A Costa Rican Family

I have had a hard time writing about Costa Rica. I have no wise words to say about it.  I traveled and related open, without my own agenda nor expectations, just listening to cues from within and without and all worked out.  This is just the beginning of something much more enduring that will take many years to unfold. 

I am spent my last days in Costa Rica back in San Ramon.  The first day felt strained between Jonathan (R’s dad) and I, but by the next day everything was easy again.

Ramona and I again stayed in Uncle Javier’s house.  Javier comes in holding a dead turkey by the feet.  He recounts catching a glimpse of his dog attacking the bird through his rear-view mirror as he turned the corner at the end of his driveway.  He couldn’t get to them before it was dead.   He had bought two turkeys, and this was the second to be killed by this particular dog.  He had bought the pair as pets and to make more baby turkeys, but soon found out the dogs were not going to allow for that. I didn’t care to see the defeathering or the chopping up of the turkey, but Ramona went back and watched for a couple of minutes.  I never saw anything like that when I was a kid.  She’s not squeamish like me.  I wish I were more like her in some respects.  I did take a few pictures of the birds head sticking out of a little box full of feathers and bones (I will spare you).  Then Jonathan chopped some up some turkey and put it in the white sauce for our pasta.  

It was so great (and daunting) going to Costa Rica.  Its good to create connections.  Our lives have been broadened, expanding our world through our relationships. Ramona and her dad foster a new relationship, she gets to meet other family members.  She gets to be welcomed by her Costa Rican roots. But, she had her own idea of the meeting, with high expectations and I think was let down a little.  She pictured a man with grayish long hair and a long beard.  Jonathan likes to shave his head and face.  He was also way to grabby and touchy with her, which made her feel uncomfortable.  I tried to explain how we in the US are more particular with bodies, and that Ramona connects through talking/stories, before touching.  However, though Ramona understands Spanish very well, she can’t tell stories is Spanish, so a lot was lost. She talked and talked in English and no one understood what she was saying but me.

Jonathan and I seem to have begun anew some sort of romance, we are just too attracted to try to control it all.  And I’ve changed so much in six years.  I am able to just let my relationships be what they are for the most part. We have a loving, friendly connection, we accept each other at face value.  Walking around as father daughter and mother felt so strange.  It was a first for me. He asked me if I would like to come live in Costa Rica, I said "Maybe someday." He asked me if I wanted to have another baby with him.  I said no.  He said we should get married for visa purposes, I said "It wouldn't help."

We are sooooo different is so many ways, but there seems to be this fundamental connection, this strange way that we are actually the basically the same. But the truth is that the vast distance between us may be the thing that keeps the good energy and peace between us. 


My friend says I am lucky because when the USA gets really shitty in a few years I will be happy to have somewhere to go.  I am working on establishing paternity for her as well as Costa Rican citizenship in the near future, then I work on my stuff. 

Waiting for the bus...

Check out the size of this big ass hummingbird!  

I am waiting for a bus down to San Ramon, so decided to update.   Ramona and I got to spend the last two and a half days with Ramona;s dad and her little brother.   Sometimes I wish we were able to spend more time here, playing with the same kids for more than just a couple days.  The first day there was a lot of calling and craziness.  We spent the day on the side of a hill at Ramona’s sort of Uncle’s house, which is right next door to the lot that R’s dad says he is going to build a house for Taylor (Rmaona’s brother) and Ramona.  Check out the view of Golfo de Nicoya.

The View, ahhhh.  Of course pictures do it no justice. 

The day was interrupted with many many phone calls from Erika, the other mother.  Angry that Jonathan had Taylor out so long (though arguments are rarely about what they pretend to be about) cumulating in her threatening to call the police if he wasn’t home right away as we waited for our pizza.   So the second day she was invited.  It was all a little weird, but at least we spent some time together. She drank a couple beers. She was no longer so scary to me. Though she did exhibit slight insanity a couple times.  I do think though, were I to be in a situation like hers, I may be slightly crazy myself.  But it is all relative. Relationships are so strange, especially upon the landscape of social restraints.

Gotta go.  To be continued…

On my way...

I am sitting on the airplane, headed towards Costa Rica.  Ramona is trying to nap beside me.   She only slept 6 hours last night, after several nights of not quite getting enough sleep.  I wonder if, when it will catch up with her.  I got 3 hours sleep if I was lucky (damned insomnia).  We are dropping in on Ramona’s Dad.  He wasn’t communicating with me, so I just decided to go.  Ramona wanted to.  But now, he becomes a part of our life.  I wonder what part he will play in our lives?  Suddenly there will be a dad where there once was none.  Years ago I had mysteriously lost all the photos from my trip to Costa Rica, so Ramona was never even able to see what he looked like.  A few weeks ago he got a facebook account as a way to stay in touch.  She got to see a picture of him.  She seemed surprised and said he didn’t look like how she thought.  She said she thought he had white hair and a beard.  “Like Santa?” I asked, she said no.  Perhaps it was more resembled a child’s idea of what God looks like.  

Another person we get to meet is the brother Ramona that we just found out that she has.  He is only four months younger than Ramona.  I don’t know what to think about it.  Good for him to have been involved in raising a child, though he isn’t with the mother anymore.  Why did he cut off communication with me?  I ponder various scenarios in my head. For me, this is a truth-seeking journey.  Why did things play out the way they did?  Why was it all so great and yet so bad?

So he is excited and nervous to meet her, and is coming to meet us at the airport and has found us a place to stay and paid three nights, so that's nice.  Good way to begin again.

…Now I am in Dallas, my flight is over an hour late.  I should be flying towards Costa Rica right now.