Dominical Dot Biz

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7/22/06
The value of living outside of the country of one’s birth is clearly seen when one returns to that country. It is interesting how something so familiar can be so… well… unfamiliar.

I have a custom, when travelling to the States, the country of my birth and where I spent the majority of my life until moving to Costa Rica in 1999, of going to one of the newsrooms in the first international airport that I arrive at in the States. This is usually in Houston. I like to go there to see what’s up in the US of A.

Standing back and looking at “The Wall” is what I like to do. “The Wall” is covered with magazines that have covers designed for the express purpose of getting us to pick that magazine out of the myriad of choices. You might say that this visual experience is telling the tale of what the majority of magazine buyers want to read about in the States. To appeal to the lowest common denominator? I think that for anyone visiting this country, this is the way to know what is going on, right now. I think that also it explains, to some degree, why people are pouring out of the US and into places like Costa Rica.

“The Wall” tells me what I am going to be hearing about and coming to think about during my visit to the States. I was thrown a curve ball this time though. The flipping newsroom had categorized its magazines: “Men”, “Women”, “Technology” etc…

So I adapted.

I decided to do a psychological test and see what gender was on the covers of these categorized magazines. The men’s section had mostly women. The women’s section had all women with the exception of one. Interesting. This study actually confirms what I’ve been saying all along: women are beautiful. I’ll bet your glad you’ve taken the time to read this article, eh? This is some late breaking, cutting edge stuff.

OK, well. A slight detour there. The first few times that I did this er, research, the hands down winner of the “What is Going On In The States” award went to – boobs. It seemed that no matter what the topic, boobs were featured, or strongly suggested, on the cover of the magazine. It is interesting to note that I think this is changing some. Now, there is likely someone that we recognize, some kind of celebrity thing going on.

On this trip, it would seem that the country is concerned about Jennifer Aniston and the actor that she is currently seeing, as to whether or not they are going to get married and, it is reported, she isn’t interested in getting a pre-nup. Imagine! Jen is going to risk everything… Well, we’ll see. Also there is some concern about Tom Cruise’s child, not sure what, but something’s going on there - and it could be that Jennifer and Angelina are going to get together and do what Brad fears most, whatever that may be… or so they say.

Peace in the Middle-East is big this trip, and global warming. The Peace in the Middle-East isn’t new, in fact it was hot 20 years ago, but its particularly hot right now. It’s incredibly sad how many people are dieing over there.

Global Warming is enjoying global acceptance after emerging out of the morass of debate over its actual existence. Now, it seems, everyone is in agreement that it is happening. Although looking around at the cars that people are driving around in California, mostly large, the news doesn’t seem to really matter.

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Saturday, July 22, 2006
This article is one of a series that is explained by clicking here.

This is my second day here in Gringolandia and my amazement at the wonders of the place continues on longer than I have experienced in other trips. Maybe its because of the timing of my arrival. Getting here at 2:00 AM and then getting a couple hours of sleep perhaps has extended my “just got here” state of mind, even into day 2. Whatever it is, it’s been delightful.

I went back out to The Nugget for coffee this morning on my way to dropping Mom’s car off at the Honda place. Her brakes were going bad last night in our jaunt out to Sacramento. I got to thinking that, really, the ability to make a car stop, is more important than the ability to make it go. It, the car, goes fine, but what it doesn’t do well is stop. So I took that thing out to University Honda. If one were to compare going to a mechanic’s shop in California with a mechanic’s shop in Costa Rica, well… they may as well compare with Mars. You drive into a well arranged and delineated entrance. The far left has a fellow standing at a counter helping people that need quick assistance. Stuff like oil changes and minor service. I felt that maybe our brake problem could be considered “minor” like maybe just an adjustment or some fluid or something, so I pulled in there. The guy was totally helpful and directed me to Stacy inside the office. Stacy was a bubbly professional gal that liked the fact that I had brought my roller blades to return home with. She had just gotten a new set of roller blades but her husband wouldn’t let her use them until she had the full set of pads: knee, elbow, and wrist. She said that she is a speed demon.

