on the bed with the remote and find the blasted thing yourself -- let's face it - it ain't rocket science and there aren't that many channels. Instead, I smiled and kept my mouth shut - score one for manners.
Let's face it -- too many of us (me included) don't have command of more than one language. I fully intend to remedy that because I've met people here that I would have loved to have had conversations with, but more on that later. I'm talking now about those Americans who, when faced with someone who does not speak english (remember, we're in a spanish speaking country) displays some disdain and then goes on to repeat their comment/question in english but in a LOUDER voice. Okay people - let's get this straight once and for all - it's fairly funny when you see it done in the movies or on a sitcom but the simple truth is this -- yelling at someone is NOT, under any circumstance, going make them understand what you're trying to say. It just makes you look like an idiot - a loud, illmannered, illbred, ignorant idiot. Pick up a Spanish/English dictionary and/or phrase book and then READ IT, USE IT. I guarantee, 110%, that the people here will look more kindly upon you and will try to help you in any way they can.
The breakfast buffet and common courtesy. I wonder, almost daily, if some of these people left their manners and common sense at Customs when they entered the country. You're in another country, with a different culture and different dining habits and customs. If you can't bring yourself to embrace it and try something new, take your scrambled eggs and white toast to a table, sit down and eat them without insulting the culinary customs. Walking up to a chafing dish, screwing your face into a scowl and saying "eewww, ques es?" to the staff while pointing at one of the dishes is just plain rude. Certainly, wanting to know what you're shoving into your pie hole is perfectly natural and normal - but asking in such a way that is offensive - especially when you can clearly identify white rice and black beans - merely puts you in that "Ugly American" category. While I'm still on the breakfast buffet rant -- take a look around you while you're eating -- do you see the locals at surrounding tables. Do you notice what they do when they're done with their plates? They pick them up, scrape them off and put the plates at the end of the table. Why? because there is no waitress service at this little buffet - just one woman who is responsible for keeping the table clean, chafing dishes stocked, tables wiped down and undoubtedly a million other things we are not aware of. Hey, you have to walk right past that table to leave, so why not show some common courtesy and respect the local customs - pick up after yourself (oh wait, didn't our Mother's try and teach us that as we were growing up?) after all, this is free, gratis - on the house -- you don't get a bill and you don't leave a tip - so do what you'd do at a friends house - pick up your plate and clear your place.
I'm going to give you a clue, a hint, a tip --- take it and use it. Learn some basic words - just a few that will ease your way and show your hosts that you have at least a modicum of respect for them and their country.
Lo siento means "I'm sorry" -- example: Lo siento, I'm just a big bumbling idiot who should not have just knocked that handfull of towels out of your hands because I was too busy texting.
Con Permiso means "with your permission" -- example: Con Permiso, may I get past you to go down the stairs works much better than just shoving someone aside.
Gracias means "thank you" -- example: Gracias for taking such good care of me.
Con Mucho Gusto means "I'm very pleased" or "it is my pleasure" -- example: You finally picked up after yourself and the lovely woman behind the counter says "Gracias" - your response is "con mucho gusto" because, after all, you should be very pleased with yourself for being nice and polite.
There, I'm going to stop now because I realize that I could sit here and rant for hours on end. To any American traveling to any country -- bring your manners with you - not your everyday manners - bring the ones you save for Sundays or first meetings with the in-laws -- the big, bright shiny ones you pull out when you're trying to show someone how nice you are. Bring your very best manners because whether you realize it or not -- what you do and how you do it when you travel does have an impact on us all.
We've been here a week now and Americans are going in and out as their dental work is done -- or they're being shipped off by their plastic surgeons to other "recovery resorts". We've met people from Florida, North Carolina and Texas - there are and have been others but we really never spoke. I am amazed, no flummoxed, no flabbergasted by some of the behaviors I've seen - and a bit ashamed to admit to being an American.
Like the lady who walked up as we were checking in -- she bullied her way in front of me, interrupted the conversation to ask where is Fox News on the television, I need it and you have to have it. Seriously lady - first, just who in the heck do you think you are? You can't wait your turn? Next, WHY do they have to have Fox News? Is there some kind of new international law I'm not aware of? Do you know what I wanted to say to you? I wanted to tell you to take your lazy ass back to your room - sit on the bed with the remote and find the blasted thing yourself -- let's face it - it ain't rocket science and there aren't that many channels. Instead, I smiled and kept my mouth shut - score one for manners.
Let's face it -- too many of us (me included) don't have command of more than one language. I fully intend to remedy that because I've met people here that I would have loved to have had conversations with, but more on that later. I'm talking now about those Americans who, when faced with someone who does not speak english (remember, we're in a spanish speaking country) displays some disdain and then goes on to repeat their comment/question in english but in a LOUDER voice. Okay people - let's get this straight once and for all - it's fairly funny when you see it done in the movies or on a sitcom but the simple truth is this -- yelling at someone is NOT, under any circumstance, going make them understand what you're trying to say. It just makes you look like an idiot - a loud, illmannered, illbred, ignorant idiot. Pick up a Spanish/English dictionary and/or phrase book and then READ IT, USE IT. I guarantee, 110%, that the people here will look more kindly upon you and will try to help you in any way they can.
The breakfast buffet and common courtesy. I wonder, almost daily, if some of these people left their manners and common sense at Customs when they entered the country. You're in another country, with a different culture and different dining habits and customs. If you can't bring yourself to embrace it and try something new, take your scrambled eggs and white toast to a table, sit down and eat them without insulting the culinary customs. Walking up to a chafing dish, screwing your face into a scowl and saying "eewww, ques es?" to the staff while pointing at one of the dishes is just plain rude. Certainly, wanting to know what you're shoving into your pie hole is perfectly natural and normal - but asking in such a way that is offensive - especially when you can clearly identify white rice and black beans - merely puts you in that "Ugly American" category. While I'm still on the breakfast buffet rant -- take a look around you while you're eating -- do you see the locals at surrounding tables. Do you notice what they do when they're done with their plates? They pick them up, scrape them off and put the plates at the end of the table. Why? because there is no waitress service at this little buffet - just one woman who is responsible for keeping the table clean, chafing dishes stocked, tables wiped down and undoubtedly a million other things we are not aware of. Hey, you have to walk right past that table to leave, so why not show some common courtesy and respect the local customs - pick up after yourself (oh wait, didn't our Mother's try and teach us that as we were growing up?) after all, this is free, gratis - on the house -- you don't get a bill and you don't leave a tip - so do what you'd do at a friends house - pick up your plate and clear your place.
