Let the Panamania begin!

My roommate Alex--this is normal.

At the Panamanian border we had one instruction: act normal. Probably for any other group this would have been an effortless task, however we’re kind of…special. In our adventure pants, chocos, and assortment of heights and accents we do not appear even remotely Costa Rican. Frequently we find ourselves on a self-proclaimed “gringo parade,” attracting attention wherever we go. We also really like to play ninja—a get-to-know-you game introduced to us on our first field trip. Although we know each other quite well now (too well?) we still haven’t stopped playing. On mountain tops, in the ocean, even in the middle of the road, ninja can happen anywhere.

We were not allowed to play ninja at the border.

With much self-restraint, we all passed through customs and crossed into Panama. We reloaded the bus and headed to the coast where, under the cover of darkness, we loaded our bags and selves on to some water taxis. In the shadow of a huge freighter we took off, speeding through polluted waters (the large banana monocultures there, like Chiquita, dump all their waste in the ocean, so the coastal waters are pretty disgusting). The taxis dropped us off on a the small island at Bocas del Drago, a beach close to the famous Bocas del Toro. My roommates from Monteverde and I secured a small beach cabaña to ourselves with a kitchen, our own bathroom, and a balcony off the upstairs bedroom. 

from left to right, the panamanian bromansion, our house,
and the rest of the girls' house

After a dinner and some ocean beers (note: Panamanian beer is gross) we collapsed in our beds, exhausted from the day of traveling.

The next morning we embarked on an orientation hike. My sleeves of my hanes white-t were quickly severed, and the brotank movement was born. Although I had long ago purchased an Imperial brotank in Monteverde, the heat of Panama quickly increased the brotank followers, and the boys’ shirts quickly lost their sleeves as well. We walked up and down the seaside village, learning all about the species found on the island, the story behind breadfruit, and even getting to see a cemetery where some of the original settlers were buried! After some snorkeling just off our beach (which ended up murdering my camera) we jumped back in the water taxis and headed out to what can only be described as Avatar Island. Sprouting up from the middle of nowhere, the tree-covered rock looked like the floating cloud islands straight out of the movie. Magnificent frigatebirds, red-billed tropic birds swooped overhead, and brown boobies nested in the rocky edges. Ornithologists apparently have a 9-year-old sense of humor…and apparently so do I because I almost fell out of the boat giggling every time somebody spotted one…

“Look, a Brown Boobie! There’s a pair of brown boobies over there!” Okay come on if you don’t think that’s funny we can’t be friends. Anyway. We continued circling the island, pretending to be Na'vi until our driver stopped, told us to grab our snorkels and head into "de wata." Year of living in the Midwest have taught me to expect an icy shock when plunging into a body of water, but bracing myself was unnecessary. The warm waters of the Caribbean greeted me, as did hundred of gorgeous fish. There were beautiful anemones and rock walls that, while barren and boobie-inhabited above water, were coated with colorful life below. I’m probably not the first one to say this, but Ariel (as in the mermaid) is an idiot. Sebastian had it right—
                                           Just look at the world around you
                                              Right here on the ocean floor
                                         Such wonderful things surround you
                                               What more is you lookin' for?

 

Being a mermaid...duh.

The next day was an entire day of snorkeling. Sporting my Imperial brotank and a thick layer of sunscreen (and I even re-applied later, Andrea you would have been so proud), I boarded the boat and settled myself on to the prow. In between all our snorkeling sites I found myself up on the prow again, soaking up the sun and sea breezes—really it’s the only way for a princess to ride in a boat.

Our first stop was at some mangroves. Now, in our first field trip we learned all about mangroves above the water—I never imagined there was anything special going on below. The roots of mangroves are absolutely teeming with life! Bright orange corals, purple anemones, and hundred of other species coated the mangrove roots. Little fish darted in between, and I was filled with wonder at everything that I saw.

Hannah Julia and I sharing a life-affirming
moment

For lunch we stopped at a little dock restaurant only accessible by boat. We had some delicious seafood stirfry, and while dangling my feet in the turquoise waters that are only supposed to exist on computer screen savers, I had one of those life-affirming moments. You know, those ones where you just take a step back and think to yourself “yep, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

At all of our snorkeling stops that day I felt the same. With every fish I saw, every new type of coral, wonder that a thing so beautiful could still exist in this world filed me up. How can anyone hate nature? How can anyone justify destroying it? 