I had just seen the Honda car called an “Element” driving down the road, and they had one out on the lot. I think that it is one of the coolest looking cars I have ever seen. I have never seen one in Costa Rica. I asked her about the car and we got to talking. I said that I have been out of the country for the past 8 or so months and that during that time, there seems to have been a huge change in car styles going on. The Element I had seen before, but there are some extremely strange concept vehicles that have now, evidently, been put into production. Of course, California has always been this way. One big showroom floor for cars. Gazillions of ‘em.

Global warming is very much in the news, but I can’t imagine any way that they can change the system enough to make any appreciable difference when you see a highway, near a mall, in Sacramento California, at about 5:00 PM. Every stinking one of those cars, of which there are an innumerable amount, is belching out carbon dioxide faster than the Earth can assimilate it. And there is no way that you could talk these people out of it, no matter what the consequences, like total and global annihilation. Doesn’t matter.

I found it interesting that the Honda dealership provides a shuttle to town for folks that drop cars off. There are no buses, no taxis. Everyone has got their own ride. I see young men and women driving around in Cadillac and Lexus SUV’s. These cars cost boatloads of cash to buy, and some serious buckaroos to drive, but these kids drive ‘em anyway. No problem. Beautiful cars though. I saw a 4 door, super tricked, Cadillac pickup truck. I didn’t know that Cadillac made a pickup truck.

So after getting things arranged for Mom’s car, which by the way, is a ‘91 Honda Accord with about 54,000 miles on it, I set out on roller blades to the Farmer’s Market.

There was something very cool about cruising through the silky smooth streets and overpasses getting back to town. I had on my iPod and was able to really get into being alive and having the health and ability to engage in such an activity. Wendy Range, an old family friend, and now a dear personal friend - its interesting how things like this change in life. Here is one of Dad’s old buds, you know, one of the “olds” when I was growing up, and now we’re hanging together. Anyway, he had heard of what I was doing and was concerned about me taking on such an arduous task of rollerblading during a heat wave. Its supposed to get up to 109 today. I am not finding the heat a problem so far. I guess that Costa Rica has conditioned me to the heat. So he drove out to Honda to see if he could give me a ride home. We crossed paths shortly after I started my sojourn. I thanked him but told him that I was fine and that I had water in my backpack.

I think that if such a thing had happened in Costa Rica we’d go on about how friendly the Ticos are and how much they take care of each other. What do we talk about when it comes to our own kind doing such acts?

When I got to the Farmer’s Market, I cruised by the whole thing cuz I was a little bit nervous about getting there in my strange getup. I had a helmet on, wrist protectors, a backpack, and no shirt. I glid (past tense for “glide”) by on the other side of the street to observe if there were any men in the market without a shirt on, but there was not one, despite the heat. The place is shaded by a roof overhead, but nonetheless, in Latin America there would have been a number of men with no shirts on.

So I set up in an isolated area and got myself presentable. I had a shirt and my flip flops in the backpack. Keeping the iPod on, I cruised the market. I found it most agreeable that among Gringos, one can sort of create their own little world, almost like not even being there, allowing one to engage in the voyeuristic pleasure of serious people watching.

In Latin America, the people all look at each other, right into the eyes. In Gringolandia, they don’t. Just an observation, but I think that it is this that makes walking around in a crowd with an iPod on all the more interesting. All the interaction with the people in your area in Latin America would make this sort of cocooning awkward.

After tasting a salmon cake at a booth, I asked the guy if they shipped internationally and he said yes, and off we went, talking. The website is www.cedarcreeksalmon.com, but their site appears to be offline at the moment. The guy, whose name I didn’t get, has the perfect personality for the job. He’s funny and engaging and you want to buy from him. The Salmon cakes were outstanding and so I bought a couple for Mom and I to have for lunch, which we did, and they were great.

