Barva Volcano

So there’s this volcano…And I know I keep telling you about all these volcanoes but I really think this is the one. I guess what I mean is I feel like a broken record with the volcano stories but it’s better than the alternative. I promise. I suppose I could regale you with stories of the latest movies I have streamed online, or the people I have seen on the bus, or how a jar of peanut butter is more than $6. So…volcano story it is

*****

Barva Volcano. We read somewhere online that the bus would leave at 6:30 from point X. So at 6:45 or 6:50 on Sunday morning we loaded onto said bus at point -X-3 blocks or so. Accuracy is not a priority here. Fortunately we had Sida (our hilarious roommate from Columbia whose personality more than makes up for whatever she lacks in size.) She made sure we found the illusive bus to begin with and that we got off at the right stop…the right stop being basically on the side of a mountain on a road I didn’t even know a bus could navigate. But there was a sign…and it even had an arrow to tell us that Volcán Barva was up and that way. So we started walking.

I find it a little funny that no one told us a taxi wouldn’t be an option. We knew it was 10 Kilometers from the bus stop to the entrance…we didn’t know it was 10 Kilometers from absolutely nowhere. For the first hour or so we half-heartedly offered our thumbs to the fates, but most cars were headed down the mountain instead of up, and those who were headed up were either too small or too full for 5 girls on a mission. By the second hour we had pretty much accepted the truth that no taxi, no truck and nothing else with tires would be taking our tired feet up this mountain. So step by step we forged forward, and upward and occasionally backward up the road.

                *But really, picture it for a second, five girls walking backward up this road on the side of a volcano…right!? Haha.

At some point the pavement ended and we wound ever upward on rock and dirt and past Dr. Seuss trees and sprawling glimpses of the valley below…I have no idea what all we talked about for those 2 hours headed up. How much our legs hurt? How beautiful it was? What we needed to get at the grocery store? One of the girls, Mary, had gone back to the states for a week and Veronica and I grilled her about the whole experience.  

   Where did you go first?

   What was the first think you ate? How did your stomach feel?

   Did you drive? What was it like?

   What was it like to be surrounded by English?

   Did you go to the grocery store? Was it weird to understand everything effortlessly?

I would rank my curiosity and enthusiasm on par with a kid asking her friend what Disney Land had been like…or an acne-plagued teen grilling his older brother about girls and sex. No detail was too small.

And so the time passed and at about 10 we finally dragged our weary legs up to the ticket window…    
          Prices:  

                Residents- $2

                Non-Residents- $8
I don’t know if they guy booth was feeling extra generous or maybe just lazy and non-confrontational but whatever the case we all only paid our $2 (and believe me…I do not look like a local). We trekked onward.

Aside from hungers pains and a minor dehydration headache, the feeling I remember the most clearly was awe at how relatively close we were to our house and how very much in the jungle we were. Moss covered trees, vines hanging and reaching, green in every direction but down where we danced around the mud from the daily rains. And at last, the lagoon.

Have you ever been on an airplane, flying through a cloud? You’re looking out the window and it’s just hopelessly white. Maybe you sat over the wing but can’t remember because where the wing would be it’s only…white… and thus we approached the water. It could have been an ocean or a big puddle, and anything could have swum, or flown, or walked out of that fog. It was so dense you could actually see the individual particles of moisture swirling about in the slightest breath of a breeze.

We did finally get to see the lake and the wall of trees and green rising up on the other side. But only maybe 60 seconds, then the peep show was over and the cold damp air ushered us away and back on our way back down.

By the time we reached the bus stop again it was 1 and almost raining. We all fell fast asleep on the bus ride home. And at about 2:45 after scarfing down a sandwich in a delirious frenzy and somewhat showering off, I curled up in my bed to rest for real after yet another very successful Sunday Funday.