New Year’s Eve in Costa Rica

 

New Year’s Eve in Costa Rica dawned with a hopeful sky.

Which helped motivate everyone to head to a very early breakfast so we could meet our tour guide in the lobby at 7:30am.

Even Ears.

The plan that day was to shuttle with our private tour guide to Tenorio Volcano National Park, about two hours away, then hike to the Rio Celeste Waterfall (famous for its striking turquoise color), then have lunch at a traditional soda, then go tubing on Rio Celeste (also turquoise), then shuttle back to our hotel.

The drive took us through some, erm, rural areas.

Along the way, our tour guide Raphael talked to us about everything from his family, to the different languages he spoke, to the attitudes of various tourists (the French are less tolerant than others of their language spoken imperfectly), to Costa Rica’s budgetary priorities (they have no standing army and instead put money into education and tourism), to the implications of the Iran-Contra scandal, to US-Costa Rican relations, to the world history of cultivated coffee, to Central American geopolitics, to how we tourists are saving the rainforests by making it profitable to preserve it, to the local town, to the falling birthrate.

By the time we arrived, most of us were a little bit in awe of Raphael.

We set out on our hike, meeting flora and fauna along the way that Raphael told us all about—his actual job being, of course, nature guide, not western civilization history professor.

Another deadly eyelash viper

A helpful guide to all the ways you can die from a volcano. You’ve heard of lava flow (flujo de lava) and ashfall (caída de cenizas), but have you considered volcanic lightning (rayos), shock waves (onda de choque), or mud pools (fuentes termales)?

Raphael explaining some kind of biology to Lizzy

This little guy was very cute and a relief to observe after all the deadly stuff. He’s a harmless and aptly named green vine snake.

At the terminus of our hike, we arrived at an exceedingly steep stairway leading down to the Rio Celeste Waterfall.

It was a long set of stairs.

Raphael gave us a long explanation about how the water isn’t really turquoise, it just looks turquoise, which seemed like semantics to me, but he’s kind of right.

After our hike, we went with Raphael and our driver to a traditional little restaurant called a soda, where Raphael’s knowledge came in very handy. He explained about cosado, the “typical plate” of Costa Rica, as well as other dishes on the menu, including a common item on the kid’s menu that his daughter loves but he thinks is gross. He also told us about Costa Rican fruit smoothies blended with ice and either water or milk, and which flavors he likes best. They sounded weird to me, but we went for it and liked them so much we ordered them everywhere we went for the rest of the week.

Raphael was particularly helpful to talk to because he has spent regular time in the U.S. visiting a friend, actually quite close to where we live. So he understands American culture, which makes it easier for him to explain cultural differences to us. 

By the end of the week I was wishing we could ask him more questions, like why is it that no one in Costa Rican businesses asks for money? When we took a taxi, for example, we got all the way out of the car and still the guy didn’t tell us how much it cost until Jason straight up asked him how much we owed him. And in restaurants they never brought us a check or asked if we were ready for it, no matter how done we clearly were, until we specifically asked for it. And in a coffeeshop, I ordered at the counter, right next to the cash register, and asked if I pay now or later, and the guy shrugged and said, “Now, later, whichever you want.” Like is it rude in Costa Rica to point out that you owe money for the services you’re being provided? That’s very un-American, and I would’ve loved to have Raphael’s take on it.

After lunch we were dropped off at some other place deep in the jungle and entrusted to the hands of the river guides.

Lizzy can identify all these birds.

We suited up and prepared to hit the river, but when the guide was taking our picture, I spotted a sloth on the ground right behind him.

It was our first sloth sighting, and boy did this guy live up (down?) to his name.

If I knew nothing about sloths I would’ve been sure this was some animal dying in agony by the way he was dragging himself along the ground, apparently searching for a suitable tree to climb but seeming to give up and lie down in the middle of the stairs people take to get down to the river. Even the black stripe on his back looks like he’s been grievously wounded, but it’s actually a distinguishing mark of males.

Anyhoo, we left Mr. Sloth behind and hit the river, and this was tubing as we’ve never done it before. 

I think in America we would call this whitewater rafting.

And also we would’ve signed a waiver.

We stopped twice along the way at swimming holes.

When we got to the end, they had some fresh pineapple and watermelon ready for us.

And Raphael met back up with us in time to show us this iguana in a nearby tree.

I took a bit of a siesta on the way home. At the hotel, there was a different iguana waiting for us in another tree.

Despite our already full day of excitement, it was New Year’s Eve, and the hotel had a special fancy-schmancy dinner with a live band.

They also had a DJ and lights at the pool, and this big “2025” balloon barge they floated.

We didn’t quite make it til midnight, partially because we knew we had another early morning the next day. But we could hear the pool party going on without us even from our room, and I awoke from drowsing enough to hear Jason’s voice in my ear, “Tres, dos, uno—happy New Year!”