When I Find a Magic Tree

As I stare at the rain for the fourth consecutive day, I contemplate the highlights of my trip/escape/walkabout. 

I am taking care of the cats, walking to the Pension, meeting new friends if I want to, eating, making dinner, relaxing. I drank too much wine a couple of days ago. This was the first time I woke in the morning and didn’t feel like doing anything. Not again. Yeah, right. I did enjoy playing Jenga and charades with two Autralians, one German, two Romanians and a Swiss.

I was a little worried that I was still drunk when I looked outside and saw two cows instead of one.

Luckily, there were two. 

The other one is named 1891. I don’t like this one as much as 380. 380 is much nicer, and moos more contentedly. 380 doesn’t seem to mind me. 1891 stares a bit too long at me and the cats.

So back to the contemplation.

I made a little list of the things I wanted to do when I came to Costsa Rica. 

Seeing monkeys, sloths, iguanas, coatis and other strange animals (in the wild) – Check!

Seeing toucans, parrots, other cool birds and hummingbirds (in the wild) – Check!

Swimming in two oceans – Check!

Surfboarding – Chickened out!

Ziplining across the canopy and going on a Tarzan swing – Check! (the Tarzan swing was a surprise)

Meeting tons of new people – Check!

Thinking about life and changing or something nebulous like that – Check!

Learning and speaking Spanish - Not So Much...

Walking and seeing waterfalls and hiking, everywhere – Check, Check, Check! (extra checks for amount of hiking)

Eating Tico food – everyday! In six weeks, I have only had one hamburger. I have eaten more fruit than I expected, lots of fish (because I know how to order fish!) and less salad. Yay! 

But there was one thing that I did not expect.

You know when you are out somewhere and you come across a piece of nature that makes you just go wow? 

This is what happened when I went to the magic tree. I have stayed here in Santa Elena because of this tree.

All I know is that I take people to the magic tree, and they believe. I think I have been with at least 20 people at the magic tree and it never gets old.

This tree is a strangler fig. It’s a ficus. But not the wee ficus that you have as a house plant.

Here’s a YouTube video on the type of tree/vine if you are visual and want to learn more - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCUtpmwacoE

 

So this tree is in a forest above the small town of Santa Elena. To get there, you have to walk up the side of the hill, along dirt roads, for a kilometer or so, probably at about a 35 degree incline. Since we’re at 1600 meters here, there’s less oxygen. It’s a bit of a workout, and worth every step (and it’s all downhill on the way back!).

There’s a trail in the forest, and you walk around until you find the tree. There’s more than one, and it’s a wonderful calm forest with all sorts of cool plants. You hear birds, don’t see much because of the high canopy. This is old growth forest, and the plants fight for sunlight. This is the amazing part.

The following text is not scientific. If you want that, go here. http://www.blueplanetbiomes.org/strangler_figs.htm

 

A very large tree grows up into the canopy. Probably takes it 75 years. Then seeds that are spread from animals that poop in the tree then germinate, and thin tendrils creep down towards the ground. When they reach the ground, they feed on the nutrients and grow and wrap around the host tree. After years of this, the fig tree is able to find more sunshine in the canopy. This cuts off the sun for the big tree, and as more vines wind around the host tree, it dies, since it can’t get any sun. Then it rots over the years, and the fig tree is all that’s left. It forms a hollow ladder of vines that you can see inside.

So we go to the tree, and you can go to the base and look up into the tree. And amazingly, you can climb inside the tree! You use the natural lattice of the vines and climb up and up, probably at least 25 meters.

But this is why it’s magic.

Every place that you need to find a handhold when you climb, there is a natural vine that fits your hand. When you need a foothold, there is one perfect for your foot. It’s like the tree grew a certain way and it wanted humans to climb her/him/it.

I like having phobias. So I am afraid of heights (acrophobia) and of close dark tight spots (claustrophobia). Since I like most bugs and spiders and things, the ones who were hanging out with me in the tree didn’t bug me. Much.

