(From the Continuing Adventures of the Bizarre Costa Rican Death and Reincarnation of the Fearless Puppy) by Doug “Ten” Rose

Did you ever see that National Geographic special about the effect of drugs on wildlife? One particularly impressive experiment featured a spider. They gave the unsuspecting arachnid a bit of LSD, in the hope of observing behavioral changes. They got their show. Our eight-legged hero began spinning a web for the camera. The web resulting from this marriage of spider and hallucinogen resembled an Escher staircase scene after a visit from the Unibomber.

Welcome to San Jose, Costa Rica, an architectural schizophrenia unparalleled anywhere in the known universe. An average city street can house a white stately-columned mansion next to a dilapidated red, yellow, and black Rasta restaurant next to a rococo masterpiece of a building in powder blue that neighbors an orange grocery store sitting next to a soot-charred auto repair shop beside a massive post-modern glass-front high-rise office building adjoining a cemetery fenced in protectively by concertina wire while the ornate church on the same grounds sits with doors wide open—and the beat goes on.

When I first got off the plane and was waiting in the immigration line, a fellow traveler from America and I struck up a conversation. He was making his fifth trip to Costa Rica. I asked him for the one thing he would deem most important to tell a first time visitor who had nine months to spend in the land of Pura Vida. He replied, “Stay out of San Jose. It’s the armpit of Costa Rica. The rest of the country is beautiful.” Of course, he didn’t know I was involved in a mid-death experience and that San Jose was the perfect place for me. There are plenty of opportunities to die here—and several more opportunities to be reincarnated. (For those who haven’t, please see the first article in this series The Bizarre Costa Rican Death and Reincarnation of the Fearless Puppy for details. It is archived here and also available on Fearless Puppy’s Facebook group page).

I’m in an apartment that the dentist’s office hooked me up with. It costs twice as much as the rent I usually pay in Vermont or New Mexico, much less the nothing I’ve paid for rent during most of my forty years on the road. (Admittedly, many Americans would look on $650 a month with everything included as pretty reasonable.) There are no monkeys in the courtyard as I had hoped for. It’s just a 20-foot concrete slab with a few potted plants in a corner, and several of the yuppie landlords' (very nice people) sports cars jammed in. The view is of massive industrial metal garage doors and a stone wall. There is a musty, moldy smell from a leaky wall near the bed that makes breathing less fun than it should be.

Luckily I've learned by now, after all my fearless puppy travels, not to romanticize a location before arrival. This place will serve its purpose. I’m going to the dentist (separate article next time on the miraculous Costa Rican dental experience) this afternoon to see how fast we can set up the work schedule. I’ve had more severe withdrawal symptom experiences in much less hospitable places, so that part of the program will be no problem here either. It won’t be too long a haul. Those monkeys are out there somewhere in this country, and I’ll find them as soon as my mouth is reincarnated.

San Jose seems an odd mix of Northampton, Massachusetts bits thrown in a blender with Detroit. Some parts even feel like Brattleboro, but it is hard to think of a city this big in relation to our oversized country village. My neighborhood seems to have a heavier accent on the Northampton feel. The center of downtown is certainly heavier on the Detroit.

TWO DAYS LATER

Things looked pretty bleak upon entry to San Jose, but by the end of the third day Tico (that’s what Costa Ricans call themselves) hospitality has kicked the shit out of my jet lag and at least part of the withdrawal symptoms. Maybe that Saint John’s Wort and the stepped-up meditation time have also helped. Maybe the assorted withdrawals are just naturally starting to lighten up.

I’ve been through this shit a thousand times and it still amazes me just how much a person’s attitude is responsible for sculpting that person’s happiness or misery. There have been some minor changes in external reality over the past couple of days, but nothing to account for my massive shift toward positive outlook. The people were just as nice and the neighborhood was the same when I felt so badly about it a few days ago. The streets, the trees, the flowers were all just as lovely two days ago as they are now. George Harrison was right. It is “all in your mind.”