If this were a REAL rainforest, we'd be walking THROUGH that river, not on this paved bridge..."

Bridge through La Selva--note the firm
hand rails and extensive width. 

Now La Selva is a pretty big deal. It’s a famous research station located on the Caribbean slope and you can read all about it here. While I’m sure it’s a great place for many people, our group was not enthused by the place. The trails were paved with bridges, there were showers with warm water, and washing machines with dryers. We weren't allowed to touch any of the nature, and our mealtime eating style (loud conversations, excessive laughter) were not appreciated by the other students living there. That’s right, we also had our first exposure to other US college students since arriving here in August...they were weird (their program had so many "safety" rules--like no bike riding and no night hiking. What? Everyone knows nighttime is when you see all the cool creatures. The whole place was so foreign and strange—we were all very overwhelmed and grateful to only be staying for 2 nights. 

Class in La Selva means wearing party
hats to learn about Tree Fall Gaps. I
maintain that the OTHER group of college
kids were the weird ones. 

            I did get to see some pretty cool creatures though, like an eyelash viper and a Montezuma’s Oropendula. But that’s about it for La Selva.

            Our next stop was Tirimbina, another research station slightly closer to the coast and perfectly lovely. It really reminded me of our home in Monteverde with its large patio and hammocks strung between every post. We did a night hike through the pond down the hill from the station and saw caimans, toads, and even a vine snake! Then some horsemen came whooping over the hill and scared the living daylights out of my friend Caitlin and I, so we decided to be done with the pond.

            The next day was filled with learning all about the timber industry in Costa Rica. The industry isn’t really that exciting, but what was exciting was the farm we visited to learn all about it. Half pineapple plantation, a quarter cows and horses, and a quarter tree plantation, I have found where I’m going to live when I grow up. A small river (which is just deep enough for floaties) cut through the rolling pastures, which were filled with cattle and a couple horses (obviously when I live there the silly brama cows will be replaced with jerseys and the horse herd will grow exponentially). The pineapple fields would provide breakfast…and lunch…and life would be just perfect. You are all welcome to visit, of course.

            

Future home of my floaty

After a night dreaming of my future home, I woke up well rested and ready for anything. We took 4 hour hike from our Tirimbina research station through the forest to the Tirmibina resort, stopping along the way to learn about the plants and animals we found along the way, including some bullet ants! Just before we got to the resort we arrived at a bridge—like literally 3 city blocks long—over a river. We went across carefully the first time, being considerate to the height-fearers…and then later we ran back across bouncing the whole way (insert our teachers shaking their heads and calling us silly gringos here). After lunch at the Tirimbina resort our travel mom, Kathy, had a chat with the hotel staff and got us all a pass in to the pool! We threw ourselves in, clothes and all.

           

Later that evening we returned to our research station via vans for dinner and the main event—the CIEE Fall 2011 Talent Show. Now, all of the people in my group are incredible scientists—that has been abundantly clear to me since our first day in Costa Rica. They are all fascinated by nature, intelligent beyond measure, and clearly enamored by science. I love them all so much, but until the Talent Show I had no idea how truly multi-dimensional these people were—we have dancers, huggers, rappers, and comedians. We also have a un professor muy travieso—between every couple of skits, Moncho had a “dare” for volunteers to attempt. If you were successful you were granted a free alcoholic beverage once we got to Panama (the type and quantity varied based on the challenge). For one challenge myself and two other contestants were called up on stage, and then asked to bring our first tentmate from the first field trip. Julia happily sprinted on stage, as did everyone else’s tentmates.

