Costa Jill

Farmer’s Market Rincon de Uvita, Costa Ballena, Costa Rica open Saturdays 8am - 1pm

My productivity as a writer is increasing, and when the writing helps those in need, that’s even better. In his book The Geography of Bliss Eric Weiner travels the world looking for the happiest place and/or people who have the essential ingredients of a ‘good life’. A foreign correspondent for National Public Radio (NPR) he is typically expected to discover breaking news, which usually involves death and destruction. As he says, “It’s rewarding work, but can be a real bummer.” So he takes a break from the negative to “turn journalism on its head and seek out the world’s unheralded positives.” One of the major criteria for happiness that keeps turning up for Weiner is feeling good, and a big chunk of that is feeling good about helping others in need.

I read Weiner’s book after spending time working for nonprofits Water for People and El Porvenir in Nicaragua and chronicling the experience here. It gave me the impetus to talk of my experience on my NPR station WSLR in Sarasota, FL, and write a perspective piece in the national English language newspaper in Costa Rica and Nicaragua -The Tico/Nica Times.

Since the Geography of Bliss was printed Costa Rica has been voted the “Happiest” places in the world, according to Nicholas Kristoff in a recent NY Times article, but disasters still occur. I have just returned to my second home on the Costa Ballena, Costa Rica to the aftermath another horrible accident on the dangerous Costanera highway. Juan Carlos Guadmuz, the brother of my caretaker Edgar, was driving home to Hermosa from Cortez with his family and two local women when a car tried to pass three semis on a curve, causing the Guadamuz car to swerve into the oncoming truck with disastrous results. Of the seven people in the car four died - the two women from Uvita, and a Guadamuz son and grandson. Juan Carlos, his wife Maria and another son survived, but with serious injuries. They are trying to put their lives back together and are recuperating slowly, but neither husband nor wife is able to work yet, and the car was totaled.

Again, I am writing this in the hope that you will join me in feeling good about helping some good people in dire need – the Guadmuz family. They are some of our local hardworking and proud pioneers. In fact, Juan Carlos’ father’s life was recently chronicled in one of our monthly magazines – Ballena Tales.

Diana & Ian, Made FromScratch booth at Feria - Uvita

We will have a donation box for the next several weeks at the local farmer’s market, Feria – Rincon de Uvita at Diana’s ‘Made-from-Scratch’ booth. The Feria is open every Saturday from 8 am to 1 pm. The family would appreciate any money or non-perishable food items to help them get through the next couple of months.

More Bird, Butterfly and Monkey Business

We could spend hours on our balcony watching the life in the canopy, one that most people will never experience. Thank you Meg Lowman, the pioneer in studying forest canopies all over the world. She was the first to construct platforms and zip-lines to sail her through one of the only unexplored parts of the world – the forest canopy. She lives and works in my hometown of Sarasota, Florida and is one of our celebrity professors from New College. She made me want to visit the upper levels of the earth. Thank you Erica and Matt Hogan of Finca Bellavista for making it happen, and thank my lucky stars for the opportunity.

The last day we descend to travel on some of the extensive trails in and around the mountain. The first, a steep heart-pounder, takes us up to the edge of the waterfall that has been the backdrop to our treetop aerie. Standing atop the massive surge of water is exhilarating yet frightening. “It’s sucking me over!” I yell over the deafening roar.

“It’s too exciting for me, let’s get out of here. Too bad we can’t fly back to our roost. Like SuperMatt, or the birds.” trumpets B. We follow the trail in sinewy curves down and along the crystal clear Rio Bellavista rippling over rocks. Eden calls. Stripping off our sweaty clothes, we frolic in the cool water.

But soon it’s time to return to the groundfloor of life. This time, while walking back to Base Camp, we get two reprieves. Tico employees continuing to extend the network of trails, greet us with a friendly “Que tal? Necesitan ayuda con su equipaje?”