The leak in the wall is being fixed for the next tenant and the landlords have moved me to a second floor apartment with hardwood floors and a large outdoor patio that views the mountains. These landlords get nicer every time I see them. He works for the Costa Rican government’s foreign service and she comes from a family of clothing manufacturers. These folks adopted a pregnant street dog whose back legs were totaled by a car. Esteban and Suantzy built the crippled dog a set of strap-on training wheels and take it for regular walks. They kept one of her pups and farmed out the rest to good homes. Knowing them better makes it hard to think ill of them for owning an excessive number of cars.

The East End of San Jose rocks! There are Japanese, Argentine, Italian, and Caribbean restaurants within two blocks of my apartment on 15 Avenue. The Caribbean place has live Calypso music on Thursday and Friday nights. Within a 10-block radius are a Cultural Center featuring The Eugene O’Neil Theatre, an architectural university, a language school, a Brahmin meditation center, a kindergarten school, a bowling alley with pool tables, a public school, several restaurants featuring local fare, and a vegetarian tea house/restaurant featuring fresh squeezed juices for $2 with a yoga and massage school attached to it.

I’ll be less clever than usual for a few weeks while the poisons move out of my brain and body, and the adaptation to the new environment takes hold. Today was no exception. I tried to give the juicebar lady 10,000 Colones (@$20 US) for a juice. She insisted on only 1000 Colones (@ $2) and took fifteen minutes to explain the monetary system to me (in Spanish). The same cordiality and honesty will not be available throughout the city, but this neighborhood seems very consistent in providing it. Most of the folks I have run into in the ‘hood are, so far, as friendly as anyone I’ve ever met anywhere. It has become obvious that my rent is as much a payment for the neighborhood as it is a payment for the apartment itself. I also found the more mundane during my initial ten block exploration —a supermarket, gas station (@$1.10 US per liter), pharmacy, computer repair shop, busy streets with lots of traffic and air pollution, and quiet streets resembling country suburbs just a few blocks from the noisy ones.

Overall, I would say it is expensive to live in Costa Rica. Food can be less expensive than in New England, probably by about 1/3 or more in general--but it depends on what you are buying. Great fresh fish is about half the US price. Anything locally produced is cheaper, but a massive import tax is responsible for things such as cars, computers, and appliances costing upwards of 50% more than we are used to in America. A bottle of Listerine costing $4 in the US can cost $6-$10 here, depending on where you buy it. Morningstar soy burgers are available at three times the average US price. A $10 jar of Vitamin C is $22. Anything manufactured out of the country has a price tag on it that would scare even a Woodstock, Vermont old-money yuppie into the Rutland Wal-mart.

Food is not as much of a concern for the East Enders as it is for some of their downtown cousins a couple of miles away. Much of this city is charming if not beautiful, but central downtown contains some of the most gruesome sections of city that I’ve ever seen. The streets are crowded with pedestrians and in some places log-jammed by long lines of people waiting for the public busses. Traffic is insane. Drivers are so aggressive they make NY cabbies and LA road-ragers look like Monks and Nuns. Potholes are massive and they are everywhere in the central district. They can eat a chassis quickly. Cars don’t live long here.

Neither do some of the people. Open drainage ditches and pits are a deadly hazard to pedestrians, although they are very necessary. Flash-flood caliber runoff is not unusual during the rainy season. Certain streets are thickly lined with homeless drug addicts who can be seen sleeping three or four on a mattress that any self-respecting dumpster would evict. Crime is increasing rapidly. Picking pockets is the crime of choice on the meaner streets. Violence infrequently rears its ugly head--but at its worst San Jose is still a good deal tamer than major US cities. Murders and muggings are extremely rare. A local informed me that the three million people of San Jose suffer as few murders a year in their town (50 or so) as some major US cities experience in a month! But there are only so many crack freaks a neighborhood can hold before the shit hits the fan. The relatively Ghandian Tico temperament is shocked by the recent present and frightened by what the future may hold.