            “Now, para una cerveza y una joamy umbrella drink, jew guys have to lick eachoder’s armpits!” Moncho pronounced with a giggle. Julia and I took one look at each other and, without exchanging any words, stuck our tongues out in the ready position. Two licks and a high five later, we were the proud recipients of Moncho’s drink coupons! Over the rest of the night, saltines were choked down, more tentmates kissed, balls were iced, and free drinks were won by the most daring of us. Never have I ever laughed for so long, or so hard, in my life. My cheeks were still sore the next day! (Come on Kyle, my face cheeks…)

            The next morning our teachers let us sleep in (9am woo!) and after a late breakfast we had a pleasant but ride to the coast. Under pouring rain we climbed aboard some water taxis and motored down the river to Tortuguero. Now, Tortuguero is by no means a big town, in fact it’s downright tiny. But that didn’t make our gringo parade any less obvious as our pack-laden train wound its way from the river side of the town to the beach. Surrounded by sand and palm trees, Tortuguero’s brightly colored cabaña’s and rasta way of life make it seem straight off a postcard. Our motel was a tiny little thing, with hammocks all around and a large grassy area for soccer playing. The tiny little room Hannah and I shared barely fit our two beds when separated, so we pushed the full and the twin together to create superbed. Even though I woke up at an ungodly hour both of the mornings that we were there, some of the best sleep I have ever gotten occurred in superbed.

            Why was I waking up at the buttcrack of dawn you are wondering? Well to go find baby turtles of course! Tortuguero is famous for being one of the primary green sea turtle nesting sites in the world. If you go there in early August you a guaranteed to see momma turtles laying their eggs on shore at night, as well as little babies crawling out to sea in the wee hours of the morning. Because we were there on the 11^th of October, we didn’t get to see any mommas, but we did get to see a baby! 

You wouldn't think so, but these guys can move!

The first morning we were there Hannah, several of our other friends, and I made a loooooong trek down the beach to where we could see a crowd of people gathered. With the sun rising over our right shoulders, after an hour of walking we made it to the group just in time to see the last baby turtle paddling his way down the sand. It was one of the most magical things I’ve ever seen. Even the cranky old French lady that scolded me for reaching to help the turtle when he got stuck in a massive footprint couldn’t ruin the moment (especially because while she was distracted clucking her tongue at me, the large rastaman behind her took care of the turtle).

            We went on what our director likes to call an “orientation hike” that morning. We do one every place we go—basically it involves walking around the place we’re staying and stopping every 5 minutes to get a mini lecture about the species he has found. Generally they’re full of griping and complaining (“ugh god, another one?!” “cripes I’m so hot” etc.), but in retrospect, it’s still a really cool way to learn. No giant lectures, no powerpoints with photos, just you and the professor (and 21 other kids) walking around and finding organisms in nature. And learning about them right then and there. Before lunch I got to see a baby sea turtle, a basilisk, a baby monkey, and a pregnant monkey (who kindly left her perch directly above us, where she’d been watching us learn about zyngiberoid growth forms, to relieve herself several yards away).

Pre-thunderstorm --note the excited smiles!

            That afternoon we headed back to the river and filled up about 6 large canoes. The trip started on a high note—Kathy had filled giant snack bags and placed them under the seats of the canoes (chips and salsa in a canoe? Great idea in science) and quickly took a nosedive. The idea was to go bird watching, but it being the rainy season and all, it rained the entire time. And by “rained” I mean Niagra Falls relocated to the Caribbean sky and dumped freezing water on us for three hours. We did see some roseate spoonbills and some snowy egrets, but mostly we just played “pass the paddle” to stay warm. One of the things I have learned about this place—when you are at your most cold/wet/miserable you are always about to get the best meal of your life. Grilled cheese in Santa Rosa, pesto and garlic bread in Monteverde, mac and cheese and rice pudding at Eladio’s, and Tortuguero held its own with mini shrimp alfredo! Hannah and I set the alarm for even earlier that night, and collapsed in superbed full and content.

            At 4:20am my watch rudely awakened Hannah and I. It was still pitch black outside (you’re not allowed to be on the beach without a certified guide when it’s dark) and superbed was so comfortable that Hannah and I decided to give ourselves another half an hour of supersleep. Not 5 minutes passed before I felt Hannah nudging me awake.

            “We’re going to see something cool.”

            “Excuse me?” I said groggily

            “I just feel it. We are going to see something fricken awesome. Let’s go!” I rolled myself out of bed and down to the beach. Now before you get excited we didn’t see any creatures, but we did get to watch the moon set and the sun rise at the same time! 

