Costa Rica, Jan. 2-16, 2006
Introducing ... Costa Rica with photographs, OR Joanmom's first shot at being a photo-journalist with a new digital camera!
Before I retired from a staff position at Cabrillo College in late 2004, I got wind of a study-abroad biology course being planned to Costa Rica. I immediately decided to go, even though I lacked a passport, didn’t know where Costa Rica was, and had chronic science deficit disorder.
The class, Natural History of Costa Rica, promised an “experience for those curious about tropical biology in one of the biodiversity capitals of the world.” We would stay at research reserves in wet, dry and coastal locations not readily available to tourists. We would be there two weeks in early January, and it would cost $1,600 plus tuition, books, and a few miscellaneous expenses. It would be hard to find a vacation package for such a reasonable price. This turned out to be much more than just a vacation, however. It was fascinating, it was fun, it was safe, and I even managed to understand about 80 percent of the science.
Getting the passport and locating Costa Rica on a map of Central America were easy. I figured my curious mind and determination would get me through the science deficit problem. My hopes were based on my experiences wandering around the U.S. in 2005. On an eight-month journey through 26 states, I learned that I just wanted to keep on learning. At every park, monument, museum, or planetarium, I took in as many presentations, demonstrations, and guided tours as possible and collected pounds of brochures and booklets. So I knew my mind was ready to study abroad, but what about the rest of me?
My qualms involved my eyes and my feet. After surgery for a macular hole and a cataract in one eye, I still see things a little skewed. In the other eye, floaters pop up at the most unexpected moments. Due to plantar fasciitis in both feet (inflammation of the tough tissue supporting the arches), the more I walk, the more they hurt. And lastly, I get off balance going down hills. My age, 65, was the least of my concerns – in fact, all the more reason to go on what seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime. So I ignored all of the above, packed a folding stool so I could rest my feet along the trails, really good binoculars that could be used with eyeglasses, began practicing getting up earlier (I have, after all, been retired for a year now) and went anyway.
Twenty of us flew out of San Francisco just after midnight on January 2. As we stood in line at the Taca International ticket counter, we recognized each other by the big rubber boots we had strapped onto our luggage, or were carrying, or as a last resort, wore. We’d all packed according to a list provided by the instructor, plus two unauthorized guitars and a harmonica.
Our first view of Central America was prefaced by a bright and beautiful sunrise on the approach to El Salvador where we changed planes. Our instructor, John Carothers, met us at a San Jose airport 3,660 miles from the California city with the same name. Accompanying him with a big turismo van was Don Carlos, our driver for most of our adventure.
The first thing I learned about Costa Rican culture was that Don – and Doña for a woman – are titles of respect for older men and women. Yes, I was Doña Joan, pronounced “Hone.” Throughout the trip, I also felt respect from my younger fellow students. Our group could be diagramed in the usual bell curve: a few at the right side (oldest), a few at the left side (youngest) and the rest inbetween. We also varied by occupation, race, income and level of education, but shared a concern and appreciation for the environment, and a desire to learn about a beautiful and fascinating place.
The first thing we learned, after unloading the van at our hotel in San Jose, the capital city of Costa Rica,
was about typical Costa Rican food. For me, it was love at first bite. A typical Costa Rican lunch or dinner, as served in many family-style restaurants and the dining rooms where we stayed, generally consists of white rice, black beans, a vegetable – frequently squash, salad, a slice of fried plantain (a banana-like fruit that cannot be eaten raw), and a fresh juice beverage. Lizano salsa is usually available to add a slightly piquant, slightly sweet flavor.
At the biological stations where we stayed, we became accustomed to eating beans and rice for breakfast. We were always served pico de gallo (black beans mixed with white rice), fried or scrambled eggs, slabs of delicious mild white cheese, coarse white and whole wheat bread, sometimes pancakes,
fresh juice, and flavorful Costa Rican coffee. The coffee was full-bodied without being either bitter or weak, even though it was made in large commercial urns. Mixed with sweetened cocoa powder and a little milk in a glass with ice, our do-it-yourself iced mochas were an addictive afternoon treat. At all meals, a variety of fresh, juicy, flavorful tropical fruit was available; white pineapple was a favorite.
