Sunday, September 2, 2012

More friends along the way...

Our rental vehicle, a Hyundai SUV had BeGo on the back door. Kenz referred to our vehicle as BeGo. BeGo had a special lock which we were to use inside. IF someone broke into the vehicle, we had a lock that went around the gear shift so they couldn't move BeGo. BeGo was a good buddy, getting us down lava bumpy roads, up mountain paths, down muddy inclines and across sandy lanes. BeGo gulped gas but served us well. BeGo and I almost had a nervous breakdown together on our last day in San Jose. We were on the highway, clipping along at 90kph when a man in another lane had a tire blow out on his motorcycle and slid in front of us. We stopped about three feet from running over this guy and his bike, while I watched in the rear view mirror as a truck came barrelling right behind me. I knew we would be pushed on top of this man, killing him IF he weren't already dead. We weren't hit and I tried to get out of my vehicle to help the man who wasn't moving. Several men waved at me to stay put, picked up the injured, dead? man and his bike and waved the traffic on. BeGo saved us. I hyperventilated and cried on and off for a couple of hours. Always wondered what happened when a motorcyle had a blow helmet, no long sleeves. Hope he is OK.

We got serioulsy lost in Cartago, a town where Kristin was an exchange student when she was 16. There was a ton of construction/road work going on in the country and roads were diverted, shut down and without signage. So, we were trying to go south to San Isidro and we must have asked at least 20 people how to get to the autopista. Everyone gave us the same directions, regardless of where we were: "turn left, go several blocks and turn right and go straight. You will reach it." I stopped one elderly couple to ask and the old man gave me the same directions but then asked, "are you travelling alone?" I said, "no, I am with my grandaughter." He immediately went over to BeGo's open door and leaned in right up to Kenz who was feeling pretty nervous. A dirty old man??? His wife screamed at him and off we went, talking about what one could do in this situation in the future.

 Whil trying to find out way out of Cartago, we took a picture of a cemetary. In Guatemala, each of these would have been brightly painted in an array of colors. We only saw graves in white in Costa Rica.
In the central park area is Las Ruinas, old ruins of the church with many people feeding pigeons. The young girl in front had just exited the church nearby and note the dog lying in the midst of all of this chaos. Vendors were selling seeds, grains and crackers to feed the birds. Our goal: get outta there without getting pooped on!

I stopped and asked a Taxi driver and we were in front of the old secondary school which is still being used. The taxi guy proudly stated that there is a new school down the road for the high schoolers but there are still too many kids.
Finally, I asked at a gas station and the attendant (yup, they still have attendants who fill up your tank, check your tires and wash your windows) had no clue but a man getting a fillup with a full car of women and kids said to follow him. We did. And even though he said it was no problem and NOT out of his way, when we got on the right road, he veered off and went in the opposite direction. He made us smile with his generosity.

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