Costa Rica: In Which We Test Our Life Insurance

I woke up a little after sunrise and took a bath in the ocean. It felt so good, especially considering how the previous day had been so muggy. Isn't it funny how clean hair and brushed teeth can make you feel so much better?

I set my toiletries on a rock and used them one by one. Sometime during shampooing, an exceptionally large wave crashed ashore and washed everything away! Luckily I was able to find everything except for a disposable razor. SORRY FOR POLLUTING YOU, EARTH!

After breaking camp we headed to breakfast at one of the little soda shops in town. In Costa Rica a "soda shop" is basically like a mini-mart, sometimes with a small restaurant attached. This was one of my favorite meals of the trip! We had a chocolate banana granola smoothie, fried eggs, a banana pancake, bacon, fried plantains, and a little bit of cheese. Riiiicisimooo!!!

Then on to adventure! Montezuma's main attraction is the set of three amazing waterfalls nearby. After a twenty-minute hike upriver through the jungle, we arrived at the first (and biggest) one.

If you look closely, you can see a pool above the waterfall--another waterfall feeds into that pool, and another  waterfall feeds into that  one. Freaking rad. We splashed around in the big pool of the lower falls for a little while, but we'd heard that the ones above were much quieter and secluded (most tourists just stop at the lower falls). So away we went! There really wasn't a trail, per se, but there were plenty of tree roots to help you scramble up the wet mountainside.

We wound our way through the jungle until we got to the pool of the third waterfall. Brock was stoked to find a rope swing and, since we were the only ones there, it didn't take long for him to channel his inner Tarzan. Sans loincloth.

Oh, it gets better. We'd heard that the pool beneath the second waterfall was super  deep . . .

Nothing screams "pura vida" like jumping of a 40-foot waterfall, eh? After splashing around a bit, we continued up the river using a trail off to the side. We found a beautiful set of pools farther up ahead and cooled off in them. It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

"Our" pools.

On our way back down into down, we snacked on some funky-lookin' fruit we'd bought at a soda shop. It's called mamon chino. The translucent flesh inside tastes similar to a grape, but with a sweet tropical tinge. Delicious! Once back in town, we ate an early dinner of ceviche  (Brock's favorite) at a small restaurant. The only tables it had were outside on a covered patio, which made it the perfect location for beggars... Cue the Mission: Impossible theme. These white-faced capuchin monkeys were everywhere! We literally ate dinner about six feet away from a dozen of them. The owners of the restaurant have completely enabled monkeys' antics by always throwing them scraps. You really have to keep your eye on them! When a server turned her back on a table (for all of five seconds), one of these monkeys lept from a branch, onto the table, and stole a sugar packet from a jar! Little sneak. This little sucker found a loose section of the tin roof and would bang it up and down in hopes of dinner scraps. It was cute the first time. Then it got freaking annoying. After dinner we spent a blissful hour down at the beach. It was cool and overcast, so we just laid ourselves down in the sand and talked. With a few hours left until sundown, we decided to take a mini road-trip up to the hills above Montezuma. It was a gorgeous countryside, with lots of rolling pastures and farms. Just as we were about to turn back, Brock asked the car behind us if there was anything cool up ahead. "Oh, yeah!" she said. "The town of Santa Teresa. It's awesome--so much better than Montezuma." Sweet! I thought. Santa Teresa was on the itinerary for tomorrow anyway, and since we were halfway there, we figured we'd just keep going. (Ah, the beauty of backpacking--you can get up and go whenever!)  Well, that lady must've been on something, because Santa Teresa was a hell-hole. It was the perfect example of what happens when you let surf bums invade your city. The only thing people do in Santa Teresa is surf and smoke weed. Not exactly a recipe for a dynamic, thriving community. We got a really bad vibe there (lovingly referring to it thereafter as "Satan Town"). Camping wasn't allowed on the beach (a few years ago there were a lot of surfers literally living there), and even if it had been allowed, I don't know that we would've felt safe. So we splurged! A couple kilometers outside of town we found a cute place where we could stay in a private bungalow. Breakfast included. For a whopping $40. After settling in, we went back into town to grab some snacks. We loaded up on junk food: Hazelnut milk, raspberry shortbread cookies, Doritos, and--drumroll, please!--Kinder Bueno bars!!! I hadn't seem them since Jordan, so I was one happy girl. We came back and ate The Feast while playing cards (I AM THE QUEEN OF "SPEED"!). It was so much fun that we made it a nightly tradition for the rest of our trip! After some hot showers, we settled into bed and fell asleep to the sounds of the rainforest. Had I known that all that chirping outside was made not by birds, but by BATS clinging to the netting around our room, I probably wouldn't have slept so soundly. Ignorance is bliss!