“Por supuesto!” For sure. We’ll take help with our luggage. They carry it all the way back to camp while we meander back through the jungle, noticing that Erica, true to her word, has already added new signs directing us back. Now that’s service! Anyone interested in more information on this unique and wondrous Shangri-la just check into fincabellavista.net. for site plans, examples of already built tree houses, sample house plans, rentals, rules and regulations and more. Thank you for your comments and keep them coming. Keep posted for our new adventure.

At the end of February we’ll be setting out with World Water Corp, a branch of the non-profit Water for People (from my African adventure), to a remote area in Central America, El Sauce, Nicaragua. We will be monitoring water systems that have already been put in place to see how they’re functioning. Here we go again. More soon.

It’s my birthday and we’re on our way to the Treehouse with our Finca Bellavista pointer sheet in hand. Lots of instructions, directions and rules. Too many to remember. It begins:

You won’t find billboards or roadside signs that lead you to Finca Bellavista. We are not a full-service spa or a fancy hotel. You won’t find TVs in our cabinas, or electricity. What you will find is a rustic, yet comfortable retreat from the outside world to explore and enjoy on your own. We are in our infancy as a project. Though we keep our location somewhat of a secret from the outside world, we are more than happy to open our doors to you since you found us!

As per directions, we follow the coastal highway south from Dominical to the remote pueblo of Piedras Blancas and turn left at the only restaurant in town, Rancho Guiri Guiri. According to the pointer sheet, it serves the best fried chicken in the southern zone of Costa Rica, and since it’s lunchtime we decide to stop. I take the safe route and order fried chicken. B. checks out the ‘specials’ and takes a chance. “I’d like to try the tepezquintle.” This rodent-like animal has been the hunters’ favorite since homesteading days and here it is on the menu, probably illegally.

“Your horoscope this month must be telling you to take chances.” I laugh.

B. knows he’s made a mistake as soon as the cook serves us, “Whew, that smells really gamy.” And it taste that way too. He takes his medicine like a man and eats most of it. I try one bite and we chalk it up to experience.

Finca Bella Vista base camp

Back in the car we finally see the obscure sign for Finca Bellavista, follow the dirt road a few miles to the ‘base camp’ and pull into the only car parking area. There’s a community center with bathhouse, kitchen, dining area and game room surrounded by well-kept gardens and trails. We meet Erica, she shows us around and we gather our belongings for the long trek to our treehouse. Thank goodness we’re in good physical health. The trail is steep, wet, and treacherous, but the destination is worth every step. A handmade sign “Mis Ojos Treehouse”, points to a two-story wooden structure set high up among four giant rainforest trees, with just one more steep ladder-like staircase to heaven.

After showing us around and giving last minute instructions, Erica leaves us with, “dinner is served at seven back at base camp.”

She’s gone before I realize. “Oh shit. We’re gonna have to walk all the way back there.”

“And in the pitch dark!”

We’ve signed up for meals instead of cooking in the treehouse. A big mistake?

We don’t want to think about it right now. We sit on the balcony and soak in the exciting new adventure of being an integral part of the majestic jungle hundreds of feet below and above us. “We’re so lucky - or rather you are. You win stuff all the time.”

“You’re right, my son used to be the lucky one. He won almost every time he entered a contest, from dinners for two to Caribbean cruises. Guess it runs in the family.”

But luck isn’t all of it. Whether you believe in horoscopes or not, taking risks and making changes is what makes our lives rich and exciting. Last week we took surfing lessons, my low bid at a silent auction for a dog adoption group. And now here we are at Finca Bella Vista in the treetops of the Costa Rican jungle drinking coffee. In our faces, the insistent sound and sight of the waterfall intertwines with sweet and raucous birdsongs, and fluttering blue iridescent flashes of Morpho butterflies.

