Every Tuesday I look forward to my trip to civilization with great anticipation, like an eager puppy who gets his weekly outing to the neighborhood dog park. By taking this trip to civilization I mean leaving my remote casa located up on the mountain six kilometers removed from the small Costa Rican town of Ciudad Colon, population 16,000.
For me, this local Central American province, mostly untouched over the past 25 years from modern development, has come to represent civilization, with its small cafes, called sodas in Central America, its park and farmers market which takes place twice a week on Tuesdays and Saturdays. To go even further into civilization, the modern world, requires a ride on the public bus into the more developed areas of Santa Ana and Escazu.
Most Tuesdays I like to make my way into the Ciudad Colon, have my favorite breakfast of gallo pinto, huevos frito, queso frito and tortillas at the soda across from the park, then make the trip into the modern world, the Multiplaza in Escazu, a large
shopping center with all of the modern stores and amenities. There is even a cinema.
On this bright morning as I made my way onto the bus with my 500 colones coin in hand, I found my way to an empty seat near the front of the bus. The bus was surprisingly uncrowded for 10am on a weekday. The sun was shining and a cool breeze was making its way through the open window next to me as we made our way through traffic leaving the small town of Ciudad Colon toward the Multiplaza shopping center in Escazu.
This was my Tuesday ritual, to leave my quiet casa on the mountaintop for a day in the modern world of civilization at the large shopping center. I anticipated the opportunity to have a coffee in a nice cafe, people watch and perhaps visit the large bookstore in the mall.
As we slowly made our way through the busy morning traffic there wasn’t much to look at, just another large city filled with too many cars on the road, going from one end of the city to another. And so I found myself meditating on the lovely shades of black and brown strands of hair of the woman sitting in front of me, brushed into perfect alignment with a brightly conditioned sheen and pulled into a pony tail. She was likely heading to a job somewhere and had clearly taken great care and pride in the appearance of her hair. From behind I also noticed her attention was fully immersed in her phone and she was completely unaware of anything else in the world around her.
Also at this time, I happened to notice a huge green grasshopper just above the window directly next to the woman, and her perfect hair. It is important to note here just how large grasshoppers can be in Costa Rica. I once took a photo of a grasshopper next to my foot. It was about 1/2 the size of my size 10 1/2 shoe. This one was no smaller in size.
After landing just above the woman’s perfect hair, he seemed to be looking directly at me as if to see what I might do. I was staring at him. He was staring at me. It became a staring contest. Remarkably, I seemed to be the only passenger on the bus who was aware of this unfolding drama. Everyone else was immersed in their phones. As we rode through traffic and the grasshopper and I stared each other down, I began to imagine worst case scenarios, such as if the grasshopper were to make another leap onto the baby being held by the young mother next to me, or even worse, into the perfect hair of the woman sitting in front of me, completely unaware of what was potentially about to happen.My imagination began to run away with me. What if he leapt into her blouse seeking shade from the Costa Rica heat. I began to recall the many movies I had seen with passengers screaming out of control on buses, trains and planes.
As the grasshopper began slowly moving, inching his way closer and closer toward the woman and me, I realized that I had to do something to prevent the potential mayhem on the moving bus. He was now just inches away from the top of her head and appeared much larger than originally perceived. I was unsure if my hand was even large enough to grab him. When traveling or living in other countries, I always try to be respectful of the culture, more reserved and less inclined to do anything that would draw attention to myself as the foreigner. Surely I was about to do just that. But in this case, it was the moment of truth. I had to do something. I had to step up and defend the honor of this woman and her hair from what was about to take place, the innocent baby and mother sitting next to me had to be spared.
And so I made my move. I gently but firmly put my hand onto the shoulder of the woman in front of me. She slowly turned around. I calmly reassured her without speaking a word what was about to go down, by slowly pointing at the fist-sized grasshopper just inches above her head. Her eyes lit up and widened in horror but she did not scream. In one swift martial-like sequence, I stood up, slammed her window open with one hand, grabbed the grasshopper with the other hand and rapidly slung him out the window.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
I sat back into my seat and smiled, feeling relieved. My good deed for the day had been done. It so happened that the woman and I got off at the same stop. She thanked me profusely in Spanish and we went our separate ways. I walked down the road knowing that somewhere in the middle of traffic sat a very large grasshopper.
Sumi Grasshopper painting, 2019
View from the Road
When I first arrived in Ciudad Colon, I discovered there was a tiny cafe located near me on the mountain. It was run by a woman and her daughter. Despite being in a very remote area, she had clearly poured her heart and love into this tiny cafe which served quality food that was all locally sources. The cafe also has a garden nursery and sells plants. Often days I would be the only person for the day.
Over time we became friends and she was kind enough to offer me rides into town each week when she was heading in. She had been a principal for many years in Costa Rica before her passion project. She just celebrated one year in business and despite losing money she is still going and holding to her vision.
This week I began volunteering to help her in the garden. I rediscovered how much I enjoyed the gardens in Kyoto and “working meditation” at Seikenji temple. I was reminded again that working in the garden surrounded by nature is nourishment for the soul.
Field Notes
I grew up in the city
from the day I was born
buildings
concrete
traffic
fast food
like landing in a place
out of sync
with my natural rhythm
I grew up with toys
not trees
as this world
tried its best
to mold me
into something
I was not
there is something
within us
that calls us back
to our true nature
the rhythm of life
there is nothing
that has satisfied
my soul
as much
as planting a garden
then watching it grow
Poem written during the pandemic
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