Tamarindo Human Connections

What time should you walk the beach? Early, just after first light. I learned it in my first dry season, when I set out near midday and came back feeling like a bread roll. The sun is gentler in the morning, the sand near the water is firmer under the feet, and I am home before the crowds arrive. In the green season I also like to be finished before the sky changes its mind. Take a bottle of water, and leave the long walk for the cool part of the day.

I lost a sandal in the sand at Playa Grande at about 1pm and was hopping around looking for it when a family under a tree waved me over, handed me a plate and said, sit. I ate fish and rice for an hour while they discussed the weather and my sandal. They never found it. I have been back four times. I have a seat at the table now and a spare pair of sandals in their cupboard. Nobody has mentioned the missing one. We all think about it.

Did anyone find a key on a red foam float on the main beach road, Friday afternoon, near where the shuttles stop? It is the key to an all-terrain vehicle, or ATV. A rental company cannot give the vehicle back to its owner without it, and a replacement is a slow, annoying business for a small operator. The float has a cracked corner and a bit of green tape on the ring. I will check this board again on Sunday.

A troop of howler monkeys crossed the road in Tamarindo at eight in the morning and you got out of your car and stopped traffic with both arms, very official, like a crossing guard. A bus waited. A truck waited. I was in the truck. The last monkey took its time. You waved us on with a small bow. I was twelve minutes late to work and did not mind. If anyone asks, the monkeys were a priority. I would like to say that to you directly.

On a Sunday at 11am I took the local bus from Tamarindo to Santa Cruz, and the only free seat was next to a man. He started a conversation about the price of fish and I agreed with everything. By the end of the ride he had invited me to lunch at his mother's house. I have been going on Sundays for five months. She feeds me twice as much as I can eat and tells me it is not enough. The price of fish has not changed. It is still the first thing we discuss.

It was turtle nesting season at Playa Grande, around 10pm, and I forgot the red light rule and walked in with my phone lit. A volunteer quietly handed me a red torch and said, this one is better. She did not tell me off. We walked in the dark and she explained everything in a low voice, and then she held her arm out and I saw a turtle lay eggs, about ninety, in the sand, one at a time. The red torch is in my drawer. I take it out sometimes. I do not turn it on.

A current pulled me out at Playa Langosta on a Tuesday afternoon and I was too tired to shout. A surfer paddled over, put me on his board and walked me back to the sand, ten minutes in total. He said it happens to everyone, you only have to stop fighting it. I came back in the morning with a coconut. He said, keep it, you earned it. I am a stronger swimmer now. I am also a more relaxed one, which is the part he taught me.

You were cycling down the main road in Tamarindo at 8am with a guitar strapped to your back and a very slow dog trotting beside you, and I was in a taxi stuck in the usual traffic, watching you overtake everyone. At the jam near the roundabout you looked in my window, grinned, and held up the guitar like a trophy. The dog sat down. I was late. It was the best traffic jam I have ever had. I have looked for the dog. I have not looked for you.