An Economy Solely Dependent Upon Turtles?

Let me just state right off the bat that I didn´t travel to Tortuguero on a turtle-spotting mission.  My primary intention here was to enjoy some good food and drink with my Costa Rican host, soak up some sea and sun on the Caribbean coast, and basically kick back in a relaxed setting.

Having said that, I believe that if Marco and I had had one more night to stay, we probably would have spent the money for a guide in the hope of seeing some nocturnal tortoise egg-laying.  The reasons we didn´t choose to sign up for a tour had more to do with our general unease and skepticism in regard to the many unanswered questions we had about tourism in an economy that´s built almost completely around these endangered creatures.

From the moment we landed in Tortuguero town we were politely but persistently pestered by the locals to sign up for the nightly turtle watch.  And though signing up on our first night was a total  nonstarter for us, we were cautiously open to the idea of signing up the next night.

But we felt uncomfortable with some of the "guides" (or their agents) and certain inconsistencies we noticed, such as with the fees they were asking for.  While it seems most foreigners were being charged $15 a head, we found out that some were paying as much as $20.  And while we were prepared to gamble on the possibility of paying our money but not seeing any turtles, we were not willing to shell out money in advance to someone who might possibly not even turn up at the appointed hour.  In other words, we felt we should be wary of scammers and unscrupulous activity since we had no way of knowing who was or wasn´t an "offical" guide.

Given that most of the locals we talked to seemed unwilling or unable to answer our basic questions, I also began to have doubts about the ethics of having dozens of foreign and local tourists pouring into town daily, spending money to see turtles, and quite possibly disturbing these animals in their natural habitat.   So I wanted to know a lot more before signing up.

As is often the case, we learned more from our fellow visitors than we did from the locals.  What follows is a composite picture of the nightly tour, as described to us by visitors and locals:

The beach is divided into zones of a couple hundred yards in length.  Our guesthouse is located in Zone 36 and further south are Zones 37, 38, and so on.  From 6.00 p.m. until 6.00 a.m. the beaches are closed to all but park rangers and other authorized personnel.  Random people on the beach can disturb a landing turtle, which causes that turtle to leave and, so we were told, never come back to that location.  

Tour groups are guided by flashlight along a beachside pathway that runs the entire length of the zones.  At certain points along the path are "spotters" who watch for the giant turtles landing ashore.  When a turtle is spotted in a given zone, the spotter notifies guides in the area by walkie-talkie and/or flashlight signal, and the guides then lead their groups to that location.  If all goes well, the groups in the area are able to witness the laying of eggs and/or the exhausted turtles retreating back to the ocean.  Two tours are offered nightly, one from 8 til 10 and the other from 10 til midnight.

According to one of our informants, a young Israeli man, the whole experience was "very well organized, almost like a military operation."  His group witnessed one turtle laying an egg and two other turtles headed back to sea.

The next morning, official personnel--including volunteers under the supervision of experts--carefully note the locations of the eggs, and presumably steps are then taken to protect the eggs until it comes time for them to hatch.

But Marco, who headed for the beach at sunrise each morning for a swim in the warm sea, told me he saw a couple local women digging on the beach and taking eggs away.  He reported what he witnessed to a couple officials who came through the area later.

Under the circumstances, I felt that I knew far too little in order to make an informed decision about signing on for a tour.   So basically I decided to "punt" until I could know for sure that I wouldn´t be causing harm by participating in this activity.  Although I have nothing against contributing to the local economy and helping to support locals´ livelihoods, I felt uncertain about the guide services since there didn´t seem to be any central organizing agency or principles involved.  One "guide" even told us to avoid another "guide" for his supposed character defects or some other stated, but vague, deficiencies. 

In a nutshell, we thought we had too many doubts on Sunday evening to proceed confidently.  By Monday morning we had more information, but by then we had no choice but to leave for the capital since Marco had to work on Tuesday. 

We decided if we go back to Tortuguero during the hatching season probably we can participate in some capacity, whether as fee-paying tourists or as volunteers.   But before we do so I intend to do some serious "turtle googling" first.

Remote Tortuguero Delights the Visitor

Leaving Marco´s menagerie in the hands of a trusted neighbor or cousin, he and I set out early yesterday for the journey northwest from the capital city to the national park of Tortuguero.

A bus and a taxi took us to the Terminal Caribe where we purchased tickets for a bus to Cariari via Guapiles, about 50 miles from downtown San Jose.  The bus passes through a misty mountainous vista (and one of the longer road tunnels in Costa Rica) as we gradually descend to the lower, flatter ground of the sweeping province of Caribe.

After about two hours we reached Cariari´s bus station with about half a dozen other gringos, mostly Germans, who also wanted to continue the journey.  A somewhat aggressive tout for a tour company accosted us and tried to "sell us up" with more services than many of us wanted.  Marco and I wisely purchased transport tickets only.

