ira koplowitz

i hardly saw mexico city. i only spent a couple days traversing its chaotic streets, scoping out its graffiti and mural art, eating in tiny stalls on street corners, and getting lost on the subway. but i did cram in some interesting stuff while i was there.

i saw the western hemisphere’s most important anthropology museum. it was fitting after six months of traveling around latin america. there were displays about ruins i saw too and the cultures that once inhabited those lost cities. i saw the tomb and remains of pacal, a ruler of the great mayan city of palenque. only a week prior i traversed the side of the pyramid under which he was buried.

i tried to see the infamous lucha libre in person, but i went on the wrong night and wasn’t able to get a glimpse of the famed mexican wrestling extravaganza. oh well… another time.

i spent an afternoon at a special frida kahlo exhibit at the cultural center. it was a massive exhibit with an impressive amount of her paintings, as well as postcards and letters and family photographs. it was fitting that the cultural center had murals painted by famous mexican artists, including diego rivera, adorning its large inside walls.

a change of plans

i was stoked on puerto escondido. i heard a ton about it. and i love the restaurant in okc with the same name! but by chance i i settled on a smaller town sixty kilometers from escondido, mazunte.

a couple of days before i set out for the beach i met chelsea, an american traveling around central america by bicycle, who was also interested in getting to the coast, so we took an overnight bus from oaxaca to mazunte. she stored her bike under the bus. we made the right decision. mazunte is perfect. super chilled out. somewhat developed, but only in an indigenous way. thatched roof huts and restaurants line pieces of the beach, but the the bigger buildings are up a dirt path on the only road in the town, set back from the beach.

the middle of the beach is rough as all get out. massive waves dump straight into the bank, making in near impossible to swim. on either side of the bay rocks protect the beach from catastrophic waves and make it nice for swimming and relaxing in the water. the bay is lined with palm trees, cactus, and rocky hills.

don’t fuck with the beast

on my second afternoon i was feeling a bit spicy. i swam out towards the pounding waves in the middle of the bay. i waited until a wave broke into foam and bubbles and swam out past the break, pumping out the freestyle stroke. the scene was intense behind the break. i watched the waves gathering steam at sea and when they’d roll past me just before dumping i’d float up ten feet with ease. but the current was pulling me out to sea. after a few minutes, treading water and fighting the current was tiring so i followed a wave into the break and once it slammed i swam my ass off. but it wasn’t enough. the rip current made it nearly impossible to swim back towards the beach. i realized i wasn’t gonna make it to land just as another wave was set to dump. i turned towards it, the current pulling me into its jaws. i dove under the wave as it broke on top of me and came up on the other side. the force of the wave was incredible and it almost toppled me under the water. immediately, i turned back towards land and swam vigorously. i didn’t want to face another wave. but to no avail. i only swam a few feet even though i was pumping out stroke after stroke. my neck strained as i looked up at the beast transfixed on gobbling me up. the wave was three times my height when i dove with all my force. underwater the wave immediately flipped me 180 into its current. i tumbled along under water, rolling head over heels just hoping to not snap my neck on the sand below. there was nothing to do but wait. after what seemed like a 56k download the wave spit me out on the sand near the beaches edge, more than fifteen feet from where i tried to evade the beast with just a dive. i took in water through the nose and was completely out of breath, but i jumped to my feet with vigor and got out of the water panting. i was somewhat shaky in the water for the rest of the day and didn’t dare swim in the center of the bay again. i had learned my lesson: don’t fuck with the beast.

i love mexican food

the food is quite reasonably priced given the location. for under six bucks i got a fresh atun fillet with rice, black beans, an avocado, tomato, and onion salad, as well as fresh tortillas. and all this at a restaurant on the water. nice. standard mexican fare here is nice as well. what we call enchiladas in the states are only one version of the enchilada. en-chilada is a way of saying in chili and the traditional enchilada is a thinly sliced steak covered in a dry chili rub and sauteed. enchilada is usually served with a salad, beans, and fresh tortillas, the perfect meal. its been more than a week and i’m not even close to getting sick of mexican food. you can find pizza, pasta, and the standard south american fare here, but i can’t tear myself from the mexican… so tasty.