I'm going to give you a clue, a hint, a tip --- take it and use it. Learn some basic words - just a few that will ease your way and show your hosts that you have at least a modicum of respect for them and their country.
Lo siento means "I'm sorry" -- example: Lo siento, I'm just a big bumbling idiot who should not have just knocked that handfull of towels out of your hands because I was too busy texting.
Con Permiso means "with your permission" -- example: Con Permiso, may I get past you to go down the stairs works much better than just shoving someone aside.
Gracias means "thank you" -- example: Gracias for taking such good care of me.
Con Mucho Gusto means "I'm very pleased" or "it is my pleasure" -- example: You finally picked up after yourself and the lovely woman behind the counter says "Gracias" - your response is "con mucho gusto" because, after all, you should be very pleased with yourself for being nice and polite.
There, I'm going to stop now because I realize that I could sit here and rant for hours on end. To any American traveling to any country -- bring your manners with you - not your everyday manners - bring the ones you save for Sundays or first meetings with the in-laws -- the big, bright shiny ones you pull out when you're trying to show someone how nice you are. Bring your very best manners because whether you realize it or not -- what you do and how you do it when you travel does have an impact on us all.
Sunday - the healing continues - Updated
It's about 11:30 AM here -- we had breakfast -- once again I ate something and had no idea what it was -- it was really good though. I'm finding that when you're someplace and you don't have a good command of the languge you have only two choices when it comes to food -- give it a shot or pass. Doug usually chooses to pass, I usually choose to give it a shot. I have to say, I haven't had anything that was bad but I do wish I could find out what some of these things are.
Breakfast choices sometimes make me say, hmmmmmm -- like mixed vegetables or fried cauliflower - I just don't get it. hmmmmm.
Doug is still feeling pretty bad - hopefully the Pharmacia nearby is open -- he needs more pain meds. His swelling is still there but there is no sign of infection or fever so things are progressing.
Weather continues to be consistent - cloudy with intermittent sun, lots of rain but nice and cool.
It's probably going to be another very quiet day - read, nap, play on FB, blog, read, nap... repeat.
Saw our little mohawk-headed bird this morning and gave him his portion of whole wheat toast - yeah, that's our excitement for the day :-)
Well, needed to go to the Pharmacia y mercado - exchanged some dollars for colones and hopped in the taxi with Ramon. On the way I commented on the huge park near the hotel. Ramon tells me this was the location of Costa Rica's first airport - when they moved and expanded it, they turned the old one into a park -- soccer fields, childrens playgrounds, walking and jogging paths, picnic tables and benches made out of trees (they are really cool - hopefully I'll get a photo). Ramon asked if I had ever seen a cork tree - nope, had not. He grinned and pulled the van over - we hopped out and as we were walking we saw a squirrel (they are a little different than the ones in Florida - grey and cinnamon colored - pretty little things) trying to wrangle little Mango's --- wasn't working out so well for the little guy.
Cork Oak - really, really cool tree - the bark is spongy and he "pulled" me a piece. He says I can take it home, I hope so - it'll be a great addition to our collection of, well, weird stuff. Can I take bark out of the country I wonder, technically it isn't a plant nor is it a fruit -- well, time will tell.
Got to Mas x Menes (this market is owned by WALMART - jimminy crickets - they're going to take over the planet) and Doug wanted "real food" -- picked up some fettucine nests, heavy cream, butter, parmesean, garlic and some spices and chicken breasts. Got back home and poached the breasts in chicken stock, paprika, garlic, salt, pepper, oregano, vodka and white wine. Hey, I know - it sounds odd, but when your kitchen rivals that of the one on The Honeymooners and your pantry is pathetic, ya work with what ya have. It was surprisingly good and tender. Made an alfredo sauce and after the chicken rested, sliced it thinly -- he managed to eat a plate without too much awful pain. Gave him his meds and he's back off to bed.
Time to cruise the channels -- they have quite the assortment -- watching a show in French with Spanish subtitles really messes with your head. I'm not even going to go into the Japanese/Spanish thing -- very diverse television here.
Well, if anything else happens today/tonight - I'll keep you posted but for now, Buenos Noches mi amigas y amigos - tengo un buen noche!
Breakfast choices sometimes make me say, hmmmmmm -- like mixed vegetables or fried cauliflower - I just don't get it. hmmmmm.
Doug is still feeling pretty bad - hopefully the Pharmacia nearby is open -- he needs more pain meds. His swelling is still there but there is no sign of infection or fever so things are progressing.
Weather continues to be consistent - cloudy with intermittent sun, lots of rain but nice and cool.
It's probably going to be another very quiet day - read, nap, play on FB, blog, read, nap... repeat.
Saw our little mohawk-headed bird this morning and gave him his portion of whole wheat toast - yeah, that's our excitement for the day :-)
Well, needed to go to the Pharmacia y mercado - exchanged some dollars for colones and hopped in the taxi with Ramon. On the way I commented on the huge park near the hotel. Ramon tells me this was the location of Costa Rica's first airport - when they moved and expanded it, they turned the old one into a park -- soccer fields, childrens playgrounds, walking and jogging paths, picnic tables and benches made out of trees (they are really cool - hopefully I'll get a photo). Ramon asked if I had ever seen a cork tree - nope, had not. He grinned and pulled the van over - we hopped out and as we were walking we saw a squirrel (they are a little different than the ones in Florida - grey and cinnamon colored - pretty little things) trying to wrangle little Mango's --- wasn't working out so well for the little guy.
Cork Oak - really, really cool tree - the bark is spongy and he "pulled" me a piece. He says I can take it home, I hope so - it'll be a great addition to our collection of, well, weird stuff. Can I take bark out of the country I wonder, technically it isn't a plant nor is it a fruit -- well, time will tell.