The locals and expat Americans tell me that squalor and degradation in central downtown are increasing exponentially. I’m not sure exactly what exponentially means or even if I’ve spelled it correctly, but there’s no other word I’m aware of that can describe the disappointment Ticos have regarding the increase in negativity that is appearing in sections of their capital city’s downtown.

As in any big city, you’d better know which streets you are walking on before you walk on them.

Some of the locals attribute these problems to a large influx of illegal immigrants from other countries in Central America. Twenty-five percent or so of the city’s rapidly growing population supposedly falls into this class. These arbitrary aliens from just a few miles down the road have come to a more reasonable place to find a more reasonable life. Many have succeeded and become valuable assets to their new communities. Many have not. Other locals say it was going to happen anyway, and that there are at least as many Costa Rican nationals out on those hellish streets as there are immigrants. Wherever these suffering folks originated doesn’t matter. They all breathe the stench of a death that will never know reincarnation, and have forgotten where they came from a long time ago. It is a tear-provoking sight, although the worst of it is contained in an area smaller than ten square blocks.

Everyone agrees in blaming drugs. Most seem happy to see the recent influx of 8,000 or so US troops, and a few US ships patrolling their waters. This troop movement was supposedly inspired by the drug problem and designed to remedy it. Even those who doubt the potential effectiveness of this process are at least happy to see an effort being made. Of course, whether this troop movement really has to do with a drug war or the rumored resurgence of the Contra movement in neighboring Nicaragua, or soldiers on leave, or a US counterbalance to the recent increase in Chinese influence here is questionable, but the Ticos I’ve met believe the first option. Most of the locals that I have spoken to so far are still naive enough to picture America as the planetary guardian riding a white horse. I understand that many Ticos, from the ghettos to the university, think differently.

The Chinese influence is a disappointing stain on the fabric of Pura Vida. In 2007 the Costa Rican government abandoned a long time alliance with Taiwan to change its UN vote in favor of Communist China. The Chinese then built an Olympic caliber stadium here at no charge to Costa Rica. I’m sure it cost more than 30 pieces of silver, but there are correlations to the better-known story. China is now one of Costa Rica’s major trading partners. I guess even Paradise is for sale. In Costa Rica’s defense, their political corruption is no more severe than that of most of the world’s nations. It is still disappointing to see fat cats run rich while school kids don’t have books, cars die in a pot-holed infrastructure, and a nation’s integrity is sold to the Chinese Communist gangsters.

In all fairness to the area known as downtown, it stretches out for a long distance in every direction and a lot of it is no worse than any big city. Most of it is very pleasant and much of it is culturally wealthy. Some of it is beautiful--but the most central district itself is hell on a street corner.

Here’s some info about the more pleasant sections of town that make up the majority of San Jose.

But first, it seems important to inform you of a part of Costa Rica that you will certainly see evidence of if you ever visit. It is not on every street corner, but you will run into it somewhere in the country and especially in the capital city. Prostitution is legal. Oddly enough, pimping isn’t. I’m not going to do any first hand research for you here, but from what I hear many of the prostitutes are single moms supporting children in a society that offers few other opportunities--but not all of the these working girls are independent operators. Some of the sex trade involves slavery. The government is not at all sympathetic with the slavery aspect of its sex trade and steps are being taken to uproot it—but these steps have not yet been very effective. For those of you innocents reading this who may not be aware of the facts, sex slavery occurs in every country in the world—even America. But obviously in a country where prostitution is legal there are increased opportunities for this criminal tragedy to slip under the radar.

There is a government department that does hooker health inspections monthly, but counterfeit documentation is not uncommon. Even if a working girl has a card saying she has been inspected, it may well be a falsified one.

