August 17, 2008

Back, And The Same As Ever

It's been a while since I wrote something here, so I decided it was time to bother the world again. I actually HAVE been busy, though. Most of the last month's weekends were either spent with Ben Schneider (he of the Ben Schneider Memorial Potlucks fame), or celebrating Mother's Day. Yep, Mother's Day is August 15th in Coast Tasty. It's kind of the same principle as in the U.S., but the result is pretty different (I'll give you a hint: It's all about the women gossiping and drinking wine in the kitchen, while the men fill up on beer in the living room. Basically, it's just like Father's Day here, except that it ostensibly honors the other parent).
I also tried to make some Oatmeal Raisin Cookies to take to my mother-in-law. I usually make Oatmeal Chocolate Chip, but I didn't have any chocolate chips, so I decided to turn to Betty Crocker for a new recipe. Well, that bitch Betty is a liar. For some reason (I'm guessing too much heat or too little flour), they spread out too much and were still goey. I don't know how many times I said "Motherfucking cookies!" the other day. Well, I guess I do: probably about 6 times. One way or the other, if you have a good recipe for this fine delicacy, pass it on my way. I'm at about the same altitude as Colorado, by the way, so that might affect the recipe, too.
Anyhow, I've accumulated a few pictures from the last couple of weeks, and I decided to include them here. Also, I put up about 10 new construction pictures on the Construction Sblog, so click this link to check them out. So, let's get going:

Ben Schneider, the intrepid explorer and former Active Single. Here he is eating a granadilla, with its crunchy seeds covered in a snot-like fruit goo. Ben was actually my first college teacher, technically. The irony of that is that since he's only 2 years older than me and because he still has his hair, no one here believed that when I told them.

One weekend we went to La Fortuna and the Arenal Volcano to show Ben some of the local highlights. We saw this tree-like thing at the entrance to a hanging bridge tour. As I so eloquently said it at the time: "Man, it's just like a cluster of fucking life!"

This time we almost outdid ourselves; we made Costa Rica live up to its name when we took Benjamín "El Capitán" Eschneider to both coasts in one week. These couple of pictures are from near Esterillos, in the Central Pacific coast. In the picture above, Angela is mercilessly hunting a poor little crab. She actually was able to catch it, although she just wanted to see how deep its tunnel went.

Here I am with Ben. Now, a word about the Ben Schneider Memorial Potlucks. When I lived with my friend Himal Shrestha in college, we decided to have a potluck. Ben was a teacher for both of us, so we invited him. He said he'd come, but he didn't. So, we dubbed the potluck the First Annual Ben Schneider Memorial Potluck. A few months later, we held the Second Annual Ben Schneider Memorial Potluck, which Ben awkwardly came to (awkwardly, because he was still alive, contrary to the potluck's title). Over the years, many events have been dubbed Ben Schneider Memorial Potlucks, and Ben made it to most of them. That's why I say he's a good man.

A beach in Cahuita, in the Limón province, which forms Costa Rica's Caribben coast. Oh, what? Another perfect beach? Sure, I guess I'll take a picture. Ho hum. (Yawn).

Angela, once again watching the little crabs with the steely death stare of a hunter. No wonder those little things run so fast!

Ben Schneider, doing what Ben Schneider does best: Kicking ass and NOT taking names (Why take names if you've so thoroughly kicked someone's ass that coming back to kick more ass would be superfluous and overkill?)

Ben Schneider, doing the other thing Ben Schneider does best: Stealing your woman. In fact, while you're wasting time reading this crap, he just ran off with your ol' lady.

Angela and Ben taking a snooze on Playa Negra, near Cahuita and Puerto Viejo. Limón has a somewhat bad reputation among Costa Ricans, mainly because there's a perceived high level of crime. But in a country of 4 million people where every robbery seems to make it to the national paper, that perception is easily affected. I, for one, felt completely safe wandering around the streets of Puerto Viejo, despite the annoyances of pot dealers trying to sell their wares to you. But that happens in many places around the world.
Actually, the only "altercation" we noticed was when the three of us were walking back to our hostel called Pagalu (check out the link; it's a good hostel, and the German owners are cool). As we were walking back, in the middle of the street we noticed a skanky-looking lady in a bra yelling at two American-looking guys. My theory was that she was a hooker, and that the guys had made a joke about her or something. Either way, she was trying to shove them and yelling something like, "Don't you fuck with me or I'll fight you! I'll fight you like a man!" We kind of steered clear of her and walked to the side of the street, where a local guy was watching the whole scene. He gave us our favorite quote of the whole trip: "That bitch is fucking crazy...hey, you guys wanna buy some ganja?"
Eyes on the prize, man.

Above you can see some weird painted palm trees on the road back home from Limón. Getting back home was much easier than getting there. Man, getting there sucked. You'd think that in a country that has two or three main roads, that those roads would be easier to find. But you'd be very, very wrong. The day before I left, I asked all of my students how to get to the road to Limón. The disparities between their answers bordered on comical, and one guy even advised me to "follow the cars" after I "got to San José."
One way or the other, though, we got back fine. Angela and I think it was because we both held our breath and made the same wish when we passed through the Zurqui tunnel: We wished that we'd not get lost in San José. And wouldn't you know it, but we got lost for only about 10 seconds, and then I just decided to follow a random Hyundai who was driving faster than all the other cars nearby. Sure enough, after about 10 minutes of winding San José roads and alleys, the street crapped us out onto the main highway to San Ramón! Maybe you just do have to "follow the cars."
Anyhow, I've got a few more automatic updates coming through this next week or two, so please stay tuned in. Thanks for reading!

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6 comments:

Angie said...

Nice pictures. Limon. Yeah. I've only been there like twice in my entire life. All I can remember is that it was too freaking humid for my diva self. ;)

Also, you make Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies and don't bring squat to work? And here I am sharing with you delicious delicacies Pam gets me from Limon. So wrong, Sitzman. So wrong. :p

Sitzman said...

Hey, like I said, the cookies sucked. That's why they're called "Motherfucking cookies!!"
Most of them I just crumbled up and ate as cereal.
Don't worry, I'll try to bring something to work some day.
--Ryan

Angie said...

LOL. Don't worry. I was just teasing. Crumbled cookies with your cereal and coffee with ice cream. What's next? :p

Jennifer said...

"Follow the cars" generally gets you un-lost around here too. Trying to look at a map or read street signs just messes you up since most streets are one-way (changing direction every few months)! And in response to your more recent post about spelling, my name is Dieniffer in these parts.
Jennifer (Pape) Terry

Sitzman said...

Jennifer,
That's definitely a weird spelling. Also, at least they try to have street signs there. For some reason, that never occurred to anyone here.

KER said...

I know I'm commenting really late, but use the recipe from Quaker Oatmeal. And it helps to chill your dough before you bake.