Semana Santa in Sámara

We have been back at school for a week now, following our Semana Santa, or Easter Holy Week.  I'm used to having the week AFTER Easter off for holidays, so it's been hard to remember that people at home are on break right now.  There are only about 6 weeks left of school and not all of those are full teaching days.  This is exciting and nervewracking.  I've never met a teacher who wasn't worried about not finishing everything at this time of year.

Semana Santa.  Traditionally, Costa Ricans flood the beaches over the Easter break, especially on the Good Friday weekend.  It was with that in mind that Silvia, Alberto, Sophia and I headed to Playa Sámara in Guanacaste for the first part of the week. 

Playa Carillo at night.  Fuzzy, as I forgot my tripod.

It was an adventure.  Silvia and I work together, and Sophia is my student in the youngest class I have.  Sophia and Alberto hadn't been to Sámara for over five years, and were very excited to see their friends Don José and Doña María.  We were to stay in a home they own and rent out.   After a late start out of San José and stopping for lunch outside of Puntarenas, we arrived in Sámara after dark and met our first obstacle.

Alberto and Don Jose

Don José and his wife María are very poor, by our standards.  The house where we were to stay was tiny, and kind of slapped together.  The only toilet on the property was in this house, which wouldn't have been a problem.  However, Don José had rented the house to someone else, and the door to the toilet was locked.  As it was, we learned later that the water had been turned off in the municipality at 6 pm.  Imagine living somewhere where the water just vanishes, and being used to it!  We are blessed. 

The solution to the house dilemna was this:  we unpacked the airmattresses we brought, blew them up and  put them in one room of Don José's house.  It was a tight, rather dirty squeeze, but it was an adventure.  We were just ready to be out of the car and settled.  Then it was time for bed.  We tried the door to the bathroom again, with no success.  It was the bushes for us, and that settled things for Silvia and I.  We couldn't stay here, regardless of the kindness of these people. (They even killed a chicken for us.)  The story was that I really wanted to go camping, as I'd never done that, at least not on a beach.  We still spent most of the day with them (Don José choosing to catch some shrimp and scare me with them STILL ALIVE) before we finally went to the beach.

Camp Aloha is right on the beach in Sámara, and it's a beautiful location for a campsite.  There was electricity for our fan, and a lightbulb above our cooking area which shocked whomever twisted it to turn it on.  The bathrooms were gross, but present, and you didn't want to take your shoes off anywhere near the showers, but again, they were at least present.  Sunday night was beautiful at the beach, and Monday was super early after admiring the nearly full moon the night before.  When you're sleeping in a tent, the sun wakes you up even more than at home.  I took some beautiful pictures of a sunrise, partly to prove I was really awake at that time!

Monday was uneventful until about 2:30 pm.  We had been to Cangrejal, so named because of all the crabs that live there, in the morning, and were just relaxing in the heat of the day when we heard "Look at the water!"  (Granted, this was in Spanish, so I just followed the direction of everyone else.)  The aforementioned full moon was to blame.  Full moons mean high tides, and with the campsite on the beach, and beside a river feeding into the ocean, we were in for it.  I had never seen waves like this before.  They traveled up the river, and then INTO the campsite from behind.  The lucky people were the ones who had stayed near their tents and such for the afternoon.  The bar was flooded, campsites were drenched...our tent ended up on top of our car by design after everything else went IN the car or on the table.  Strangely, the fact that we were closer to the beach actually saved us from getting wet.  This time.

You can see the water coming up the path from the bar.

There was some worry about the evening tides, but after being assured they would be lower, we went to bed, and slept well.  Sun and ocean will do that to you.  Tuesday started out beautifully again, though not quite as early.  We packed up just what we needed for a day at the beach, and drove over to Playa Carillo.  Normally, this beach is even more gentle than Sámara, but the full moon was at it again.  Double waves were crashing in; a surfer's fun, but a swimmer's nightmare.  I tried some boogie boarding, but without a life jacket I didn't feel safe enough in the nasty waves.  The sun became blisteringly hot again, so we headed back to our campground for lunch and some shade.  While we were gone, the campground manager had hired (illegally) some heavy equipment to build up some dikes around the camp site, so we were able to watch the tides come in very far again, but this time in fascination rather than distress.  So awesome, in the true sense of the word.  How anything can stand up to that level of power is amazing.  I never want to experience a tsunami. 