view a photo gallery from mazunte here.

the city life

i’ve spent a bit of time on beaches of recent but once i arrived in oaxaca i realized just how much i was missing cultured cities. and oaxaca has it all. art. music. a revolutionary spirit. and a love for the culinary arts. mix all of that with beautiful churches, preserved architecture, creative graffiti and stensiling, and a vibrant café culture and i’ve found a city i love.

iglesia santa domingo was the first thing i saw on the way into the city center. its façade is a marvel to see and in well preserved condition. by chance i decided it was worth seeing the inside. sometimes i’ll skip the inside of churches because i’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds. but the massive wooden doors were open. i was blown away inside. i hadn’t seen a church that decadent anywhere in latin america. this church rivaled the most opulent and beautiful of churches in europe, which is saying something. almost every wall and the entire ceiling were covered in intricate carvings, beautiful paintings, and gold leaf.

the second time i walked to the cities center plaza it hit me. there are tons of people here. usually commerce and communication takes place in markets, but the two adjoining parks in oaxaca seem to be always jammed with people. it’s a hotbed for revolutionary posters, book sellers, ice cream and rasado vendors, political parties, people selling dvds, and hundreds of locals just relaxing among the maze of tents, park benches, and chaos around them.

nightlife

the nightlife is big in oaxaca. on a wednesday night i went with a group of people from the hostel to a bar after dinner. the place was small, packed, and the music and ambiance were hip. unluckily the bar closed after we had just settled in. but one of the owners, a young always smiling mexican dude with long hair, asked us if we wanted to hang back with them and talk about green. after a j the guys cleaning the place were finished and we all headed to a nightclub they promised would be full. and it was. the two-story building was chalk full of young people dancing and drinking. i couldn’t believe it was a wednesday.

scuba diving in the bay islands

i was set on getting scuba certified, then decided against it, then came to utila, one island in the bay islands on the caribbean coast of honduras. utila is world renown as a diver’s mecca and is one of the cheapest places to learn scuba in the western hemisphere.

i settled on a school based on recommendations of other travelers, alton’s dive shop. i got a bit of late start because i was too hung over after my birthday to get started with the course the following morning. in the afternoon i watched a couple of videos, read through chapters one and two of the manual and went over a few excercises with my instructor and took two quizzes.

that night i watched another video and read a bit more. alton’s provides dorm accomodation on-site for divers and early the next morning i moved all my things to the compound. for the next hour i went over the videos and chapters with the instructor and took another quiz.

the next step was equipment set-up. basically chris (my instructor) walked us through all the steps of set-up and then i got fitted with the usual gear… fins, a wet-suit, a mask and snorkel, a tank, a BCD (a vest that holds your tank on, acts as a flotation device and helps you maintain buoyancy in the water), and a regulator (a four tubed device with two mouth pieces, gauges, and connections for the BCD).

i suited up, put the gear on, and jumped off the dock at the compound into the water. at first it felt somewhat strange to breathe underwater. its not just that you’re breathing underwater. it’s the air you’re receiving. the air is very pointed and frisky. and it took some getting used to not breathing with my nose. for the most part the first dive was full of instruction. chris would perform a task and then i’d repeat it. like he’d simulate losing his regulator (air source) and show me the proper methods to find it. then i would do the same. and so on and so on. the water was quite murky. the dive could hardly be considered a dive given the formalities, but it was still quite exciting to be in the water with all the gear on.

after lunch i was caught up with the other two students in my class, who were watching videos and reading while chris and i were in the water, and we geared up on the boat with another class and a couple of fun divers. the ride was beautiful. the water, once away from shore, is absolutely clear and all different shades of blue and green, depending on depth. the shoreline is fringed with palm trees and other veg. once at the dive site i suited up, and clumsily walked to the back of the boat. i jumped off into the blue waters of the caribbean, my heart afloat with excitement.