Speaking of tropics – that’s where we were, about 10 degrees north of the Equator between Nicaragua and Panama. As explained by fellow student David Balogh, who teaches geography and meteorology at Cabrillo, this proximity to the Equator results in fast sunsets followed by sudden darkness. Sunrise is about 5:30 to 6:00 am, and sunset is about 5:30 to 6:00 pm year-round. No need for daylight savings time! Also, sunburn comes on more quickly because the sun’s ultraviolet rays are much more direct and stronger. The temperature was as consistent as the sunrise and sunset, usually in the 80s but sometimes hotter. What does vary is rainfall, and fortunately January is a dry month. Well, except in the rain forest, and we were there, in the rain. That’s why we had to bring big rubber boots and umbrellas.
Below is the most spectacular sunset I saw during this trip, over the warm Pacific Ocean at Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve at the tip of the Nicoya Peninsula.
For a country as small as Costa Rica – about one-eighth the size of California, or twice the size of Vermont – it packs in a lot of biological diversity. More species of plants and animals are in Costa Rica than any other country in the world – 10,000 plants and trees, 850 birds, 220 reptiles, and to the dismay of the squeamish, 35,000 species of insects. Why such rampant biodiversity? First, Costa Rica’s terrain is exceedingly diverse, consisting of rugged mountains and rain forests between coastal plains on both Caribbean and Pacific shores. Secondly, national parks and reserves protect 27 percent of Costa Rica’s natural resources. It has become a mecca for tropical biologists, ecologists and eco-tourists for the last 50 years. I felt privileged to be among those pilgrims.
But it wasn’t all sight-seeing for our group. Since this was a full three-unit class, and we spent most of our time at biological research stations, we crammed a lot of learning into two weeks. Our easiest assignment was a visit to Poas Volcano National Park on the way to our first outdoor classroom. Although the volcano hasn’t erupted in over a decade, the potential is evident. We smelled sulfur on our walk to the crater overlook, where we saw billowy smoke (fumeroles) rising and drifting in the wind. (See the proof below.)
This park is where I first saw epiphytes – more specifically, bromeliads – growing on branches of trees. Epiphytes get their physical support from the trees they grow on, but are not parasitic like mistletoe. They get nourishment from rainwater and decayed organic materials on the trees. Orchids and lichen are more familiar epiphytes. They choose these high perches to get more light, and to escape ground-based herbivores – animals that would nibble them to death. Below: a bromeliad in bloom, taken at Vulcan Poas National Park.
As we continued our bumpy ride through the mountains, sunshine gave way to clouds and then to a downpour, introducing us suddenly to a rain forest. We were in two vans, our luggage was on top, and the drivers had one tarp between them. Our van lost the draw for the tarp, so we quickly transferred the dampened packs inside on our laps and under our feet. Our temporary discomfort was lightened by music provided by five guys singing, a guitar and a harmonica.
We stayed at three biological research stations, two of them run by the Organization for Tropical Studies (OTS), a consortium of 63 universities and research institutions in the United States, Latin America and Australia. OTS, founded in 1963, focuses on education, research and the responsible use of natural resources in the tropics. Other visitors staying in the dorms and cottages at our first stop, La Selva, were researchers or students from universities. At our next OTS stop, Palo Verde, the only other visiting students were from Dartmouth, and at our final stop, Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve, groups such as ours visit by invitation only. Although our stays at these three reserves were pre-arranged educational experiences, the general public can sometimes visit and go on tours by going through a few hoops such as making reservations and paying fees. And of course the flora and fauna of Costa Rica are available just about everywhere to anyone who cares enough to pay attention and tote around a few books about birds, butterflies, plants and beasts.
At La Selva, tour guides led us through the jungle, acquainting us with the trees, flowers, birds, insects, butterflies, mammals, amphibians and reptiles. Our necks ached, our boots got muddy (and my feet were in misery) but we were so in awe of our surroundings that we didn’t care. On Day One, I talleyed 25 different birds and beasties. Our lists increased daily as we honed our detective skills, which anyone can do with practice. First, you start in serene surroundings with good binoculars and acute observational skills. Then you walk quietly, scanning below, sideways, and above for movement or creature-like blotches, either dark or colorful. Here's a photo of an iguana that wanted to get a closer look at us.