Costa Rica: In Which We Meet Our Rental Car's Deductible Twenty Minutes After Driving Off The Lot

Saturday, July 14, 2012. 6:01 AM

 

Backpacks loaded in the trunk, cruising to San Jose, George Michael on the radio. Pura vida, baby.

Saturday, July 14, 2012. 6:09AM

Our brakes give out and we coast to a stop . . . into the back of a bus. Here we are waiting for cops and an insurance man to come to fill out paperwork. Goodbye, $1200 deductible.

To say that our Costa Rica trip did not get out to the best start would be an understatement. The best part? After this accident, the brakes started working again. (Do I happen to have any car-savvy blog readers who could explain this? A mechanic from the rental company looked at the car afterward--brake fluid was fine.) When we explained what happened to Hertz, everyone there looked at us like we were total liars. And really, who could blame them? We have no proof. Now that we're back home, we're ready to put up our dukes and fight. I know I have a few friends taking the bar exam soon. Pro bono work, anyone?! :)

We almost let this spoil the vacation. As in, thought about catching the next flight back home. But we decided to stick it out and continued our journey in a now-banged-up Daihatsu Bego. Yep. We drove that same car around. Getting a new one would've meant another $1200 hold on our credit card. Plus, why rent a new car when you've already met your deductible on an old one?! Any ensuing accident would be "free!" FREE CAR WRECKS FOR ALL!!!!!!!

We made our way to the port town of Puntarenas to catch the ferry across the Gulf of Nicoya. You know that website People of Walmart? I'm pretty sure its Costa Rican equivalent is People of Puntarenas. Seriously. We arrived at this hot, dirty, dingy city and really started wondering if this whole Costa Rica thing was all it was cracked up to be...

After waiting a sweltering  two hours for the next ferry over, we boarded the boat and made our way to Paquera. I'm pretty sure I cried the whole way over. Both Brock and I were going on very little sleep (about seven hours total in the previous two days), I was PMSing, overwhelmed with the rental car situation, etc. During the ride, we chatted with a nice man from Canada who one-upped our car story with a Costa Rican nightmare he'd lived through the previous year. It involved him, a motorcycle, a terrible accident, and a five-hour painkiller-less ordeal to the nearest hospital. It 50% put things in perspective, 50% annoyed me. (I'm usually cool with brushing off one-upmanship, but not when I'm having, like, the shittiest day ever.)

Our destination, Montezuma, was still another hour away from Paquera. Luckily most of the road was paved so it didn't take too long to get there. Montezuma is a super small town (two streets that form a T, that's it), but it has an awesome vibe. Very bohemian. Dreadlocks everywhere. (Locals call it "Montefuma" because of all the Mary Jane.) We grabbed some Italian food for dinner, which I KNOW is lame because we were in Costa Rica, but whatever. After a day like that, all I wanted was a chilled Coke and some pizza. Sue me. (Unless you're Hertz Rental Car, in which case I SUE YOU.)

After a quick splash in the ocean, we set up camp--right on the beach! I cried some more. Brock and I had officially deemed it a Day of Mourning, so I guess I was trying to meet my tear deductible. But then the coolest thing happened. As we turned off our lantern to go to sleep, we saw tinkling lights. Everywhere.

Fireflies. It was so beautiful watching them that any thought of deductibles or insurance or battles with Hertz faded away. Kind of like those fireflies--flickering on, off, on, off, until daylight came and they disappeared completely.

That night's sleep was just what we needed to recharge our batteries. It was a testament to our exhaustion that we slept at all--it was so unbearably hot! But it's easy to fall asleep to an ocean lullaby. I loved hearing the tide roll in at around 2AM, with the waves crashing closer and closer.

Hard to say you've had a bad day when it ends like that.

Finally in Montezuma!

Awesome signs on a bathroom door.

Mormon wine.

Not a bad view.

To the left of our campsite.

To the right.

Honest Cover Letters: Part Two

FOR JOBS THAT I AM SLIGHTLY UNDER-QUALIFIED FOR

Dear Sir/Madam:

I will be your slave. No, really. When you asked for my "desired salary" I selected the lowest one, but I would've gone lower if it had been an option. "Lower" as in free. I would do this job for free. And not just to pad my resume, either. If you forbade me from listing this on my resume, I wouldn't care. That's  how badly I want the experience of working for you, doing this job that is perfectly aligned with my talents and interests.

I don't have two years of professional experience, but think about it this way: It took me an extra two years to finish college because I made a last-minute decision to learn Arabic. I can guarantee  that learning Arabic is a bajillion times harder than any entry-level job anywhere. If I can jaywalk across an eight-lane highway in Amman like the locals, I'm pretty  sure I can survive in your office.

