Thrashings, lashings, beltings & butcherings... Tales from further afar

2:39pm Monday 22nd January 2007

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Hola amigos,

Just got a moment so thought I’d fill you in on the goss.

Hit the jackpot in the plane lottery, on the Heathrow-Madrid flight,
had a spare seat between me and a girl going to Colombia who was cool... we swapped email in case me and Roel are out there when she is. So that was enjoyable. On the long haul, me and the other Gap Sports members were apart, but that was fine by me coz there was no pressure of been remotely sociable, leaving me to drift into another world.

Got picked up (in a Mercedes!), and was taken to my door. The familia
were welcoming and are nice, they don’t speak a word of English but that’s good, I’m getting great practice. With regard to the language, I’ve done my test to judge my skills and I get the impression that the teacher was impressed (I suspect she is a cunning actress), we had a conversation about Sevilla... it was short. My teacher is called Ana, to which I said, mi madre llama Ana (c´mon, its similar and a great ice breaker!!!). Anyway, she is really lovely and patient, but first impressions are dangerous, she hasn’t had to put up with me for four hours in a solo effort to butcher her language!

Hope you are all keeping well and enjoying the Christmas build up, not
that there’s much to enjoy about been harassed by manipulative marketing campaigns, maybe I’m being cynical... perhaps they want their product to enhance our experience of celebrating the birth of Christ... with action figures! I’ve seen a few lights around, but understated and pretty. San Jose (or Asserri, a kind of a suburb of SJ where I reside), is poor but beautiful. San Jose is like a gigantic Caerphilly because it’s in a bowl surrounded by mountains and valleys!!! I have a balcony (my house is muy bonito) which overlooks San Jose. In the morning it is mind blowing, at night it hits a new level, like a billion fireflies shining only for you.

My host family consists of five homes in a row, an indication as to the family closeness and I believe it’s a local tradition. The people are poor financially, but to measure their other wealth, these people may be rich.

Word to the wise... its absolutely belting it down here! Words can
describe the size of the rain drops and the intensity in which they fall, but I have to rush now to my welcome football game, so maybe another time!!!

Ok, its the day after the game, we had a thrashing last night, 8-4
against Asserri youth 2nds (at 5 a side, known as Futzo out here). They were organised, fast, fit and technically superior...we play the firsts next week!!!

Climbing a mountain this weekend called, Chippiro (I think that’s the
spelling). Anyway, getting picked up at 11 tonight and start walking at
2 in the morning! Its going to be three days, I have no suitable clothes and to top it off, my housemate approved the idea as he’s the unofficial liaison to good/bad ideas for trips. We get along well, but maybe on Monday I’ll have a good idea of my own... to re-evaluate this friendship dynamic! Especially as he’s not going!

Hasta luego,

Matteo


25th November 2006

Bloggg 6 – Converse around the world – tales from further afar

Hoi,

A few nights ago I experienced my first earthquake - Its a hard thing
to explain but I wrote this in my journal the day after...

"The earthquake last night was weird, the house was moving, it was like
been tipsy, when your balance almost escapes you, but it was not you who is tipsy, but the world."

It was six in the morning, I thought it was Diego, the son of my host
family, playing his music which he does at that time every morning, but
there was no music, there was just me, in my bed, wondering what was
happening, but with not enough strength to bother thinking about it!

The Spanish is going very well... I can actually have conversations.
Last night I was chatting to the taxi driver on the way back from the club and we had a whole conversation about sports and I was drunk enough (why do peoples´ language skills improve when they are
drunk?) to ask him where they were showing the Welsh game in San José... unfortunately I drunk enough to forget what he told me too!

Another point regarding taxi drivers... and men on the whole in Costa
Rica, but particularly the taxi drivers... they are perverted beyond belief!!! Me and my mate Steve who I coach with, were in a taxi on the way to our school in one of the scummiest part of San Jose (had
to be didn’t it) and the driver beeped EVERY PRETTY woman we passed...
actually... every woman we passed (they are all beautiful here!) On one
occasion, he actually slowed down to get a better look, DURING RUSH
HOUR!!! I’d rather take a ride with Anna Day!!!

While I have enjoyed the buzz of the city... I also miss the absolute
isolation that I experienced on the mountain. Here are the minutes of
the weekend –

Friday
11.00pm Met in the square in Asserí.