But I went up this tree, and as it narrows, you can still climb your way past the tight spots to a place where there is a hole, that opens up into the canopy. It forms a natural seat, and you can crank your head around and look at the tops of the trees and the ocean in the distance. Sunset up there is spectacular. Or, since I’m up to a challenge, you can climb out of the hole and stand against the trunk next to it, and hang onto more vines. It’s so much fun. 

Your adrenaline races, your mind clears and you can feel the tree holding you in its embrace, sheltering you from the world, willing you to relax and breathe deep and think clearly.

To those who sat with me up there and talked about life, I thank you. To those who supported us while we were are the top, thank you. 

I felt free and energized and happy.

The tree allowed me to dream anew, and things became clearer. The magic of the tree just flows into you, and you are thankful.

When I leave Costa Rica, I think the best thing I have seen and done is climb this tree. It’s like being six years old and 90 all at the same time. The Hindus believe the stranger fig is a sacred tree. I agree with them. I have never thanked a tree before, but I need to say thank you to this one. So thank you tree, you have made me very happy to have met you.

In the rain looking up

In the sun, looking up

Earth Star

 

Where I can do my own laundry…

I am house sitting for a couple of days, where they have a washer and dryer. But no coffee maker, which is bad.

I like not paying for where I am staying. This is the second time that wonderful people have offered, and it is a good time for me to sleep a bit more and recharge and socialize a bit less. Kind of like a vacation in a vacation.

I am currently debating with myself on whether or not I can afford to go to Ecuador and the Galapagos to meet friends in January. Should I go? and when I come back, i want to find someone who wants to go to the Far East for three months. Any takers?

But back to the house. I am here to look after two cats, one about 18 months - a female named Donia and an eight week old kitten called Squintz. (I used the z instead of the s ‘cause I like it that way.) Squintz has a bit of diarrhea. I don’t.

Squintz mews a lot. He likes to be warm. Usually this involves climbing up your bare leg to get close to your chest. Or head.

Squintz has claws. I don't.

I tried to get Sqiuintz to pose for photos, especially with his eyes open. Good luck. 

This is Squintz walking away.

Finally, after many tries, this is the perfectly cute Squintz.

This is Donia. She is hiding. In plain sight.

 

Donia likes to playfully swat Squintz. I think she’s teaching him how to protect himself.  She's a nurturing mom figure, but not the mom.

This is Donia and Squintz sleeping together.

This is the dog next door. Donia doesn’t like the dog.

This is the cow across from the front yard of the house.

This is the number 380, and if there was ever a photo contest for random 380’s, I think it should win.

This is the view from the front of the house. You can see the ocean. Just not in this picture.

This is my favourite place. 

This is me happy.

This is a raccoon.

 This is some sort of crab invasion.

 This is an iguana.

 This is a sloth.

This is an agouti.

This is a monkey. Yet another monkey. Monkeys everywhere... monkey monkey monkey.

This is my life.

Wherever I Am Is My Home

It is always our own self that we find at the end of the journey. The sooner we face that self, the better. - Ella Maillart

Take 9 days, throw yourself into a hostel in Costa Rica, Watch the people as the buses come into town, look at the backpackers coming through the door, the 4x4s parked by the hostel; watch them as they take in the atmosphere, become to unwind from the day or days of travel. Feel their relief in finding the next port in their journey, Watch them as they acclimate to the new surroundings.

Smile at them, say hi in many languages. As they relax, they unburden themselves of their current worldly possessions, receive friendly info on the area from the staff and owners, see them relax more and then think about what to do.

Listen to Bruno Mars, salsa, rock, pop, Santana, a variety of wonderful music in the background.

Feel the sun hitting the porch, watch the town awake, people going to and from ,working, laughing, saying hi. Watching the new arrivals venturing out. Pet the dogs and the cats. Listen to the wind.

Smell the meals as they are prepared, a melange of aromas, gallo pinto, pasta, grilled vegetables, hearing the symphony of knives cutting the fresh fruits of the country. Listen to the travellers introducing themselves. 

Where are you from? How long are you here for? How long are you traveling? Where are you going? Where have you been? 