It’s 2010. Twenty-Ten - don’t you like the sound of that? In honor of the new decade I’m putting out of my mind that it’s been a month since posting a blog. Let’s start anew without resolutions. They just cause stress. And thus begins my recollection of a first in a lifetime experience, up in a tree house.

You’d think that the rainy season would be the perfect season for the Rain Forest Aid concert on the Osa Peninsula of Costa Rica, but hardly anyone came and most of those have gone home - the ones who could slip and slide their cars out of the parking lot. At the finale, the rain pours down on the soccer field splashing mud up to our asses. Barely audible through the pounding rain I hear, “And now, the big raffle prize! The ultimate tree house experience, a weekend stay at Finca Bellavista goes to …… Jill Green.”

“Wow! I did it.” My persistence has paid off. This obscure concert, its meager attendance dwindled by constant rain, has raised my chances of winning the big prize by a huge percentage. First I had to find the booth with the raffle box in which to stuff my ticket stub. Even the concert (dis)organizers sent me on a wet and wild goose chase. “Bellavista? Never heard of them. Try the bar tent; they oughta know.”

Pushing through the only dry crowd, I ask the bartender.

“Never heard of Bellavista, but try the booths out on the edge of what’s left of the soccer field.”

Finally I hit paydirt - a small box plastered with a Bellavista pamphlet, a smiling young couple behind it. “This must be the place offering the tree house adventure?”

“Yes.”

“I had a hard time finding you guys. Even the organizer, who lives in a tree house, didn’t know there was a tree house vacation raffle.”

“Yea. Pretty unorganized,” the guy introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Matt. You’ve got a good chance of winning.”

“And I’m Erica. Hardly anybody’s found the way over here to stuff their stubs.”

My  on-again-beau is by my side when I  deliver from the heart, “It’s for two. You wanna go with me?”

“Of course.” His grin becomes a kiss.

“How about when we both return to Costa Rica in the fall?”

“What a perfect place for a rendezvous after an extended separation,” he twinkles.

Tune in next time for the encounter.

Sean, Matt, Ruby Kim

Sunset from Jazzy's Riverhouse

Jazzy’s River House 27870310, that’s the place in Dominical, Costa Rica where the locals go for great music, food, art instruction, surf lessons, yoga, massage, theater, and friendship. Ruby Kim and Steve have opened their arms to the community for the last ten years. And they’ve added something new. Pizza.

Ruby Kim is like Old Faithful, bubbling and spouting regularly with creative new ideas. Her latest venture came about when she, Steve and friend Eduardo, who’s worked in many a pizza parlor, started the dream process.

Eduardo. “Hey, we could build one of those pizza ovens.”

Ruby K. “Like a kiln.”

Steve. “Let’s do it.”

And they did. Now it sits under a bamboo rancho all set about with Ruby’s designs: palm weavings, rock paths and driftwood benches on the Rio Baru.

Oven men Eduardo and Steve

The oven is glaring out at Eduardo and Steve in his pizza apron (the next creative adventure story), waiting for a pizza to be slid off the homemade wooden paddle into its fiery mouth. Friends and neighbors have been invited to bring the fixin’s depending on their pantries and capabilities: sauce, veggies, condiments, meat, cheese dough and firewood. We novices get cooking lessons. No, at my age, I’ve never made a pizza from scratch.

Pizza virgin Jill

Pizza virgin Nancy

Ruby, with that great smile of hers, takes one look at my platter of eggplant parmigiana, “It’s too heavy. You can’t put all that eggplant in big chunks on the pizza crust, it’ll fall through.” Then to Nancy, another first timer, “A little oil on top, flour on the paddle.”

Nancy. “The closest I’ve been to making pizza is taking them out of the box and into the oven.”

Steve. “Tell ‘em not to forget the cornmeal.”

Eduardo. “Or they’re gonna stick.”

There’s a barter system going among good friends, but Ruby Kim and Steve bear the expense of the extras and they’re not rich.

Nancy. “Put out a tip jar.”