Really, though. I know you're looking at my resume and thinking "Ugh, recent grad, gross," but I'm a bit older and wiser than the average recent grad. You know what's more telling of a person's character than professional experience? Getting married at eighteen when everyone thinks you're crazy. And then dealing with newlywed shiz as you and your spouse both work five long years toward college degrees, the Boston Marathon, internships, and a study abroad program in the Middle East.

I'm smart, articulate, quick-witted, and driven. I'm teachable, a fast learner, and I don't make excuses for my own failures. You will love working with me. Plus, don't you have some quota to fill for hiring women? BONUS!

The best time to reach me is whenever since I will be obsessively checking my inbox for your email from now till November (at which point I will probably give up hope for a response). I'm available to work whenever, and by "whenever" I mean Thanksgiving, Christmas, ANY TIME YOU WANT. I look forward to hearing from you so we can talk more about my dream job.


Sincerely,


Kristi Boyce

Honest Cover Letters: Part One

FOR JOBS THAT I AM OVER-QUALIFIED FOR

Dear Sir/Madam:

Let's be honest, you're lucky I'm even applying. This position doesn't require a college degree, but you're asking for four years of "relevant" experience? TO BE A SECRETARY? You must be trippin'. Wanna know how long it would take me to master the skills required to do this job? Four minutes. That either makes me a Ninja Secretary or a person with an IQ in the triple digits. HINT: I'm both.

I would excel at this job because I am not a total moron. Microsoft Office? I'm all over that shiz. Phone-answering? Done. Data entry? PWNED. You probably don't even know what PWNED means, don't you? Maybe you would if you had four years of "relevant" experience . . .

I'm organized, a team-player, go-getter, dependable, blah blah blah, I'm just hoping the internet spiders in your hiring system find those words, blah blah blah. I don't even really need this job, you know? I got a sugar-daddy husband who is basically paying my way through life right now. The thing is though, we'd like to save a little more than we're currently able to and c'mon, Blendtec blenders don't just grow on TREES. I need your money. You need a new hire whose semi-competent and can make herself look busy for the 85% of the workday that's devoid of obligations. It's pretty much fate. You probably didn't even notice that I used the wrong "whose/who's" did you? Like I said, you're lucky I'm applying.

I promise to ooh and ahh over pictures of your cat if you promise not to judge me when I clock out at 5:00PM on the dot. What, you think this is my dream job? The best time to reach me is whenever since I'm a worthless piece of crap who writes faux cover letters on her blog. I'm available to work whenever, and by "whenever" I mean no weekends or evenings. I look forward to hearing from you so we can talk more about this position that will in no way advance my career goals.

Sincerely,

Kristi Boyce

Arts Wrap: June 2012

Book--Fiction: Tinkers 

Fair warning: This book got passed up by every major publisher for good reason. It has no plot. It's molasses-slow. It's a little overwritten at times. But the final product is the most poetic reflection on life, living, death, and dying that I've ever read. 

When it finally got published, nobody noticed. Then it won the Pulitzer. Everybody noticed.

"[Tinkers] confers on the reader the best privilege fiction can afford, the illusion of ghostly proximity to other human souls." - Marilynne Robinson

***

Book--Non-Fiction: On Writing Well

A seminal book in the world of writing how-to. Zinsser is a master of his craft who imbues wit, warmth, and humor into anything he puts on a page. This book has made me a more conscious writer. If you love the English language as much as I do, On Writing Well  belongs on your bookshelf.

***

Television: Mad Men

I was impressed with the first three seasons of Mad Men, but not in love. It had talented actors and well-written storylines, but nobody seemed to be going  anywhere in terms of character development.

Then BOOM. Seasons four and five happened.

***

Film: Jiro Dreams of Sushi

I saw this documentary at the IFC Center when we were living in New York. I was so inspired by Jiro and the love he has for his art--how he's always  trying to improve upon it, how he hates taking days off. As a millenial, I'm so tired of trite pep-talks about being passionate about what I do, choosing a career that I'm passionate  about, blah blah blah. 

Watch it in action. (Along with some serious food porn.)

***

Music: Radical Face and The Random Canyon Growlers

The more I listen to Ben Cooper (the one man behind the one-man band of Radical Face), the more obsessed I am with his music.

Brock and I saw the Random Canyon Growlers at the SLC Farmer's Market a few weeks ago and haven't stopped listening to their sounds-like-it-was-recorded-in-a-basement sampler CD since! So refreshing to hear a group of young guys playing killer  bluegrass. It ain't dead yet, folks!

***

Photography: Ian Ruhter's "Silver and Light"

In lieu of my past "Dance" category (which, c'mon, is kind of a hard one to fill every month), take a gander at what Ian Ruhter is doing with his camera/truck/time machine.

