Monte Verde, the Cloud Forest, and my Mysterious Place......

Posted Sunday November 8th from Puerto Limon, Caribbean Coast


Off line Blog Friday 6 November:

Today was the day to visit the big live Volcano at Arenal, and then to drive the back country to get to the Cloud Forest around Monte Verde. It was pretty much a day of spectacular scenery, and slipping, sliding and bouncing along some rough but very pretty mountain roads. I have a good number of photos which I will post at the end of the blog as usual.

I stopped at a coffee cooperative and got some free samples of the best coffee I have ever tasted. I bought a couple of bags of it. It is organically grown in the Mountains around Monte Verde. As always, my timing was off. I drove up in a driving rainstorm, and I got the feeling I was the only client that showed up all day. That happens to me a lot.

I drove right through the cloud forest coming from Arenal rather than from the main highway. When I asked someone which to Monte Verde, they said “You just passed it. So I went back to look for a hotel. I found one on a little moutain road about 2 kilometers off the main road. It’s the most Idylic spot I have ever seen. Look at the pictures and you will see what I mean.

There are a lot of people here, but they are very quiet and, to me, they seemed a little more serene than most folks I know. There are no phones or TVs in the cabins. Seem a little odd? I thought so. I had a few brief words with some people, but not much. I ran into a guy from Boston who was a little more talkative. As we parted ways, he said “Oh, I believe there is a Shaman Service tonight. You’re welcome to come.” “Uh, I’m a little on the conventional side, And I’m not exactly sure what a Shaman does.”

“Well he’s like a guy who figures out natural healing qualities of certain plants and herbs, and he can see into the future and the past to see what will work for you. It originated with some of the ancient pre-Christian Religions.”

“Oh, I see, there’s a spiritual element to it.” “Oh yes, very much so.”

Then I remembered that the guy in the cabin next to mine looked very much like a Shaman. Sort of indigenous with very long hair pulled back, and a deep voice.

Why does this stuff always happen to me. I just hope no-one bleeds any chickens around my place. There is a swimming pool, warm thermal springs, and a bar and restaurant. I will be headed for the bar momentarily. From Monte Verde Deep in the “Selve” (Spanish for Savage Wilderness)

Guy

FOOTNOTE TO FRIDAYS BLOG:

You would surely believe that I could make it to the bar without an incident. You would. But, you would be wrong. I stepped out of my cabin, and it was pitch black. I couldn’t see anything. OK, I’ll go to my vehicle and get a flashlight. So, I step down onto the stoop, and carefully put my foot down on the concrete step. Feels solid, so I shift my weight forward onto the top step. Problem was, it wasn’t a step. It was the top of a water chute built into the side of the mountain. It was made of concrete, but wasn’t meant to be walked on. Now, there is nothing slicker than a water chute in a rainforest. Nothing that I have seen.

So, My left foot, the one on the chute, slipped out from under me. Everything else followed. Right foot, arms , legs, ass, and all the rest. The chute was only about 5 feet long. It was at a steep angle, so within a half second I found myself sprawled into the roadway below the cabin. I wasn’t sure if I was hurt, so, I just laid there for a couple of minutes. Someone came up with a flashlight and asked “Are you OK?” In perfect English. Hoping to save whatever dignity I might have left, I hopped up and said, “Oh yes I’m fine”.

“We thought you were a wild animal at first.” I never heard a wild animal holler, “Oh Shit”, but, who knows?

Anyway, except for some serious looking bruises on my elbows and hands and a very sore pinky finger, I figured I was, surprisingly, OK. I made it to the bar, had a couple of stiff drinks, gazed toward the rushing river , and felt much better.

The next morning, I was sore almost everywhere. Painfully aware of my 70 years, I decided to head for the hot spring. It was early and there was just one guy in the spring. Awkward silences aren’t permitted down here so I said “Muy Buenos Dias!”. He said Good Morning. Then, I told him I did have an accident last night. He seemed very concerned and motioned me over. He examined my pinky finger, my various bruises, and pulled on my arm till it sort of slipped forward. Then, he did the other arm. Then my shoulder blade joints, then my shoulders. Each time, something would snap into place. I figured either this guy is the Shaman, or he’s a chiropractor. Turned out he was neither. He worked for the Aduana, or Customs Agency. His name was Gerardo. Between the hot spring and the chiropractory, I felt much better.


I found out that morning that the guy in the next cabin was a Shaman. There was more than one. Several. In fact. I guess there is some sort of rating system that determines degree of Shamanism. Hey, I’m not knocking it. I think they are maybe better than some of the people we call doctors. The shaman had a strange habit of leaving his door slightly ajar all the time. It might mean,”I’m here if you need me.”

Interesting night! I won't forget it.When I took my fall, he wasn't around.  I believe he was presiding over a ceremony of physical and spiritual cleansing that took from 8:00 PM till 3: 00 AM.  Maybe, I should have showed up for that. I only found out about it next morning.