Jill. “You gotta pay for expenses or make a little money, so we can keep coming to these great parties.”

Bob starts right in creating his pizza. He’s a chef already. Charlie mumbles up to the paddle, slaps a glob of dough down and starts kneading. Ruby has to pressure me to let go and sling my pizza dough above my head. I’ll jump off a cliff, but neither am I brave enough to project my pizza off the paddle into the fire. I let Steve and Eduardo, the oven experts, do that.

Jungle bunnies

Lorena's games

While all this preparation and oven-watching is going on the jungle bred children of all ages are climbing trees and wrestling, laughing, monkeying around on the grass under the easy supervision of smiling Laraina. She only reels them in to color or play quiet games when they become too rowdy.

I get my pizza in the oven first as the test case. The kids are starving by this time. The oven is so hot it takes only two minutes to cook to perfection. And it’s gorgeous toasty, brown and bubbling. Cut up into small pieces we feed the little guys first. My pizza parmigiana is wolfed down by the pack. What a way to get kids to eat eggplant! And they love it. The rest of the varied and wondrous pizzas follow at five minute intervals until everyone is deliciously full of food, drink, camaraderie, sharing, fun and games. Fourteen pizzas in all come out of the oven with the expertise of Eduardo, Steve and Ruby Kim, and at least half of these are made by pizza virgins.

At the next “Sewing Circle” I reminisce, “What a fun, yummy party!”

And Ruby K brainstorms, “This could be Jazzy’s next venture.”

“Right, you could cater pizza dinners.”

“Clients could just enjoy the party, or they could learn how to make pizzas from scratch to dessert.”

“Just figure in your costs and a fair profit. It’s a great idea.”

So, I’m asking all of you Costa Rica Southern Zone tourists and residents alike, do you like this idea? If they build it, will you come???? Please pass this on and comment on my blog costajill.com or Facebook. Look for more Jazzy’s Pizza Party photos in my Facebook album. Please share this blog with your other Costa Rican friends. Or email jazzysriverhouse@hotmail.com.

Pizza virgin Janice

Nicole, Elizabeth, Nicole and kids

Letter to the Editor

Sarasota Herald Tribune

By Jill Green

Re: Backpacker’s Guide to Costa Rica printed Sunday 8/16/2009

Letter to the Editor  in reply to an article “A Backpacker’s Guide to Costa Rica” in the Sun. Aug 16, 2009 edition

In her quest to find friends to party with, Anna Salinas lost sight of her original dual purpose of teaching English to Costa Ricans and learning something about the culture of this friendly Latin American country

If she wanted “the perfect untouristy spot” why did she pick the three most visited tourist destinations in the country, Monteverde Cloudforest, Manuel Antonio and Arenal Volcano? There are many other less visited attractions including miles of totally isolated beaches, mountains and rainforests.

At odds? One the one hand she’s wanting a non-touristy, see the country and culture vacation. On the other she wants to hang in the bars with her young backpacker friends. Guess which side wins. I appreciate youth, wanting to bond with peers, and party down. Maybe if she had traveled to small villages and met some of the wonderful warmhearted families, she would have experienced some of the simple pleasures and friendly culture of the country whose motto is “Pura Vida”.

True, I am biased after having lived in Costa Rica on and off for fifteen years. Yes, there are isolationist expats living locked in gated communities, thieves, and slums just as there are in the United States and every country in the world. But Costa Rica is still the gem of Central America with its working system of national health care, no army and a literacy rate higher than the U.S.

I begin to see a pattern here. First there were the warm sheets of rain falling on my head as I danced happily in the mudhole that was the Rainforest Aid Concert.  Then back in my neighborhood rain forest, a friend and I are hiking with the dogs when a tormenta of vast proportions and consequences strikes. Rumbling thunder escalates into a full-fledged war we can’t see somewhere beyond the giant trees. Night comes too early. Mist thickens to fog. Tina says her knee hurts and turns back. I’ve finally gotten out into the primary jungle and want to continue. It is so eerie, ethereal, exhilarating.

