Bungee Jumps and Good Company: A Weekend in Monteverde

     This past weekend, a group of other students and I went to the tourist town of Monteverde, about a mile up in the rain forests of Costa Rica. This locale is a thrill-seeker's paradise, complete with opportunities to do all sorts of reckless activities. We got into town Friday afternoon and after a chance to drop our bags off at the hostel and grad a quick bit to eat at the neighboring restaurant, I was off to go on a canopy tour.

I believe I can fly!

     "Canopying" is just another term for what is better known as zip-lining. Essentially, I, with the help of a harness attached to a cable, was able to "fly" over the beautiful rain forest. The cables varied in length and slope, so the speed and duration of each varied from a few seconds to about half a minute for the longest, which was about 700 meters or 2100 feet. For one, they readjusted the harness so that the cable was attached to my back and this enabled me to play Superman for a few brief moments. The final activity, called "Tarzan", consisted of stepping off a platform and free-falling 40 meters (120 feet), swinging a few times and then being pulled to a stop. This experience induced that roller coaster-like feeling in my stomach, which was only quelled by the sudden tightness I felt in my crotch region when the operators threw the rope around the cord my harness was attached to in order to slow down my swinging. My voice rose a few octaves for the next 3 hours as a result.

Off I go!

     That free-fall was good practice for what was in store the following morning: BUNGEE! Until a few weeks ago, I had never considered whether or not I would go bungee-jumping if the opportunity arose. It just was not something on my radar. Yet once I was told it was available, I was pretty excited right from the start. And by excited, I think my exact words were, "Why not?" I carried that careless sentiment all the way to the morning of the big event, despite the majority of my companions literally losing sleep and shedding tears over the prospect of jumping 470 feet with no support save a cord around their ankles. To me, the concept was, in a paradoxical way, almost too dangerous for it not to be safe. Nevertheless, I looked forward to the experience, so much so that I volunteered to go first amongst our group. So my friend Colin and I stepped into the motorized cart that took us from sturdy land out to the above middle of gaping valley. Rather than describe what followed, I shall show you!

I expected the jump to feel like a roller coaster, but it surprisingly was much more peaceful. It felt as though I was floating through the air. The tug of the bungee was not strong, but the bouncing a hundred or so feet back up in the air was a bit disorienting, especially since I was upside-down. Overall though, I think everyone who jump said it was a worthwhile experience. For myself, I know taking that dive made me feel so small compared to the grandeur of the world around me. It's so easy to feel important in our day-to-day lives. This was a reminder of just how vulnerable and insignificant each one of us is by ourselves. Sometimes it's good to feel small.


     Bungeeing turned out to not even be the most perilous thing I did that day. Later that afternoon, some of us went canyoning, which was essentially rappelling down a series of waterfalls in a stream. This would have been challenging and fun, except that the rain had caused the water level to be at least twice as high as normal. Thus, it was challenging and dangerous, or, in the broken english of our guide: "I fear your safety right now." Unfortunately for us, he decided to make this declaration after we had already traversed through three of the six waterfalls and, more importantly, plopped down our non-refundable payment. C'est la vie, as they do not say in Costa Rica. Two of my friends went back the next day to finish the trail, and they reported it was much better. I was happy for them, and more happy that I had made it out of there unscathed...except for the nice gash on my left shin, which I received before standing in murky knee-deep water for two hours. Infection hasn't set in (don't worry Mom!!!!), so I think I cheated death once more.

     The trip wasn't all fun and adventure, however. One of the local ATMs decided to freeze up on Friday afternoon with my card in it. I missed getting back to the bank to retrieve my card on Saturday before they closed, leaving me with a choice to make: I could either have them destroy the card and wait for a new one to be delivered, or I could stick around until Monday. Not one to pass up on the chance to skip school and stay on vacation, I chose the latter option. Fortunately, my friend Peter stuck around with me to play the part of trusty companion and financier. After everyone else had left Sunday, he and I engaged in conversation with a lovely young couple from Bristol, England. Married for two years, they had decided to spend the next year traveling the world in lieu of starting a family. We spent two hours discussing topics ranging from the principle of state's rights in the US to the Opening Ceremony for the London Olympics.

     Monday, I was able to successfully retrieve my card. But faster than President Bush could declare, "Mission Accomplished", I was cut down by the mean streets of Monteverde. First, I slipped on an inclined sidewalk on the way to buying (read: having Peter buy) my return bus ticket, rather abruptly falling into what essentially was a sewer, scraping my elbow in the process (I swear Mom, I cleaned the wound with antibacterial something-or-other!). Then, about an hour later, I was crossing the street and stepped up onto the curb, which unbeknownst to me was particularly slick. My footing gave way and I lurched forward, right into a unfortunately placed metal pole supporting a street sign. Fortunately, my hand took on the trauma rather than my beautiful face. Unfortunately, the skin on my palm was cut (uh...hey Mom, do you remember if I got that Tetanus booster?!). And with that, Peter and I ended the trip with a brisk 80 minute hike through the cloud forest and got the heck out of that cursed town that I hope to return to before my time in Costa Rica ends.