Saturday
3.00am Had breakfast at the guides mates house

4.00am Started walking

4.05am Realisation that my worst fears had come true... Converse
trainers are not meant for mountain climbing

5.00am Started walking through the jungle

12.00pm Arrived at hostel, cold wet, dirty and depressed

12.10pm Got in shower

12.11pm Jumped out of shower... no heating at 3000 meters altitude!!!
Coldest I have EVER been and hope I ever will be!

1.00pm Slept... time held no meaning from this point till I got home...
so here are the moments worth commenting on.

Low Moments - Playing pick up sticks for entertainment. It’s a game
where... well... you have to pick up sticks...

Also, at home, the night I got back was quite eventful... we had a man
on our roof!!! He was there the night before I left too! It was quite
scary at the time although he has gone now so I can tell you about it... It was funny because while Valerio, the niece who lives two doors down, rang the police, me and Darren, ran outside with a baseball bat and a golf club!!! I think that can accurately describe the differences between the birds and the bees!

Lowest Moment - Our last night I woke up to shouting... ¨JAMES JAMES
JAMES¨, I ran into the next room to find my mate having a fit in his sleep... he is diabetic and had run out of his medicine. It was one of the most scariest moments of my life. Earlier I said I missed the isolation, well in this instance the isolation only added to our problems. We knew that to get down the mountain would take several hours even for a fit man... I must also say the Red Cross were useless. Our translator Huberth rang to tell them about the situation, they replied ¨what do you want us to do about it!¨

Eventually they came but tried giving him insulin after James and I repeatedly said that he needed sugar... they would have killed him! Although fair play, they did offer us a horse for the way down...

It’s amazing how people can work together in a situation. Obviously José couldn’t speak to him because he spoke no English and Stuart tried but couldn’t get anything out of him. So I tried and instead of asking
about where we were, I tried to relax him by asking him preset questions... I will always remember the words ¨Steve Cotterrill,¨ because I asked who he supported and their managers name! Me and Stuart are going to write to Burnley FC to tell them about this story and that their managers name was the first thing that showed signs of life in our friend. Stuart was an absolute hero, he noticed that James didn’t have any short term memory after the fit... he was buzzing around the hostel with contact numbers... he is very organised, I am not... funny what can happen when we stick to our attributes.

There is a common theme amongst our group about man points, I think
because the only company we had for 3 days was male. Man points went to James for saying I’ll by you all a drink the morning after... and got another man point for avoiding the bar when we got home till everyone forgot!

Favourite moments - chasing the sunset to the top of the mountain. I
have never experienced the physical exhaustion that I had that weekend, it was a 40 km round trip with stagnated sleeping patterns and bad equipment. But the last climb to the top, and it was a climb, I almost sprinted up! As soon as I got to the top, the sun jumped out from a mountain and the whole world lit up... incredible.

Another favourite moment was just a wonderful coincidence... I had been
pleasantly surprised by how well my Converse performed in the terrain,
for a shoe designed in the 30´s, that is now a defunct product in the very sport it was intended for, they were very comfy. What topped it off though was meeting a fellow traveller in Converse on the way down... we even took a picture!

Best moment - leaving for the summit at 3 in the morning... well not
that... but looking into the sky when all of our torches were off. Looking into the clear sky was outstanding, you didn’t even have to look for shooting stars, they were just there, to miss one is to see another.

Well, this Bloggg has had quite a few serious moments commented on... so here is a light hearted one to finish off... and of course it involves me and my unprecedented ability to butcher this language! While on a trip to the bar for myself (Imperial beer... yummy), I was picking up a rum, ice and a glass for a mate. So I said... ¨Quero un imperial y rum, tambien el vaso con helado por favor¨... which means... ¨I want an imperial and rum, also a glass with ice cream please!¨

Hasta luego amigos, Matteo
12th December 2006

Bloggg 7 – Millennium revisited

We ascended into the mountains and as we did, a deep mist engulfed our
coach, bringing back stark memories of Chirropo and ultimately hope,
that I could find adventure in this trip, as meaningful as that weekend. I found myself in a haze, a benign desire for sleep, but a respect for the country that was flying past my window, at quite a dangerous pace considering the roads. I think the saying, in a country full of bad drivers, they all have to be good not to crash, aptly describes the approach to driving here. I couldn’t help but feel that the country is slightly improvised too, a mixed, possibly confused culture but nevertheless, a healthy mix between Tico tradition and the luxuries that makes my life so comfortable.