Since La Selva is a protected area, visitors must stay on paths and keep hands off living creatures, so the animals are less afraid. We saw several families of collared peccaries (visualize a wild boar), enough iguana so they became commonplace, and many absolutely stunning tropical birds. The obnoxious yowling of howler monkeys became our pre-dawn alarm clock. They are the loudest animal on terra firma (only blue whales are louder) and their howls carry over three miles or more. Our group saw them just once there and once at Palo Verde. They are elusive, traveling hither and yon by deftly swinging from branch to branch. Look closely and you can see one (or two if you've got sharp eyes) below.
We had a chance to flaunt what we’d learned at a restaurant stop near the end of the trip. A colorful bird was pecking at a bunch of over-ripe bananas hanging near an open window, and some gringos were asking “What’s that?” We could have said, with intellectual disdain, “That? Why, don’t you know a keel-billed toucan when you see one?” But we said it more nicely, of course.
At Palo Verde, a different type of iguana called a ctenosaur roamed freely and confidently around the biological station grounds, even though about 50 or so human beings were present. Perhaps we were ignored because the males were on a mission – enticing females with their courtly head bobs.
Other prolific wildlife in the Palo Verde wetlands included black-bellied whistling ducks, snail kites, egrets and blue heron, both indigenous and migratory. On solid ground, we saw how ants and acacia trees rely on each other. Ants live on ant acacias, getting nourishment from the trees’ secretions. The ants, in turn, protect the acacias from herbivores by releasing a nasty odor as well as physically attacking the surprised herbivore.
Which brings us to botflies, and why we were so conscientious about slathering on the mosquito repellent. We had read a frightening chapter in our textbook, “Tropical Nature,” about sneaky botflies that deposit their eggs on unsuspecting mosquitoes, which then land on animals or humans. The eggs detach, burrow under the skin, incubate and hatch. What begins as a mosquito bite becomes home to botfly larvae in a few weeks, and the process of evicting them is a difficult and gruesome procedure. Fortunately, none of us got that tell-tale bump that might have harbored a tiny living creature, maybe because we slept under mosquito netting (below).
So let’s change the subject and go on to mosquito-free Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve, at the tip of the Nicoya peninsula right on the Pacific Ocean. This 45-year-old reserve is a protected forest and marine environment managed by the only two Americans who are employed by the Costa Rica national parks system, biologists Milton and Diana Lieberman. They are affiliated with the University of Georgia but spend as much time as possible in Costa Rica. Not a bad job if you can get it! I noticed the bench outside their cottage is set up to view the sun setting over the ocean.
At the San Miguel Biological Station in Cabo Blanco Reserve, our emphasis was on marine life. We were forced to scavenge the beach and tidepools at low tide for shells and living sea creatures, and went snorkeling for a closer look at fish and other underwater dwellers.
Below: the Pacific Ocean as seen from the forested area at San Miguel Biological Station:
Probably because this is a less visited reserve, some forest creatures were quite brave. We saw coati and coatimundi daily as they moseyed around the forest behind the kitchen. They have long upright tails ending in a curl, and a cute, quizzical face, and unfortunately don't linger long enough for a good photograph. The raccoons also looked cute but were more pesky. At night, they climbed up on the open-air dining area deck and got into mischief. Heading for the bathroom in the wee hours one morning, I saw three of them playing with the contents of the aluminum can recycling container they had dumped, and decided to go to another facility. The next night, they found a forgotten backpack, zipped it open, and had a merry time scattering the contents.
The course included some floating learning experiences as well. At La Selva, we went on a boat ride on the Puerto Viejo River to see more riparian birds and animals, plus banana plantations – where the fruit is covered with thick plastic bags to protect it from banana-loving creatures – and a stop at a small tienda (store) for refreshing pineapple juice and an opportunity to shop. The most expedient way to get from Palo Verde to Cabo Blanco was by first traveling by boat on the Tempisque River to Puerto Humo, where Don Carlos picked us up and transported us over bumpy dirt and paved roads. From the boat, we saw many crocodiles and iguana sunning themselves on the riverbanks, and thousands of shorebirds as we passed Bird Island, including roseate spoonbills that get much of their pink color from the crustaceans they eat.
Some of the more energetic students extended their daylong learning experiences by going on night hikes. Although they had to watch out for venomous snakes, their rewards included glimpses of other less harmful snakes, cayman crocodiles, bright red poison dart frogs with blue hind legs, and tiny white bats that live under large leaves.
