Shared Illusions

Years ago when I was a lowly compliance officer for OSHA o was scheduled to inspect s construction site in the mountains of northern New Mexico. After a bit of wandering I found the project superintendents trailer, presented my credentials, and described the process of inspection, citations, fines, and speaks.

The super told me I would likely not going the actual construction site on my own, and should ride with him in his 4wd pickup. After a half hour crossing streams and climbing hills we reached a meadow where he stopped the truck, shut off the engine, turned to me and said, “you and I are the only people who know where you are right now, and I bet you’re not to sure yourself.”

The feeling I had them was a lot like how I felt this afternoon on the boat from La Pavona to Tortuguero. The trip took over an hour and I lost track of the number of twists and turns cruising past mangroves and crocodiles. The sky was overcast and it rained during most of the journey.

It was an invigorating experience that was a fitting end for the drive from the central valley. We had been told the Caribbean coast is lusher than anywhere else in Costa Rica: I was skeptical of that claim until I saw for myself. The jungle is impenetratingly dense to the point that it is frightening. It is a wonder that humans could carve out enough of the jungle to make settlements.

But carve they did, to the point that we drive for a considerable time past enormous fields of trees: piña, coco, banana, papaya. The farms had good old family names, like Del Monte and Dole. In that area the air was dense with smoke from where the grocers were being cleared.

We have settled into a small hotel that has internet so slow we cannot upload photos. For the next few days will just send narratives and catch up with photos from Puerto Viejo next week.

I am a bit disappointed that we missed the spectacular eruption of Volcan Rincon Vieja today. I’ll probably think about that tonight and dream about earthquakes and tsunamis and wonder how to find the evacuation route.

More later. “Pura vida,” as they say in these parts.