In the tranquil of the journey I also began thinking that this weekend
could dictate whether or not I stay on in Costa Rica after my placement. A vision of sitting, arms folded, knees tucked, looking on at the sunset on an infinite golden rainbow that would be the curved coastline, the tide flirting with my toes. These thoughts engulfing me helped me appreciate the finiteness of life, for a moment and the overwhelming desire to make the most of all that life tosses me.

We cruised into Puerto Viejo late, sweating, tired, bitten. Also, an
increasing realisation within the group, that we wanted different
things from the break, was brewing under the surface. Luck threw us redemption when we came across a clean and cheap hostel that would also prove itself comfortable in the nights we stayed there. What we did share in common was drink, and plenty of it so we made our way over to Johnny´s place, a bare but bashful club, given life by its custom, the typically intense Regaton music and bodies intent on matching its beat inside. We enjoyed the wonderful feeling of being part of the same party but in a relaxed secondary environment outside, chairs on the beach, beer at our feet, coconut trees surrounding, but not imposing.

In the morning and the following events that day, the small community
we attached ourselves to came across as a little rough, the area was a
little dead for nightlife, tales of thievery and local beggars claiming to having found life, when to us, the metal in their skin and the glass in their eyes suggests a long lost mentality. Like Caerphilly, you could describe it as "having character".

The first morning was spent on the beach, getting what would turn out
to be a fairly nasty, but not worst burn among the group. When I was in the sea, I saw a guy, tanned, but not Costa Rican, thick glasses, your
typical looking car salesman... but on holiday. Anyway, he also happened to be wearing a Welsh t-shirt, big red dragon, couldn’t miss it. This led me to believe there was a thriving (or at least a small) Welsh community here. Turns out the guy owns a scooter shop and is the only Welshman in town.

We got talking and it turns out he is from Caerphilly, he used to own the circular car lot on Pontygwindy road... while I couldn’t believe he was from Caerphilly and even more so that he was actually a car salesman, it turns out he introduced the owner of Jacksons into the car trade, the father of a girl who went to my school!!! He also claims to be the guy that cut down the Dinosaur near that lot a few years ago. I had no idea what he was on about, but if anyone has a vendetta, I found your man! Puerto Viejo, Dragon Rental Scooters!!! I suppose that’s my first small world moment, but not the last for this Blogg...

The next morning, I awoke to the intense beam of the sun descending
through my windows, it was an easier feeling than the morning before, I hadn’t drunk in the night, my head was clear and my mind free for thoughts of adventure. Me, Stuart and Emma headed over to a cafe the boys had recommended along the beach. Sean joined us too, but was only there in body, still angry, with every pore crawling at the idea of socialising. I struggled to sympathise for him in what was such a forgiving environment, beauty enveloped us. A lazy day was agreed, so we headed over to Dragon Scooters and rented two, two seater scooters.

All over I felt apprehension, I had only once driven a scooter before, at Joe´s place in the sticks. I had a go on his and after a
smooth start, I realised I didn’t know how to turn or stop... the only
option being to crash into a bush. Into the present and my practice. It was a short burn and turn along a Caribbean road, visible heat rising in the distance. I made it. Getting of the bike, I wasn’t amazed to find myself shaking all over, I had expected a rush, but hindsight tells me it was good - I didn’t have to sign any forms, that may have been the last straw for what was an already worried tendor.

We headed six or seven miles up the coast, a clear stretch of road,
rocky in parts, nothing more than an overused dirt track, where lorries kick up dust and blur your vision. At times, we hit some smooth asphalt, where I could, at a push, nudge the bike up to 75kms an hour, I was exhilarated and to share the first time feeling with Emma was wonderful. We settled at a beach about half a mile away from a small, molested area of beach, our group had no motivation for noise, instead chasing the very attainable postcard dream, tranquil beach, warm golden sand, clear, fresh water and good happy people. No acclaimed painter, or indeed digital camera could have mastered the sight. No poet or songwriter could convey what I and we felt, a unique moment. Even Sean was smiling now.

The journey home was shorter than the four hours it took, I never
slept, but again, I became lost in my thoughts. On this occasion, I had experienced what I wanted and I wanted more. Next weekend, we plan to visit Jon, a friend who left as part of a conservation group on the Pacific coast. There I want to surf and find possible places to stay for a few months, although the Caribbean is sitting as invincible in my mind at the moment, with much reason, so I may split my time. Getting away from a rewarding, but long and stressful and what has become a repetitive life in Aserrí has been an absolute blessing. Although, the hope that I’m doing good keeps me focused. Also, getting to know Stuart and Emma better has helped me, I think for the first time since I’ve been here, I’ve felt like myself.

