The Astounding Travel Adventures of a Miraculous Fellow

Costa Rica
June 2, 2008, 1:50 pm
Filed under: The Salvador


Okay, no more politically motivated stuff.

From here on out, my emails will only be interesting stories of memories past, or lines from Celine Dion songs.  “And IIIIIIIIII, eeee, IIIIIII will always love youuuuuuuu.”  

Oh shit, that’s Whitney Houston.  

Well, f ‘em both.

So, I am now in Costa Rica, at a hostel with free internet.  I shall be here for many, many moons, emailing people at will.   The connection here is like my favorite actor Vin Diesel – fast and furious.

Well, Costa Rica is very, very different from my home in the Bajo Lempa region of El Salvador.  Today I “flew” in an “airplane” to the “airport” to get here.  That would be the Salvadoran equivalent to riding in a pickup truck full of 35 other people to a dirt hole in the road which serves as the bus stop.  Next I took a taxi to the hostel, instead of my brakeless bike to my shared bedroom.  Then I went to a restaurant. Apparently, where I live, there is no equivalent to a restaurant, because you only eat at home, or possibly kill a chicken on the road and consume him there on the spot.  At the restaurant I ate mozzarella sticks, a cheeseburger and fries, and two beers for 10 bucks.  Sure beats tortillas and beans, with no drink (although that only costs 4 cents).  While eating I watched Centro de Deportes on ESPN which featured “Especial de Beisbol” — “Baseball Tonight”.  I sure do like baseball.  They have a game like baseball here, only instead of hitting a ball with a bat, it involves kicking a rabid dog in the face as he tries to consume your flesh.  The general concept is the same, but “Kick Dog” doesn’t quite pull the crowds as baseball.  Yet.  Mainly because they haven’t defined the Babe Ruth of “Kick Dog”.  Although Jose Manuel Garcia Rivera is as close as it gets.  But you already knew that.   

After gorging myself on dinner, I will have the glorious pleasure of using flush toilets to dispose of my poop, which is sure to be plentiful.  As of yet it hasn’t happened, but in
my next email I’ll be sure to describe that entire process in full.  Also, it’s nice to not have to shine your flashlight into the shitter before doing your business to look for scorpions. My greatest fear involves scorpions attempting to breach the strictly enforced “exit only” that is my cornhole.

But, enough about my cornhole.  Upon returning to my hostel, there were English speaking people watching English speaking programs on an English speaking TV.  I feel like I died and went to England. Although, in this England, everyone has American accents.  American England – Englerica or Americgland.

Tomorrow I am going to check out a University here so I can plan my next “getaway” where upon I can try to get a Master’s degree at the same time.  My major will like be “Universe”. Then I call officially call myself “Master of the Universe”. He-Man’s gonna be pissed.  She-Ra’s all mine bitch, probably because you wear tighty whiteys all day long, ya silly freak. Holy shit, this has gotten a bit more out of control than normal. 

Next, I’m off for a nice little surf trip, and I’m not talking about surfing the web, bra. Then I’m heading back to The Salvador for my last three weeks.

Now, after bad-mouthing my peops in The Salv, lemme do some clarifying.  I love El Salvador.  It is so Central American it makes me sick (especially if I drink the water).  It has such a great feel to it and the people are so amazing, that it has firmly established itself as my number one country in Central America.  There are no tourists there, so when you go, you get the real culture — up front and personal, like a crazed mutt trying to eat your bike and stomach contents.  

Kick Dog, anyone?

Please feel free to regale me with your stories of Fourth of July glory.  I had quite a time here.  Determined not to miss out on the festivities, I rented a truck, strapped myself to the top, painted my body red, white and blue, stuck sparklers in my ears, and drove around town blaring “Born in the USA”, “God Bless the USA” and “When a Man Loves a Woman” by Celine Dion (even a tough minded party like that needs a soft and tender edge to it).  Well, after my car was hijacked, I walked home.  But the sparklers were in full bloom.


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