We thought we were safe.  The tides were falling, the moon wasn't full any more, what else could happen?  Now remember, this is Costa Rica.  It always rains.  Rain it did, Tuesday night.  I heard, "Sophia, Sophia, en la tienda!  Now!" and then a squirming four-year-old is joining me where I was reading.  Dusk was just falling, soon giving way to complete darkness.  Sylvia and Alberto ran around the tent and site, covering this with plastic and moving that into the car.   Sylvia joined Sophia and I, and once again we thought we were safe.

Drip.  Drip.  Drip, drip, drip.  Our tent was leaking.  Yes, we had the rain cover on.  Yes, it was tight and secure.  Apparently, it was not tested to stand up to Costa Rican rain.  My sister has since laughed at me for thinking any tent would be waterproof, but I believed in the sticker.  As it was, we ended up with about two inches of rain in the tent, having dripped down, or soaked in through the sides that were touching the ground.  It sounds bad, but there was a good four inches of water around the tent.  We loaded up Sophia (who had fallen asleep and stayed asleep until the next morning) and some clothes into the car and drove out of the sodden campground into Sámara proper.  The first hotel we came to that was open was a bit of a dive.  The best I could say for it was that it wasn't raining inside, and the toilet was clean.  Sylvia and I were done.  In our minds, it was back to San José as planned the next morning.

We went back to Camp Aloha, and started packing up.  I had all my stuff ready, just waiting for the car, so I took Sophia to the beach.  We played in the waves, and dug a hole for a "swimming pool" in the shallows of the river.  As it was shallow, the water was warm, and the little rocks that rolled down were perfect for decorations.  In this, camping with a child is perfect, as it gave me tacit permission to play like I hadn't played in years.  We coated each other with sand, and played pretend.  Of course, this is also the morning I burnt the top of my legs, as the water was deep enough to keep me wet and cool, but not deep enough to protect my legs after the sunscreen washed away.

Packing up came to a halt when Don Carlos, another friend of Sylvia's and Alberto's, dropped by the campsite.  Apparently, travel on the roads we planned to take was not recommended for travel due to the rain.  I admit to being a little depressed at this.  I was ready to be clean, and sleep in my own bed.  Those of you who know me, know I'm not a very social person.  I needed alone time, badly.  It was not to be, so Sophia and I went back to the beach, with Sylvia joining us.  Alberto kept packing up, as we were to spend the night at Don Carlos' house.

Don Carlos is an older man, probably mid to late 60's, and very much a bachelour.  His house was much improved over the hotel, and I met my first (and second) scorpion.  No sting, but I was very nervous getting into my sleeping bag that night.  Don Carlos himself is quite a character.  He suggested that I could be his Sámara girlfriend, or rather that he could be my Sámara boyfriend.  "A boyfriend for every beach!"  Smiling politely, told him I didn't have time for a boyfriend.  "Mas trabajo"  Too much work.  I escaped, though Sylvia got a kick out of it.  Supper was a variety of seafood, so much so I couldn't finish everything.  Being hot and tired is a pretty good weightloss plan, I guess. Best part was the hummingbird feeder outside the bedroom window.

Thursday morning, Sylvia and I were up and ready to go at 6 am.  Alberto?  We finally left at 8 am.  we stopped in Puntarenas for lunch, and had a lovely, windy walk along the beach there.  We admired the Cruise ship that was docked, and bought souvenirs along the sidewalk.  Packed back into the car, we headed back to San José just in time for it to rain as I was dropped off.  Cassie was dropped off just after I was, so we were both home to deal with the fact I had left the fridge powered off.  Coming home to a drying flood was the icing on the cake.

Next Semana Santa? As much as I like adventure, I'm saving up for an all inclusive resort.