After breakfast we disbanded superbed, got back into our boats, and went back down the river to our bus. For the next 5 hours we played Wizard (our card game of choice), snacked, and slept our way down the Costa Rican coast. Around 5 we arrived at the Costa Rica-Panamanian border. With all games of ninja banned and strict instructions to “act normal” all the sleepy gringos tumbled out of the bus. We passed through customs, and carefully crossed a massive bridge spanning a river between the two countries. Once we’d made it through Panamanian customs (not as friendly as Costa Rican customs) we waited for the bus. They took a long time going through all the underbelly compartments, we failed miserably at being inconspicuous, and in several miles we made it to the Panamanian coast. 

Rum Runners

At 8am on October 4^th, we filled up our backpacks once more and began the 10-mile trek out of the Children’s Eternal Rainforest. There was a mighty rushing river about 20 minutes in to the hike that we all crossed together (everyone made it!) and then our raucous group quickly dispersed into our various hiking paces. I found myself smack dab in the middle with my friend Julia. We spent the morning chatting about boys, school, and our families until around 10am.

Nobody fell, everyone's pack is dry, we made it!

Now before I get started with this story, I feel like I should offer you an out, so if bodily functions make you giggle, click here. If you’d rather keep your image of me in your head as a delicate little flower, keep on reading…

  

Pocosol is located up the Atlantic slope, right where the warm air from the Atlantic cools enough to loose all of its moisture before it heads over the Continental Divide. The place, which receives some rain almost every single day, is aptly named. In Spanish, “poco sol” literally translates to “little sun”. After a morning of bird lectures and delicious coffee, we all donned our swimsuits (the guard suit made another appearance!) 

Julia (my original tentmate) and Hannah (my future Belize
 roommate) next to our lake

and headed down to a little lake that we’d passed on our hike about 500m away from the station. We don’t really know how the lake got there, but our teachers promised it was free from crocodiles and poisonous snakes, so we confidently ran down the grassy shore in to the water. You can imagine our surprise, which quickly changed to delight, when we realized that this lake was not like most. There was no gradual shallow entry—where the grass met the water there was about a 4ft drop off. We passed the afternoon with cannon ball contests and headed back to the station in time for dinner, with a post-dinner statistics lecture looming over our heads.

The contest-winning photo! I call it "Jake over Johnny"

After dinner we all settled into our makeshift classroom, fighting off food comas and bracing ourselves for the driest lecture ever. I mean, let’s face it, statistics are not really that interesting unless your teacher is genetically related to me…that’s a not-so-cryptic shout out to you, sister dear.

No Laura, not you.

Alan, our head honcho professor blathered on about regression and comparison tests, making nonsense graphs on our travel white board. I pretty much zoned out for the first 25 minutes, until this phrase caught my attention,

“…so to make an interactive example of a comparison test, we’re going to compare your taste for rum to how much the bottle costs.. This will determine if your palates can pick out the best rum.” Um excuse me what did I really just hear that? I nearly fell out of my chair. “So stand up everyone, let’s head back over to the kitchen!”

Never have we ever moved so fast in our lives.

On top of the tables where we had just eaten dinner were now lettered plastic cups filled with 10 types of rum. Our task was to taste (“just a taste children, just get the flavor!”) each cup of rum and rank them according to our preference. Well, our group of college students was pretty much all over the board when it came to our preference. Some swore that cup C must be the $70 bottle, while others claimed cup J was clearly the best. After several suspenseful minutes of running our data through Excel, our teachers pronounced that two of us had A+ palates; while the rest of us ran the gamut from B+ to F. 

I’m proud to say that my taste in rum matches my college student wallet.

We then proceeded to polish off the rest of the rum not used in the statistical experiment, while learning the finer points of salsa dancing from our professors. This sentence makes our activities sound really classy, but…never mind. I’m not going to finish that sentence.

The next morning we groggily got all our packs on to a covered cattle truck, and loaded ourselves into the beds of some open-air ones. Bouncing and rocking down the dirt road (not friendly movements para una persona que tiene goma, let me tell you) my fried Alex and I practiced our princess wave to all the locals (who found our parade of gringo-filled cattle trucks hilarious) and played “I spy.” The little neighborhoods we passed looked like happy places to live, and were framed by mountains off in the distance. If I could buy about 10 plots of land I though to myself I could have my horses, and raise a family in this neighborhood! 

