A Day at the Market, and Another at the Farm

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Yesterday I was a bit uncomfortable. We stayed up late drinking wine (damn Henry and his DJing), and everyone was sluggish when we woke up. Food was running low, so Robert gave us some money to go purchase produce at the farmer's market that was going on in town. We all went, and the walk doubled as a last goodbye for Alex.

We got to the market, and Alex said that he had to carry on to the bus station. The girls cried, the guys hugged, and off he went. He has more work lined up down in Panama, but plans to party on Costa Rica's Caribbean side first. I wish I could go.

Anyways, the girls were pretty upset, so they got beer and cigarettes and we literally sat around the park for a few hours after the produce shopping was finished. Then we heard drums, and walked to a different park to watch Tico highschoolers doing a drumline. This was all really cool, observing the culture and stuff, but I felt extremely guilty. Robert Roman is feeding us and giving us shelter so that we will do work on his farm, and two of the four days that I had been there, no work had been done. I thought that for sure Robert would at least reprimand us.

Interestingly, he did not. I am beginning to believe that teaching others to farm is more of a hobby of his, and that he certainly doesn't rely on our efforts in any way. We arrived back at the farm and all began cooking a delicious dinner. I was in the middle of kneading some bread when Robert walked in. I kind of tensed up, expecting at least a bit of trouble, but instead we started talking about baking bread. He told me about how other WOOFers had built a clay oven out back, and said that when certain ingredients have grown we should make pizza out there. Somehow we began discussing a huge pit that is towards the back of his property. At one point, according to Robert, he had an enormous amount of volunteers on the farm. A few of them jokingly offered to dig a secret tunnel to the river (an impossible task), and Robert told them to go right ahead. They proceeded to dig a tunnel 18 feet deep. Thus, I decided, this farm is certainly not for profit. Exactly what it is for and how Robert finances it remains to be seen.

Today was much more productive. I woke at around 6:45, ate breakfast, and then cleaned dishes for an hour (we had cooked a ton and not cleaned). I then planted cilantro and lemongrass. Cornelius, the farm's roaming rooster, tramples our herbs, so we chopped up bamboo with our machetes and created a little fence. After, battled the jungle with a weed-whacker, dug some vegetable beds, and called it a day.

I decided to bike the La Universidad Para La Paz (The University of Peace), an international university set up by the United Nations on the outskirts of Ciudad Colon. So I took the farm's bike, and soon realized that I had totally underestimated the task. In the hills and mountains of Ciudad Colon, 15 kilometers can seem more like 50 kilometers. The road twisted down incredibly steep hills (or small mountains) only to narrow at a one-lane wooden bridge over a river, then curving just as steeply back up the hill. I was absolutely exhausted by the time I reached the University. As I approached I saw a gate, and realized that I had naively assumed that Universities here were as open-access as the ones in the State's. I talked to the guard, and he said that I would have to come back when classes are in session during the week because I don't have an ID. It would have been a bummer, but the view of San Jose from that height was incredible, and it was a good workout.

On the way back I stopped in town, practiced Spanish with a juice vender, and sat in the park watching the town's Sunday proceedings. I decided that this may be one of the nicest towns that I have ever seen. The central area is constantly bustling with activities, children run around giggling and free, and teenagers juggle and play music in the park area. Venders sell chicken and drinks to passerbys, and mom-and-pop shops are the norm because enormous soul-eating chain stores haven't yet poisoned their economy. Church bells echo off of the surrounding green hills every hour. Walking through town, one is greeted with smiles and nods. Even the parts of town that are less well-to-do are not threatening in the least because the people seem to have what they need and are happy.

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Comments

[Mom]

perfect
Sounds amazing--keep the updates coming.