Got to Mas x Menes (this market is owned by WALMART - jimminy crickets - they're going to take over the planet) and Doug wanted "real food" -- picked up some fettucine nests, heavy cream, butter, parmesean, garlic and some spices and chicken breasts. Got back home and poached the breasts in chicken stock, paprika, garlic, salt, pepper, oregano, vodka and white wine. Hey, I know - it sounds odd, but when your kitchen rivals that of the one on The Honeymooners and your pantry is pathetic, ya work with what ya have. It was surprisingly good and tender. Made an alfredo sauce and after the chicken rested, sliced it thinly -- he managed to eat a plate without too much awful pain. Gave him his meds and he's back off to bed.
Time to cruise the channels -- they have quite the assortment -- watching a show in French with Spanish subtitles really messes with your head. I'm not even going to go into the Japanese/Spanish thing -- very diverse television here.
Well, if anything else happens today/tonight - I'll keep you posted but for now, Buenos Noches mi amigas y amigos - tengo un buen noche!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Bones of San Jose, Costa Rica
On Wednesday afternoon, after the last consultation, we called Juan and asked if he had a couple of hours to show us the Capital City. Juan is a charming young man who we met on our trip here in 2008.
It was wonderful to see him again and after hugs and European kisses we were off to the City.
We drove to Galeria Namu first. If you ever get to San Jose, this is a must do. The Galeria is a Fair Trade Gallery - meaning that the artisians are paid fairly for their work and mark ups are not horrific. Masks used in ceremony are displayed as well as art masks from local tribes. Street children are in program where they recycle metal and make art -- not only are their artistic souls being fed, but they learn a trade or two - be it painting, airbrushing and/or welding. The pieces are small enough to fit in a purse an are whimsical representations of insects, butterflies, leaf cutter ants and crabs, among others. There are ceremonial pieces of jewelry, reproductioins of pre-columbian art, textiles, amazing baskets and a plethora of items. If you can't get there in person, check them out at www.galerianamu.com.
After our little foray into Namu, we went to a lovely little restaurant tucked into one of the buildings lining the street -- no sign, just a doorway. Inside the walls were painted a calming green and featured paintings by local artists. Our waiter came over with bottles of water and glasses. Menus were passed out and Doug ordered Arroz con Pollo with fresh vegetables and cole slaw. I let Juan order for me.
I have no idea what it was - aside from delicious. It had two kinds of meat - one ground, one sliced and perhaps raw. A lovely sauce, lettuce, a thick slice of tomato all encased in the most lovely, crunchy case - a cross between puff pastry and a croissant.
Juan then took us to the Central Market and Central Avenue. I don't even know how to describe this. Picture a long, wide cobbled street - running, say, east to west. No vehicles are allowed - pure pedestrian traffic. However, streets running north to south are for vehicles. So, there you are -- walking along and BAM -- all of a sudden you are faced with cars and buses and trucks - then POOF - the light changes and you can go - but if that light changes you had better be out of the way - because these vehicles aren't going to wait for the intersection to clear. Yes, yes - there was running and screaming -- from me -- and sure, there was laughing from Juan and head shaking from Doug, I'm such a loob. Wouldn't go back but wouldn't have missed it for the world.
It was insane - and overwhelming - people swarming, women sitting at card tables selling lottery tickets, illegals spreading blankets in the middle of the streets laying out bootleg movies and DVD's, beggars, businessmen and hawkers all together - flower stalls and bakeries, clothing stores next to electronic stores next to soda's next to --- well, you get it.
We walked to the National Theatre -- a building that rivals any in Europe, for it was built to exact european specifications. A central plaza filled with pigeons and children and old women feeding them (the birds, not the kids). Mind boggling.
The Central Market dates back to the "old city" and has been designated as, for lack of a better phrase, a historic landmark - they can fix it, they can update it but it cannot be torn down. We walked down narrow lanes, cobbled tiny streets lined with booth after booth - leather and seafood stalls, coffee vendors and wood art, clothing and butchers. No rhyme nor reason. I imagine it would take me weeks to wend my way around the whole thing and a month to find my way out again.
I called this entry The Bones of San Jose because you could see, clearly see the Bones of the original City - The National Theatre and Hotel next to it. There were homes - homes that must have been breathtaking when they were built - two and three stories of marble and covered with stone carvings. An ampitheatre in the Roman or Greek style, government buildings and parks. Then, adjacent - buildings slapped up of corrugated metal and brick, plastic sheeting and cement. Fences and gates and concertina wire now fill the Calles and Avenidas.
I don't know when or how it happened but it saddens me. Now I know there are 'better sections' of San Jose that we didn't see. We didn't see most of the areas where the tour companies take you and I'm glad. When we travel we don't want to see what the tour operators and government wants you to see. We want to see the real place - be it island, city, countryside or town - we believe that in order to know a place you must know it's people and it's bones.
The bones of San Jose are tangled. Past merges with present messily, but they merge and mesh nonetheless. Out of this tangled city rise a people that have proven themselves to be polite, open, friendly, patient with the traveler who takes the time to try speak the language and research their culture. I could sit here and type for hours but let me put it in a nutshell -- if more people, more cultures behaved like the Costa Ricans I have had the pleasure to meet - the world would be a kinder, more civilized place.
It was wonderful to see him again and after hugs and European kisses we were off to the City.
We drove to Galeria Namu first. If you ever get to San Jose, this is a must do. The Galeria is a Fair Trade Gallery - meaning that the artisians are paid fairly for their work and mark ups are not horrific. Masks used in ceremony are displayed as well as art masks from local tribes. Street children are in program where they recycle metal and make art -- not only are their artistic souls being fed, but they learn a trade or two - be it painting, airbrushing and/or welding. The pieces are small enough to fit in a purse an are whimsical representations of insects, butterflies, leaf cutter ants and crabs, among others. There are ceremonial pieces of jewelry, reproductioins of pre-columbian art, textiles, amazing baskets and a plethora of items. If you can't get there in person, check them out at www.galerianamu.com.
After our little foray into Namu, we went to a lovely little restaurant tucked into one of the buildings lining the street -- no sign, just a doorway. Inside the walls were painted a calming green and featured paintings by local artists. Our waiter came over with bottles of water and glasses. Menus were passed out and Doug ordered Arroz con Pollo with fresh vegetables and cole slaw. I let Juan order for me.