Once we reached the bottom of the hill we transferred our packs and ourselves on to our beautiful coach bus, and promptly fell asleep. I didn’t stir until we reached our next destination—La Selva.

Dear Cousin Peter, you would be so proud...

I am alive and well! Two and a half of the most wonderful weeks of my life, and I’m successfully plugged back in to technology. Where to begin….probably the beginning would be a good idea.

             The beginning is 8am on the 30^th of September. With my 30lb backpack (a modest weight, I swear) snugly buckled around my hips and my hiking boots double knotted, my classmates and I headed off into the wilderness that is the Children’s Eternal Rainforest. Within the first 20 minutes we arrived at the top of the Continental Divide—at one edge of the lookout we could see over the Atlantic coast, and with a quick turn around you could see out over the Pacific. Well okay, see is a relative term because, shocker, we were engulfed in a cloud. It was still exciting to think about what we could be seeing!

Pacific Side

Atlantic Side

            Singing and joking back and forth, our gringo parade continued down the trail. Over the next couple hours our group broke up as people settled in to their own comfortable paces. Being a much more graceful human being in the water than on land, I found myself in the middle-ish with my friends Julia and Caitlin as smaller groups of hikers formed. We charged through rivers, leapt across ravines (a challenge with a pack on, let me tell you), and finished the 10 miles together with only a few mental breaks. Usually these came at the base of a steep vertical incline when much cursing at the mountain ahead was necessary to fire ourselves up it. One break came after we made it across a skinny rope bridge over a rushing river that was being repaired while we had to walk across it and we had made it up the ridiculous hill that followed. Exhausted, we collapsed on some massive, mossy rocks at the edge of the trail. Cursing our tired legs and heavy packs, we claimed that we were “just going to lay our sleeping bags out and camp right here!” The griping continued for about 10 minutes, until we had finished our snacks and hydrated ourselves. Once the Snickers’ sugar kicked in (yes it works just like the commercials!) we realized that maybe, just maybe, we had enough energy to make it up a couple more mountains and get ourselves to the end. Skeptically, we hoisted our packs and bodies up, and started hiking again.

I’m not even going to tell you how silly we felt when, after about 10 steps around the rocks, we saw the little old farmhouse that was our final destination a mere 25 yards ahead.

Our little farmhouse abode.

A little old tico man named Eladio, who used to farm the land around the cabin before he sold it to the nature preserve, owned the little cabin where we camped for the next 4 days. When the park realized that leaving Eladio’s barn standing so that groups like ours could camp there was a good idea, Eladio and his sons tore out the animal stalls and built bunk beds. They added two toilets, showers, and a small wrap around porch. Although he now lives in Monteverde, Eladio and one of the men from his family, bring horses laden with all the cooking supplies out to the cabin. The horses are left to run around while Eladio plays chef for the campers—a role he fills excellently. His mac and cheese is the best I have ever tasted in my entire life!

Our group quickly inhabited the little cabin with our general happiness and stench. The days at Eladio’s were filled with mini hikes as we made the rainforest our classroom. We learned about the various plants and animals that could be found in the recovering forest around Eladio's. Our free time was spent laying in piles on the porch, playing cards, scrabble, and playing with the horses.

Bunk beds with Mosquito Nets

 On the 3^rd of October we hiked to a nearby waterfall, which involved crossing the river under the skinny rope that we had walked across on the way to Eladio’s. Luckily this time we were hiking sans backpacks, but the current was still pretty powerful. Everyone made across and back alive (did you hear that Mom? Everyone made it alive) but there were several close calls that had my inner lifeguard nearly jumping out of my suit (yes, the one piece came out to play). The waterfall was gorgeous, freezing, and refreshing after the long clamber upstream. We played for a while, forged the river once more, and were welcomed back at Eladio’s with piping hot rice pudding.

The next morning we packed up all our mosquito nets, stocked up on snacks, and re-shouldered our packs for the long trek out of the forest to Poco Sol.