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.

Cappuccino and Monkeys

 

This guy was part of a troop of Capuchin monkeys swinging down the mountain toward the beach. They used my roof and the trees around my house as part of their afternoon path.  Apparently, this guy needed a little cappuccino pick me up. The long trip down the mountain had him yawning.

I do love how the monkeys come nearly every day. Since I have been here I have seen three different types including these guys, the tiny titi monkeys, and beefy looking howler monkeys. It's one of those things where every time they appear in the trees, I run for my camera. I suppose one day I might get used to wild, rainforest animals. I guess it is inevitable that I will not have my heart jump when I see a two toed sloth carrying a baby, or a 5 foot long iguana racing across the lawn (one did today). But until that day, I am certain I will continue to  run for my camera, unable to imagine that that day could ever come.

Tiki Bar and Trust

Progress. We are making some serious progress on the Tiki Bar. Today I hired a chef to make Caribbean tapas for me and I talked with Imperial (local Costa Rica Beverage Company) to deliver THREE coolers. Yes that is three, big coolers full of, well... let's just say full.

Anyway, the point is that progress is being made and it looks as if the Tiki Bar will be up and running for a grande party next weekend. I can't wait. This is amazing to me. I am living in Costa Rica opening a restaurant right next to the most beautiful national park in the whole country (And that is according to Forbes Magazine. I didn't come up with that myself.)

Now I believe that progress means work, and work means effort, and effort means--when you have a dream, you don't just dream it. You keep dreaming it and allow it to morph into what it wants to be. And you can't allow that--you can't let down your guard and allow the dream to come--unless you take risks. And taking risks is not easy. Risks mean having to trust yourself, your environment, the people around you, and the universe in general. That is a lot of trusting. It leaves you feeling a little like you are free-falling, like the bottom may fall out. It leaves you fearing that some of that trust may be in vain, which opens up the great pit of "the possibility of failure." But if we spend all our time worrying about what might go wrong, we never seem to get to what might go right.

We are making progress here at the Tiki Bar, and I am learning to take risks, and, yes, I am learning to trust too.

A Broken Hallelujah

Never in my life have I seen the sun so enormous. It seems we are close enough to the equator here to effect the very size of the sun. We sat and had dinner at a restaurant high up on the mountain and while the Spanish band played Hallelujah on guitar and congas, the sun sank into the sea. This was one of those moments that are hard to describe. The words of the song speak of a humble and a broken Hallelujah and in the moment that the super-sized sun touch the horizon, tears streamed down my face as I realized that it is from of our brokenness and humble honesty that things of  life and value emerge. I think we all try to cover the sadness and disappointment we feel with focusing on the positives in life, but I find it is in admitting the reality of how we feel deep down inside and embracing it and allowing it to do its work in us that we are profoundly and forever changed.