Then, if a connection is made, the opening begins. The sharing. Not anything so crass as how can you afford it, or judgemental as to decisions made by one life. But questions to find out what brought them to this place at this time. Kids before University, after school before work, on an extended vacation, on a worldwide trip, on a journey to see Central America, on a sabbatical, a walkabout, a bike trip, an escape, a reward for a job well done, a sharing, an adventure.

Soon enough, an exploration of similarity. Embracing differences, learning about cultures different than your own, posing questions. Do the Dutch hate the Germans? Why is Slovakia poorer than Czech? Hockey? What is applied physics? How much water do I have to drink in a hot climate in a day? How can Rush be the favourite band of a Brazilian? How can you be Panamanian and American when one parent is Columbian? What’s it like to be the only woman inspector on the San Francisco cable cars? How does the Swedish health system work? What’s going to happen in Europe? America? Is it really that cold in Canada? What sports do you guys do in school? What did you do to help your kids be so wonderful? Why that style of art? What is an Earth Star?

Watching the new people get into their groove, laughing, becoming part of this transitory community, all of us searching for knowledge, excitement, knowing. Gathering in like-minded groups, yet open to later arrivals, willing to include the individual, joining together. Planning excursions together; from something around the corner to going to another country together, all based on intuition and trust and openness.

In my case, and I don’t know why, I am meeting people for an additional reason.

They are giving me gifts. Earth shattering gifts. Mind numbing gifts.  

My new friends are telling me their stories. They are opening their hearts. I am so grateful that they are trusting me to hold them in high esteem, to open themselves to tell their truths. They are showing themselves to me in a way that makes them emotional, and as I do the same, we realize that we have met in this place at this time because it is fated. Fated because we are on a journey that requires this crossroads, perhaps to support or galvanize or prod or to just recognize and appreciate. 

And they listen to me, and support me and listen to my life and my plan for the next four years, and they approve. And I am totally at peace with my choices, and this makes me open my heart to them even more.

We recognize that there is not one correct way to live this life on Earth and I am so pleased that they chose to come to my current home. 

 

To talk of options and filter though choices together, to gather enough mutual respect to move forward in the directions that we have chosen and to do so withour rancor and judgement and misunderstanding.

We revel in our lives, and the genuineness of these wonderful people shine through.

I have known (but not accepted until now) that the one thing that keeps me young and makes me happy, truly happy, is when I am being true to myself and when I am talking to someone about their dreams.

The split second that I see the spark in the eyes of the person that I am talking to – when something I say helps them resonate with their true self, when a kind word or an intuitive statement causes them to re-evaluate or when a hug or a look and an affirmation about their lifepath comes across, is when I am blissful.

I have been given a gift. I have been entrusted to help reveal and nurture and grow and even facilitate the dreams of others. I embrace this gift.

And in turn, I give them who I am, what I know and whatever I have to help them in this crossroads. Perhaps as life passes by, we will continue to be known to each other, perhaps to meet again or open our homes to each. I hope so, for this ‘Intentional Transitoryness’ (TM Mellissa deOlivera 2011) is some deep shit.

What then occurs, as we share and walk and cook and eat and drink and laugh and actually cry together, as we learn of each other’s lives and hopes and dreams, we are bonded.

And I am so thankful.

Perhaps when my home find itself in Sweden or Holland or Costa Rica or Chicago or California or Washington or Zurich or Rio or about 27 places in Germany, I have a place to stay and more importantly, I have someone to talk to that I have shared my life with.

The sadness and bucolic times begin when they think of moving on. It seems that those that I wish to stay seem to extend their days in Monteverde, for which I am so happy.  So I get one more day. But then they leave. With a tear in my eyes and in theirs, with a crushing hug, a kiss and pat on the back, I say goodbye.

And I sit down and reflect. I remember my old friends in Canada. I wish they could meet my new friends. I miss you all.

And then I just wait for the bus to come, so I can meet the next people that are meant to cross my path and help me learn about myself and the world.

I am so appreciative.

I have a great life.

 These photos are from long ago, in Manuel Antonio and Quepos.