I'm smiling at the story I can tell... "Yeah, we didn't catch anything..." when suddenly I feel a tugging on my line. "¡Tira, tira!" Jordan yells. So I pull. I'm not reeling anything in- there's no reel, so I just yank up on the bamboo shoot and pull the line out of the water. To my utter amazement, there is a fish, flopping around on my line. 
He's definitely still alive. For some reason, I thought the hook would just kill him, but I guess that doesn't really make sense, now that I think about it. I'm enough of a girl, and at enough of a loss of what to do now, that I decide to follow my instincts, and I scream. Fabián laughs, but Jordan comes to my rescue. 
He wrestles the slippery, flopping fish off the line, and pulls back on the head to kill it. This makes my stomach churn a little, but at least now he's out of his misery, right?
Allie is watching the whole ordeal, and decides she's seen enough. No fishing for her. But something in me wants some company (misery loves company, right?...okay, maybe it's not that bad...) so I convince her that she at least needs to put her line in the water so we can take a picture and have proof that we went fishing. At long last, she complies. 
And as we snap a few shots, there is a tug on her line. "I knew it!", she exclaims. She pulls, and we all gasp at the huge fish she has caught. Her face is priceless.
That's probably what everyone was thinking about me a few moments ago. We go through a similar process and with two fish in our bucket, we've had enough. We settle down to watch the others, and are pleased to note that Kimberly is not a whole lot more comfortable with the whole thing than we were. We snap a few shots with her face scrunched up and tongue sticking out as she pulls in a few fish. 
This helps us feel not quite as silly, but at the same time, most everyone around seems to be doing alright. We have someone else clean our fish, and put them on ice so we can take them home and...cook them...(I can handle fillets no problem, but cooking a whole fish?...this will be interesting).
And as we snap a few shots, there is a tug on her line. "I knew it!", she exclaims. She pulls, and we all gasp at the huge fish she has caught. Her face is priceless. That's probably what everyone was thinking about me a few moments ago. We go through a similar process and with two fish in our bucket, we've had enough. We settle down to watch the others, and are pleased to note that Kimberly is not a whole lot more comfortable with the whole thing than we were. We snap a few shots with her face scrunched up and tongue sticking out as she pulls in a few fish. This helps us feel not quite as silly, but at the same time, most everyone around seems to be doing alright. We have someone else clean our fish, and put them on ice so we can take them home and...cook them...(I can handle fillets no problem, but cooking a whole fish?...this will be interesting).Now, maybe this whole thing is just proof that Allie and I really are girly girls, despite the fact that we fancy ourselves out-doorsey. But it really has me thinking. I remember the lettering on a package of chicken breasts I was preparing back home that said "grown in California". I'm not a farmer, but I do know that you don't grow chickens. Somehow, though, it sounded better than raised- it helped me feel farther away from the fact that the chicken I was getting ready to cook had once been a living, breathing, clucking thing. It almost made the meat seem like a vegetable. In Costa Rica things from the meat markets with whole chickens and the fish with their heads still on, to, most recently, our fishing experience, it is clear that people here aren't so afraid to get close to the source of their food. This is probably really healthy. Pretending that meat is a plant can't be good for you. I've stumbled upon a stark cultural contrast. Back home we go to great lengths to separate ourselves from the process of raising, slaughtering, and butchering meat. Here it is still a part of life, and people don't seem to spend much time worrying about its unpleasantness. Jordan wasn't afraid to touch the fish (or kill the fish, for that matter)- it was just part of the process. I will admit that it freaked me out a bit to get close to that process, but I feel like it is something so normal that so many people do, and that my own culture has blinded me to. Maybe I'm learning more about myself than anything else, but I guess that's a big reason we seek to understand others. I got a lot more than I expected out of a little fishing trip. I wonder what I'll learn from cooking them...
We drove through some gorgeous places and crossed a bridge to the Nicoya peninsula, and headed down to Samara, a beach town on the south-west corner of the peninsula. Francella's aunt has a house there that they don't live in any more that is literally a block from the beach, and it was great! We arrived, basically dumped our stuff, and headed for the beach.