So here we were, in a lush tropical wonderland surrounded by the most gorgeous birds and most interesting animals I’ve ever seen in the wild, and John made us work. I guess that’s why it’s called “Study Abroad.” During our ten days at the three biological stations, we observed leaf cutter ants, counted palm trees, measured tree trunks and their buttresses, gathered and identified shells and tidepool creatures, and we still had to take a final exam.
When I said “we” measured tree trunks and their buttresses, I need to explain that only four of us did that. At La Selva, we split up into small groups. Each group had to come up with a hypothesis, gather data, analyze it, prove or disprove the hypothesis, write it up in PowerPoint, and present it to the class. Other groups hypothesized about walking palms, soil, and what was in the water. For some, the most challenging part of the project was figuring out PowerPoint.
As you might have guessed, my learning curve was a straight vertical line. Others had it easier, having been to Costa Rica before, and/or taken biology or botany classes, and/or knew some Spanish. My hunger for learning, especially in a very new environment, stood me well. Being observant in such beautiful surroundings was not difficult because the pay-off was well worth it, i.e., learning about the gorgeous or interesting creatures or plants I was enjoying. And by the end of the trip, I was able to order a meal in a restaurant and know what I’d be getting, pay correctly in colones, find (or ask for) a bathroom (baño or servicio), and knew to discard toilet paper in the wastebasket provided for that purpose. Plus identify a keel-billed toucan, of course.
The only things third-worldish that I noticed were the quality of the thin toilet paper, napkins and paper towels; the roads; and the occasional shacks we saw in the small villages. Only 18 percent of the population live below the poverty line (In Mexico it’s 37 percent, and in the United States it’s 12.7). Water was safe to drink everywhere, Coca-Cola and Canada Dry ginger ale are ubiquitous, and American dollars and credit cards are widely accepted – although using Costa Rican colones is easy, with an exchange rate of about 500 colones to one U.S. dollar.
About those roads – yikes! Outside of major cities, most roads are dirt and rock. We were told not to expect paved roads to be faster, and we quickly learned why. They are full of potholes. To avoid them, drivers careen wildly from one side of the road to the other, quite a hair-raising experience on winding mountain roads. On our first day in San Jose, three of us shared a taxi from a museum back to the hotel (only $3) and we immediately learned that drivers consider signs that say ALTA (stop) to mean “yield” and they didn’t always do that.
Would I go back to Costa Rica? You bet! I want to be a tourist there and go on an elevated sky walk in the rainforest, see a more active volcano, and just swing in a hammock watching birds and those speedy Costa Rican sunsets. The food is cheap and delicious, the coffee – ah, the coffee! I want to take a tour of a shade-grown fair trade coffee plantation, and meander through the Jade Museum, and – oh, you get the idea. But I wouldn’t go alone. The burglar bars, razor wire and guards at banks and businesses are a sure crime indicator to me, although Ticos (Costa Ricans’ name for themselves) blame the Nicaraguan migrant labor for the problems. The desk clerk at our San Jose hotel advised us to beware of pickpockets and thieves, and guidebooks offer advice on not getting ripped off by cabdrivers. So my classmates and I took precautions by buddying up when we ventured out in San Jose. In the more rural areas, however, paranoia seemed out of place. Burglar deterrents were nonexistent, front doors were open, and children walked and played futbol (soccer) unchaperoned.
I also have to return so I can use the few new Spanish phrases I finally learned. Instead of de nada (you’re welcome), Ticos say “much con gusto,” or literally, with much pleasure. The other phrase, “pura vida” – pure life – is used frequently as a joyous greeting.
If you’re interested in enjoying pura vida in Costa Rica while learning to increase your enjoyment, check out John Carothers’ website in a year or so. Following are some websites to increase your enjoyment of this article.
http://www.cabrillo.edu/~jcarothers/
http://www.ots.ac.cr/en/laselva/
http://www.costaricamap.com/ing/bioppalo.html
http://www.ots.duke.edu/en/paloverde/
http://www.costarica-nationalparks.com/caboblancoabsolutenaturalreserve.html
THE END ... of this newsletter, of the trip, of the cow parade we enjoyed while eating lunch at a rural roadside restaurant.