Now flashes of lightning break through. Warm forceful rain falls in splats then buckets. This is no slow progression. I call the dogs to turn back. Cookie leaps, runs and jumps in excitement. Koda cringes and gets all mixed up in my feet. Could there be two such totally different labs? A bomb burst of lightning hits behind my right shoulder lifting me off the ground. My feet, like pistons, are already pumping when I hit the ground running. Though I feel and smell the electricity I’m more afraid of a massive tree crashing down on me. The strikes continue, the rain pounds, Cookie thrills, Koda cowers, and we all run like hell until we hit the open road. I lift my arms and face to the sky and laugh wildly at experiencing nature unleashed. 

The next day we realize our water source has been obstructed, probably from a fallen tree or landslide. My daughter Nicole and grandson Sebastian go down to the spring to see if they can rectify the problem. Another pattern arises. Cookie slides to the forefront again. So soon after committing chicken murder there’s an attempt made on her life. Is it the law of the jungle, Darwin’s natural selection, both? Tune in next time for more Cookie Crumbs.

I’m returning to the Osa Peninsula in Costa Rica for the Rain Forest Aid 2009 concert June 19 - 21. The festival aims to raise $2 million for rain forest awareness, protection and regeneration and potentially fund a sustainable landfill for the Osa Peninsula in the next five years. That’s a massive goal, but whatever they reach will help save one of the world’s most biodiverse areas, which includes Corcovado National Park. For more information go to the website http://rainforestaid09.com.

Ten years ago two friends and I traveled down to the Osa for one of the most disastrous vacations I’ve ever had. For the ten year anniversary I have edited an almost memoir, The Last Resort, I wrote to commemorate that event and am posting it here. I will also be blogging about the concert. Check in. Send me information you’d like to share. Have fun! Dance. Listen. Learn from the indigenous people. Buy handcrafted items. Help save our environment.

RIO MORETE

The morning rains are over and the afternoon cloud cover hasn’t smothered us yet. “Let’s go to the river!” I suggest. 

“Oh, yes!” Sebastian jumps for joy. He’s still young enough at “almost eight” to do that. We pack a bag, call the pups Koda and Cookie, and set off down the steep jungle trail to the Rio Morete at the bottom of the property. I love having this time one-on-one with my grandson free from outside influence. I can be a kid again with him - laughing, singing, acting silly.

The dogs splash first into the crystal pool, legs outstretched, ears a-flapping. Sebas dives in upstream and rides the chute to greet them. I balance on the edge of the a small waterfall downstream and dive into the pool below. “Oh Fufi, let’s run the rocks to the big waterfall at the grotto. I’ll bet we can still get underneath it.” The rainy season has just started so the water levels are still manageable and the current is not yet at the “swept away” level.

“Let’s go. I’ll race you.” Of course he always beats me. He moves like a monkey perfectly balanced a bit forward and light on his feet. He’s been doing this since two years old. We pass through the impenetrable looking sheet of waterfall and pretend we live in its cave, then break through and take another slide to the grotto. The whole area below the falls is circled by sky reaching smooth grey rock carved into small circular pools. 

Sebas and I swim into one of them - like a miniature Jacuzzi. I see something undulating between us. “Oh, shit!” just comes out. In an adrenal rush, I grab Sebas and propel us out of there like bullets shot from a gun. “It’s a snake!” 

He’s excited. The scientist in him gets the best of his fear. “I wanna see it.” From a safe distance we stand on rocks and there it is. Still there. It obviously feels at home. We remember the details for identification later - 4 ft. long, black, skinny, narrow head. Doesn’t look poisonous but I’m not taking chances. What a story we have to tell when we get home. Swimming with a snake. We’ll add this one to our life list of animals of Costa Rica.

Sebastian and Koda on the rocks