I have no idea what it was - aside from delicious. It had two kinds of meat - one ground, one sliced and perhaps raw. A lovely sauce, lettuce, a thick slice of tomato all encased in the most lovely, crunchy case - a cross between puff pastry and a croissant.
Juan then took us to the Central Market and Central Avenue. I don't even know how to describe this. Picture a long, wide cobbled street - running, say, east to west. No vehicles are allowed - pure pedestrian traffic. However, streets running north to south are for vehicles. So, there you are -- walking along and BAM -- all of a sudden you are faced with cars and buses and trucks - then POOF - the light changes and you can go - but if that light changes you had better be out of the way - because these vehicles aren't going to wait for the intersection to clear. Yes, yes - there was running and screaming -- from me -- and sure, there was laughing from Juan and head shaking from Doug, I'm such a loob. Wouldn't go back but wouldn't have missed it for the world.
It was insane - and overwhelming - people swarming, women sitting at card tables selling lottery tickets, illegals spreading blankets in the middle of the streets laying out bootleg movies and DVD's, beggars, businessmen and hawkers all together - flower stalls and bakeries, clothing stores next to electronic stores next to soda's next to --- well, you get it.
We walked to the National Theatre -- a building that rivals any in Europe, for it was built to exact european specifications. A central plaza filled with pigeons and children and old women feeding them (the birds, not the kids). Mind boggling.
The Central Market dates back to the "old city" and has been designated as, for lack of a better phrase, a historic landmark - they can fix it, they can update it but it cannot be torn down. We walked down narrow lanes, cobbled tiny streets lined with booth after booth - leather and seafood stalls, coffee vendors and wood art, clothing and butchers. No rhyme nor reason. I imagine it would take me weeks to wend my way around the whole thing and a month to find my way out again.
I called this entry The Bones of San Jose because you could see, clearly see the Bones of the original City - The National Theatre and Hotel next to it. There were homes - homes that must have been breathtaking when they were built - two and three stories of marble and covered with stone carvings. An ampitheatre in the Roman or Greek style, government buildings and parks. Then, adjacent - buildings slapped up of corrugated metal and brick, plastic sheeting and cement. Fences and gates and concertina wire now fill the Calles and Avenidas.
I don't know when or how it happened but it saddens me. Now I know there are 'better sections' of San Jose that we didn't see. We didn't see most of the areas where the tour companies take you and I'm glad. When we travel we don't want to see what the tour operators and government wants you to see. We want to see the real place - be it island, city, countryside or town - we believe that in order to know a place you must know it's people and it's bones.
The bones of San Jose are tangled. Past merges with present messily, but they merge and mesh nonetheless. Out of this tangled city rise a people that have proven themselves to be polite, open, friendly, patient with the traveler who takes the time to try speak the language and research their culture. I could sit here and type for hours but let me put it in a nutshell -- if more people, more cultures behaved like the Costa Ricans I have had the pleasure to meet - the world would be a kinder, more civilized place.
Saturday - a break
Saturday morning was the most beautiful morning we have seen since we arrived. The sky was bright and clear with little puffy clouds floating by. The breeze was cool and light.
Doug's face is swollen on the left side but he says the pain is a 1 on a scale of 1 to 10.
We walked down to breakfast and fed our little flying friend. Did I mention him? No? Well, now that we have a break from the dental work, let me fill you in - because we HAVE had some light moments. Every morning when we sit down to breakfast there is this little bird -- he looks like a cross between a Sparrow and a Finch, BUT he has a tuft on the top of his head that looks like a mohawk - seriously. He's a cheeky little bugger and adores whole wheat toast. He flits around tables, hopping and hoping for treats. If I can get a photo, I'll post it - but he's FAST.
After breakfast Doug thought he might like to do something - said he was afraid boredom might set in. We talked about it, looked at brochures for a while and then he admitted he was feeling -- what did he say - ah yes, he felt lumpy. I made him some Mac and Cheese and here I am - blogging, trying to let you all know what's going on here.
We go back to the dentist on Monday - but just to check on the work that's been done so far - making sure there are no infections and that the stitches are doing okay.
The next couple of posts will be much lighter, I promise.
Oh, in case you're wondering -- yes, Doug thinks it's worth it -- get it done quickly, don't drag it out for months and remembers that in a week, he'll have teeth again and will be able to chew. First on his list??? A steak. He's got it - I'll grill it to perfectioin and it WILL be filet mingnon...
Doug's face is swollen on the left side but he says the pain is a 1 on a scale of 1 to 10.
We walked down to breakfast and fed our little flying friend. Did I mention him? No? Well, now that we have a break from the dental work, let me fill you in - because we HAVE had some light moments. Every morning when we sit down to breakfast there is this little bird -- he looks like a cross between a Sparrow and a Finch, BUT he has a tuft on the top of his head that looks like a mohawk - seriously. He's a cheeky little bugger and adores whole wheat toast. He flits around tables, hopping and hoping for treats. If I can get a photo, I'll post it - but he's FAST.
After breakfast Doug thought he might like to do something - said he was afraid boredom might set in. We talked about it, looked at brochures for a while and then he admitted he was feeling -- what did he say - ah yes, he felt lumpy. I made him some Mac and Cheese and here I am - blogging, trying to let you all know what's going on here.
We go back to the dentist on Monday - but just to check on the work that's been done so far - making sure there are no infections and that the stitches are doing okay.
The next couple of posts will be much lighter, I promise.
Oh, in case you're wondering -- yes, Doug thinks it's worth it -- get it done quickly, don't drag it out for months and remembers that in a week, he'll have teeth again and will be able to chew. First on his list??? A steak. He's got it - I'll grill it to perfectioin and it WILL be filet mingnon...
Friday - Please God, let this be all
9:00 AM Friday finds us back in the dentist's office.
They take him back and I have to be honest here -- if it were me, you'd have to drag me kicking and screaming back into that office or whap me over the head with a stick and carry me in. I don't know how anyone can be so brave.
Again, I find myself staring at my computer screen and the doorway. Finally, finally he appears - another icepack on his face and looking shaky.
They couldn't save that lower tooth and had to do another bone graft. They placed the final two implants and we had to go back at 4:00 for the temporaries.
He did it - he did it all.
