Light in a Bamboo Whisper

 The wind whispers in the bamboo and I think someone is calling me. Faintly, so faintly that I am not sure if it is my imagination. So I sit under the arching branches and listen, quietly, breathlessly even wondering who it might be. I am waiting to hear, you see. Waiting for an answer, waiting for a sign, and I think I might hear it in the bamboo. You never know these days where light might come in, and I think if I sit long enough, and still enough, I might hear it.

Tiki Laundry Surrender

Tiki Laundry. You cannot imagine how good it feels to watch brilliant white linens waving like flags of surrender in the wind. Surrender to a simple life. Surrender to cold showers and butterflies and sunshine drying and foreign languages and chickens that were supposed to be egg-laying chickens but aren't and are now simply part of the family and will continue to be happy chickens.

Surrender is not about living without, but rather living with. It requires a change of perspective. I choose to let the wind take me to a place where I get to have showers that cool my body from the heat of the day, and I get to chase butterflies, and I get to hang sweet-smelling wash out on the line, and I get to stretch my brain and learn new words, and I get to chase fluffy white chickens and hear them happily clucking as they chase bugs and nibble on left-over bits of papaya.

Surrender is not such a bad thing.

:-)

Malay Apple Jam, Rum, and Chickens

Manzana de agua, Malay Apples, Rose Apples, Mountain Apples; these little pear-strawberry flavored gems go by all these names. I discovered them hanging high in the branches of a tree here at the Tiki Bar and enticed Ani to fetch them for me.

After washing and pitting, it will take hours to boil them down and I have added sugar, cinnamon and a little rum to help turn them into a lovely red jam.

I promise to let you know how it turns out...even if it is a flop and I end up feeding it to the chickens.
They love fruit of all kinds and anyway, it would be interesting to see how they like the rum...

Beware of Falling Mangoes

There is a book I love called An Embarrassment of Mangoes. Its about a couple sailing in the Caribbean, meeting locals, and collecting recipes. It is nearly my favorite book of all time because this is what I want to do with my life...sail the Caribbean and collect people and recipes. Little did I dream one day I would own a Tiki Bar and B&B in Costa Rica, much less one gifted with mango trees. In fact, I do think I am going to need to post a WATCH FOR FALLING MANGOES sign above my door as the still green fruit is falling off the trees. I have no idea why. A local told me the tree sheds the unwanted-unfit fruit before it ripens. I am glad no-one has shed me.

So I am waiting for the fruit to ripen and dreaming of ways to use it: mango-chili chutney, mango mohitos, mango ice-cream, mango topped burgers. I am dreaming quite actively actually, as it looks like soon I will be the proud owner of an embarrassment of mangoes!

Hair-raising Noises in the Rainforest

As you watch this video, make sure you turn up the sound.

 

Haunting. Hair-raising. I cannot imagine the fear that would have run through my veins, the adrenaline rush, the chills, had I been a wanderer here 300 years ago, standing on this coast, a European discoverer with no clue as the what was making this sound. 

I like to imagine it. I am standing on a mountain peeking through the mango, papaya, and almond trees. Mist from the early morning is rising along with the humidity. I can hear the waves of the Great Pacific off in the distance and exotic birds call to each other across the valley. 

You finish the story. I am here today and this is my reality. I am thankful I can listen to these cries and know where they are coming from. Never-the-less, an early morning in this rainforest has a way of taking me out of my comfort zone and awakening something more primal within me.

Rainforest Pizza

If you are traveling in Costa Rica and have never been here before, you should be excited about the roasted chicken sign. The chicken will be tender and juicy and accompanied by black beans and rice and most likely some kind of coleslaw. It will be cheap and served to you by a small Costa Rican woman who has lived here all her life and speaks not a lick of English. Signs like this are a treasure to the traveler. They represent the chance to connect with the culture in an authentic way.

However...

If you have been living in third world countries for the last two years, and you have enjoyed enough chicken that it is coming out your ears, you will find your heart leaping at the appearance of a sign directing you to PIZZA out in the middle of the Costa Rican rainforest. The pizza may not have a thick crust and it may not be dripping with layers of mozzarella cheese, but that is OK because it is not chicken.  Of course you can get your pizza topped with chicken, OR...you can get it topped with chorizo sausage, pineapple, and palm hearts....mmm

Mr. Flutter-by

Flutter-by, why are you drying your wings in the morning? Is it because the night is damp and the weight of the dew has you down? I know how you feel Mr. Flutter-by. I too need to dry the water from my wings. Perhaps if I stand very still you can teach me how to catch the first rays of the morning. Perhaps if I remain very quiet I can catch the small whisper that reminds me that I, like you, will fly high again if I will only alight on a safe place and open my heart and let the sun in.