There have been isolated incidents of hookers luring tourists into pocket picking situations, but not many. As holds true for all this type of activity no matter where in the world it takes place, if you roll around in the muck you are bound to get some on you in one fashion or another.

The Costa Rican legal system saves its most potent weapons for a different type of sex crime. If you like screwing around with kids, please come here to do it. By the time Costa Rica gets done with you, you’ll wish they had buried you under the jail instead of putting you in it.

On a lighter note, there is a small but thriving gay/lesbian scene in San Jose. Here’s another area where I won’t be doing first hand research for you, but I can tell you what I’ve heard. It is generally good and friendly, but there have been isolated incidences of a 20-year old making themselves available to a 50-year old and that 50-year old then ending up fleeced. If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Whether in a gay or straight situation, and for that matter anywhere in the world, this holds true. Locals have suffered the same fate as tourists in this department.

Much like the degradation in the hell-town of El Centro, accent on the sexual is more prevalent in certain districts. Luckily, there is a lot more than sexual satisfaction, potential disease, and danger to be found in San Jose.

The majority of SJ, while still holding the possibility of pick pocketing in many sections, can be beautiful, educational, as safe or safer than any major US city, and very enjoyable.

The city sports many monuments of historical interest, and several lovely little parks featuring touches of nature and fantastic people-watching opportunities.

The National Museum on Second Avenue houses one of the most amazing pre-Columbian collections ever assembled. The building is a restructured military fort that personifies Costa Rica’s peaceful temperament. Jade, stone, well-preserved wooden, and gold pottery, jewelry, musical instruments, and assorted artifacts trace the Tico people’s history back through time into an era long before Europeans discovered traveling conquest and debauchery in this hemisphere. The Plaza de Cultura in the museum area can be the most entertaining spot in town, weather permitting. Street musicians, prophets, and artists are available to the public in a 1960s Greenwich Village type free-for-all. The main action is, coincidentally enough, on East 4th Street.

Several casinos are available to the gambler, often accompanied in the same or adjacent buildings by whorehouses for those interested in a different type of gamble.

Costa Rica is a very religious, and often spiritual country. Catholicism is the main religion and cathedrals abound in the capital city as they do in most Latin American countries. But CR also has the highest concentration of Buddhist activities in all of Central America, noticeable Brahmin and Jewish presences, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and several other factions of Christian. Herbal spiritualism akin to the Wiccan tradition is strongly present. There is also a good deal of New Age activity here. Yoga centers, Pilates, and various other forms of spiritually related exercise systems are very popular. Legitimate massage and acupuncture are readily available. There are even tiny smatterings of Goth and Satanism.

San Jose’s central market takes up a couple of city blocks and offers every type of meat, fruit, vegetable, and medicinal herb available in the country. There is a much smaller but very colorful organic market on Saturdays at Collegio Mexico.

The National Theatre is the architectural pride and joy of San Jose, and the nation. It is well worth visiting. The vision of Belgian architects and Italian decorators in 1897, this masterpiece of design seats 1,000 and still hosts live performances.

There is no end to the number of daytrips that can be taken from the city. Within striking distance are hot springs, volcanoes, jungle canopy zip-line experiences, beaches, and a gorgeous and diverse array of flora and fauna (please see the accompanying videos below).

In spite of its problems, San Jose is a wonderful city. It is tamer, friendlier, and has as much to offer as any major city in America. If you can stand to be in any place that has over two million people in it, I think you will like this one.


Doug "Ten" Rose

www.fearlesspuppy.org

ALL profits from sales of Fearless Puppy on American Road sponsor Tibetan Monks/Nuns and other Wisdom Professionals.


Videos for this article:

National Museum of Costa Rica:
http://www.photoshow.com/touch/dZ8Ja5NR

San Luis Canopy 2:
http://www.photoshow.com/touch/Ka7qd4nH

Natures Marvels:
http://www.photoshow.com/touch/Ac3ci6ag