Grace and Peace from our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ
We just spent about ten days over in Costa Rica thereby fulfilling our obligation to leave Honduras every 90 days. What a totally different feeling! It is a modern, clean, friendly country with drop-dead gorgeous scenery. Although I never been to Switzerland, the carefully cultivated mountainsides and breathtaking vistas in Costa Rica reminded me of the photos I’ve seen of it. We stayed in what is known as an apartotel (combination apartments/hotel) with a nice inner courtyard centered around a pool. It was a small place in a quiet residential neighborhood. The girls luxuriated in their new surroundings. They enjoyed hot showers, microwave popcorn and eating gourmet grilled pizza while watching movies on TV for a couple of days. We shopped in the central market for some much-needed clothing. Both Bethany and Chaela (the “startled stork”- that’s Gabrielle’s new nickname for her) have grown out of many of their clothes. I rented a car, much to Karen’s dismay, and we got up early to drive to a nearby volcano (Poás if you’re looking on a map). From the capital, San Jose, the winding road climbs non-stop for over an hour and half up to nearly 9,000 feet. Along the way we passed coffee plantations and strawberry fields clinging to steep mountainsides. Cows grazed along the roadside as we passed through pine forests and tidy little villages. Farmers wearing knee-length black rubber boots, their hoes slung over their shoulders, headed out to the crops. The road to the volcano ends in a parking lot of the national park built to protect Poás. From there you walk along a paved pathway to a wooden platform overlooking the volcano. Dirty white sulfuric plumes of smoke rise up in various places around the crater’s lake. The air is so toxic that within minutes everyone is coughing. It’s not overpowering just irritating. On a clear day it is said one can see both the Caribbean and the Pacific from here. Although it was sunny, clouds were rolling in off the Caribbean. From the platform a narrow trail leads through the dwarf cloud forest to an extinct crater lake. What I noticed on this forty- minute walk through the woods was the complete absence of songbirds. I attributed this to the sulfur fumes. By the time we left the park, the clouds had rolled in and the temperature was the coldest we had felt since leaving the States. We quickly descended out of the clouds and back into the warm sunshine on the Pacific side of the mountain. Not knowing where to stop for lunch, we asked one of the farmers strolling along. We were directed to a delightful chalet overlooking the valley spreading out far below. We were surprised by the quantity and quality of the food until we remembered that we eating (at noon) the main meal of the day. After lunch we drove to a waterfall where you can walk behind the plummeting waters. Chittenango Falls is much bigger so it was nothing great in our spoiled eyes.
San Jose is surrounded by mountains. Early the next morning we took a elightful flight over the mountains down to the southwest corner of the country. The plane climbs high enough to just barely clear these mountains before beginning a slow descent all the way down to sea level. Through the plane’s huge oversized windows, we could look out over the coffee plantations and the fields we had driven through the previous day. Gabrielle remarked that she counted something like 16 soccer fields in the course of our short 30-minute flight. The last few minutes of the flight are flown over the ocean parallel to the coastline. When the plane suddenly turns inland, there is no landing strip in sight, only mountainous jungle. Being a pilot, I unbuckled my seatbelt to catch a glimpse of what we’re going to land on. What I see is not for the faint of heart. A very short, narrow strip of dirt bordered on either side by rainforest, terminates at one end in the ocean and at the other end in a mountain. I appreciate the fact that we’re landing in the direction of the ocean. The plane is down and stopped in less than half the length of the strip. Two old, battered Toyota Landcruisers wait for us when disembark. I am shocked as I watch the pilot depart downwind, heading right for the mountain. I’m equally surprised when I see that the plane is airborne within about 500 feet and high above the mountain when it passes overhead.