Some of you may be wondering why are they putting in temps. -- well, let me tell you - there was another guy staying here who initially opted to forego the temps. That lasted about a day. Why? Well, those posts they put in for the implants apparently tear up your tongue - we're talking bleeding here. So the temps. are not just for being able to eat oatmeal, but for the health and safety of your mouth.
Poor Doug - his face is swollen, his head hurts and I'm pretty sure he traumatized - I know I would be.
No fever. Went to the Pharmacia and got some pretty good pain pills (nope, no scrips needed). Gave him one, he nodded off and no bad reaction (yes, we got what the doctor recommended, we didn't just run in and say - Hola, quiero drugs!)
Food: pasta and soup, pudding and yogurt.
They take him back and I have to be honest here -- if it were me, you'd have to drag me kicking and screaming back into that office or whap me over the head with a stick and carry me in. I don't know how anyone can be so brave.
Again, I find myself staring at my computer screen and the doorway. Finally, finally he appears - another icepack on his face and looking shaky.
They couldn't save that lower tooth and had to do another bone graft. They placed the final two implants and we had to go back at 4:00 for the temporaries.
He did it - he did it all.
Some of you may be wondering why are they putting in temps. -- well, let me tell you - there was another guy staying here who initially opted to forego the temps. That lasted about a day. Why? Well, those posts they put in for the implants apparently tear up your tongue - we're talking bleeding here. So the temps. are not just for being able to eat oatmeal, but for the health and safety of your mouth.
Poor Doug - his face is swollen, his head hurts and I'm pretty sure he traumatized - I know I would be.
No fever. Went to the Pharmacia and got some pretty good pain pills (nope, no scrips needed). Gave him one, he nodded off and no bad reaction (yes, we got what the doctor recommended, we didn't just run in and say - Hola, quiero drugs!)
Food: pasta and soup, pudding and yogurt.
Thursday - my heart is breaking
Doug decided to take a shower before the appointment today. Remember I said the entire bathroom was tiled? Well, it is and tile can be slippery. I heard the shower turn off and then I heard Doug yell - well, actually swear. I ran in and found him on the floor - he leaned out to get a towel and lost his footing - he hit his shoulder and hit it hard. I can't believe he's already in pain and now this.
Here we are again - 9:00 AM - dentist's office. They took him back and gave him a pretty heavy sedative. It's now around 10:00 and Dr. Marco took the time to come out and tell me Doug is calm and ready for whatever they need to do.
He's been in there a long time - at least an hour and a half. I think I must know what my dog feels like when we go out - I keep staring at the doorway he went through wondering when he'll come out and is he okay.
There, I see him - he has a bag of ice up to his face and he looks a little shocky. They worked on the upper left quadrant. That tooth, the one the specialist messed up? Dr. Marco couldn't save it. Not only that, he had to cut a flap into the gum, clean out the 'hole' in the jawbone with a diamond burr (I use these things in my art work -- they're scary) and then do the bone graft, then stitch it up. This was, according to Doug - amazingly painful). He also put in two implants -- so, the count there was one extraction, one bone graft and two implants. He said he wanted Doug back at 4PM to seat the partials.
I got Doug back to the hotel and settled in -- just a few hours later I had to wake him up and take him back to the dentist. How this man drags himself out of bed each time - knowing it's going to be painful and uncomfortable is beyond me. It is Thursday and he has been in that chair twice a day for days.
We got some oatmeal, yogurt and pudding into him. More sleep.
Friday morning, he's got to go back for more.
Here we are again - 9:00 AM - dentist's office. They took him back and gave him a pretty heavy sedative. It's now around 10:00 and Dr. Marco took the time to come out and tell me Doug is calm and ready for whatever they need to do.
He's been in there a long time - at least an hour and a half. I think I must know what my dog feels like when we go out - I keep staring at the doorway he went through wondering when he'll come out and is he okay.
There, I see him - he has a bag of ice up to his face and he looks a little shocky. They worked on the upper left quadrant. That tooth, the one the specialist messed up? Dr. Marco couldn't save it. Not only that, he had to cut a flap into the gum, clean out the 'hole' in the jawbone with a diamond burr (I use these things in my art work -- they're scary) and then do the bone graft, then stitch it up. This was, according to Doug - amazingly painful). He also put in two implants -- so, the count there was one extraction, one bone graft and two implants. He said he wanted Doug back at 4PM to seat the partials.
I got Doug back to the hotel and settled in -- just a few hours later I had to wake him up and take him back to the dentist. How this man drags himself out of bed each time - knowing it's going to be painful and uncomfortable is beyond me. It is Thursday and he has been in that chair twice a day for days.
We got some oatmeal, yogurt and pudding into him. More sleep.
Friday morning, he's got to go back for more.
Wednesday - setback
We got up Wednesday and went down to the buffet - Theresa is the wonderful woman who greets us daily and I have been most remiss in telling you about her - I will, in later posts.
Doug took a piece of toast, some scrambled eggs and juice then sat and picked at it. His jaw was slightly swollen and he felt sick. Actually, he felt so sick he called the dentist and rescheduled for that afternoon.
I took him back to the room, checked for fever and tucked him in. Black out draperies rock - that's all I'm going to say.
2:00 PM we went back to dentist - everything looked fine - it was probably a reaction to the Percoset and stress.
Dr. Marco said it would be best to let himwait until tomorrow.
Home - dinner (soft pasta in cream of chicken soup)(for those that know me - don't cringe, he needed soft food) and back to bed. I was in bed at 8:00 PM myself.
Thursday's nightmare.....
Doug took a piece of toast, some scrambled eggs and juice then sat and picked at it. His jaw was slightly swollen and he felt sick. Actually, he felt so sick he called the dentist and rescheduled for that afternoon.
I took him back to the room, checked for fever and tucked him in. Black out draperies rock - that's all I'm going to say.
2:00 PM we went back to dentist - everything looked fine - it was probably a reaction to the Percoset and stress.
Dr. Marco said it would be best to let himwait until tomorrow.
Home - dinner (soft pasta in cream of chicken soup)(for those that know me - don't cringe, he needed soft food) and back to bed. I was in bed at 8:00 PM myself.
Thursday's nightmare.....