By that time, though, it was getting dark (it gets dark at 6:00 here, every night), so we went for a little moon-light walk on the beach, and then headed to a little restaurant to eat. The coolest thing about Samara was its authenticity. It is not very touristy, and the beach is fairly empty. It was beautiful, though, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves. 
Some highlights were the wild horses on the beach, swinging from vines, and the many batidos that we drank at the restaurant that faces the beach. Mmmm... 
We spent all of Tuesday playing in the water, putting on sunscreen, walking down the beach, 
putting on sunscreen, taking a boat ride,
putting on sunscreen, exploring a deserted island with huge lizards and thousands of crabs,
putting on sunscreen, snorkeling, putting on sunscreen...it was beautiful. Francella had brought her grill, so we made a visit to the little store, and then to the carniceria, and then packed up the van to head to another beach nearby. We set up, and had a beach barbecue that was amazing! 
We had to wash our produce in the ocean, but don't worry- we cooked most of it.
We even introduced Francella to make-shift s'mores, and we sang hymns under the stars. And got bit by beach fleas. But most of it was as wonderful as it sounds. Wednesday morning I woke up early (not so much because I'm a morning person...more because my feet were really itchy) and decided to go to the beach for some scripture reading. It was so peaceful...me and the waves, and the occasional group of school children walking to school. Across the beach. I don't know how that sounds to you, but to me it sounds a lot better than uphill both ways. When I got back we packed up and cleaned up, and headed north to Tamarindo, where we had reserved rooms at the Diria Resort. It was a little pricey, but it was beautiful! Pool, beach front, air conditioning, free welcome cocktails (we got virgin piña coladas), as many clean towels as you can use. 
It was fantastic. We played in the water (pool-ocean-pool-ocean), walked around the funky beach town (this place was a lot more touristy), and read poetry from the lawn chairs.
That night we basked in an incredible sunset, and Allie and I headed out for one last dip in the salt water, which was orange and purple under the sky.
We decided we were already paying the resort enough for our rooms, so we skipped the restaurant and headed into town for some dinner at what a kind dread-locked young man told us was one of the only inexpensive restaurants in town. He was right, but it was still great food, and even better batidos. After dinner and a little more exploring, the boys decided to turn in for the night. We (the girls) decided we wanted some ice cream, and that began our adventure on the town. We went to TCBY, which turned out to be closed, but which, under our feminine influence, opened again to serve us some ice cream. As we walked down the main street in town, we were approached several times and informed of various ladies nights going on, to which we responded that we didn't drink. This was generally followed by strange looks, and turned out to be a pretty effective way to keep strange men from continuing their conversations with us. We decided to go to a place where they had a live salsa band to try out our dancing skills, and we were successful! .jpg)
The band was amazing, and the place was packed with about half tourists, half locals.
We all got a little dancing in and had a great time before heading back to our hotel/resort. Allie and I thought we would top it all off with one final swim in the pool, and approached the pool, only to find that it had closed at 10:00, and it was quarter after 11:00. Fortunately, our feminine charms worked again, and we were given permission to swim "as long as we weren't too loud". We complied with the quiet requirement until we got the crazy idea to climb the rock wall that rose out of one end of the pool to another pool/fountain (that was purely decorative). One triple-dog-dare later, Allie was climbing the rocks and relaxing into the fountain with the clever plan to reply "Oh, you can't swim in here? I'm so sorry!" to the inevitable rebuke from the guards. Unfortunately, the water splashing into the fountain from the concrete fishies mouths was making such a racket that they didn't even notice Allie sink into the fountain, stretching out and sighing, "ahhhh...". She sat there for a few minutes while I laughed so hard I nearly woke up the entire resort, and then we headed back to our room. (Here she is with the fountain the next morning.)