during the first ten minutes of our first open water dive we performed some more skills and worked on rescue stuff. then chris pointed us to follow him. one of the coolest things about scuba diving is the balance you find underwater. it can be somewhat tricky, but with the BCD and your breathing patterns you become neutrally buoyant, which basically means that you’re not sinking or rising. i kicked off once buoyant and followed chris. it’s a completely different feeling than swimming underwater with the scuba gear. you almost feel weightless and distances are very disoriented. chris swam on ahead taking us from the sandy bottom to a reef. just over the first reef we noticed a set of strange looking creatures in a perfect line. chris later told me they were squid. they were only as big as my hand, but they had the craziest shape and color. we watched them for a few minutes and then we dropped our depth a few meters as the slope rolled down until we were swimming around thirty-five feet underwater. i was seeing fish i had never seen every which way i turned. it was fascinating.

the first time i turned my head up towards the surface my heart jumped. we were pretty far underwater. farther underwater than i’ve ever been. it hit me … i’ve been a scuba student less than twenty-four hours and hear i am more than thirty-five feet under sea level in the caribbean. i smiled so big i took a wee bit of water into the regulator. we swam along a 20 foot reef wall that was utterly packed with little intricate plant life and fishies for the rest of the first dive.

on the second dive we again started with some underwater skills. but we had more time for exploring and once again i was floored by the amount of fish i had never seen. twenty minutes into dive two chris hurriedly pointed towards the open waters away from a reef we were exploring. i couldn’t see a thing, but all of a sudden a sea turtle comes from the dark blue swimming towards us. its shell must have been more than two feet in diameter. the turtle leisurely swam past us without giving us much of a glance. i was so excited to have seen an adult sea turtle in the water i screamed into my regulator and bubbles darted out and towards the surface. at that moment i realized just how fun this whole scuba thing could be. the rest of the dive was interesting, but the image of that turtle swimming by stuck in my mind. it was so graceful and beautiful.

not a bad first day of scuba diving i’d say…

copán ruinas is a small town in the extreme western area of honduras, near the border with guatemala. copán ruinas mainly exists for one reason, to host people visiting the mayan city of copán. the town itself is quite nice, with cobblestone streets, a chilled out vibe, and good restaurants. but the real jewel in the area are the ruins.

less than a mile from town and accesible by a footpath or by bus copán is a sprawling ancient city set to the backdrop of a thick jungle. in its heyday copán was a very important settlement for the mayan’s, blossoming in the classic era from the fifth to the ninth century. copán is famous for its ballfield, which was found in good condition. the mayan’s played a game using a ball moved with elbows and knees. a version of the game is still played today in certain regions where indigenous persons still live. but today they don’t end the game in the same way… with the sacrifice of one or more players.

copán is as impressive as any ruin site i’ve ever seen. there are a number of large well preserved pyramids at copán and heaps of carvings, both on edifices and stand-alone sculptures. the surrounding jungle, massive trees on the site, and the perfectly green grass all make the site feel very mythical.

i saw the ruins with three french girls i met in managua the morning before and who i luckily ran into again in a town thirty miles away of copán ruinas after the buses stopped running. we hired a taxi into town and found a guesthouse. we spoke only in spanish, which was great, until we go to the ruins and their informative book was only in french. oh well. i just wikipediaded it afterwards!

click here to visit a gallery of photos from copan, as well as from two other ancient sites.

