The Long Road to San Jose

I left Puerto Viejo on the rainiest day so far, the back of my pants covered in mud from the 20 minute walk to the bus terminal.  By ‘terminal’ I mean two benches next to a food stand that sold patties–delicious savory pastries with a spicy filling.  I was drenched, but ate two patties before hopping on the bus, a ride to San Jose that should take about 4.5 hours.  30 minutes later we were on the side of the road, waiting for a new bus– engine failure.  “Es normal” the bus driver informs us, and then makes fun of the girl next to me for being so pink.  “What is he saying?” she asked.  Oh, nothing, just noticing your sunburn.  The bus driver mimes the peeling of skin.

I like other travelers.  Who are these people that use all their sick time to spend a month in Costa Rica?  Or the college students who skip the last few days of the semester to eek out a little more time abroad?  Or the guy that graduated from college and decided to volunteer for a year, helping school kids with their math?  It’s rare to find them back home, but on the road, it’s impossible not to run into someone kicking ass in some unexpected way.

For an hour and a half, I talked to these very people, standing underneath a small roadside shelter, watching as one by one they compared travel stories, where they’d been, where they’d be going next.  Two girls from Maine were teaching English in San Jose, part of a semester abroad program. Someone had just completed a home stay immersion program in Costa Rica, and we compared notes on our host moms (yes, they are all that overprotective, and likely to overfeed you).  Someone else was a commercial fisherman from Seattle who traveled in the off season, because it was cheaper than living at home. We were dripping wet, but in good spirits and soon enough a new bus roared down the road.  The seats were so small that I had to fold my legs awkwardly to fit in my seat, but I was finally dry and on my way to San Jose.

There is a gringo trail, and I keep finding myself on it.  It’s easier, definitely– the buses run more regularly, there are more hostels, the shops have western foodstuffs like curry or feta cheese (in addition to the local fare) and for me, most importantly, there is internet.  I have said this phrase so many times, it’s not funny: “Hay internet?*“  It’s like my greeting these days, right after a hearty, “Buenas” I get down to business.  It’s not unusual to be researching a place and not find a single hotel with Wifi.  It’s difficult to use internet cafes, because I’m stuck using their PCs.  But if you plan around it, it’s fine.  I won’t be hacking through the jungle with a machete anytime soon (or at least until someone invents an ever-lasting computer battery and portable satellite internet that I can afford).  But seriously, I can’t complain.

The ride to San Jose is quite nice.  There are parts that look exactly how you expect Costa Rica to look.  Broad palm fronds, expanses of that succulent green, tiny waterfalls formed down the black rock that had been carved away to make way for the road.  Then you hit San Jose, and you forget where you are.  This is Costa Rica?  This sprawling urban mess with dirty streets and shifty men eying your backpack when they think you’re not looking?

I arrived at the Hostel, and there was a police car outside.  Two British kids had been robbed.  Someone climbed up the building and pulled their things through an open window.   I went to the gate and the full time guard at the hostel looked at me through a peep hole, then slid open the massively thick wooden door with cast iron grates.  Hmm, if they are that concerned about the people on the outside, maybe I should stay in?

It’s not fair to sum San Jose up as one thing or another based on a few observations.  If I was on assignment I would have stayed.  There’s a great market and some architecture I wanted to check out.  It took me almost 6 hours to get there, and I couldn’t wait to leave. The next day, it was back on the trail, this time, to a little beach town gone bad:  Jaco.

*Hay is pronounced like the English word eye.  Hay is one of the best Spanish words to learn if you’re traveling.  Hay un bano, Hay un menu, Hay una cama (Is there a bathroom, menu, bed).  Very useful.