scmorgan A Gringuita in Costa Rica: Expat Reflections from the Free Zone

  • A River of Stones
  • About
  • Published Work

Posts by scmorgan

B is for Bochinche

02/04/2012, by scmorgan 10 comments

Costarican idioms from A to Z

In Costa Rica, bochinche means “to mix it up” or “to fight.” But, curiously, it is also a Costarican national dish.

When ordering the almuerzo, or lunch, one can order a casado or a bochinche. The only difference is the way they are presented. The casado is a combination plate of rice, beans, a stewed meat, a salad, and, if you are lucky, a crispy, sweet fried plantain. The bochinche has all the same ingredients but is served in individual small bowls. As my friend Lidia, who owns Lidia’s Place, a small soda (cafe) in Puerto Viejo, says, “You get’s to mix it up.”And actually it is not surprising to me that the bochinche would be a national dish.

Fighting is a state sport here. For all the public relations blitzes about having no military, and the myth that Costa Rica is The Switzerland of Latin America, these people are scrappers.  Historically, they have stolen land from their neighbors and fought wars over it;  Guanacaste and the Nicoya Peninsula were both stolen from Nicaragua, The Southern Zone stolen from Panama, and last year the Costarican government had armed conflicts with Nicaragua over the Rio San Juan border to the north.

This is not something expats learn until they have lived here for some time. The urge to mix it up goes from the highest levels of government right down to campasinos. Almost everyone I know has either been in court, or is in court, over some stupid conflict or another.

One friend of ours bought a plot of land from someone he grew with, his neighbor for over twenty years. Six years after the purchase, and with the price of land skyrocketing, they burned him out and claimed he’d never bought the land, despite his having documents to prove otherwise. Their rationale? He didn’t pay enough money and they needed more. There are fights like this one going on all the time, legal brawls between families, brother against brother, expats versus the locals, and most famously, one hotel owner who fought the government for twenty years. They finally tore his hotel down and he died two months later, but not before he spent hundreds of thousands of dollars in court costs.

You can spend years in the legal mosh pits over something as illegal as the previous owner changing his mind despite having signed a bill of sale—”Oh, someone offered more!” Not to put to fine a point on it, it’s a form of extortion.  Ask any Costarican—  they can quote the law as though they’d been to law school, and they are ready to mix it up. The courts are complicit in all this; often, is comes down to paying your way out.

Perhaps Costa Rica should establish a military and conscript  everyone in the country to serve for at least two years. Maybe that would curb the appetite for battle.

So, yes, B si for bochinche, a very Costarican dish.

 

  • Share this:
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Print
  • Share
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Digg

A is for Apuntarse

01/04/2012, by scmorgan 12 comments

Costarican idioms from A to Z (loosely interpreted)

A is for Apuntarse: to join, as in join in an activity, or a club (or a blog challenge). The verb matricular is also used here, but that is better translated as “enroll.” The informal is apuntarse (¿Alguien se apunta a escribir una blog A a Z?).

I’ve never been much of a joiner. Perhaps that is one reason I am an expat living along these Caribbean waters. It might also be because I lived a nomadic life in my youth;  my parents moved almost every year while I was growing up. No, we were not a military family, instead we were a political family. My father was a back room politician with the Democratic Party, a mid-century James Carville if you will.  In any event, I went to eight grade schools in eight years. So I guess I never saw the point of joining anything or even making close friends, because I was sure we would move. And we did. Outside my brothers and sisters and extended family of cousins, I can count only one friend  who I’ve kept in contact over the years. We moved a lot.

Being apart became a way of life for me, so being an expat is a natural extension of that. People always ask if I mind being a stranger in a strange country, and really the answer is, no, I don’t mind. In some ways it is easier because here I know am different. In my own country friends expected me to join book groups and other social groups, and I did do some of that when my two children were growing up,  but it has never really interested me.

Until now.

Recently I have realized the importance of joining a group of some sort. I am watching my father, also a non-joiner, in the last years of his life. He is now adrift in his late nineties, living in a memory unit in Oregon. He does not want to do crafts or join discussion groups, he does not want to go to the wine and cheese parties the staff plans or take a drive to the country. He sees no point in exercise clubs unless, like he did in his youth, you are training for the Olympics. Instead, he sits.