Tuesday - work begins
9:00 AM - back in the dentist's office. We sit side by side, each lost in our own thoughts - television playing in the background. Doug is taken back and I flip open my netbook - hoping beyond hope that there is WiFi so I can work, just like I promised everyone back home that I would. Poof -- there it is -- an open network. I'm tapping and typing, checking emails, printing faxes, the whole shebang and then Dr. Marco calls me into his office.
He shakes my hand and bids me to sit. He tells me that the first phase has gone well. The right side is done - two upper implants, one lower. It went beautifully with no problems. He said Doug was "very relaxed" (read "kinda stoned") and told me to take him back to the hotel, rest for a few hours and come back at 4:00 for the temporaries (seriously - they were ready within a few hours).
Doug says he was amazed by the speed - it was quick, much faster than he anticipated. Our driver came and took us back to the hotel - at 3:20 I woke Doug up and off we went to the dentist. Temporaries were placed and home we went. Doug took a pain pill (don't kid yourself - getting titanium tips screwed into your jaw not once but three times hurts!) and went to sleep.
Work was to begin again Wednesday morning.
He shakes my hand and bids me to sit. He tells me that the first phase has gone well. The right side is done - two upper implants, one lower. It went beautifully with no problems. He said Doug was "very relaxed" (read "kinda stoned") and told me to take him back to the hotel, rest for a few hours and come back at 4:00 for the temporaries (seriously - they were ready within a few hours).
Doug says he was amazed by the speed - it was quick, much faster than he anticipated. Our driver came and took us back to the hotel - at 3:20 I woke Doug up and off we went to the dentist. Temporaries were placed and home we went. Doug took a pain pill (don't kid yourself - getting titanium tips screwed into your jaw not once but three times hurts!) and went to sleep.
Work was to begin again Wednesday morning.
Monday - First Visit to the Dentist
Monday morning - 9:00 AM and we're in the dentist's waiting room. Contrary to what we've been told - Costa Rican nationals do use the same dentists as the medical vacationers -- there were locals, an American or two, a German and a few others waiting.
Fairly quickly Doug was whisked away for x-rays and an initial exam - including upper and lower impressions. Within 20 minutes or so we were seated in the impressive office of the dentist. Dr. Marco sat behind a massive desk surrounded by diplomas, awards, and loaded bookshelves.
He began talking to us about Doug's current situation and turned a computer screen toward us which showed his x-rays. Dr. Marco said that he had a fundamental issue with pulling perfectly good teeth and thought that it would be wiser to keep the front teeth and place implants in the molar areas only.
He discussed bone density with visual aids provided by whatever tricky little program was on his computer -- Doug's bone density in most of his upper and lower jaw was great. There were, however, two spots of some concern (which had not been addressed or even noted stateside). One of his canine teeth had been given a root canal by a specialist in FL last year. The dentist broke through the bottom of the tooth which caused 3 or 4 abcesses over the next year. Dr. Marco showed us a large dark area -- which was where the infection had eaten away the jawbone (oh man, oh geez, oh pete - even I know THAT can't be good). Then he showed us a similar black, empty spot on the lower jaw, caused by the same issue with another tooth.
Things were changing and changing quickly -- and NOT in a good way.
Dr. Marco, bless his heart, spent well over an hour going over everything - options, answering my questions (like, where do you get the bone material from - cadavers, human cadavers -- he purchases from the same US labs that US dentists do). Time frames, what happens IF he needs grafts, all of them. He exhibited patience and humor and made us both feel comfortable.
By the time we walked out we had a tenative treatment plan. 7 - 8 implants, possibly 2 extractions (those teeth that caused the bone damage), 2 definite extractions (the broken root tips where the last two crowns broke off in the lower quadrant) and possibly 1 or 2 bone grafts - upper and lower. Estimated cost you must be wondering? I know I was. Are ya ready? $6,600. Earlier on we had gotten estimates of about 50,000 for this work -- here's another kicker -- it didn't include the cost of bone grafts - which run about 4,000 each stateside - so the cost for this work in the US would be about 58,000. Quite a difference, huh. Oh, I can hear you now - well, are they going to use substandard implants -- nope, they all get them from the same place --- Titanium is Titanium is Titanium. Heck, Dr. Marco has been in trade publications for these implants - it's true - it's no joke.
Did I mention the office itself?? Clean, totally clean, spotless - personnel were constantly - I mean constanty cleaning, mopping, polishing and sanitizing every surface. They have their lab on site -- nothing gets sent away for a couple of weeks - it's all done there.
Work starts Tuesday morning - 9:00AM. Doug wants to back to the Italian restaurant, with the ground meat. Let me tell you about that -- we ordered lasagne and the flavor was, well, unique. It didn't taste like beef nor pork or spicy sausage - almost like a veal. We called our waiter over and he said yes, it is veal. My face must have made a small, horrified comment that my brain was not aware of because he quickly said "no, not a baby cow -- it was, well, a teen-aged cow." I don't even want to think about it. We ordered different meals and just like the first time, it was lovely - civilized, classy, nice - really nice.
Fairly quickly Doug was whisked away for x-rays and an initial exam - including upper and lower impressions. Within 20 minutes or so we were seated in the impressive office of the dentist. Dr. Marco sat behind a massive desk surrounded by diplomas, awards, and loaded bookshelves.
He began talking to us about Doug's current situation and turned a computer screen toward us which showed his x-rays. Dr. Marco said that he had a fundamental issue with pulling perfectly good teeth and thought that it would be wiser to keep the front teeth and place implants in the molar areas only.
He discussed bone density with visual aids provided by whatever tricky little program was on his computer -- Doug's bone density in most of his upper and lower jaw was great. There were, however, two spots of some concern (which had not been addressed or even noted stateside). One of his canine teeth had been given a root canal by a specialist in FL last year. The dentist broke through the bottom of the tooth which caused 3 or 4 abcesses over the next year. Dr. Marco showed us a large dark area -- which was where the infection had eaten away the jawbone (oh man, oh geez, oh pete - even I know THAT can't be good). Then he showed us a similar black, empty spot on the lower jaw, caused by the same issue with another tooth.
Things were changing and changing quickly -- and NOT in a good way.
Dr. Marco, bless his heart, spent well over an hour going over everything - options, answering my questions (like, where do you get the bone material from - cadavers, human cadavers -- he purchases from the same US labs that US dentists do). Time frames, what happens IF he needs grafts, all of them. He exhibited patience and humor and made us both feel comfortable.
