Somos Locos

Trip Start Oct 08, 2009
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26
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Trip End Nov 13, 2009


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Flag of Costa Rica  , Cartago,
Sunday, November 15, 2009

hello all

 

  I am still alive, still in the town of Turrialba, and it is still raining.  I left you guys off before I was about to go on my 7th wheel date. We ended up going out of town to a Christmas themed restaurant.  Our conversations ranged from, why Americans were so obsessed with winning all the time, how European soccer players can handle playing so many games, and the different sizes of cement trucks in different countries.  It was a nice cultural experience, although I was ten years younger than everyone and the only non EUer.  They all left early the next morning, they seemed to think that rafting was all Turrialba has to offer.  In a stroke of laziness and lack of anything better to do I stayed. 

  I wasted most of the morning playing on the Internet and watching a movie.  If I was not going to have an activity for the day, I decided I needed to at least get a little culture.  I thought  hmmm, where can I find culture at 4:30 on a rainy Saturday afternoon in a town with no museums, and no interesting buildings?  So I said screw it and went to the bar.

   The bar I found was completely empty, except for a man in the corner and the bartender.  Soccer was playing on the TV and they advertised cheap beer so I went in for one.  Soon after the man in the corner became very animated, stumbling toward me shouting things I did not understand.  All I knew was he sounded angry and every once in a while I heard him say the United States.  Thinking on my toes I quickly told him that I was Canadian and my name was Ralph.  His anger ended immediately, and a drunk sloppy smile came over his face.  He pulled his chair right next to mine and put his arm around me.  I must have had a way with words because he then bought my next round of beers.  I got a little freaked out and told him I was headed to go watch the Calypso band in the park.  He shouted that he wanted to go as well. I soon found myself walking through the streets with the drunkest man I have ever seen.  It was OK because he seemed to know everyone.  He kept saying that this was his town and he was crazy, and an alcoholic.  Later when I asked him his name all he would tell me was Loco.  Somehow through the coarse of conversation he decided he liked me so much that I was also locoSomos locos. Each bartender we saw seemed to know him, and he continued to buy me drinks. At the beginning he told me he was the director of the university, later he became the best lawyer in town.  Whatever his profession was, we were in his town and he was crazy.  Finally I was getting a bit drunk and told him I needed to go to the Internet.  He came with me and made a huge scene in the cafe.  He seemed to know everyone there as well.  Finally we agreed to meet again in an hour at the first bar in order to watch the soccer game.  I went to the bar and watched the game. unfortunately my loco friend did not show.  I was not able to make another friend, so I went back to the hostel and went to bed.

   This morning I woke up a little fuzzy but ready for some activity.  Unfortunately the zip line yours still did not have enough people to make the trip.  So I decided to take a ducky down a different river.  (A ducky is a small inflatable Kayak)  The name of the river I went on was the Pejibaye. We took a bunch of dirt roads through small towns, payed a random woman two dollars and made it to the put in.  While we were waiting, one car drove by.  It was a really old jeep, the same one Hunter Thompson drives to the dirt bike rally in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  The driver also had a hat on like Hunter.  The licence plate was LENIN. (This has no importance to anything else, I just felt like I should write it. It was mostly for Parker).

     Finally we were ready to run the river.  It was just me and the guide and his buddy.  They would lead the way through the rapids.  Before each rapid he would point his paddle to the left right or middle, and that was the line I was supposed to take.  I had an amazing time, hitting rocks and going through rapids backwards.  The river is not as picturesque as the Pacuare but beautiful none the less.  I saw another toucan.  I think this was Sam's brother Aaron, because his wings were far more colorful.  He also flew at a different pattern.  He would flap his wings really hard and then spread them out and soar over the water.  He was not as interesting as Toucan Sam and his missile like tendencies.  All in all a great morning, I enjoyed the ducky more than the rafting.

    This afternoon I decided to skip the archaeological site, and get some real culture at the local soccer game.  I arrived to a packed house as the pictures will show.  It was Turrialba against the town over.  Tensions rose towards the end.  This barn burner ended with the other teams goalie passing the ball to the Turrialba forward,  and the forward passing the ball into the net. There was no score board so I did not know that this was the last 5 seconds, or that this meant that the game was tied.  The peanut gallery was not happy, one broke his umbrella on the stands in anger.  I had to ask a man who did not seem very angry what this meant for the game.  At least now I can say I watched a soccer game in Central America.     

  
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Comments

pkgowa
pkgowa on

Nice work Ralph, sounds like a friend I would find. Quick thinking going cunuckian! Say hello to Toucan Hunter when you see him next for me.

igowan on

Ralph???!! Why not Colletti? I think that his team is missing him right now. They are playing New England College and St. Anselm's this week-end at Saratoga.

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