Glimmering in the morning sun out in Drake Bay is a giant white yacht like the ones in the James Bond movies. The two Toyota “taxis” rattle and shake as we meander over the jungle path back towards the water’s edge. A tiny fishing village emerges from the undergrowth. Smiling faces, men repairing nets under the palms, lazy waves breaking on the dark sand and the humid heat all say “slow down” to the haggard travelers from the U.S. who’ve joined us. Just looking at their faces causes me to give thanks to the Lord for the peace He’s allowed us to enjoy in Honduras. We roll up our pants before boarding the small launch that will drive us over to La Paloma Lodge. The dock is tucked away in a corner of the bay at the mouth of a small river. It is a very steep, very humid walk up to the top of the hill where the open-air restaurant/clubhouse of the Lodge is located. It’s something right of Casablanca—large ceiling fans, wicker furniture covered with white and green colored pillows, toucans and scarlet macaws zooming by at eye level, the azure waters of the Pacific crashing on the beach far below, and the noise of the rainforest everywhere. A young American Katie (the daughter of the owners), greets us with a warm smile. She moves so slowly and is so mellow that you can tell she’s lived here a long time—23 years in fact. She hands each of us a brightly colored sarong telling us that they’re used here instead of beach towels as a way to conserve water. The first time I see Karen in one I fall in love all over again. As we head to our bungalow we pass giant blue butterflies, lizards and screaming parrots. The rainforest just teems with abundant life. Katie apologizes that our view of the ocean is practically unobstructed as a result of a giant tree being toppled in a sudden rainstorm two weeks ago. She is sad, saying that it was one of the local monkeys’ favorite trees. Practically the entire ocean side of the bungalow is comprised of windows with no screens. It occurs to me we might be joined by some monkeys in the middle of the night. Judging by the look on Karen’s face, I sense she’s thinking the same thing.
We quickly change into our swimsuits and head back up to the pool. Thank God it’s very well hidden in the shade of the trees, keeping the water at a perfect temperature. Only the sundeck, literally built out over the treetops, protrudes into the intense sun of the tropics. After playing in the pool for a couple of hours, I take the girls down to the ocean for their first swim ever in the Pacific. Unfortunately only later did I realize we ended up at the wrong beach. We swam but I quickly realized it was quite dangerous. The strong tide and attendant currents threatened to throw us up on the hidden rocks. When we left the water I went exploring and found the correct swimming beach.
Early the next morning I set out by myself to search for monkeys. From my days in both Paraguay and Gabon, I had an idea of what to look for. About twenty minutes later I came across a family of spider monkeys having breakfast in some nearby treetops. It is a pleasure to observe how playful and affectionate they are. Monkeys stretch to incredible lengths to grasp food. It makes me wonder what our bodies would be capable of if we were to stretch like that each day. Late that same day we all headed up the river in kayaks to explore more of the jungle. Everyone loved it. It’s a great way for a family to travel. Unfortunately upstream we ran into a series of rapids making it impossible for us to continue. The rocks were quite jagged and none of us wore proper footwear. The good news is we had great fun running the rapids on the way back. Instead of heading in, we proceeded out into the ocean. The sensation of being lifted up by the ocean swells in a tiny kayak is exhilarating.
Delicious dinners were served family style with all the guests seated around two or three tables. There were only about twenty to thirty guests and this method forced everyone to get acquainted. We met some truly delightful people. A doctor of nuclear medicine from the University of Tucson and his wife, a nurse and current administrator at the same hospital, are avid birdwatchers. He has been literally all over the world looking at birds. We met an interesting couple from the Florida Keys who have scuba dived all over the world. There was a wonderful Jewish family from New York, Arthur and Abbey Eshaghpour (Persian for “Son of Isaac”), along with their three little kids. Arthur was born in Iran. His family immigrated to New York just before the Shah was overthrown in the early 1970s. He runs a decorative stone company importing beautiful stones from all over the world.
We spent one day on a guided tour of the rainforest in the Corcovado national park. Bethany will be writing about this in the very near future. Gabrielle will be writing about the Lodge in more detail. Chaela will be writing about our snorkeling trip. Karen has already posted her impressions of our bug tour--a highlight of the trip.
God willing, we’ll be heading to Florida on June 7th. We plan to spend a few days in Sarasota with Karen’s family before arriving in Syracuse around midnight Sunday, June 12th. The girls are very excited about returning home. The same cannot be said for Karen. Just the other night she said to me, “You know, I’m really going to miss this place.” Me too.
We continue to see God’s strong right hand upon our lives here. Our hearts are filled with thanksgiving.
Shalom,
Br. Eddie
<< Home