After a bumpy microbus ride of about an hour we reached the end of the gravel road--indeed, it was the end of all roads in this part of the country.  Because Tortuguero is accessible by boat or plane only.

Then some confusion ensued at the riverboat landing with the boat drivers--who, according to the Lonely Planet, are regarded here as something akin to royalty--professing ignorance of the fellow who sold us our tickets!  Some frantic negotiations commenced, with much consulting by walkie-talkie and cellphone, before the matter was cleared up in our favor.

Then we proceeded by boat downriver through some of the most beautiful jungle and swamp I´ve ever seen.
Traffic on these tributaries (on my map there are dozens of them feeding the larger rivers) is brisk and frequent, however.  Commerce is happening but the nearest 18 wheeler is 20 miles away.

We arrived in Tortuguero town just after lunch, and a teenager helped us locate a decent beachside guesthouse, the Balcon del Mar, for an okay price and most of the usual amenities.  Lodging prices run the gamut from "budget" to five star, but food prices and the cost of extras like internet are relatively high.  The average meal price for two seems to hover around $20, and this high speed internet shop where I'm now typing costs a whopping $3 an hour compared to 50 cents in San Jose.  Supplies in the supermarket also cost a premium--everything here has to be imported by air or river.

But it´s worth it to be in such a beautiful place with no cars and lots of wild country.  The nearby national park is home to abundant plant and wild life.  And now, at the end of August, it´s the high end of turtle hatching season.  Every night the gigantic tortoises swim ashore and climb their way up the beach to lay their eggs.  Tourists pay $15 a head for a guided peek at these awesome creatures.  The guides are mandatory and this rule is strictly enforced by park rangers who closely monitor these turtle landings and communicate by walkie-talkie with the guides who then lead their charges to nearby nesting areas.

Marco and I took a pass on the guides last night and we´re still agnostic on tonight´s prospects, but check back here again in a couple days.  I gotta run before my internet bill gets too high. . .

Back in Costa Rica at Uncle Marco´s Place

A little more than a year after my first visit to Costa Rica, I´m back with a vengeance--but, alas, only for one week!

Some readers will recall that Costa Rica is the home of an uncle of one of my violin students.  Uncle Marco was born in Costa Rica but raised in the U.S., so his American English is as fluent as his Spanish.

Marco met me at San Jose´s airport yesterday in the midst of a heavy, late afternoon downpour-- a reminder that Central America is still deep in the rainy season.

Rather than take two or more buses to Marco´s home during evening rush hour, we bargained hard with some friendly taxi drivers to bring the asking price from 15,000 or 20,000 colones ($30 or $40) down to a more reasonable $20.  "Okay," our driver said, "make it 10,000 colones but don´t forget a couple dollars tip!"

The 20-some odd mile trip from the airport near Alajuela to Marco´s place in the El Porvenir neighborhood in Desamparados was unfortunately somewhat grueling and lengthy because of the traffic-choked roads, so as it turns out I ended up tipping the driver very well indeed.  After all, he has a difficult job in the best of circumstances, but this guy was highly entertaining-- his English language skills were nearly as good as my fellow passenger´s! How do I describe the odd impression one feels listening to two Costa Ricans conversing idiomatically in English?  If you can imagine it, then you might guess I was fascinated for the entire ride to Marco´s home.

Marco set me up in the "Led Zeppelin room", one of three bedrooms in his house, so called because it´s decorated with tour posters from the ´70s and ´80s of his all-time favorite rock´n´roll band.  Guitarist Jimmy Page and frontman Robert Plant still look good onstage after all these years. . .

Marco shares his house with two dogs (an old bulldog named Buster and a smaller mongrel named Rat) and a versatile singing parrot.   This morning I could´ve sworn the parrot friend was whistling the theme from the Andy Griffith Show--remember that whistling theme song of the show that featured Opie, Aunt Bea and Barney Fife?

And later I could´ve sworn it was whistling something that sounded an awful lot like the 1812 Overature...or was I only¨"hearing" things?   Even if not, Marco´s parrot also speaks English fluently--or at least it speaks fluently the five or six phrases, including profanities, that I heard it utter today.

With only seven days on the ground, my mission here is pretty simple:  get to Tortuguero, a remote national park and turtle refuge on the Caribbean coast, then get back to San Jose by next Thursday at the latest.  Happily, Marco is able to take Monday off from his current job, so he can join me for a three day weekend which hopefully starts with an early bus departure tomorrow morning.

As in Nicaragua, the general feeling here in Costa Rica--at least for this visitor--is one of safety, security, and wider-spread prosperity compared to El Salvador or Honduras.  No, it isn´t a rich country by any means, but it´s not without reason that this tiny nation bordering Nicaragua to the north and Panama to the south is extremely popular with norteamericano tourists and expats alike.  Not only is it reasonably safe, reasonably-priced and packed with beautiful attractions, but this jewel of country also is populated by some of the friendliest people I´ve encountered in the region.  Marco´s easy-going hospitality and amiable demeanor is, fortunately, not an anomaly.