Before I retired from a staff position at Cabrillo College in late 2004, I got wind of a study-abroad biology course being planned to Costa Rica. I immediately decided to go, even though I lacked a passport, didn’t know where Costa Rica was, and had chronic science deficit disorder.
The class, Natural History of Costa Rica, promised an “experience for those curious about tropical biology in one of the biodiversity capitals of the world.” We would stay at research reserves in wet, dry and coastal locations not readily available to tourists. We would be there two weeks in early January, and it would cost $1,600 plus tuition, books, and a few miscellaneous expenses. It would be hard to find a vacation package for such a reasonable price. This turned out to be much more than just a vacation, however. It was fascinating, it was fun, it was safe, and I even managed to understand about 80 percent of the science.
Getting the passport and locating Costa Rica on a map of Central America were easy. I figured my curious mind and determination would get me through the science deficit problem. My hopes were based on my experiences wandering around the U.S. in 2005. On an eight-month journey through 26 states, I learned that I just wanted to keep on learning. At every park, monument, museum, or planetarium, I took in as many presentations, demonstrations, and guided tours as possible and collected pounds of brochures and booklets. So I knew my mind was ready to study abroad, but what about the rest of me?
My qualms involved my eyes and my feet. After surgery for a macular hole and a cataract in one eye, I still see things a little skewed. In the other eye, floaters pop up at the most unexpected moments. Due to plantar fasciitis in both feet (inflammation of the tough tissue supporting the arches), the more I walk, the more they hurt. And lastly, I get off balance going down hills. My age, 65, was the least of my concerns – in fact, all the more reason to go on what seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime. So I ignored all of the above, packed a folding stool so I could rest my feet along the trails, really good binoculars that could be used with eyeglasses, began practicing getting up earlier (I have, after all, been retired for a year now) and went anyway.
Twenty of us flew out of San Francisco just after midnight on January 2. As we stood in line at the Taca International ticket counter, we recognized each other by the big rubber boots we had strapped onto our luggage, or were carrying, or as a last resort, wore. We’d all packed according to a list provided by the instructor, plus two unauthorized guitars and a harmonica.
Our first view of Central America was prefaced by a bright and beautiful sunrise on the approach to El Salvador where we changed planes. Our instructor, John Carothers, met us at a San Jose airport 3,660 miles from the California city with the same name. Accompanying him with a big turismo van was Don Carlos, our driver for most of our adventure.
The first thing I learned about Costa Rican culture was that Don – and Doña for a woman – are titles of respect for older men and women. Yes, I was Doña Joan, pronounced “Hone.” Throughout the trip, I also felt respect from my younger fellow students. Our group could be diagramed in the usual bell curve: a few at the right side (oldest), a few at the left side (youngest) and the rest inbetween. We also varied by occupation, race, income and level of education, but shared a concern and appreciation for the environment, and a desire to learn about a beautiful and fascinating place.
The first thing we learned, after unloading the van at our hotel in San Jose, the capital city of Costa Rica,
was about typical Costa Rican food. For me, it was love at first bite. A typical Costa Rican lunch or dinner, as served in many family-style restaurants and the dining rooms where we stayed, generally consists of white rice, black beans, a vegetable – frequently squash, salad, a slice of fried plantain (a banana-like fruit that cannot be eaten raw), and a fresh juice beverage. Lizano salsa is usually available to add a slightly piquant, slightly sweet flavor.
At the biological stations where we stayed, we became accustomed to eating beans and rice for breakfast. We were always served pico de gallo (black beans mixed with white rice), fried or scrambled eggs, slabs of delicious mild white cheese, coarse white and whole wheat bread, sometimes pancakes,
fresh juice, and flavorful Costa Rican coffee. The coffee was full-bodied without being either bitter or weak, even though it was made in large commercial urns. Mixed with sweetened cocoa powder and a little milk in a glass with ice, our do-it-yourself iced mochas were an addictive afternoon treat. At all meals, a variety of fresh, juicy, flavorful tropical fruit was available; white pineapple was a favorite.
