Too Many Magos

One of the things I was looking forward to during this trip was experiencing the local cuisines and having access to amazing LOCAL fruits.  One of my favorites is mango.  In Oregon we can get decent mangos, but nothing like the red and yellow mangos that when peeled look like gold on your plate.  They are sweet, a little tangy and you can get them in many different ways.  You can buy pre-cut and peeled green mango, you can put salt on it, or chile on it, or both (which is actually pretty amazing).  However, my favorite still remains to be the simple ripe mango.

On our last night in Granada Nicaragua I went in search of more mango.  I like to buy the whole ones and peel them myself because the pre-cut ones are often greener, which is good but not my favorite.  So in the market on the streets I am asking different vendors what they are asking for mangos and the common one is 3 for $1 (pretty cheap I know, but I can get better if I shop around).  We eventually found a person willing to sell me 12 small mangos (about half the size of the ones we get in the states usually) for $1.  It was the end of the day and I don´t think he wanted to carry them home with him.  So I picked out 12 perfect mangos with the intention of eating some for dinner and then sharing the rest with the friends we have made at the hostel.

So our dinner was fresh mango, avacato (they were amazing!!), local cheese, bread, salad (and in Nicaragua it is cabbage, some carrot, a little spice and a vinigar kind of dressing, very light and refreshing), and some of the most amazing pastries I have EVER had.  However the name of this post is Mangos, not Pastries (I´ll leave that one for Jose to write). So between the two of us we ate four of the mangos.  I ate most of them since they are my favorite and Jose prefers the slightly green ones with salt and chile.  I was in heaven.

The next day I find myself left with 8 mangos still and I don´t want to carry them with me back to San Jose.  I cut up 6 of them to share with our new friends at the hostel, which they appreciated a lot, and I again ate another mango´s worth of the golden deliciousness, maybe more.  I didn´t know when I would next be able to have such wonderful mangos so I took advantage of the opportunity.

The next day however, my body was not pleased.  I suddenly very aware of where the nearest restroom was and I stayed away from fruit for three days.  I, hoever, am not deterred.  I will find more mangos and eat them ALL...just at a more reasonable rate.

My body may have told me that I had had enough mango, but my mouth still waters at the thought of the sweet and tangy flavor of fresh, local mangos.

House or Home?

The word home in English, what it means literally as well as the feelings that often go along with it, is not easily translated into Spanish.  "Casa" is house, the physical place but there is no reference to the emotional connection that often goes along with the word "home".

Leaving Oregon for this adventure, leaving my home, was hard.  I was ready to travel and wanted to have some new experiences, but leaving my home has always been difficult for me.  Driving up the mountain to Monteverde in the dark was not as satisfying as driving in the day time and being able to see the green of the mountains that surround you as the bus climbs the rocky roads, but I could feel the air getting cooler and the familiar smells welcomed be back to the place I used to called home. 


After we settled into a hostel, we went in search of our new friends.  We didn´t find them, but we did find family.  We first met my younger host sister, Johanna, and she told us that her sister, Milaydi, bought the Pizzaria down the street, so we wandered that direction.  

Before we saw her, Milaydi sees me and says "Did you think I would not recognize you?  How are you here?  When did you get here?"  She jumps up and hugs me and leads me to her restaurant.  On the walls are very silly drawings that she designed herself but give the place a fun and inviting atmosphere.  

She hands us the menu and then tells us to choose something and she will make it for us, for free.  Then she begins to talk about family and how important it is.  A bit of history: she has always worked hard to keep her family together, working extra hard and making sacrifices that allow her mother to have a place to live and keep her brother in school.  Now she has a business and she can give back.  She told me that there is nothing more important than having people that you want to give to.  She made us an amazing pizza, she told us that she would pay for us to stay someplace nicer, and she would organize a zip-lining tour for us at a discount.  We ate our pizza and then talked for more than an hour.  Her brother, Andres, stopped by and when he realized that it was really me, (he saw me earlier when he was on his motocycle but I don´t think he believed it) he gave me a big hug and the traditional latino kiss on the cheek without hesitation.  I was on the verge of tears several times.  Being sleep deprived has a tendancy to put my emotions very close to the surface and all of this was a big surprise to me.  I had no idea I would be welcomed in such a way! 


My time in Monteverde was fun what with new friends, strangler fig climbing and zip lines, but the most amazing feeling was on the last night we were there, and Milaydi picked us up, took her to her house and, with her Mom, made dinner for us.  We laughed and I got to hear more fun stories about Marlenne´s childhood and more jokes with her fantastic humor.  The food was simple but by far the best we had had so far in Costa Rica. 

This was family.  
Good food that was simple but made with love.  
Sharing stories what were sometimes embarassing but always fun.


I hold a special place in their hearts, just like they do in mine.  


I may have left my house in the states, but I managed to find home in Monteverde.   

A Lesson In Pain

So most of you know that I am a bit of a wuss when it comes to spicy foods.  Costa Rica doesn´t do much in the way of spicy food but in Nicaragua they do put a little bit of spice in some of their dishes.  Today Jose and I decided to try some of the local fare by taking a chance with the street food.  We got several things to try and brought them back to the hostel to eat, after washing our hands.  There was this one local dish that was amazing!!  They put it in a couple of banana leaves as the bowl, some plantains, yucca (a potato and yucca cross kind of thing), meat and some cabbage salad that is kind of pickled but it was really good.  I was eating the food with a little of everything in each bite and drinking my bottled water when, in one of my bites I suddenly bit into something that went "pop" in my mouth.  I immediately felt excruciating pain throughout my entire mouth.  The burning was horrendous and the pain didn´t seem to end!!  Jose is laughing at me, my mouth is on fire, my nose is running, I was crying...it was SO painful!

The culprit?  A bright green seed-like thing that was about the size of a pomegranate seed.  I had seen them in the salad, assumed they were spicy and thus avoided them.  That final bite had one hidden in it and Jose  didn{t believe me.  Now I have to find more, make him taste it, and (hopefully) have him say: "oh yah, that is kind of spicy."

I can check off a couple of things from my Central America "to-do list":
I have had my favorite kind of beer once again, Toña, and it is as good as I remember it.
I got to hear the rain fall on a corregated aluminum roof and I was rushed back to the small house in Monteverde that I lived in two years ago.
I got to climb the strangler fig in Monteverde
Jose got to meet my host mom.

I have yet to see a rainbow, but I have a feeling that it will happen soon.