"Ruhter started shooting snowboarding in the mid ’90s after a stint as a notoriously rowdy pro rider. When print media moved from film to digital, so did he, but he became jaded on the lack of artistry and the amount of computer editing that was required. He missed the physicality of processing photos. He tried switching back to film, but couldn’t get the materials he wanted. Then he found wet plate, where, with a little bit of chemistry, he could make all of the supplies himself."

Photo Source

***

Comedy: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

A few weeks ago, my mom took me to this musical at the Playmill Theater in West Yellowstone. When she told me that the original movie starred Michael Caine and Steve Martin, I knew I had to see it. 

***

Food: Five Star BBQ Company

You know how in those awful new-fangled country songs they sing about drivin' to the honkytonk and don't-stop-till-you-hear-a-banjo jizzjazz? They're talking about places like Five Star. Head out into the boonies on Geneva Road and you'll find it just beyond an old bar called The Hitching Post (I am not making this up). 

Five Star is a family-run restaurant that opened up about a year and half ago, and has since gained a rabid following of loyal customers. For good reason. The man behind the magic, JT, served his mission in the South and learned a thing or two about comfort food down there. His slow-cooked meats (brisket, pulled pork, smoked sausage, ribs...) are heavenly, but equally impressive are his homemade sauces and sides--all of which are made in-house. Sweet applesauce, cheesy mac, smoked beans, cornbread and honey-butter . . . oh, man. Don't forget to try JT's wife's pumpkin cake! If you're lucky, JT might have cooked up a fresh apple pie that day. If so, BUY A SLICE. 

It gets better: Brock and I both ate a veritable BBQ feast  here for less than $20. If that's not a reason to support local business, I don't know what is.

***

Fashion: Karla Deras

Pretty sure Karla is my BFF who just doesn't know it yet. How could you not  want to chop all your hair off after looking at this girl?! Beats me--which is why I did it. Karla says her style is "like a pot of stew with simplicity being the beef and androgyny and femininity being the vegetables. Oh and spontaneity is the secret ingredient!" See what I mean? BFFs.

Karla's style is all over the board and the reason it works is because she has rockin' confidence. This woman is BOLD and I love it!

Can you  make a simple tank top look amazing? Image from Karla's Closet.

 ***

Journalism: Tim Kreider and Dave McRaney

"The Busy Trap" by Tim Kreider

see also: "Why Only Yuppies Complain About Being Busy" by Jordan Weissmann

I love this piece because it touched on a lot of feelings that I've been dealing with lately. Namely, feeling like a disgusting reprobate for not  being out-of-my-mind busy. 

If you live in America in the 21st century you’ve probably had to listen to a lot of people tell you how busy they are. It’s become the default response when you ask anyone how they’re doing: “Busy!” “So busy.” “Crazy busy.” It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. And the stock response is a kind of congratulation: “That’s a good problem to have,” or “Better than the opposite." 

It’s almost always people whose lamented busyness is purely self-imposed: work and obligations they’ve taken on voluntarily, classes and activities they’ve “encouraged” their kids to participate in. They’re busy because of their own ambition or drive or anxiety, because they’re addicted to busyness and dread what they might have to face in its absence. 

Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day. 

Well guys, I'm in the throes of it now and I can tell you that it's freaking scary. Maybe I'll write a blog post on this later.

"Procrastination" by Dave McRaney

Again, another piece that I related to so well! I found this article through my friend Weston who is THE biggest procrastinator I've ever met (hey, takes one to know one!). This article talked about metacognition as a way to end procrastination. 

You must be adept at thinking about thinking to defeat yourself at procrastination. You must realize there is the you who sits there now reading this, and there is a you sometime in the future who will be influenced by a different set of ideas and desires, a you in a different setting where an alternate palette of brain functions will be available for painting reality. 

The now you may see the costs and rewards at stake when it comes time to choose studying for the test instead of going to the club, eating the salad instead of the cupcake, writing the article instead of playing the video game. 

The trick is to accept the now you will not be the person facing those choices, it will be the future you – a person who can’t be trusted. Future-you will give in, and then you’ll go back to being now-you and feel weak and ashamed. Now-you must trick future-you into doing what is right for both parties.

Isn't that a great thought?! For a control freak like me, it was revolutionary.

Capable psychonauts who think about thinking, about states of mind, about set and setting, can get things done not because they have more will power, more drive, but because they know productivity is a game of cat and mouse versus a childish primal human predilection for pleasure and novelty which can never be excised from the soul. Your effort is better spent outsmarting yourself than making empty promises through plugging dates into a calendar or setting deadlines for push ups.

You can thank that article for this blog post today.