managua is a city of extreme contrasts, with its uber-modern metrocenter shopping mall and its street markets smelling of fish and burning rubber. kristin and i only had a day and a half in managua so we figured we’d try and make the most of it. after breakfast in martha quezada, the neighborhood we stayed in, we waited for the bus to the old town but got impatient and started walking. twenty minutes into the walk and nearly halfway i noticed people staring at us in disbelief. one building after the next. finally a man working on an engine laid on the ground in a shop hollared at us as we passed. at first i ignored him, but it became apparent very quickly that he was talking to us.
“donde van” he asked.
“al centro” i said, “por ahi,” pointing straight ahead.
“no pueden caminar ahi” the man told us, shaking his head and pointing down the street.
he mumbled a few other things i didn’t understand and realizing i wasn’t following him he said, “pistolas, robaron, muy peligroso.”
“si” i said meekly, wondering what was down there. kristin and i hailed a taxi on the street and through its protective glass we saw the working class neighborhood turn into a ghetto very quickly. the taxi sped along and i noticed a shantytown in what was once a park. the taxi stopped at an intersection and i saw rows and rows of tarp covered makeshift edifices serving as houses for hundreds if not thousands of people. the taxi dropped us off in the old town and i was beginning to realize just how poor managua really was.

the stark contrast in the old towns (usually the nicest area of a city) unused concrete lots filled with garbage and overgrowth next to some of the cities most important buildings. but nicaragua, the second poorest country in the western hemisphere only to haiti, in contrast to its economic standing has a large national theatre named after ruben dario, the most famous poet of his generation and native nican, draws ballets, musicals, and international acts as well. for a buck kristin and i were given a guided tour of the facilities.

in the afternoon we visited the national museum, situated near the theatre and the uninhabited, crumbling cathedral supported by steel beams. for only thirty eight cordobas (just over two bucks) we were once again given a guided tour, this time in english, which was nice. the museum had quite an amazing collection of paleontology exhibits, antiquan pottery, modern ceramics, a history of certain food staples in nicaragua such as corn, modern art, religious artifacts, and a special photography exhibit shot by homeless street kids with makeshift cameras made from coffee cans and duct tape… quite incredible. our guide was very informative and passionate, albeit academic.

when we caught our late afternoon bus to masaya we left managua with a very different perspective than when we arrived. a good number of travelers skip over managua completely, opting for the more traveler friendly locations of ometepe and granada, but i think the capital is worth at least a day’s visit. if only to see the shanty towns and the modern musuems, the socialist statue of a worker holding an assault rifle and the park nearby with bent and rusted ak-47s jutting up from concrete as a show of peace.

at the top of my list

masaya was my favorite city in nicaragua. there isn’t the backpacker culture of granada or the churches of leon, but masaya felt more like home than either of these other nicaraguan cities.

i arrived in masaya in the afternoon and immediately after getting off the camioneta made a stop for ceviche and a pineapple smoothie. both were perfect. the ceviche was fresh and had the perfect amount of citrus. the bastido was fresh, sweet, and thick. the perfect start.

community of artists

masaya has the highest concentration of artists in nicaragua. two large markets sell just about any type of craft imaginable and most have good prices. i bought a few gifts for people and a wallet for myself, replacing the one taken from me at knifepoint in bogotá. an enjoyable afternoon can be wasted away strolling through the markets. and god knows i’m not a shopper.

masayan’s know how to get down too. the city hosts a weekly festival on thursday nights. a permanent stage in one of the markets hosts live music and a handful of the dozen or so folk dance groups out of masaya. the food and beers were cheap and the dancing was great. in one number a group of women performed an entire dance while balancing baskets on their heads and during breaks a modern salsa band performed to the delight of those dancing.

with every kilometer i travel towards mexico the more mexican food i see. and i’m getting very excited. twice i ate at a mexican restaurant in masaya. yummy enchiladas and burritos.

lazily passing time in a hurried way

time passed fairly lazily in leon. and it wasn’t that i didn’t see anything. on the contrary, i saw a ton. leon has nearly a dozen churches from the colonial period, including one of the most impressive cathedral facades in latin america.

sadly, the inside was mostly white and boring. i visited nearly all of the smaller churches as well.

leon also has a vibrant market with covered stalls and pushy saleswomen who kept grabbing me by the arm and asking, “que buscas?” (what are you looking for?) the market was full of bootleg clothing, movies, and toys, as well as prepared food, spices, and other household items.