Speaking of tropics – that’s where we were, about 10 degrees north of the Equator between Nicaragua and Panama. As explained by fellow student David Balogh, who teaches geography and meteorology at Cabrillo, this proximity to the Equator results in fast sunsets followed by sudden darkness. Sunrise is about 5:30 to 6:00 am, and sunset is about 5:30 to 6:00 pm year-round. No need for daylight savings time! Also, sunburn comes on more quickly because the sun’s ultraviolet rays are much more direct and stronger. The temperature was as consistent as the sunrise and sunset, usually in the 80s but sometimes hotter. What does vary is rainfall, and fortunately January is a dry month. Well, except in the rain forest, and we were there, in the rain. That’s why we had to bring big rubber boots and umbrellas.
Below is the most spectacular sunset I saw during this trip, over the warm Pacific Ocean at Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve at the tip of the Nicoya Peninsula.
For a country as small as Costa Rica – about one-eighth the size of California, or twice the size of Vermont – it packs in a lot of biological diversity. More species of plants and animals are in Costa Rica than any other country in the world – 10,000 plants and trees, 850 birds, 220 reptiles, and to the dismay of the squeamish, 35,000 species of insects. Why such rampant biodiversity? First, Costa Rica’s terrain is exceedingly diverse, consisting of rugged mountains and rain forests between coastal plains on both Caribbean and Pacific shores. Secondly, national parks and reserves protect 27 percent of Costa Rica’s natural resources. It has become a mecca for tropical biologists, ecologists and eco-tourists for the last 50 years. I felt privileged to be among those pilgrims.
But it wasn’t all sight-seeing for our group. Since this was a full three-unit class, and we spent most of our time at biological research stations, we crammed a lot of learning into two weeks. Our easiest assignment was a visit to Poas Volcano National Park on the way to our first outdoor classroom. Although the volcano hasn’t erupted in over a decade, the potential is evident. We smelled sulfur on our walk to the crater overlook, where we saw billowy smoke (fumeroles) rising and drifting in the wind. (See the proof below.)
This park is where I first saw epiphytes – more specifically, bromeliads – growing on branches of trees. Epiphytes get their physical support from the trees they grow on, but are not parasitic like mistletoe. They get nourishment from rainwater and decayed organic materials on the trees. Orchids and lichen are more familiar epiphytes. They choose these high perches to get more light, and to escape ground-based herbivores – animals that would nibble them to death. Below: a bromeliad in bloom, taken at Vulcan Poas National Park.
As we continued our bumpy ride through the mountains, sunshine gave way to clouds and then to a downpour, introducing us suddenly to a rain forest. We were in two vans, our luggage was on top, and the drivers had one tarp between them. Our van lost the draw for the tarp, so we quickly transferred the dampened packs inside on our laps and under our feet. Our temporary discomfort was lightened by music provided by five guys singing, a guitar and a harmonica.
We stayed at three biological research stations, two of them run by the Organization for Tropical Studies (OTS), a consortium of 63 universities and research institutions in the United States, Latin America and Australia. OTS, founded in 1963, focuses on education, research and the responsible use of natural resources in the tropics. Other visitors staying in the dorms and cottages at our first stop, La Selva, were researchers or students from universities. At our next OTS stop, Palo Verde, the only other visiting students were from Dartmouth, and at our final stop, Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve, groups such as ours visit by invitation only. Although our stays at these three reserves were pre-arranged educational experiences, the general public can sometimes visit and go on tours by going through a few hoops such as making reservations and paying fees. And of course the flora and fauna of Costa Rica are available just about everywhere to anyone who cares enough to pay attention and tote around a few books about birds, butterflies, plants and beasts.
At La Selva, tour guides led us through the jungle, acquainting us with the trees, flowers, birds, insects, butterflies, mammals, amphibians and reptiles. Our necks ached, our boots got muddy (and my feet were in misery) but we were so in awe of our surroundings that we didn’t care. On Day One, I talleyed 25 different birds and beasties. Our lists increased daily as we honed our detective skills, which anyone can do with practice. First, you start in serene surroundings with good binoculars and acute observational skills. Then you walk quietly, scanning below, sideways, and above for movement or creature-like blotches, either dark or colorful. Here's a photo of an iguana that wanted to get a closer look at us.
