2016

In my previous blog post, I detailed a bone rattling encounter with an enormous, crocodilian iguana in Costa Rica. I concluded by warning the reader that if you fear grotesque reptiles, Costa Rica is not the place for you. However, as one of my classmates pointed out in the comment section, I did indeed return to the rainforested Central American country. Again, this was not a normal family vacation. It was entirely school related. Uni High’s Spanish language class’ biennial excursion to different Spanish speaking countries took us to Nicaragua and Costa Rica that year. It required copious amounts of willpower to venture back, but, like the first trip, was an incredible experience. This time, there was much more than the tropical fruits and warmth and such. Through hours of driving, hiking, and even zip lining, Costa Rica’s magnificence was further exemplified. And best of all, I came across no scary lizards! All this being said, the humorous pessimist I try so hard to be is obligated to recall a harrowing interaction at a chocolate museum.

When our tour guide announced that we would be visiting a chocolate museum, I was ecstatic, as chocolate is very good when it comes to taste. The museum offered the opportunity to make your own chocolate, from roasting the cacao beans to customizing your chocolate bar with nuts. Before we started I thought there was nothing that would make this a bad experience in the slightest. I was very wrong. This disturbing entity came in the form of the chocolate museum guide. I’m going to interrupt my current prose, because I cannot explain the levels of cringe that this man exuded without speaking normally. Most guides have to be overly friendly. Some might really try to be your friend. But when you have one that is overly friendly, tries to be your friend, and thinks he’s a comedian, then you know it’s going to be a bad time. This was our guide. I had to suffer through over an hour of straight corn. When we were mixing our hot chocolate, he made us all yell “Báte, Báte Chocolate!” like an episode of Dora. Unless you were a suburban white family, who would probably think this made them cultured,  this was a rather torturous experience. This wasn’t even the worst part for me! My memory of this next incident is foggy, most likely due to repression. He or someone else was talking about milk, then out of nowhere he looks at me and says I look like a need to drink more milk! Like I was some sort of malnourished child! I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to insult me to that degree! This corny man had thoroughly humiliated me! And the chocolate was kind of nasty too…

After writing this I realized that this was in Nicaragua, not Costa Rica.

The moral of the story is don’t go to Nicaragua if you don’t like corny chocolate museum guides.

2006

At the tender age of 6, still a little, bouncy boy, my family and I traversed to a land known as Costa Rica. The intention of said trip was not for leisure exclusively, instead, a much more momentous occasion: my aunt and uncle-in-law were hosting a gathering to witness their joining in matrimony, or a wedding. Needless to say, the trip was an incredible experience. Costa Rica is truly a magnificent country, with its tropical fruits and warmth and such. I recall frolicking down the beach with the company of my cousins. There were so many pleasant memories regarding this long distance outing. However, I had an encounter that rattles my bones to this day!

Everyone was eating breakfast but my hunger became satisfied rather quickly due to my small body. I asked to be excused, most likely to retrieve my beach frolicking slippers, and ventured to our room. As I sauntered towards my destination, I came across a walkway surrounded by tall trees and beautiful herbage. My curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to take that path instead. It only took a few steps for me to realize I had just made a grave mistake.

I came across a reptilian creature that forced me to stop dead in my tracks. An iguana! Not just any iguana! This one was very large, like a teenaged crocodile! Up until that point, I had no inkling that a fear of hideous reptiles affected me, but as soon as I peered into its beady eyes, I knew. Tears began to formulate in my eyes and steadily stream down my face. At this point, some might wonder why I didn’t just turn around. Well, I was quite literally frozen in place. This scaled monster had petrified me! I stood there crying like a babe for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, my brave grandfather found me and had to carry me away. With each step away from the iguana, I became increasingly at peace.

The moral of the story is don’t go to Costa Rica if you don’t like reptiles, because I’m pretty sure there was a poisonous snake on the roof of one of the restaurants too.