As he has always done, he sits in his chair with the newspaper or a book, but now he has no idea what he is reading and carrying on a conversation about politics is pointless and frustrating for him. When I visited him last January I looked at him and thought, this is what happens to isolated people in their old age. It frightened me because I see so much of myself in my father.

My mother, in her mid-nineties, is a cat of a different color. She joins book groups, tai chi groups, exercise groups, gardening groups, and is gregarious to a fault. I think sometimes she would rather be distracted by a social encounter than to seriously look at her own situation. But her mind is fully intact. So, those are my role models. One who is an introvert (and  a bit of a misanthrope), and the other could be called a gadfly. I think I need a balance of the two. I treasure my solitude and do not wish to give that up, but I do need to create a social world for myself. And I have to a degree, the Internet being what it is.

I belong to several online venues. I have an online critique group that I adore, The Internet Writing Workshop. I have participated for the last five years and developed friendships that are very close; a recent illness of one of our members caused a flurry of emails across the globe.  There is always Facebook, and it surprises me how much I really enjoy belonging to Facebook. And, I just joined a writer’s corner of the Internet, Backspace.  Now here I am in this A to Z blog challenge.

I am coming out of the woodwork. My mother always said I was a late bloomer.

 

 

  • Share this:
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Print
  • Share
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Digg

Remembering to Breathe

13/02/2012, by scmorgan No comments yet

Each inhalation, an opening gate. Each exhalation, an accepatance.

Moving step by step––in breath––I make my way to the beach.

And beyond.

  • Share this:
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Print
  • Share
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Digg

Assisted Living

06/01/2012, by scmorgan 2 comments

06-01-2012

Unsteady on his feet, the old man wanders the hallways of his prison searching for an exit.  Like a gagiit, the  Haida indians’ lost soul, one carried away but whose spirit is too strong to die, he caroms from one world to another in his solitary limbo.

  • Share this:
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Print
  • Share
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Digg

January in Costa Rica

03/01/2012, by scmorgan 2 comments

03-01-2012

Blinding yellow clusters against an azure sky: the Cortez trees are in bloom again this January.

  • Share this:
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Print
  • Share
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Digg
‹ Previous12345Next ›Last »
Subscribe to sc morgan by Email

RSS scmorgan

  • L is for Leaving A to Z Challenge, or How I was Unable to Continue
  • K is for Kilo
  • J is for ¡Jue Puta!
  • I is for Importar un Rábano
  • H is for Hacerse Bolas
  • G is for Guachimán
  • F is for Frito
  • E is for Estañon Sin Fondo
  • D is for Dicha
  • C is for calenton de cabeza.