leon is also the birthplace of the great latin american poet ruben dario, whose house i explored. i also walked through the cultural center and went to a museum in an abandoned jail that catalogued torture and oppression throughout the history of leon. and yet i felt lazy in leon. maybe it was the rain that inevitably poured every night. but i’m just not sure why.

volcano sledding

one of the most righteous, albeit silly things i did in leon was volcano sledding with the hostel (Big Foot Hostel). nicaragua is full of volcanoes. in fact, it exists because of earthquakes and volcanoes. the bridge between south and north america was forged when an earthquake pushed what is now known as nicaragua up from the sea. and to this day the land is still volatile and prone to natural disaster. the active volcano we climbed last erupted eight years ago, one year past its seven year cycle.

i got a little nervous when we were informed about this. my fears were only heightened as we walked up the black rubble and steam protruded from under rocks and sulfur seeped up from the strangest spots.

once at the volcanoes peak, the steam and sulfur were somewhat unbearable near the crater. “there’s too much sulfur for us to run down into the crater” our guide cheerfully told us.

then she gave us instructions on sledding the volcano and we all suited up in our jailhouse orange jumpsuits. clouds came in as we were set to start, covering the mountain in mist, the visibility was terrible. we waited and waited for a break in the weather and once it did the thirteen of us sled down that volcano two by two.

i was the last to go and the only person on a solo ride. at first i was speeding along, black pebbles flying over my head, wind pushing my face back. then i started to get hit in the face with those damn pebbles. my eyes started watering and i lost all vision from the debris lodged in my eyes. i stopped the sled, cleaned my eyes out as best i could, and put on the protective goggles i last saw on this old house. once again i was steaming down the volcano. near the bottom i noticed a bump ahead of me. uh oh. with no clear way of steering i braced for the impact and boom, i was knocked off the sled and i tumbled ten feet before finding my equilibrium. i couldn’t hear it on the volcano but everyone at the bottom saw the bump and their was a collective “oooohhh!!” when i was tossed from the sled. but i didn’t feel bad. everyone falls off at least once. for a few days i was having neck pains and headaches, which i think stemmed from a neck strain from that bump. when they first started the tour they allowed people to snowboard the volcano, but they were having too many injuries. i didn’t sign a waiver, nothing. its amazing they haven’t been sued. regardless, it was a perfect day finished with live music and more rain.

an introduction

santa teresa, a town on the nicoya peninsula, is on the northern pacific coast in costa rica. its remote in that it can be very tricky to get to. from san jose you have to cross to the peninsula on a ferry before the last stretch of extremely bumpy dirt roads. the village is quite beautiful once your equilibrium is back after the throttling ride and you can appreciate the untouched beachfront and small village feel. tourism is a booming industry, but santa teresa still feels like a real place.

no more than six years ago, santa teresa was an unknown farming village. none of its inhabitants spoke english, there were no two-language menus in the restaurants, there weren’t quad bikes available for rent, and there was no israeli restaurant with kebabs and hummus. as one local put it to me, “we picked beans, that’s about it.” but things are changing in santa teresa. the local kids that used to wait for sea turtles to hobble back into the ocean before pouncing on them to get a ride and a quick thrill now are young adults working with preservation societies to protect the turtles from the threat tourism brings.

tranquilo backpacker’s

i left the san jose tranquilo only to end up at the sister hostel in santa teresa later in the day. the hostel is situated on the main road near the end of town and only a five minute walk from the beach. its quite an amazing place. its two floors are open-faced like a motel and hammocks stretch along the entirety of the building on both floors. they have a nice kitchen, although its open-air and infested with bugs. the whole complex is green and lush. if it weren’t for the pool table, tv with a dvd player, and wireless internet it might feel like another time entirely.

costa rica in general is notorious for the hoards of american tourists. and santa teresa is no exception. there were more american students, surfers, and backpackers in tranquilo than in any other country i’ve visited, let alone hostel or city. it was a bit strange at first, hearing the accent, seeing the beer pyramids go up at night, and listening to the stories. i met some cool peeps and my jokes didn’t always go in vain. for instance, after a bonfire on the beach and a handful of beers i called out to my boys, “who’s up for some t-bell?”