Since La Selva is a protected area, visitors must stay on paths and keep hands off living creatures, so the animals are less afraid. We saw several families of collared peccaries (visualize a wild boar), enough iguana so they became commonplace, and many absolutely stunning tropical birds. The obnoxious yowling of howler monkeys became our pre-dawn alarm clock. They are the loudest animal on terra firma (only blue whales are louder) and their howls carry over three miles or more. Our group saw them just once there and once at Palo Verde. They are elusive, traveling hither and yon by deftly swinging from branch to branch. Look closely and you can see one (or two if you've got sharp eyes) below.
We had a chance to flaunt what we’d learned at a restaurant stop near the end of the trip. A colorful bird was pecking at a bunch of over-ripe bananas hanging near an open window, and some gringos were asking “What’s that?” We could have said, with intellectual disdain, “That? Why, don’t you know a keel-billed toucan when you see one?” But we said it more nicely, of course.
At Palo Verde, a different type of iguana called a ctenosaur roamed freely and confidently around the biological station grounds, even though about 50 or so human beings were present. Perhaps we were ignored because the males were on a mission – enticing females with their courtly head bobs.
Other prolific wildlife in the Palo Verde wetlands included black-bellied whistling ducks, snail kites, egrets and blue heron, both indigenous and migratory. On solid ground, we saw how ants and acacia trees rely on each other. Ants live on ant acacias, getting nourishment from the trees’ secretions. The ants, in turn, protect the acacias from herbivores by releasing a nasty odor as well as physically attacking the surprised herbivore.
Which brings us to botflies, and why we were so conscientious about slathering on the mosquito repellent. We had read a frightening chapter in our textbook, “Tropical Nature,” about sneaky botflies that deposit their eggs on unsuspecting mosquitoes, which then land on animals or humans. The eggs detach, burrow under the skin, incubate and hatch. What begins as a mosquito bite becomes home to botfly larvae in a few weeks, and the process of evicting them is a difficult and gruesome procedure. Fortunately, none of us got that tell-tale bump that might have harbored a tiny living creature, maybe because we slept under mosquito netting (below).
So let’s change the subject and go on to mosquito-free Cabo Blanco Absolute Natural Reserve, at the tip of the Nicoya peninsula right on the Pacific Ocean. This 45-year-old reserve is a protected forest and marine environment managed by the only two Americans who are employed by the Costa Rica national parks system, biologists Milton and Diana Lieberman. They are affiliated with the University of Georgia but spend as much time as possible in Costa Rica. Not a bad job if you can get it! I noticed the bench outside their cottage is set up to view the sun setting over the ocean.
At the San Miguel Biological Station in Cabo Blanco Reserve, our emphasis was on marine life. We were forced to scavenge the beach and tidepools at low tide for shells and living sea creatures, and went snorkeling for a closer look at fish and other underwater dwellers.
Below: the Pacific Ocean as seen from the forested area at San Miguel Biological Station:
Probably because this is a less visited reserve, some forest creatures were quite brave. We saw coati and coatimundi daily as they moseyed around the forest behind the kitchen. They have long upright tails ending in a curl, and a cute, quizzical face, and unfortunately don't linger long enough for a good photograph. The raccoons also looked cute but were more pesky. At night, they climbed up on the open-air dining area deck and got into mischief. Heading for the bathroom in the wee hours one morning, I saw three of them playing with the contents of the aluminum can recycling container they had dumped, and decided to go to another facility. The next night, they found a forgotten backpack, zipped it open, and had a merry time scattering the contents.
The course included some floating learning experiences as well. At La Selva, we went on a boat ride on the Puerto Viejo River to see more riparian birds and animals, plus banana plantations – where the fruit is covered with thick plastic bags to protect it from banana-loving creatures – and a stop at a small tienda (store) for refreshing pineapple juice and an opportunity to shop. The most expedient way to get from Palo Verde to Cabo Blanco was by first traveling by boat on the Tempisque River to Puerto Humo, where Don Carlos picked us up and transported us over bumpy dirt and paved roads. From the boat, we saw many crocodiles and iguana sunning themselves on the riverbanks, and thousands of shorebirds as we passed Bird Island, including roseate spoonbills that get much of their pink color from the crustaceans they eat.
Some of the more energetic students extended their daylong learning experiences by going on night hikes. Although they had to watch out for venomous snakes, their rewards included glimpses of other less harmful snakes, cayman crocodiles, bright red poison dart frogs with blue hind legs, and tiny white bats that live under large leaves.
