El y Ella, or You and Me.

          I met a friend through another friend. His name is Chuck, and he lives in a town  I've been wanting to visit because it has a volcano in it, one that is supposedly less frequently visited and quite beautiful. So of course I invited myself to spend the night on my friend's couch. We met up after I finished my classes, which were in Heredia anyway due to a guest lecturer, and Heredia is much closer to Barva than I would ordinarily be on a Tuesday afternoon. Chuck happens to have Tuesday afternoons off from work, which just seemed to work out too perfectly, you know? (In case you were looking for foreshadowing in that one, it wasn't intended, it did work out pretty perfectly, uttered without sarcasm or irony.) 

           We hung out around Heredia chatting and discovering each other's favorite childhood memory (or some other subject over which we  bonded, I forget); when we finally realized what time it was, it was already 12:30. Buses back to Barva and back to San José had stopped running hours ago (OK, so maybe only an hour, but either way we were stuck!) so we ended up having to (chastely, mind you) get a hotel. We solicited a cab driver to take us to the nearest, cheapest hotel, and as the desk worker handed us our room #7 we simultaneously noticed the name of the place: El y Ella. Him and Her, for those English speaking readers. One could only speculate the type of activities that occurred in such an establishment, and Chuck and I half-jokingly threw around the idea of asking for the price difference if we paid by the hour.

So, here we are, a non-couple in a very couple-intended facility, and this is what we found in Room #7: 

• There was a hole in our bedroom floor that looked into the bathroom of the room below. That is a lie, however, because upon further inspection the supposed bathroom contained mops, buckets and other janitor-worthy cleaning supplies. But there was still a hole in our floor!
  
• The bathroom "door" was a see-through yellow shower curtain, and there were at least 2 cockroaches who failed to understand the point of remaining inconspicuously hidden from view. And one of them was massive, I might add, and obviously the cleaner, less-diseased of the two because he resided in the shower.
• The window had a great view.....of the roof next door and probably a fifty foot high smokestack pouring out foul pollutants. You know the type. Only maybe there was just an ugly view out a window that people were just  glad was there so they could see approximately what time it was/ whether it was raining as they shimmied back into their pants before hitting the afternoon at the office. Either way, it was unpleasant. But the room was for sleeping, (in my mind, possibly not the majority of the clientele) so who cared about an ugly view anyway, yeah?
•  The walls were covered with sad attempts at English phrases that have probably never even been uttered in English, such as "I so hiiiigh an I want to do it all niet long, but I cannnnn." Oh. Ohhhhhhh-kay. I feel for you, man.
• There were also scratches on the wall. Had we entered a rabid armadillo holding cell? The world may never know...
• Chuck and I awoke early in the morning because a) someone was hammering on the roof, b) the ugly window failed to open, (ahhh, so this is NOT a suicide hotel) and it was burning up in the room.
• Then we discovered a creepy green stain on Chuck's side of the bed, so we squished the two of us onto my side to continue our fitful slumber.
• When we finally awoke, Chuck threw around the idea of a shower, but mourned the loss of a towel. I told him he could use the blanket from the bed, but I think I was mostly joking, especially after he looked like he might vomit at the execution of that idea. As we got ready to leave, Chuck discovered a crunchy towel wrapped in a plastic sleeve---had it been sterilized? Had it needed sterilization?--So Chuck unfolded it and we both cracked up: Hey, Let's TWIST! Wow.... 
• So, my favorite part about this hotel was brushing my teeth--the sink was teetering above-and-behind the toilet and somehow the piping was connected: when I spit my excess toothpaste into the sink, it bubbled up in the stagnant toilet bowl. I realize the sink drains into the toilet, but I refuse to soil myself with thoughts about whether the toilet drained into the sink... the sink I used to brush my teeth....[shudder]
• Did I mention that this room cost 7,000 colones, which is approximately $14? It was totally worth it, if only for the complimentary continental breakfast of toilet water and free room service wake-up call via hammer at 5:00 am.
• We left. Hurriedly. And sadly, did not make it to Volcán Barva. 