When I got home I was met with a nice surprise, for a change it wasn’t
coming home to Betty’s cooking, I wasn’t very hungry, but instead there was a Welshman on my balcony. His name is Jonathan, neither his face nor name rang a bell. He used to live with the family before I did. He had been travelling Central America for the past few months, on his own too, but came back to Aserrí so he could see the family and the few remaining mates that were here when he was. We got talking as only Welshmen do, turns out he is from Mountain Ash and went to Cardinal Newmans. From there we discussed a few people he knew from Caerphilly, of which I knew none, until we came to Phillip. I know him from rugby with Caerphilly and after chatting about the ins and outs of Welsh rugby, Hook, Henson, Wales against England, Wales against Ireland and Max Boyce lyrics, I said that Dolly lived on my street... to which he replied I´VE BEEN ON YOUR STREET, he had been there for new years, the millennium party. On that evening I happened to be over Laura’s house, a girl I know just down the street, whose family happen to be good friends with Phillip’s family and I thought would have also been
there. Turns out, he had gone to a house up the road and to the
right... WE CELEBRATED THE MILLENIUM TOGETHER!!! What an amazing small world moment!!!

Hasta luego,

Matteo.

27th December
Blogg 8 - Did you see that BIMBO!
Hola,

The competition involved four teams, Jose T. Mora (my school), Jose
Suarez, Aserrí and, the clear favourites, the POLI. Not only do they have a continuous coaching cycle with the children, there was talk of the referee being on their side too. We had drawn Aserrí, two evenly matched teams in both age groups and as events unfolded, closer than we could believe. The younger team produced a low quality game, except for the work of two boys, Geremi (known simply as pelota, meaning ball) and our captain Axel who gave us the goal of the tournament, a chest and volley into the top corner from outside the box, special player at 10 years old!

They and the ref took us to a penalty shootout, a sudden death
competition, one of the many decisions the ref took that day that infuriated me. It was unfair on the children and the child charged with their side’s fate, well maybe not so much ours as we won. In the second game, we were again taken to extra time, partly because the ref changed his mind after giving a goal to us when the child pointed that the ball hadn’t crossed the line... the ref was on the half way point and ran all the way back... could the child have moved the ball in the process perhaps (idiot). Anyway, we managed to scrape a victory, although our and the tournament’s best player, Luis, was sent off, and rightly so, but for a foul OUTSIDE the box. Of the 7 penalties given against us that day, that was the one I disagreed with most.

We lost both finals, but before the game commenced for the elder
children, there was a 20 minute delay as me and Steve protested the BAN imposed on Luis by the ref. Eventually he agreed to let him play on the condition that if we won, the opposition, who lent us their support, could appeal to the organisers and win the game... these kids are 12! We lost both finals but nethertheless, I was proud of both the losing finalists and vilified that I would stand up for one of my players like I did.

As I have finished coaching now, I can talk in retrospect, and so far
what it has taught me is that it is fair that teachers have favourites. In my experience, of course you are going to like the kids who make the
effort to talk, listen and have banter with you. One of these kids, Jonny, gave me the most rewarding experience I have had here, perhaps more than Chirripo. Dejected and tired after been a losing captain, he came over, gave me a hug and said in English ¨thankyou, I love you.¨

The Christmas period has been fun, paper throwing in San Jose, the cup
finals and the social eccentricities shown. Paper throwing in San Jose
was, well, like pick up sticks on Chirripo, it is what it says. The main street is packed with people throwing stapled paper segments at each other, a game of cat and mouse, child’s play for adults, passive aggressive, yet flirtatious.

Also went to two legs of their FA cup final equivalent. The first leg
was in Saprissa stadium, the buildup promised much, the stands came alive, physically shaking, especially ¨los ultras¨section situated directly above the opponents changing room. It was an intimidating environment outside, but underneath, the fans jumping in unison, baying for your blood, must be something else. Unfortunately, the football left me under whelmed, similar to the football produced in the penalty shootout game with the kids. Like that game though, I was left amazed as to how bad football, can still command passion and provide entertainment.

