Still at the dentist when the last bus to Puerto Viejo pulled out at 4:00. Shit another day in San Jose.
Signs in English
Price Mart Membership Shopping, Payless Shoe Source, McDonald’s,Kentucky Fried Chicken, Sherwin Williams Paint Covers the World, Wendys, Best Brands, Taco Bell,
Fight House Martial Arts, Dupont Assurance of Quality, Jessica’s Furniture, Subway, Purdy Motor, Popeyes, Louisana Kitchen. Dr. Robert Veterinary Hospital, Catering Services…..
I get a cab.
An English speaking announcer on the radio, Men down under followed by the Guess Who. The cabbie sings along.
I have entered a parallel universe.
Turn down a side streat. 1″ square bars 10 feet tall every four inches around every house front back and sides. Topped by razor wire. Some signs saying the fences are electrified.
A cabbie who doesn’t know north from south.
The address of the hotel is
Jose Maria Zeledon
From La Kabana Bar
100 Meters South
200 Meters East
The taxi driver screams at people in the street asking where this bed and breakfast is.
Nobody knows. It’s a house, there is no sign. How would they know? In English he screams… “Jesus f..king Christ” oh, the chino won’t know anything.
After an hour of listening to him bitch I had him pull over. I politely asked somebody which way was north. I told the cabbie to turn right. Turn right again. There it is.
Up at 5:30. What’s that? Two hours sleep? Great.
Yougurt. Bananas. Coffee.
Hail a cab. “Necessito Embassy Estados Unidos”.
He brought me to an Embassy Suites. Ahh. Shit.
Called three people to translate. No answer.
“gubernamental Estados Unidos para pasaporte”
Delivered to the correct location.
Grab a number. Wait. Numbers “Now serving 811 at window 6, now serving 913 at window 13, now serving 207 at window 3. There are only two windows reserved for American Citizens and nobody is being taken care of at either window. I walk up to one that said it was serving 712. It’s said this for that last 8 minutes. If Mr. 712 doesn’t want to avail himself of the opportunity I will.
30 seconds later I signed my passport and a blank sheet of paper that indicated I had received my passport. Umm, a blank sheet of paper? Whatever.
For this I had spend how many hours on the road? 18?
Stop at credit union. I couldn’t get the girls attention. In walked Carlos, the incredibly handsome taxi driver. Every woman in the place immediately came over to see how they could be of assistance. What? If you wire money to a bank in Panama from outside the country they take 15% of the money? Residency requirements stipulate $300,000 the bank would charge $45,000 for a wire? That can’t be right. Two phone calls later, yup it is. Whoa!
Yamaha shop. $224 for a prop I bought a few months earlier at the same shop for $154. But they don’t even have it.
Back to hotel to get laptop. Stop at the fish market in Casco Viejo and hog out on huge servings of concha negro (black conch( $2.25 and corvina (sea bass). The hot sauce was in a squeeze bottle like the kind ketchup would be served from in a diner. The nozzle was clogged. I squeezed harder. There was a hot sauce explosion. Carlos, the counter, the server, another customer and I were all a hot sauce mess.
Off to Luna’s castle to get the laptop which has survived an incredible amount of abuse only to have the keyboard bezel destroyed by the last idiot was going to replace my keyboard for me. The people at Sony told me I could give them $29 and in a month they would tell me what was wrong with it and give me an estimate. The keyboad needs to be replaced. Just sell me the part. They told me it would be $60 and that it includes the bezel. No it doesn’t. I have looked the part up online. You want $80 to install the keyboard. Christ, I’ll do it myself or take it to a chino who will do it for $5.
Oh, tell with it all, I’ll just silicone the bezel.
Back to Luna’s Castle. Grab my stuff. Drop me off at the mall. I replaced my fanny pack with a multi compartmented case. This one is carried on the side, like a holster. Oh, it has a gun pouch, it is a holster. Awesome. What time is it? Five. It’s what? Six hours to David? This is not a direct bus, add in a couple of hours. I’ll be there at two.