By the time we walked out we had a tenative treatment plan. 7 - 8 implants, possibly 2 extractions (those teeth that caused the bone damage), 2 definite extractions (the broken root tips where the last two crowns broke off in the lower quadrant) and possibly 1 or 2 bone grafts - upper and lower. Estimated cost you must be wondering? I know I was. Are ya ready? $6,600. Earlier on we had gotten estimates of about 50,000 for this work -- here's another kicker -- it didn't include the cost of bone grafts - which run about 4,000 each stateside - so the cost for this work in the US would be about 58,000. Quite a difference, huh. Oh, I can hear you now - well, are they going to use substandard implants -- nope, they all get them from the same place --- Titanium is Titanium is Titanium. Heck, Dr. Marco has been in trade publications for these implants - it's true - it's no joke.
Did I mention the office itself?? Clean, totally clean, spotless - personnel were constantly - I mean constanty cleaning, mopping, polishing and sanitizing every surface. They have their lab on site -- nothing gets sent away for a couple of weeks - it's all done there.
Work starts Tuesday morning - 9:00AM. Doug wants to back to the Italian restaurant, with the ground meat. Let me tell you about that -- we ordered lasagne and the flavor was, well, unique. It didn't taste like beef nor pork or spicy sausage - almost like a veal. We called our waiter over and he said yes, it is veal. My face must have made a small, horrified comment that my brain was not aware of because he quickly said "no, not a baby cow -- it was, well, a teen-aged cow." I don't even want to think about it. We ordered different meals and just like the first time, it was lovely - civilized, classy, nice - really nice.
Getting Settled - Day 2
Jet lag - I hate jet lag. CR is only two hours behind Florida time, but that was enough for me. 4:30AM local time and I'm up and out of bed. No coffee. I want coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee -- breakfast doesn't start until 6:30...... stare out the window looking down on San Jose -- lights still burning because the SUN HASN'T EVEN GOTTEN UP YET. Start with that stupid Vonage issue again, internet research, my eyes burn and my stomach churns -- if I can't get this blasted thing figured out we are t-totally out of luck, everything will fall apart...wait - what's this - Windows Vista has/had a problem working with Vonage ---- read, read, read.... they have a work around.... try it on the netbook with Windows 7 Starter (what moron decided any computer should have a half-baked version of any OS put on it??).... no go, nada, nothing... I still want coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee....... I try it on Doug's laptop, with Windows 7 ..... okay, not quite right - tweak, tweak.... play, play, tweak, pray, tweak, twiddle, fiddle, got it -- lost it -- got it - YESSSSSSSSS we have Vonage - it works. I'm standing there wanting to jump up and down, pump my fist in the air and wake Doug up, but that would be wrong - it's been hours, about three hours but we're up and running. NOW I'm going to get COFFEE!!!!
I walk down four flights of tiled stairs, all open air. The dawn is cool and the ornamental gingers flash in reds, oranges and yellows around me. Parrots fly overhead calling to each other. If it weren't so early I'd really be enjoying this. Neatly trimmed Azaleas with their blooms of pink and red vie with the hot pink bouganvilla dangling from the walls for attention. I walk into the courtyard and there it is - NIRVANA - A COFFEE URN. I grab a cup and wander down the breakfast buffet line - fresh guava and pineapple, rice and beans, toast and jam, scrambled eggs and a few things I don't recognize. I settle in at a table poolside (yep, they have a pool too!) and sip my oh so wonderful Costa Rican coffee. Doug is still sleeping so I just enjoy the **gasp** early morning.
I go back to the room and in a bit we both head down for breakfast - eggs, toast, fruit, ham and cheese slices, more coffee and unknown juices - yummo. We go back to the lobby, exchange some currency (Colones are the Costa Rican currency and American dollars are not widely accepted) then we head to Mas x Menos, which is the local grocery store. Our cab pulls up and we are greeted by an umbrella toting (did I mention that June is the rainy season in CR? It rains, a lot - the locals call it the 'green season') doorman (seriously) who brings us to the door and in we go.
It hits me -- we really don't speak much Spanish nor do we have Spanish reading skills -- well, let's grab a cart and see what happens. Twenty minutes later we're roaming around -- looking like the idiot tourists we are -- so many unfamiliar things to see and touch and buy. Familiar things in a totally unfamiliar package -- did you know that down here the mayo, mustard and ketchup come in little BAGS?!?!? How cool - and some of the mayo is flavored with Lime? and the ketchup is sweeter than it is stateside? and the eggs are sold by weight not number and they sell these little teeny tiny speckled eggs -- I don't know from what kind of bird -- it was so much fun. We were (okay, I was) giggling and looking at everything.
Because we didn't know exactly what was going to be going on with the dental work we walked out with pudding cups, yogurt, a box of stuffing mix (there was NO instant potato mix), something called 1/2 butter (I've used it - I'm not sure what it is exactly), milk, heavy cream for the BRITT COFFEE, Coke, Coke Light (they don't call it Diet Coke here), some eggs, some odd little breads and a few other things I'm not sure why I brought. The doorman hailed us a cab and back to the hotel we went.
We unpacked our bags and walked around the Christina - the lobby all dark tile and teak with stunning floral arrangements, the Sala internet for those without their own laptops, laundry facility, underground parking area, coffee area (oh if only i had known!) and back to the pool.
Doug decided he wanted a burger -- there is a Burger King a few blocks over so out we go. We get in line and I am able to order us both lunch (thankfully BK has a numbering system for meals and we were able to figure out large, fries vs onion rings, etc. -- the girl behind the counter gave us the total. I simply stared at her and said Lo Siento, yo no comprende - her reaction was lovely - she smiled and turned the screen toward me so I could read the numbers - it was about 7500 Colones or 15.00 - expensive by Costa Rican standards, but remember - BK is a foreign company. Lunch at a Soda runs about 4.00 a plate or 2,000 Colones.)
We ate chicken lite hotdogs (for some reason they come individually wrapped in the package - luckily the plastic sleeves didn't melt in the hot water). I have discovered I'm not a big fan of chicken lite individually wrapped hotdogs on sesame buns but did have much fun using the bag o' mustard and bag o' ketchup on them. It was early to bed and preparation for Monday's meeting with the dentist.