The second leg was a surprise both on and off the field. Before the game, seeing a peroxide blonde wearing a Saprissa shirt, a shirt sponsored by BIMBO (this country’s equivalent to Hovis). Also, watching ´los ultras´of La Liga and Saprissa was an experience too. We had situated ourselves in close proximity to these ´thugs´, but far enough so not to get into trouble. Hooligans here operate by pre-organizing
fights. You wear a number to that game and your opponent matches it,
this number may be complimented with a ridicule, for example, one La Liga ´ultra´ wore, 24 rissa Goofy! The pair must then find and fight each other. Fortunately, they were the sorriest excuse for hooligans I could have imagined. Like a school playground, intimidation, pushing and shoving, but never the action.

A pleasant surprise was the game, good quality at times. Like in the
first leg it was won 2-0 by Saprissa and again, one player shone. In the first leg, Aleman was a class above, but couldn’t play the second. Instead, La Liga´s 18 year old left back was the star. Although I have forgotten his name, his speed and skill will not be.



Friday 5th January
Blogg 9 Good Cop, Bad Cop…Great Car!

The excursion to Tamarindo had already dealt a few firsts. Our
friend had asked us to join him on the turtle watches, so we set off at 1.00 in the morning, ours being the graveyard shift till 4.00. To get to the beach we had a short walk up a beach, we had not seen it yet as we arrived late, so had no idea of the terrain that would surround us.

We came across an estuary; fair enough, but as we walked over, the high tide was too much and we waded back to shore. So we decided to get a canoe. Me and Jean were first to cross, successfully the first time with the equipment, but as we turned back for others, the capsized. The rapids almost swept me away and I could not see, it was black, I didn’t have any idea what would await me, but in desperation, I managed to grab the canoe, pull myself up and push across the current to safety. Of course, afterwards, I learned that the estuary is where the crocodiles go at dark!

However, this blow would be forgotten, as an amazing moment became the
centre of my universe. We saw a long trail, what could have been mistaken for that of a boat. We drew nearer to see what looked like a huge rock, but moving, wading and breathing very heavily. I had seen a turtle! The darkness and the slight exposure under red light added to the mythical aura that this beast would command from our group. We stood in awe for 10 minutes before letting the beast be. On another watch we would measure one of these Baula turtles, 1.59 meters from top to the bottom of the shell!

Learnt how to play poker the other day, Texas Hold Em. I really enjoyed
playing, and showed it, James describing me as been like a "kid in a
candy shop," which I believe is not the point of the game. Attempts at poker faces were always backfiring, each time holding a serious expression for any amount of time would descend into further hysterics. While technically not having a gifted poker face, there must have been something in that smile after taking the boys to the cleaners. Some classic banter with the boys too; me, Stuart and James had decided to pull an all nighter and in our tiredness, we were able to rip into James Bond. We imagined Bond doing what we were doing, during or after one of those pivotal moments to a high stakes hand. Always asking to show the cards after a fold, did he bluff his way to victory?

Also went to a new years party. When we showed up at the gate, there
was a race car on the drive, which I took a photo of. This prompted a short conversation with the owner, but enough conversation for him to ask me if I wanted to take it for a spin. Turns out his girlfriend drives, and usually wins at Costa Rican race events. Of course, I had never driven on the right side of the road before (well, maybe by accident when I was learning). I had never driven with a right hand steer before. I hadn’t even gone into the insurance aspect and to top it all, the car was supercharged (260 BHP i think he said)... oh yes and San Jose drivers are maniacs. Of course I said yes!

So the guy, who I had correctly guessed was a cop because he had a vest
on his porch (I think a clear signal to scoundrels looking to thieve from his nice house and rally car) let me drive his car. It took me a few moments and a few close scares to get the hang of it, but never even went near pushing the car to its limits, even after what felt like a fast 0 to 60 on the motorway. So I asked him to show me how its done - and he certainly did. From my passenger seat I could see up to the 120mph mark and the pin had hit that point long before we slowed down to buy ice. Like with the poker I was all smiles, I couldn’t take it off my face, even when in the shop. I still don’t know how many laws I broke that evening!

Have been in Panama the last few days, just off the mainland in the
Bocas del Toros, meaning mouths of the bulls, probably what my house mam calls me after all the food I eat! They were beautiful, I saw dolphins in the wild and snorkled at a reef. I also hung out with some cool people while drinking bottles of beer (simply called Panama) at 25 pence each during what was a very happy hour, slept in a hostel on top of the sea, to the extent you could see the water through the floorboards and got driven back across an unsettled sea to the mainland by a maniac in a speed boat. We had heavy rain, not my Carribean paradise, so I'm back in Costa Rica and will be heading over to the Pacific soon for some sun.