First (fourth) impressions

I’ve made it to Costa Rica!  Before I begin telling the tale of my travel, I feel that I missed an opportunity to share what the Atlantic side of Nicaragua is like.  First of all, it’s heavily influenced by Africa.  Most of the residents are black and have ties to faraway lands as compared to their more tan / Aztecan brethren.  This gives the Caribbean dwellers the unique ability to speak 3 or more languages.  The obvious 2 are English and Spanish (usually with a Jamaican style “ya mon” accent).  The other languages spoken are Creole and Miskito.  I don’t know much about either dialect but I think it’s a form of bastardized English.  The best example I can give is “I’m coming” is translated to “Soon I reach”.  Regardless, I couldn’t understand two islanders conversing with one another.  But this did present a fun opportunity for us gringos.  All across Nicaragua we stand out and the local people assume (and usually rightfully so) that we can’t speak Spanish.  But out on the coast, it allowed us to speak Spanglish.  I regularly said things like “Perdon, can I have the cuenta por favor?”  Everyone who worked at the hotel loved it – I think I was their favorite guest ever.

Another great story I forgot to tell involves Mateo and I’s near-disaster kayaking adventure.  Ask me for it later – I don’t think I can do it justice via blog.

Anyway, back to crossing the border into Costa Rica.  In short it was a piece of cake but I contemplated writing this in Spanish probably in a vain effort to give them my opinion.  For example, signs are helpful tools for herding large quantities of people.  Use them!  But overall, it was fine.  I got off a bus, filled out paperwork and paid $1 on the Nicaragua side.  The Costa Rican side was a little more complicated.  They wanted proof that after 90 days, you were going to leave their lovely country.  Luckily, I brought mine.  And with a wink and a smile (and another long walk with my bags), I was on Tico soil.

Back to the title of this post, this is my fourth time in CR but I’m seeing it a whole different way.  The Pedro of days of yore was coming from America, young and with a tour group.  The nowadays Pedro is on his own, speaks Spanish and has just come from a much less developed country.  First of all, it’s nicer in CR.  On the Nica side, I was standing on a dilapidated school bus while on the Tico side, I has a seat in a nicer MarcoPolo bus.  Of course there’s a slight increase in price for luxuries such as these but they seem minor (or I don’t understand the Colon to USD exchange rate).

Lastly, hostels.  I really don’t like them.  Which is weird because I feel as though I should.  Cheap, bare essentials and people who like to travel are things that I’ve been surrounded by for the past 2 years.  But there’s something about hostels that rubs me the wrong way.  While everything here is very clean, there is just a lingering stench that never seems to dissipate (hopefully I’m not a cause).  And most of the backpackers I’ve met are strangely stuck up.  There were times in Nicaragua I would talk to a backpacker who’d been in a city for a week and they’d try to give me advice.  “Dude, you’ve gotta check out the Somoto canyon man.  It’s totally bomb.”  Then I’d have to respond with “Yes, I agreed.  I’ve been there 7 times.”  Hopefully those were isolated incidents.  Now I’m off to plan my adventures for the next couple days!