I walked to the end of the line. Screw this! The hot, smelly, poisonous diesel fumes rolled over the pavement and into my face. I move up past the exhaust and signalled the girl who was ahead of me in line to join me. “You have an assigned seat, no point in breathing that.” We chatted. I asked her where she was going. “Nobody has ever heard of it. Santa Fe.” “Veraguas, an hour north of Santiago.” She looked amazed. “Tell Stephanie I said hi.” “Who is Stephanie?” “She’s the tall blonde dutch woman who runs the hostel you are staying at.” “Where am I staying?” “La Quia” Her eyebrows went up. “There is only one other place to stay in town and that is Tierra Libra, run Sinet from Cambodia with her husband Marnix from Holland but they have moved out of the old place and the new place isn’t finished yet.” Then I gave her the names and occupations of every non indian in town. A quick rundown on the best waterfalls and hikes. Told her about Guabal a non tourist destination and how you ride up there jammed cheek to cheek with Indians in the back of a covered pickup truck with benches. Further, Rio Luis, the only time I was there I walked through knee deep mud for four hours. Then Colovebera, the cocaine smuggling spot between Colon and Costa Rica and gave here the names of several locals. “Why don’t you come with me?” “Sorry girl, I have to leave the country.” We exchanged email addresses. Who knows maybe she’ll write. I’ll probably drop her a line, see how she liked my recommendations.
Call the Purple House, no answer sent them an email. The bus was frigid. Strange enounters at the internet cafe.
9:00 Santiago. Three hours without a movie or music. That was very nice.
2:00 David. A taxi ride. Here’s your bed. Here are your sheets. You don’t even put the sheets on the mattress. Whatever. Doesn’t matter how nice the place is I won’t be concious for long. To bed at 3:30.
Wednesday
Up at 6:30. Email to my dentist in San Jose. Two large coffees. Taxi to terminal. Meatballs for breakfast. Cereal and eggs not an option. Two more coffes.
Notes are italicized. Maybe I will flesh out later. I doubt it.
8:10 Depart. Five pages of notes just skipped.
10:20 Stop for ten minutes.
10:55 Take off, that was a long ten minutes/.
12:30 Field of trash.
David to Changuinola is $9.70.
12:42 Arrived in Changuinola
Immigracion office. The guy had no clue. He called the woman who issued my travelling papers.
“Go to lunch.”
Ok, I lunched.
Returned to office. Document
She is back but working ever so slowly hand crafting a document for people who had queued up before me while I had my lunch. You need three more copies of the police report? Why didn’t you tell me that two days ago when I made myself a copy? The cripple walked with me, I don’t know why. He found a pharmacy only 8 blocks away. When I went by myself I went to one three blocks away. Whatever. Yeah and give me a color photocopy of my passport. I paid a $105 fine for over staying my visit for 45 days and was told to head out of the country.
2:30 Off to Guabito
Half an hour later and $8 shorter I was at the border control point. Strange. The crime report that I was told was needed was not wanted at the embassy, not immigration nor at the border. I got my stamp for my $3 exit fee and went to passport control. He looked at it. Looked at the receipt for the fine and got on the phone. Nothing is easy. He waved me into the office. The woman back in Changuinola told me that she had made a mistake and that….. Damn. No, no, no. You can go, but you have to come back to the office and get the corrected receipts. Why? What am I going to do with them? I don’t care. No, you have to get them. And do what with them? Then you’ll have the correct ones. Ayaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Walk Bridge.
4:00 Mepe
4:58 Puerto Viejo
5:30 44 clicks to Colon
6:15 Break
6:35 Resume
7:34 Squirres
9:13 San Jose
9:47 Marias
“How is Margot?” I just shook my head. I don’t want to go there.
Up past midnight
Thursday
My hostess, Maria insisted on doing my laundry. I had planned to be out overnight and had a change of underwear, socks and shirt. Between the hot sauce and a hot bus neither shirt was fit to be worn. She insisted that she take all my clothes, gave me her sons pants and shirt, which amazingly fit me quite well and did all my laundry. No charge.
My notebook charger was back in Bocas. Using the much more pleasant larger screen system of Marias I took a raw machine I lease over the internet, loaded some CMS software, a couple of extensions and wrote a website while my dentist kept changing my appointment time. Who am I to bitch, he took me on a day’s notice and he is going to whiten my teeth free of charge using a technique that goes for about $600 in the states. The last schedule change made my appointment at 2:00 the taxi driver appeared at 1:30. He asked about my son Karl. “When is he coming back?” “No se.” And the chica? God, why does everybody have to remind me? Otro. Mucho otro. He laughed. I didn’t.
Teeth cleaned and whitened by a pleasant girl and her amazingly hot assistant if you disregard the tatoos. Off to the bus terminal. I have a girl to meet in Puerto Viejo tomorrow.
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When setting up a new PC, www.ninite.com will save a big chunk of time.
Malwarebytes and Microsoft Security Essentials will get rid of just about any virus/malware on a computer.
Now what?
Of course I had to convey the girls to the mandatory trip to one of the most spectacular beaches on the the Caribbean. Oh yeah, a container full of boats. A proclamation that my house would not be rented. Thanks, asshole.
Jonathan Allen LaFleur