That night I think I slept better than I have the entire time I've been in Costa Rica, but unfortunately my slumber was interrupted at about 6am when Doug banged on the door and asked why I was still asleep. Hmm...I didn't think that was a very hard question to answer, but I humored them, and got dressed. We ate as much as we possibly could at breakfast (it was included in the price of room, and we had to get our money's worth)
and then packed the van and headed back to good old San José. 
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We soaked up the sun, climbed the coconut trees, played in the crystal blue water, ate fish with the tails and fins still attached. It'll be interesting to see if anything tops it. 
One more country down. We were there for about an hour, and then commenced our flight back to San José (finally). That was the flight mentioned in the article...for those of you who are not Spanish speakers or readers, there was a problem with the wings- they wouldn't open up to slow the plane down while in flight, so we circled around a few times (I thought it was probably bad weather again, though it looked clear outside), and eventually we made an emergency landing. Since the plane couldn't slow down in the air at all, we landed at full speed, and then screeched to a stop, just in time. There were firemen and firetrucks and red cross members awaiting our arrival. 
Fortunately we were all okay, thanks to the skill of our pilot. It was a pretty incredible experience- problems like that can often be fatal. So we're counting our blessings, and trying to remember to be grateful for each day of life.
It will air as part of a show called "Actualidad Feminina" targeted at stay-at-home moms and other women who tend to be at home in the mornings, every Monday for the next month (one segment per week). Definitely an interesting experience. No script, no preparation, just me and my Spanish on Costa Rican TV. I'm preparing myself to be stopped for autographs in the street. .JPG)
The next day was our "vacation" day, and we went to the colonial ruins of "Panama Viejo" (sacked and burned by pirates in 1621-no kidding). We drove across the "Puente de las Americas", which crosses the Panama Canal, and connects North America to South America, and then made our way to a place called the "Causeway". It is pretty much one of the most amazing places I've ever been in my life. It is a pathway built from the dirt dug out during the building of the canal through the ocean that connects the mainland to three islands. It is absolutely beautiful, and we honestly felt like we were in a postcard. 
After lunch at a really great restaurant there on the causeway, Allie and I rented bikes and rode to the islands.
We met a couple German girls on our way back who are actually living in San Jose, and we exchanged info so we can hang out there. We were fairly certain that the only thing that could have made the trip better would be to be with the loves of our lives (yet to be identified)...though maybe a decent bed could have upped it a few notches as well. When we finished our bike ride through paradise, we met up with Hermana Torrero, and she graciously rode three busses .jpg)
(the busses in Panama are called diablos rojos, and I'm pretty sure they're discarded US school buses that are painted in crazy colors and patterns by their owners) to get to the beach. 
We had a GREAT time and got in a quick swim (as if the rest of the day hadn't been enough). The sun was setting and we had the beach to ourselves. It was a breathtaking view every way you turned, and I felt so blessed to be there! 
The next day we visit the construction site of the temple in Panama. It is nearly finished on the outside, and the Angel Moroni is already on top. It was really beautiful, despite the fact that Hermano Torrero continually pointed out, that (for now) it is the world's only "blue temple". :)
After that, we went to a museum at the lochs of the Panama Canal, and then checked out the lochs themselves, and I am pleased to reoprt that they appear to be in good order.
The museum was actually really cool, and it was amazing to see what a feat for humanity the building of the canal was, and sad to think how many lives were lost. The rest of the day was filled with meetings training local leaders of the proceedure to apply for the Perpetual Education Fund. It was really cool, and I learned a lot. When we were done with the meetings that evening, we decided to head to Hard Rock Cafe, because we could.
It was so fun...there was a live band called Post, and the leader singer was a very attractive Colombian (who we met after the show). 
The only weird part was that we were "hanging out" with our specialist, Rodrigo, and Reynaldo, the coordinator of PEF for Central America...both middle-aged and married. I guess more than hanging out with them, they were our body guards...but it was definitely a different experience.
We're (in theory) headed to Costa Rica in the morning. I guess we'll see. Anyway, it has been quite a weekend. And I have now eaten fish in three Central American countries, and am thinking about retiring here someday.