Archives

Recent Post

L is for Leaving A to Z Challenge, or How I was Unable to Continue
K is for Kilo
J is for ¡Jue Puta!
I is for Importar un Rábano
H is for Hacerse Bolas
G is for Guachimán
F is for Frito
E is for Estañon Sin Fondo
D is for Dicha
C is for calenton de cabeza.
B is for Bochinche
A is for Apuntarse
Remembering to Breathe
Assisted Living
January in Costa Rica
Leaving
River of Stones: 01 January 2012
Adventures in Alternative Medicine- Costa Rican Style
Write About What You Know (or, not)
Kingfisher
Quack! Quack!
Magical Realism, or Gabito Meets the Mexican Mafia
Mother's Day Quotes (Repost)
Thinking Plants and Thoughtful Gardeners
Of Quipus and Libraries
Feeling a Bit Apocalyptic
Justice of a Sort
New Book Review- Stolen World
In Solidarity, but Tired
Pebbles in the River
Cold Turkey
Breathing Like Michael Jackson
Three Little Pebbles
Book Review: The Tenth Parallel
Dog Tags
Two Little Stones
A Hummingbird Rescue
On a Morning Walk
Resolutions for the New Year
Banking on an Answer
Betancourt Memoir
No Direction Home
INS and Out
Lost and Found~
Inversion Therapy~
The Disappearing Spoon
Muse Online Workshop
Beam me up, Dr. Dish!
Haiti- Message in a Bottle~
Madman or Genius?~
Waiting at CIMA
Driving Miss Sarah~
Getting Teste(s)~
S Is Not For Sarna~
Elderly Cadet~
Some Thoughts on My Father-in-law @ CPR
ABIFMAD~
Puppy Obsession~
A Puddle of Puppies~
Nine-Night for Dogs~
Crack! and Thump~
Ode to a Little Red Dog~
Rats! It's My Domain~
Reviewing Quoz
Under the Weather~
Happy New Year!
That's How I feel Too, Sasha!
Earthquake!~
Pipilachas in the Garden~
Goldilocks' Rice and Beans~
Here It Comes!~
Greed in a Time of Giving~
One-stop Christmas Shopping~
From Foulness to Serenity~
It's a Disaster!
Foxes in the Henhouse
Let it Rain!
Seven Wheelchairs: A Life Beyond Polio
A Quasi-technotard in Oz
YES WE CAN!
In paradise There is No...
Poverty
Blog Action Day- Oct 15, 2008
International Nursing~
Vive El Arte~
Another Carlsberg Perhaps?~
The Best Beer in the World?~
Independent Thoughts~
Tanigumi- Japan Stories
Migracion- The Fast Track~
Dog Days~
Presumptive or Presumptuous?~
A Day at The Hospital~
Of Sushi and Little Girls
Lost In Transition
Cell Phone Etiquette- Hello?
Stimulating the Economy
Grandmother Always Loved You Best~
Order & Chaos
Ingrid Betancourt on BBC
Woodpeckers in the Garden
Touring France
Spring Ceaning
Muse Brain/ Monkey Brain
Morning Serenity~
My Octopus~
Dreaming of Johnee
Of Alan Bennett and Bumper Stickers~
Learning to Ignore Lonely Planet~
Camarones, Por Favor
Chirm, Wiggly, Penholder~
A Chance Meeting~
Good Junk Books~
Mother's Day Quotes~
Lost Souls & Infant Potty Training
Wollemi pines and Megabats~
Stress: My Former Constant Companion~
At Large and At Small at IRB~
A Big, Big Thinker~
Page 123~
Leap Year~
Me, Obaachan~
To MFA, or Not To MFA~
MOPT II- The Second Half of the Story~
MOPT- Half of the Story~
Dot to Dot~
Backstory in Nonfiction~
Online Writing Classes~
An Ode to the Cliché~
An Accidental Writer~
A Little Bite, Please~
The Winter Solstice~
Peace On Earth~
The Thing on My Desk~
Into the Ears of Cleaning Ladies~
Time for a Post~
Book Reviews~
Computer Poltergeists~
The Meme Challenge~
Blog Fatigue~
The Kingbird Convention
Wanted: Virus. Short-term Use Only~
Secretarial or Procurement~
Some Thoughts on My Father-in-law
LBJ's
The Vicissitudes of Growing Older
Amazing Husbands
Separate in Another World
Cleaning Up Around the Place
Breakfast With the Howlers
Red Letter Day!
Jungle Cats and the Old Revision Blues
Everything Wiggly and Poisonous
Ethnocentric Japan
Japan Notes
Headed for Japan with Pnuenomia
I Finally Get a Cell Phone
Cell Phones and How to Get Them
High winds
I.C.E.
A scrivener using Scrivener

 

May 2012
M T W T F S S
« Apr    
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031  

Writing Life

  • A Handful of Stones
  • A.Word.A.Day
  • Barking Mad in Amble by the Sea
  • Beth and Writing
  • Camroc Press Review
  • Craig Childs
  • Gary Presley
  • Internet Review of Books
  • Internet Writing Workshop Blog
  • Karna Converse
  • KM Weiland's Word Play
  • Nathan Bransford
  • Paul Coelho Blog
  • Rebeca Schiller
  • Reefs of Lilliput
  • ScribbleGal
  • The Edited Life- Gwen Hernandez
  • The Subversive Copyeditor
  • The Word is My Oyster
  • Writer Beware

About this site

scmorgan grew up in the Pacific Northwest where she learned not everything is black and white. Now she lives in the jungles of the Costa Rica where shades of gray cover the full spectrum. Her work has appeared in Bluestem, Camroc Press Review, Notre Dame magazine, among others. Sometimes she blogs and sometimes she just lives her life.

Meta

  • Log in
  • Entries RSS
  • Comments RSS
  • WordPress.org
Copyright © 2012 sc morgan. All Rights Reserved.
loading Cancel
Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
Email check failed, please try again
Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.