Waterfalls, Yoga & New Beginnings in Montezuma

22 December 2010

Waterfalls, Yoga & New Beginnings in Montezuma

The other residents of my hostel told me that the howler monkeys woke them up that morning, but I didn’t hear them. I had slept so well again. Now that I was becoming better rested, I was even starting to have dreams again! I have all but stopped dreaming since residency started, and I really enjoyed the vivid dreams I used to have. I was so glad that I forfeited salsa dancing for sleep the night before.

Christy and I had made plans to meet for breakfast at a place called The Bakery Café in town. By the time I got myself ready, I realized that I’d probably be a bit late arriving, but who can be in a rush when visiting a town like this? I found Christy sitting in the café, located a few meters from the beach, eating tropical fruit and granola and drinking a coffee. Christy, Sam and Danny were all taking a tour boat out to Tortuga Island to snorkel and were leaving the hotel at 9am. I had all the time in the world, so I ordered another round of gallo pinto with fried eggs and a latte and savored it. I watched the white-faced monkeys jump from tree to tree next to the restaurant.

I learned more about Christy’s difficult situation as we ate breakfast. She is married to a wonderful guy who treats her like gold, she said, but she started to realize that he was more like her best friend than her lover. She was taking some time to figure out what she wanted. She had moved out of their house together three months ago. Part of her reason for coming to Costa Rica was to have space to think. That, and the fact that she said she really hated Christmas. She also wanted to come to Costa Rica to reevaluate with Christmas meant. Back home, she felt it was all so contrived and materialistic. She didn’t know how her husband’s family would take 6 hours to open presents and “ooh and aah” over them when she just wanted to get drunk and be cynical.

I made no rush in getting to the yoga studio. It was located not even half a mile down the road from where I ate breakfast. Montezuma Yoga studio was located on the grounds of a hotel called Los Mangos. The yoga studio itself was an open-air gazebo draped with batiked tapestries and pictures of Buddha and lotus flowers. Hibiscus bushes surrounded the gazebo and one could see views of the pristine ocean further down the hill. Dagma, the German woman I had met the day before, greeted me warmly and told me to help myself to a yoga mat.

Dagma was an attractive, middle-aged woman. She was tall and lean with an angular face and piercing blue eyes. She led us through a challenging but enjoyable hour and a half long Vinyasa flow yoga class. It was definitely the most beautiful and peaceful setting in which I have ever practiced yoga. The clientele at the studio were actually mostly locals and expats, not tourists. It was a fabulous way to start another day in paradise.

It was about 90F by the time I left the yoga studio. I decided to head back to my favorite little hippie hang-out, Organico café, for a snack. It felt kind of strange to me that I was having such a slow-paced vacation. I was accustomed to the kind of vacation where I’d get up early, cram in as many museums or sites into one day as possible, or hike the biggest mountain I could find. Then inevitably I would come home from vacation with laryngitis and bronchitis or just be more sleep-deprived than I was before I’d left. I had decided when I arrived in Costa Rica that this was going to be a different kind of vacation. I didn’t plan to park my ass on the beach and cook myself the whole week, but it was going to be an active but relaxed affair.

Back at Café Organico, they were having free guitar lessons. A smiley and bubbly Costa Rican man was teaching a little boy and one of the expat cooks how to play some cords of a Costa Rican song. I sat there and listened while sipping a smoothie made of coffee, rice milk, banana, caramom and cinnamon, deemed Turkish Delight. I took advantage of the free wifi while I sat there and watched the world go by. A bit later a Swedish couple sat down on the floor cushions in front of me with their two small children. The woman actually looked like she could have been Costa Rican, she was some breed of Latin-Swede. They sat and ate a rice noodle salad with vegetables while the little girl played drew on their legs and feet with chalk and the mother breastfed the baby. It looked delicious, the salad, not the breastfeeding, so I ordered one for myself. Just because I was on vacation, I ended the meal with some kind of vegan “chocolate” coconut dessert.

The heat of the day was subsiding now and I decided it was time to visit Montezuma falls. There are multiple waterfalls located in and around the town, but Montezuma falls were the main attraction. It was a 10-minute walk to the trailhead and from there one just follows the river up hill. I criss-crossed back and for over the river by hopping over rocks. Hemp flip-flops turned out to be a poor choice for hiking, but again, I was traveling light so I had to make do. As I teetered on the rocks at the edge of the river, a couple returning from the falls suggested that I take the trail through the jungle instead, as it was much safer. It was certainly easier to walk on the dirt path. I also got good views of the waterfall from above. It eventually became steep and narrow and followed a series of water pipes that were jerry-rigged throughout the woods. Someone was clearly taking advantage of this fresh water below.

