Another Tuesday at the Teatro

For the next three weeks, we’ll be going to the National Theater on Tuesdays. Before we left, though, I called ICE to get technical help for setting up the wireless router. I’d been here for 10 days and was still limited to using Wito’s old (crashy) computer for internet, so it was time to get serious and figure this wireless network out.

I’ll try not to bore anyone with too many details, but the basic problem was this: the router’s set-up software was not recognizing an internet connection, even though there was one. My theory was that it was because Wito’s computer doesn’t have an ethernet port, but instead uses a USB-ethernet adapter. Wito said ICE had an English language help line, but I never got that option. When I got a live person on the line, he did not connect me to anyone who spoke English. Cristina came to the rescue and was my go-between. It took about 30 minutes, but we finally got the wireless router set-up. So now we can use our laptops anywhere in the house and have broadband internet connection. Wito threatened to unplug it all after we left (“I just got it for you guys”) but we told him he better not. When his other children come to visit, they will want a wireless connection too. I set it up to be locked, so he has no reason to disable the set-up. No one can steal his signal.

We headed off. In downtown San Jose, I yelled at a taxi driver. Traffic is really bad downtown, bumper-to-bumper. A taxi abruptly cut in front of me, which was annoying, but par for the course. What got my goat is that he then slowed down. I think he was looking for his next fare or something. A big space formed in front of him, and other cars and motorcycles were rightfully filling the void. So I gunned it and passed him. As he saw me passing him, he sped up, and as I started to pull in front, he blocked me and blew his horn. Side-by-side with our windows down, I shouted at him. I censored myself, since the kids were in the car. I think I said something like “You get in front of me and then you fart around and let everyone get in front!” Not very clever or creative, but I knew he couldn’t understand me anyway, and it was spontaneous. We shook fists at each other and then I sped forward and got in front a couple of cars ahead of him. The blood pressure returned to normal. It was fun.

We were a little late arriving at the theater. The performance started at noon, and we got tot eh theater about 12:02 (though they never start on time). After our lecture by the cop last week, we had an idea where we should park. But Maritza said we could park right by the theater, especially since we were running late. Since she was the local, we deferred to her. We parked at the theater, on the side of the road. The same parking guy was there, and I assumed he remembered us. Maritza told us not to take any slips of paper from him; she would pay him what she thought was fair (and 2000 colones was not fair).

We all piled out and I locked up the car. The man was right beside me, trying to give me the parking slip. I ignored him and followed the family. “Eh! “ he called out. “Eh!” I didn’t look back. Soon we were in the theater.

I didn’t remember who was performing today, but I didn’t care. Whatever it was, I was sure it’d be nice. We got to our seats and were only sitting for about 30 seconds before they warned the lights. That’s good timing.

The performance was a guitarist named Mario Ulloa, playing music of Brazil. He was excellent. He only played for about 35 minutes, but he played beautifully. Maritza thought it was too short, but it felt just right for a short, lunchtime concert. And Bella didn’t have time to get restless. Though she had her own seat, she sat on my lap the whole time.

After the show, we went back to the car. A different parking person was there, a woman, and she immediately hit us up for 2000 colones. Maritza calmly got in the passenger seat while I started up the car. She looked through some coins in her purse. I didn’t understand everything she said to the parking girl, but it was something like “2000 colones is crazy and a rip-off.” She handed her some coins and the lady took it. I think she may have given her 500, but I’m not sure.

The parking lady helped us back out and we drove around to the other side of the Plaza de la Cultura and parked in front of the Taco Bell, near the Burger King that I had taken Alex and Bella. I wouldn’t have parked here, but Maritza said it was fine.

We checked in the gift shop under the plaza for a book on Costa Rican stone spheres, which play an important part in the book I’m writing. I read an article about a Costa Rican archaeologist who has written the definitive history of these mysterious stones. The book is a bit pricy (20,000 colones) but if it was in English as well as Spanish, I decided to get it for my birthday present. Alas, the shop didn’t have any copies. They suggested I contact the author via internet to get a copy.

Next, we walked down the central avenue. We needed some lunch and Maritza suggested either a vegetarian restaurant on 1st Avenue, or a restaurant in a hotel that had a simple menu and good prices. The hotel place sounded like La Gran Via, but when we came in 2006, it was closed down. We chose the hotel and sure enough, it was the same place. It had a different name, but it was the same hotel restaurant that we’d eaten at many times before.

As we were seated, I was even more surprised to recognize one of the waiters from my previous visits. I think he stuck in my memory because one time when we came (maybe in 2001) he had remembered us from 1998. I had been impressed by that then, and I made a mental note of the waiter. I’m sure I wrote about it in previous journals (although, sadly, my 2001 journal was lost forever when my laptop was stolen…if anyone kept an email copy, let me know!). Cristina asked the waiter how many years he’d worked there. I think he said 15 or 16. Then I knew it was him. She told him that I remembered him and he became even friendlier. Nice guy. He asked me what y name was. I gave him my usual: “Wayne…como John Wayne,” because the name Wayne is very strange here. He gestured to himself and said in broken English, “Jorge…George…but not George Bush.” Which just made me like him even more.

The meal was adequate. The food came with a pink drink made with rice and pineapple. The texture was very mealy. Everybody liked it but Bella.

Michael Jackson’s memorial service was on while we ate, so we compulsively watched a bit of that.

I paid the bill, bid my buddy Jorge farewell, and we left.

We passed by a big bookstore, so we popped in to see if they had the book on stone spheres. No luck. Nor did they have the Percy Jackson books (Sofia wanted to get a picture of them in Spanish). But they did have a big Twilight display. Or should I say… Crepúsculo.

Next stop was the Central Market to find a coffee pot for our friend Colleen. We have a metal coffee pot, the porcelain-covered steel kind, blue with white speckles. I used it at the 2nd grade camping trip in June and Colleen said she wanted one, but didn’t want to pay 30 dollars. I told her I could get them cheap in Costa Rica, so today was the day to find one.

We found a vendor that had them, but the lids no longer come attached with a hinge. They had a few different models, so I opted to take a picture and find out what Colleen wanted before buying.

While at the Central Market, Cristina bought a leather wallet/change purse and Sofia bought a small, round leather purse with a turtle on it. Cris got me some chancletas, or flip-flops. Old-school Tico style.

We made our way back towards the car. It started to rain, so we ducked into Pops, an ice cream shop. We couldn’t resist the temptation, so we all got an ice cream (except for Maritza, who declined).

Back in Pavas, we stopped at Plaza Rohrmoser and Cristina picked up a pair of contacts from our optical place. We grabbed a few groceries and then headed home.

We made mini-pizzas for dinner. I let Bella make mine and she asked if she could put lots of toppings on it. I said sure, not paying attention, and the net time I looked, it was buried in peppers and onions. It was riquisima! Gracias, Bella!