Anyway, the guy says, “man it must be weird to come back to this country after leaving it for so long” … then he went on to say something about going into a grocery store. “How did you know?’ I said, and told him about my experience yesterday of going into The Nugget, a grocery store, and getting a cup of coffee. I got a medium and it came in a paper cup, which burned my hand. I figured that I’d have to wait for it to cool down so that I could drink it, when I noticed a stack of those wonderful “Java Jackets” right there next to where I had set my cup down. Perfect. So now I can drink my coffee. I went off to get a shopping cart and began navigating, one handedly and with difficulty as I held my cup in the other hand when lo! I noticed that someone had so oh-so-thoughtfully designed a hole in the cart just perfect for my cup, effectively freeing up both hands with which to push the cart around, and still get to enjoy my coffee.

Well the salmon guy and his wife seemed to enjoy the objective perspective of his land as I concluded my account by saying: “man, you gotta love this country!”

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I think that the initial sensitivity to the States is now gone, but it was really fun this time. My first day here I almost started talking with people in the grocery store about how amazing it is, the store. Its called The Nugget, and its just a really cool place to go and hang out. They’ve got coffee of all flavors, and a buffet, and they’ve got organic deodorant and boatloads of Tea Tree oil which is oh-so important in Costa Rica, but oh-so difficult to find, and I know this is hard to believe, but this “grocery store” has… get this: an olive bar. I kid you not. Olives of all types. Some were bristling with various things like almonds and such. Its good for one to read this stuff prior to going back to the States because this way one can be prepared and not stand there in doe-eyed amazement.

It is amazing how when armed with that attitude of “this is amazingly cool” that one attracts cool stuff. I wish that I could live with the attitude of having just arrived in the States and appreciate its magic.

I was just inside the front door of the grocery when in walked this lovely woman. As is a man’s custom, I took note, and well… I just had to comment. The gal had on a beautiful black dress with white polkadots, nicely accented with a matching black, slightly floppy, sun hat. She was radiant. I stared at her, and she stared at me, I couldn’t stop… so I said: “Ma’am, you look lovely today.” to which she replied: “I turn 84 next week”. I spent a good 20 minutes learning her story.

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I am writing this at 1:30 AM on the morning that I arrived in California, the good ole US of A… wow! It always impresses me with its smooth roads, nice cars, and lots of people who think that this is the way it ought’a be - gotta-be. Wild.

I’m still in that phase shortly after I get here when the smells of the area are causing waves of melancholistic sentimentalityismness. To drive from the airport to my Mother’s house is to drive through lots of fields of Lord knows what, but it smells wicked good :o) Like sweet cut grass.

Then I get home to Mom’s and the house smells the same as before Dad died. We have our old backpacking gear here. I remember the kids fighting over who got the better of the two children’s backpacks. They’re here as well, those backpacks.

I rented a Jeep Liberty, or something like that. It is way nice. It’s a midsized SUV and it’s amazing. That’s really all that I want to say about it, just that it’s amazing. You know how it is? When you get back home and you’re driving along in a Jeep Liberty and you’ve got the windows rolled down so that you can smell the sweet, cut, whatever it is and you’re flipping through the channels on the radio and there is a channel on every decimal point on the dial, and you finally settle on one but its kinda hard cuz they’re all actually pretty good but when you do finally settle on one and “Holding Back the Years” comes on by Simply Red? That’s what makes a guy think that maybe he can just go ahead and die.

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When we first moved to Costa Rica, after a short passing of time, my family and I would start jonesing for States-like stimuli. Consequently, about once a month we would find our way to San Jose where we would walk around a mall and go see a movie. Eating fast food at the mall’s food court was therapeutic.

After some years living in Costa Rica, we look back at those times and wonder a bit at them. How could those particular activities have been a need? Now, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping. Some say I’m part woman because of my ability to enjoy a good day out looking at the latest things. I also really enjoy people watching. So, nothing against these things. But it is interesting after having lived down in Costa Rica’s southern zone for some years, to look back and wonder how visiting stores and buying things could have come to be such a symbol of our homeland.

Now it happens in reverse. I seem to allow a year or so to pass between trips to the States when I go to visit my mother in Davis California. In the first hours of arriving in the States I feel my most sensitized to the country and its peculiar ways. I am pure Gringo, having been raised there, and having spent 20 adult years there with family and in the scene. So it is a brief and passing phenomenon that occurrs when I first arrive there, and it is this state of mind that I am setting out to capture in these writings.