So here we were, in a lush tropical wonderland surrounded by the most gorgeous birds and most interesting animals I’ve ever seen in the wild, and John made us work. I guess that’s why it’s called “Study Abroad.” During our ten days at the three biological stations, we observed leaf cutter ants, counted palm trees, measured tree trunks and their buttresses, gathered and identified shells and tidepool creatures, and we still had to take a final exam.
When I said “we” measured tree trunks and their buttresses, I need to explain that only four of us did that. At La Selva, we split up into small groups. Each group had to come up with a hypothesis, gather data, analyze it, prove or disprove the hypothesis, write it up in PowerPoint, and present it to the class. Other groups hypothesized about walking palms, soil, and what was in the water. For some, the most challenging part of the project was figuring out PowerPoint.
As you might have guessed, my learning curve was a straight vertical line. Others had it easier, having been to Costa Rica before, and/or taken biology or botany classes, and/or knew some Spanish. My hunger for learning, especially in a very new environment, stood me well. Being observant in such beautiful surroundings was not difficult because the pay-off was well worth it, i.e., learning about the gorgeous or interesting creatures or plants I was enjoying. And by the end of the trip, I was able to order a meal in a restaurant and know what I’d be getting, pay correctly in colones, find (or ask for) a bathroom (baño or servicio), and knew to discard toilet paper in the wastebasket provided for that purpose. Plus identify a keel-billed toucan, of course.
The only things third-worldish that I noticed were the quality of the thin toilet paper, napkins and paper towels; the roads; and the occasional shacks we saw in the small villages. Only 18 percent of the population live below the poverty line (In Mexico it’s 37 percent, and in the United States it’s 12.7). Water was safe to drink everywhere, Coca-Cola and Canada Dry ginger ale are ubiquitous, and American dollars and credit cards are widely accepted – although using Costa Rican colones is easy, with an exchange rate of about 500 colones to one U.S. dollar.
About those roads – yikes! Outside of major cities, most roads are dirt and rock. We were told not to expect paved roads to be faster, and we quickly learned why. They are full of potholes. To avoid them, drivers careen wildly from one side of the road to the other, quite a hair-raising experience on winding mountain roads. On our first day in San Jose, three of us shared a taxi from a museum back to the hotel (only $3) and we immediately learned that drivers consider signs that say ALTA (stop) to mean “yield” and they didn’t always do that.
Would I go back to Costa Rica? You bet! I want to be a tourist there and go on an elevated sky walk in the rainforest, see a more active volcano, and just swing in a hammock watching birds and those speedy Costa Rican sunsets. The food is cheap and delicious, the coffee – ah, the coffee! I want to take a tour of a shade-grown fair trade coffee plantation, and meander through the Jade Museum, and – oh, you get the idea. But I wouldn’t go alone. The burglar bars, razor wire and guards at banks and businesses are a sure crime indicator to me, although Ticos (Costa Ricans’ name for themselves) blame the Nicaraguan migrant labor for the problems. The desk clerk at our San Jose hotel advised us to beware of pickpockets and thieves, and guidebooks offer advice on not getting ripped off by cabdrivers. So my classmates and I took precautions by buddying up when we ventured out in San Jose. In the more rural areas, however, paranoia seemed out of place. Burglar deterrents were nonexistent, front doors were open, and children walked and played futbol (soccer) unchaperoned.
I also have to return so I can use the few new Spanish phrases I finally learned. Instead of de nada (you’re welcome), Ticos say “much con gusto,” or literally, with much pleasure. The other phrase, “pura vida” – pure life – is used frequently as a joyous greeting.
If you’re interested in enjoying pura vida in Costa Rica while learning to increase your enjoyment, check out John Carothers’ website in a year or so. Following are some websites to increase your enjoyment of this article.
http://www.cabrillo.edu/~jcarothers/
http://www.ots.ac.cr/en/laselva/
http://www.costaricamap.com/ing/bioppalo.html
http://www.ots.duke.edu/en/paloverde/
http://www.costarica-nationalparks.com/caboblancoabsolutenaturalreserve.html
THE END ... of this newsletter, of the trip, of the cow parade we enjoyed while eating lunch at a rural roadside restaurant.
posted by Joan McCarthy at 2:37 PM
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