Over-qualified National Symphony and an Entire Day Spent Walking

• The next memory-worthy activity was our 10/8 cultural activity to El Teatro Nacional in San José where the Costa Rican National Symphonic Orchestra was performing different different movie scores. Just for kicks and  giggles I dressed up "fancy" for the performance, although the dress code was jeans and tennis shoes---sometimes I just have to stand out, ya know? Jakey and Miguelito also dressed up, so I looked like I had a couple of handsome dates. The Theatre was really beautiful inside with all the dimmed lights, ornate gold trim, leather theatre seats, painted ceilings, affluent and middle class Ticos alike: the performance was good, too. The Orchestra played theme songs or medleys from classics  like Return of Superman, Indiana Jones, James Bond, Harry Potter Order of the Phoenix and Pirates of the Caribbean End of the World, as well as other movies like Memoirs of Geisha, High School Musical and Happy Feet (which was my favorite, very dance-worthy).  
• Afterwards a few of us went out for a tame night that turned kind of wild: we had pizza and beer at El Patio, a restaurant where the pizza was the only cheap thing, then to Barrio California where I met a Costa Rican from Boston with whom I got very frustrated because he spoke fluent English with an almost-inaudible accent, thus wanted to speak in Spanish even though I wanted to speak in Spanish; then to the Latino Rock Cafe where we didn't have to pay the usual cover charge and watched a pretty good live music show whose drummer we thought was naked, then a fairly crappy DJ named Caesar and Joe and I danced to his "spins" which I could have spun, having never spun anything in my life. 
• Due to our upcoming midterm exam on Monday, Jakey and I decided to spend Friday studying at the University of Costa Rica. The first time I went there just to walk around, I decided that I wanted to go there. We sat at a café to eat lunch and study a bit, then walked around the beautiful campus (it actually has trees!), got some ice cream, and sat in a park area until it started raining and we made our way back to the starting-place café. Walking around campus I saw the "bouncer" for Black Tropical Bar in Barrio California...that says I go there too much. That night we had a movie night to watch my first Quentin Tarantino movie, Death Proof. If you have the choice, don't watch it, although it is kind of funny...but mostly strange. And the girl from Rent has a really bad fake laugh.
• Bright and early on Saturday morning Jakey and I bought our bus tickets that would take us to Volcán Barva in Braulio Carillo National Park (foreshadowing: or so we thought). IF YOU WANT TO GO TO VOLCAN BARVA, GET TICKETS TO HEREDIA, THEN TO THE VOLCANO, NOT GUAPILES! The bus dropped us off at the Téleferico (Canopy Tour), which was about 50 aerial miles and 75 miles by the nearest road from where we wanted to be. But, we were just a few kilometers outside Braulio Carillo National Park, so we started walking. We pretended we were road signs, ran the speed limit, created impossible body positions, stood on booby traps to view the view, staged hilariously frightening pictures, arrived at a death  camp, and finally entered Braulio Carillo to "start" hiking, although we'd been hiking since 7:30ish.  So of course I was hungry. But someone apparently stole my mandarin orange and banana from my bag on the bus, and Jacobo warned me not to touch anything on the trail or roadsides because "it's probably poisonous." Thanks, Mom :)
• Braulio Carillo is a huge park, and is separated into two different sections, Volcán Barva (where we wanted to be) and Quebrada Gonzales (where we were and planned to have fun if it killed us!) It's an interesting park because it wasn't destined to be a park but ended up being so as a compromise between constructors of the Guapiles Highway (which splits the park in two) and the people of the area who didn't want the highway to come through. So, although you can hear the highway and it probably chases the more silence-loving animals further into the forest, it is by far the most easily accessible by car, yet one of the least-visited. I wonder why? Most of the park is at the altitude of cloud forest, so Resplendent Quetzals can be found there, amongst the other abundant wildlife. We began hiking on the west side of the highway, on the Las Palmas and Botarrama trails. I found a massive tree, and we found some penis-roots which were disgusting looking. Sick, no? Totally. I know. 
• So after that the trail ended in a stream, we forged it and got a great view of the Río Sucio (named Dirty River for its brown color, which is actually derived from volcanic mineral deposits rather than dirt), saw an animal that looked like a bunny without long ears, and had a couple of girly photo shoots whenever we stopped to sleep in the sun. Then some more hiking on the El Ceibo trail across the highway, tons of ants and a hummingbird, and waited beside the road until a bus picked us up and we had to lie in the aisles since there were no more seats. 
• Then the bus broke down.  
• But the view was beautiful.
• And we eventually made it back to San José to eat a 3:00 lunch, walk around to find some ice cream and take a bus back home because we were finally tired of walking. 
• Once again, Sunday was for resting. And some more studying....maybe.....