Costa Rica Unplugged: Day 3

Thunder roared over the trainer last Wednesday as she schooled us on the new writing program. I had been sitting in a class full of teachers all day when the forecasted summer storm finally hit in the afternoon. The boom made everyone's head turn towards the windows while I remained still. With my back to the glass, I listened to the magnitude of the rumble. 

It was baby thunder compared to Costa Rica's. When I was there, the crashing woke and kept me up throughout my second night in Tortuguero. The sound of someone standing over my head banging ten cookie sheets with a hammer forced my eyes open. Then I imagined gigantic lighting bolts thrown from the sky landing in the forest as the light-and-music show took place outside. I waited for the earth to split apart and pictured everything-- soil, roots, walkways, cabins, trees, crabs, river, monkeys-- being devoured slowly into a giant crack.

I didn't sleep until the morning but that didn't last long. We had a safari boat excursion scheduled after breakfast. The tour group was ready to go when our guide announced that the ride was postponed due to the nonstop rain and there weren't many options to choose from to kill time. We had already eaten and explored the grounds the day before. The pool was out of the question and there were no televisions in the rooms. Our only choice was to accompany the youngins at the reception area where the some of them lived and breathed the Wi-Fi. Jackie took on the task of uploading pictures from her Samsung to her Google Drive account to make room in her phone. I, on the other hand, lived up to my name of older responsible sister a.k.a. nerd; I took video of the rain and sent it to my dad, my attempt at daily notifications to him and my mom that we were alive and well.

A while later, a hold on the rain signaled our departure. Our group was divided into two boats and off we went in search of all things forest.

We started with rain gear and then switched to sun screen and hats to shield us from the the torturous rays (Costa Rica is near the equator.)

Three tiny lizards. Can you see them?

Cayman.

Camouflaged. 

Chillin'.

Our driver reminded me of El General... "Tu pun pun mami, mami..."

Our first macaw sighting. It's amazing to see the locals, like our guide and taxi, get excited over spotting these and other creatures. I guess some things never get old...

We didn't spot toucans or crocodiles during our trip so we were a bit disappointed. A few butterflies with neon blue wings did fly over our heads, though. We returned to the lodge, had lunch, and spotted more monkeys on the tree across from our cabin before taking another taxi to Tortuguero village. It was vibrant compared to the night before. The town consisted of the Caribbean beach, a school, a church, shops, and restaurants. We saw how the locals managed the rain, especially after it poured while I was buying post cards. They walked through it, cycled, or stepped on sand bags. I would classify the area as poor but full of life. 

Papa monkey.

Meeting mamma monkey and kids.

Babies exploring.

La escuela. 

Boys hanging out. We wondered why there weren't in school 50 feet away. Jackie found it refreshing that they could entertain themselves by simply talking.

Very nature conscious. "We're all a part of nature... Let's respect it!"

Coconut water, anyone? Only a buck, not $15 like at that Mexican cantina I went to on Friday night.

The Caribbean!!!

The gang!

Just how I like it, calm and beautiful.

Proof that I was there.

The only church I got to visit. :(

Music school.

Jackie, befriending a native boy. Pay close attention to how, while she walks on the edge, the boy takes on the flooded road.

More like jungle livin'.

The main strip.

We thought it was a trash can. 

Children playing in the park.

Our visit concluded at the souvenir shop before heading back to the lodge. We had dinner and closed out the day at the bar. As the group sat in a circle, we agreed that the constant downpour and constraint to the hotel grounds had suffocated us. So, to cheer ourselves up on our last night there, we took on a drinking game called 21. In case you're unfamiliar, the players had to count around to twenty-one and then assign a gesture or phrase to a number between 1-21 before the count off began again. If someone said, "Number 3 has to do the chicken dance," the next person who called out that number had to follow the rule. If we missed or forgot the command, we had to take a drink. By the end, all the numbers had orders and we looked silly stomping our feet, slapping our butts, and howling like wolves.

Satisfied with the use of our time, we said good night and went to sleep with sunny beaches on our minds.