Day 1 - We have Arrived
Our day started early (I'm one of those people who firmly believe morning should be outlawed - nothing should move until noon unless it bloody well wants to) 6:00 AM - up and at it.
The smell of coffee pulled me out of bed and into the kitchen. The clock on the wall jarred me into action (think Home Alone, when they all slept in). Joanne showed up right on time, we piled into her oh so comfortable car and headed to the airport.
They tell you to get there 2 hours early for international flights, so we did. Many of you know the drill at security -- shoes off, pull out the laptops and cell phones and all the other gizmos that we've tied ourselves to. Step through the little beepy gate, grab your stuff and try to put your shoes on without blocking everyone else. Go find the gate - find the gate then go find a cup of coffee, or three, because now you've got an hour and twenty minutes before you actually get on the plane.
Fly to Miami - go find the gate for the next flight - then go find some lunch because now you've got 2 hours and 40 minutes before you get on the flight to San Jose.
Get on the plane - find out you've gotten yourselves stuck with the "snotty crew" -- the gang o' flight attendants who really just don't want to be on that flight that day. Great, just great.
Get to San Jose. I like the San Jose Airport. It's not huge like MIA or DFW or JFK, it's more like SRQ - clean, tidy and easy to get around. Customs is pretty streamlined too -- they have about 10 lanes for "nationals", Ticos coming home from elsewhere and about 15 lines for visitors/tourists. The line moves FAST. The agents are very nice. After you clear customs you go through baggage then one more line -- your bags are scanned to ensure you're not bringing in animals or plants or anything else weird.
Now - here comes the tricky part. As soon as you open that door to Costa Rica proper - there they are. Herds of taxi drivers and car services. There are also those who will approach you, grabbing at your bags saying they will 'help you' -- hold on to your bags -- some may just be a bit over zealous but there are petty thieves who will snatch and run. Don't get me wrong - it doesn't just happen in CR, it's everywhere.
The dentist's office and hotel had arranged for a car and driver to pick us up and soon we were heading into San Jose and to the Christina.
The Christina - wow, it looks cool. All angles - white and glass and wood yet it has a feeling of old world about it as well. Up the stairs and into the lobby. We quickly check in and are taken to our 'apartment'. Sleek brass fixtures attached to -- TEAK DOORS -- holy cow, teak all over the place - doors, woodwork, cabinets - it's a dream. White tile floors, pristine white walls. The bath is tiled about 6' up the walls. The living area has a small sofa, two arm chairs and a table, kitchen has sink, stove, refrigerator, cabinets, dishes, pots, pans, flatware, etc... the bedroom has a queen sized bed - nice and firm, fluffy pillows and window seat and a walk in closet. Internet, WiFi, Cable - it's all here. We test the gotomypc.com software and all is well. Then we try to hook up the vonage telephone -- it's not working - the usb reads as blank in my nifty new netbook -- nothing there, nada -- hook it up to Dougs' laptop -- again, nothing, nada - we start looking online - we're tired, we're cranky, we're panicked. Finally, I say - drop it for now - we'll figure it out before Monday - we just can't focus.
We settle in a bit, grab a bite at the Italian restaurant attached to the hotel and hit the sheets -- it's been a looonnngg day.
The smell of coffee pulled me out of bed and into the kitchen. The clock on the wall jarred me into action (think Home Alone, when they all slept in). Joanne showed up right on time, we piled into her oh so comfortable car and headed to the airport.
They tell you to get there 2 hours early for international flights, so we did. Many of you know the drill at security -- shoes off, pull out the laptops and cell phones and all the other gizmos that we've tied ourselves to. Step through the little beepy gate, grab your stuff and try to put your shoes on without blocking everyone else. Go find the gate - find the gate then go find a cup of coffee, or three, because now you've got an hour and twenty minutes before you actually get on the plane.
Fly to Miami - go find the gate for the next flight - then go find some lunch because now you've got 2 hours and 40 minutes before you get on the flight to San Jose.
Get on the plane - find out you've gotten yourselves stuck with the "snotty crew" -- the gang o' flight attendants who really just don't want to be on that flight that day. Great, just great.
Get to San Jose. I like the San Jose Airport. It's not huge like MIA or DFW or JFK, it's more like SRQ - clean, tidy and easy to get around. Customs is pretty streamlined too -- they have about 10 lanes for "nationals", Ticos coming home from elsewhere and about 15 lines for visitors/tourists. The line moves FAST. The agents are very nice. After you clear customs you go through baggage then one more line -- your bags are scanned to ensure you're not bringing in animals or plants or anything else weird.
Now - here comes the tricky part. As soon as you open that door to Costa Rica proper - there they are. Herds of taxi drivers and car services. There are also those who will approach you, grabbing at your bags saying they will 'help you' -- hold on to your bags -- some may just be a bit over zealous but there are petty thieves who will snatch and run. Don't get me wrong - it doesn't just happen in CR, it's everywhere.
The dentist's office and hotel had arranged for a car and driver to pick us up and soon we were heading into San Jose and to the Christina.
The Christina - wow, it looks cool. All angles - white and glass and wood yet it has a feeling of old world about it as well. Up the stairs and into the lobby. We quickly check in and are taken to our 'apartment'. Sleek brass fixtures attached to -- TEAK DOORS -- holy cow, teak all over the place - doors, woodwork, cabinets - it's a dream. White tile floors, pristine white walls. The bath is tiled about 6' up the walls. The living area has a small sofa, two arm chairs and a table, kitchen has sink, stove, refrigerator, cabinets, dishes, pots, pans, flatware, etc... the bedroom has a queen sized bed - nice and firm, fluffy pillows and window seat and a walk in closet. Internet, WiFi, Cable - it's all here. We test the gotomypc.com software and all is well. Then we try to hook up the vonage telephone -- it's not working - the usb reads as blank in my nifty new netbook -- nothing there, nada -- hook it up to Dougs' laptop -- again, nothing, nada - we start looking online - we're tired, we're cranky, we're panicked. Finally, I say - drop it for now - we'll figure it out before Monday - we just can't focus.
We settle in a bit, grab a bite at the Italian restaurant attached to the hotel and hit the sheets -- it's been a looonnngg day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)