My friends, there is no position more compromising than taking a shower. Let's face it - when loofing, we have no self defense. There is no way to run, no way to hide, and any sudden defensive maneuvers will no doubt culminate in a hilarious flailing of appendages. It was under this pretext that, when cleansing myself one day in Costa Rica, I discovered firsthand how the average Costa Rican enjoys hot water while showering.
Folks, as I stood there, with refreshing hot water cascading from my body, I realized the source. Two electric wires ran right to the showerhead, where they were crudely spliced with black electric tape, to a heating element buried inside the showerhead itself. A simplistic switch was mounted to the front of the head. Out of curiosity, I flipped the switch. I could see a blue spark flash through the plastic, and suddenly I was without hot water. I flipped the switch back on, and promptly received a nice little shock because, as anyone should know, two electric wires do not equal a ground.
Having survived the shower, I said goodbye to my new friends in Guapiles, and grabbed a bus to the capital of San Jose. I had been on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica for nearly a week, taking part in Expo Pococi as a representative of Green County Agriculture. Now that my duties at the Expo had expired, I was to pick up my father in San Jose, and head to the Pacific coast for a few days of scuba diving.
When Dad and I arrived at our dive resort at Playa Ocotal, I discovered a side of Costa Rica vastly different to the more authentic one I had just left. It was obvious that piles of foreign investment have reshaped the Pacific coast - road signs were now in English, as were billboards, restaurant menus and even bathroom stalls. It was a little unnerving when I passed under a monumental roadside advertisement featuring a postcard-perfect view of a secluded coastal bay. Gigantic bold lettering blared, "Own This View!"
It was only after careful consideration that Dad and I had booked our stay at Ocotal Beach Resort. Defying logic, so many foreign resorts offer their guests everything they could want, from swimming pools, to five meals a day, to unlimited drinks, to tennis courts and golf courses - all for one convenient all-inclusive price! My friends, if you are going to travel all the way to Costa Rica to go golfing and eat at one place, why even leave home? As I mused to my dad, "We can go to Costa Rica and have Bud Light, too!"
Rather, Dad and I rented a car, and decided to check out the countryside. We experienced the pedestrian and pothole-dodging joy of driving in Costa Rica. We ate fresh tropical fruit, seafood and tried genuine Costa Rican beef - delicious! I must add that the scrumptiousness of the steak is only complimented by ice-cold Imperial, and as a side note, some of the best atmosphere can be found at a side booth in an open-air restaurant overlooking a busy street in a foreign city. Not every son has the chance to spend this quality of time with his father, and I treasured every minute.
Well, Dad and I did not travel all the way to Costa Rica's Pacific Coast to engage in culinary critique, although I must say it is a rather enjoyable appointment. Our stay at Ocotal Beach Resort included three full days of scuba diving, which we whole-heartedly embraced. Our dives took us just offshore, to an average depth of 80 feet. We were led by local divemasters Pazz, Sebastian and Chipopa, and joined by a group of divers from Holland. We saw rays, trumpetfish, mating octopi and countless moray eels. Kneeling on the sandy bottom and peering under a sunken fishing vessel, we watched a White tip Reef Shark get its teeth cleaned by a cleaner wrasse. During surface intervals we watched Devil Rays jump several feet out of the water, attempting to rid themselves of parasites.
Unfortunately, we also were witnesses to the dark side of coastal development. Visibility in these waters was poor - as low as 25 feet on one dive. I swam over a vast bed of branching Acropora Coral that, instead of being vibrant and beautiful in its usual array of red, green, brown, or blue hues, was grey and white - the entire colony had been choked out and killed by sediment. Chipopa informed me that just in the past five years, all offshore coral has been smothered by coastal runoff.
All too soon, Dad's and my time at Ocotal was complete. As our flight banked over the coastline, we got a bird's eye view of the Pacific. Noticeably, the steep coastal hillsides were carved open in preparation for new vacation homes and resorts. These deep lacerations exposed bare soil, which oozed brown blood into the bays. The blue water of the Pacific turned to coffee as it neared the coast. Clearly, the artificial ingredients of Costa Rica come with a heavy price.
Fortunately, exchange programs like the ones at Monroe High School expose participants to the more authentic and natural side of a foreign culture. As the Monroe-Guapiles exchange program remains strong and continues to grow, I'm sure we will return to Central America sooner, rather than later. Until then, 'Pura Vida!' my friends!