My dress fully drenched in sweat and feet covered in dirt, I finally made the final descent down the mountain to the basin of the waterfall. A dozen people were sprawled out on the rocks around the waterfall, enjoying the mist, cool breezes, and drying off. The water was chilly but refreshing after the hike. After a quick dip, I too lounged on the rocks. When I was dried off enough to put some clothes back on, I started the walk back to the road. I walked for a bit with a couple from Toronto. When I said I was from Houston, they said they’d been stranded there for four days on the way down to Costa Rica, but with a month of travel time, it didn’t effect their vacation too much. When they asked how long my stay in Costa Rica was, they, like everyone else, said that 6 days was just not enough time. I conceded that this was true but that six days were better than nothing, and plus I wanted to see my family for Christmas. The Canadian couple told me that they had made a practice of just being together as a couple, away from family, for their Christmases. They said it took awhile to trail their families on this tradition, but they enjoyed that it was just “their time.”

The sun was getting lower in the sky as I returned to Montezuma town from the waterfalls. It was that beautiful time of day when everything is colored in a warm red hue. I decided I’d take another walk down the beach. I didn’t make it far before I found Sebastian laying in the sun and reading his book. We caught up for a bit and said we’d try to meet for dinner later. Christy had been interested in the same. I took a walk down the beach until the next bend in the shoreline, just to get the view of the next beach. The surfers were still catching waves, hippies smoking joints, kids digging holes in the sand, and countless people worshipping the sun; it was a real tropical paradise.

I relaxed at the lounge area in the hostel, waiting to see if Christy or Sebastian would show up for dinner. It was almost 7pm and I was starving so I decided it was time to go in search of food alone. I had read about a sushi place right on the beach and thought that sounded healthy and delicious. As I walked through town, I spotted Christy drinking beers with a man, Brad, whom she’d met the night before where I salsa-danced. I thought of saying hello, but figured they were better left alone. She needed to do some exploration on this trip, and I didn’t want to interfere.

The sushi restaurant was located on the northern end of town right next to a hippie beachside campsite. It was a small operation, really just a hut for making food and a tent with tables in the sand. There were only two other couples there. While I waited for my food, I also got to walk on the beach at night. I wish my camera could have gone justice to the beautiful scene. The full moon was large and yellowish and hung low over horizon casting long beams of light on the still ocean below it. A campfire burned further down the beach. The sky was clear and all of the constellations were easily viewable.

I was a bit curious to see what sushi from Costa Rica would be like, but it was as delicious as anything an Asian person could make. While I ate, I watched an older white man, probably in his 60s, putter around the beach. He picked up coconuts and odd trash items off the beach. He approached the Costa Rican couple behind me and tried to offer to cook or prepare something for them on the beach campsite. When he walked away, the girl giggled and referred to him as “Papa Gringo.” The guy had clearly dropped one too many acid tabs and killed a lot of brain cells; he had a vacant look to his eyes. His skin was tanned and leathered and dotted with multiple tattoos. He seemed like someone who had probably run away from something at home many years ago and never returned, getting by on odd jobs, fondling young girls, and living in a tent on the beach.

I headed back to the hostel around 8pm, planning to make an early night of it and get up at dawn to go running. I had a craving for something sweet and bought a sleeve of vanilla crème cookies at the convenience store for about 80 cents. Christy and Brad were still sitting at the same restaurant and chatting outside while indoors the movie, The Hangover, was being projected on a large screen for all to enjoy. Christy waved me over to them and I sat down for a bit while I devoured the entire sleeve of cookies. I inquired more about Brad’s story. He said that he technically lived down here in Costa Rica now. He was and soft-spoken man in his early 40s from Minneapolis originally which was easily evident from his Midwestern accent. He had some kind of high-powered job in the internet business and traveled continuously. He felt burned out and unhappy, and subsequently laid off, and decided he was going to re-evaluate his life in Costa Rica. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay, but it was a start and he was happier already. It seemed that a lot of the people I’d met this week were in Costa Rica to do some serious self-reflection.

I asked Brad if he thought he’d get bored in Montezuma. I said that I could probably only last a month before I’d be itching to leave. He agreed that it could get boring, but he liked the slower way of life right now. He could always move on to some other beach town. I think he’d like it if Christy would stay down there with him, in his quest for fulfillment. He was clearly smitten with her. The two of them were planning to move on to another bar for more beers, I figured I’d leave them to their own devices and get myself to bed. I was really enjoying this whole “sleep” thing that had become so foreign to me.