This visit, July of 2006, I am going to be posting impressions and observations of the States from the point of view of an expat who has immersed himself in another culture, language, and eco-system - returning to, what - home?

Relaxation - calming down - it seems to be the objective of a lot of visitors to the Dominical area. Right at about day 4 we hit critical-mass relaxation. Getting away from the cell phone, secretary, 24 hour news broadcasts, and e-mail, results in some anxiety, actual withdrawals, as we leave behind those things that cause anxiety for us. But the separation anxiety only lasts a little while. Somehow we survive and we begin to actually start thinking thoughts that originate within our own psyche.

The beaches in the Dominical to Uvita zone all have nicely spaced out palm trees, perfect for hammocks. We carry a box of beach stuff with us that has a bunch of those nylon straps that have hooks on either end with a length adjustment clasp. We get ours here at Price Smart in 4-packs. I have seen them in hardware stores in the States, as well as CostCo. These are perfect for hanging a hammock under the palm trees. Do this thing. Bring your straps with you, but you can buy a hammock on the beach. I think that they are about $20. Spend a few days there. You can read if you want. Try not reading also. Just sit. Dozing’s OK. As you pass through the various stages of withdrawals, you will gradually feel calm.

So, at day 4 you are now re-integrated with life on planet earth; what now? Well, take a look around. There are a number of things to do in Dominical. For the moment, I want to talk about one in particular, that of basket weaving. I know… “basket weaving” you say. “How ’bout we build some bird houses while we’re at it“. Well, I gotta tell ya, these are no ordinary baskets. These are works of art.

Kim is the Gran Maestra of basket weaving, and we’re not just talking Dominical.

Click Image

These are the finest baskets that I have ever seen. They are generally irregular and organic in their shape. But not awkward. They are elegant and beautifully balanced. The colors of the materials display a full earthy spectrum. Kim comments on how lovely the molds are that color the various palm fibers, almost like a patina on bronze or copper.

Kim and her husband Steve live in downtown Dominical. Their home is right on the river, and is quiet and tranquil. It is situated alongside the Baru river. A visit to their home is more like stepping into an art center than a home, although it has a distinct homey feel.

In my past life as an art dealer in the States, I witnessed the tendency of artistic types to congregate for the steel-on-steel affect of discussing, arguing, and debating the various ideologies with respect to art. I enjoy the stories of the artists in Paris and Spain, where they would get together at salons to drink coffee and stimulate each other with such sessions so that they could then go back to their studios to paint, sculpt, and construct to new heights.

So - basket weaving in Dominical. You are welcomed into an open air studio alongside the Baru that is perhaps 200 meters from where it dumps into the Pacific Ocean. There are beautiful tropical flora all around and the chirruping of the toucans can be heard outside up in the trees. Take a look around at the baskets, lamps, and various vessels scattered about the studio and you’ll know that you are in for an artistic experience.

Kim offers personalized instruction to each member of the class. She discusses warps, wefts, and weavers, but kindly doesn’t expect us to know right off what the heck she’s talking about. After awhile the vocabulary starts to make a little sense. In fact, this writer now knows that if you weave a thing with the warp and the weft of equal widths and weight, you can make a place mat. If you bow the warp material out and then back in from its origin, and weft it with twisted or flat organic fibers, you can make a basket suitable for holding stuff. Impressive verdad?

I actually did not take the class. I just heard about it and so went and visited with my camera. Socially it was cool since there were a number of folks there who were visitors to the area. Finca Ipe, a nearby organic, biodynamic, permaculture, farm, provided the majority of the weavers. The colors and forms that took shape while I was there were a delight for the eye. The classes cost $25.00 (at this writing) and include lunch.

So, when you get to that critical-mass relaxation point, and want something to do with your new-found outlook on life, why not weave a basket.

Oh, and by the way. Steve & Kim have rooms for rent as well.
Click here to see their page.

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