- Dan Wegmueller is a columnist for The Monroe Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Folks, as I stood there, with refreshing hot water cascading from my body, I realized the source. Two electric wires ran right to the showerhead, where they were crudely spliced with black electric tape, to a heating element buried inside the showerhead itself. A simplistic switch was mounted to the front of the head. Out of curiosity, I flipped the switch. I could see a blue spark flash through the plastic, and suddenly I was without hot water. I flipped the switch back on, and promptly received a nice little shock because, as anyone should know, two electric wires do not equal a ground.
Having survived the shower, I said goodbye to my new friends in Guapiles, and grabbed a bus to the capital of San Jose. I had been on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica for nearly a week, taking part in Expo Pococi as a representative of Green County Agriculture. Now that my duties at the Expo had expired, I was to pick up my father in San Jose, and head to the Pacific coast for a few days of scuba diving.
When Dad and I arrived at our dive resort at Playa Ocotal, I discovered a side of Costa Rica vastly different to the more authentic one I had just left. It was obvious that piles of foreign investment have reshaped the Pacific coast - road signs were now in English, as were billboards, restaurant menus and even bathroom stalls. It was a little unnerving when I passed under a monumental roadside advertisement featuring a postcard-perfect view of a secluded coastal bay. Gigantic bold lettering blared, "Own This View!"
It was only after careful consideration that Dad and I had booked our stay at Ocotal Beach Resort. Defying logic, so many foreign resorts offer their guests everything they could want, from swimming pools, to five meals a day, to unlimited drinks, to tennis courts and golf courses - all for one convenient all-inclusive price! My friends, if you are going to travel all the way to Costa Rica to go golfing and eat at one place, why even leave home? As I mused to my dad, "We can go to Costa Rica and have Bud Light, too!"
Rather, Dad and I rented a car, and decided to check out the countryside. We experienced the pedestrian and pothole-dodging joy of driving in Costa Rica. We ate fresh tropical fruit, seafood and tried genuine Costa Rican beef - delicious! I must add that the scrumptiousness of the steak is only complimented by ice-cold Imperial, and as a side note, some of the best atmosphere can be found at a side booth in an open-air restaurant overlooking a busy street in a foreign city. Not every son has the chance to spend this quality of time with his father, and I treasured every minute.
Well, Dad and I did not travel all the way to Costa Rica's Pacific Coast to engage in culinary critique, although I must say it is a rather enjoyable appointment. Our stay at Ocotal Beach Resort included three full days of scuba diving, which we whole-heartedly embraced. Our dives took us just offshore, to an average depth of 80 feet. We were led by local divemasters Pazz, Sebastian and Chipopa, and joined by a group of divers from Holland. We saw rays, trumpetfish, mating octopi and countless moray eels. Kneeling on the sandy bottom and peering under a sunken fishing vessel, we watched a White tip Reef Shark get its teeth cleaned by a cleaner wrasse. During surface intervals we watched Devil Rays jump several feet out of the water, attempting to rid themselves of parasites.
Unfortunately, we also were witnesses to the dark side of coastal development. Visibility in these waters was poor - as low as 25 feet on one dive. I swam over a vast bed of branching Acropora Coral that, instead of being vibrant and beautiful in its usual array of red, green, brown, or blue hues, was grey and white - the entire colony had been choked out and killed by sediment. Chipopa informed me that just in the past five years, all offshore coral has been smothered by coastal runoff.
All too soon, Dad's and my time at Ocotal was complete. As our flight banked over the coastline, we got a bird's eye view of the Pacific. Noticeably, the steep coastal hillsides were carved open in preparation for new vacation homes and resorts. These deep lacerations exposed bare soil, which oozed brown blood into the bays. The blue water of the Pacific turned to coffee as it neared the coast. Clearly, the artificial ingredients of Costa Rica come with a heavy price.
Fortunately, exchange programs like the ones at Monroe High School expose participants to the more authentic and natural side of a foreign culture. As the Monroe-Guapiles exchange program remains strong and continues to grow, I'm sure we will return to Central America sooner, rather than later. Until then, 'Pura Vida!' my friends!
- Dan Wegmueller is a columnist for The Monroe Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