there was only one problem with tranquilo. at eleven at night a security guard took over watch duties and everyone in the hostel got booted. literally kicked out. go to your room or leave. it was quite frustrating and something i would have liked to talk to the owner about. of course this wasn’t mentioned on the flyers or during check-in.

the surfer backpacker

it wasn’t until central america that i ran into any surfer backpackers. in panama i encountered a few in santa catalina, and in uvita the same. but santa teresa is chalk full of them. they are an interesting bunch. for the most part, they are very good people. the majority of surfer backpackers are adventurers in the same way backpackers are, they are just looking for the waves. but there’s a contingency of surfers that are ridiculously full of themselves. their shit is always more important. they’re never interested in your travels unless its to judge. they put themselves on this funny pedestal as if surfing is the only ‘cool’ thing in the world. that said, let me reiterate that for the most part i hung out with surfers that were very interesting and down to earth.

a beach bonfire

i arrived in santa teresa on a thursday. on friday there were whispers of a hostel-wide bonfire, but it was friday. bonfires aren’t for the weekend. saturday was the same, just little whispers, mainly instigated by myself, another american guy, and a dutchie. but sunday was the perfect day. the sun was out, the weather was nice, and the atmosphere in the hostel was a bit more chilled out. a few people got super motivated and built a massive bonfire in the evening. once everyone was kicked out the bonfire really got cracking. the crashing waves, the guitar, and the crackles from the fire provided good vibes.

i asked a group of people if they had any crazy stories from their trip and a loudmouth american guy told a story about him climbing a tree on a cliff in another village. it wasn’t until he was far up the massive tree that he noticed the wasp nest he had kicked. agitated by his presence the wasp’s began to attack him. he was having trouble getting down the tree and was getting lightheaded when he noticed a family on the beach below the cliff. in desperation he yelled out to them “yo soy enfermo. bzz ahhh! bzzz ahhh!” i lost it with laughter at this point. yo soy enfermo in spanish means i’m sick. but in spanish they have two forms of i am. one for things temporal, which would have been correct in this instance – yo estoy enfermo. the other – yo soy enfermo – for things constant. basically, he was yelling “i’m crazy. bzzz, ahh!” but human experience transcends language, and the father of the family understood what was happening. he ran up the hill to the tree and assisted the guy down, who was now covered in massive red welts. quite the story and ironically funny even if he didn’t intend it to be!

after the bonfire i was thoroughly hungry. myself and a few buddies raided the kitchen. but there just wasn’t much to eat. one of the guys met kristin at the bonfire. she offered bread, peanut butter, and bananas. we were all grateful. a german girl with a wide smile came into the kitchen as we were finishing making the sandwiches. she told mike that one of the beds in her dorm was open so if he wanted to get some sleep before the early bus he could crash there. without even a hint of irony mike smiled and said to her, “awesome. yeah, i’ll feel around for the empty bed.” “okay” she said smiling as she walked back to her room. i busted out with another bellowing laugh, attracting the security guard who told us to keep it down. it wasn’t until i repeated his comment that everyone saw the hilarity. the security guard again tried to shoo us.

a change of plans

for weeks i had been asking people about nicaragua. i was pretty much getting the same responses from everyone. go to isla ometepe, leon, and granada. a few people told me about san juan del sur and a few others about the corn islands on the caribbean side. all of these places are in a very small area of nicaragua and i couldn’t help but wondering about the rest of the country.

i sat down with kristin the next evening who was quietly reading at a table. i filled her in on what others had told me and that i was interested in seeing some other areas of the country. she offered me her guidebook and i thumbed through it. i kept talking out loud, which i do at times when i’m contemplating a new plan. she patiently listened, offering questions and comments throughout. after thirty minutes i had constructed an entirely new plan for nicaragua. skip over isla ometepe and granada and go directly to leon. then come back to those places before taking a boat to the corn islands and heading north up the caribbean. my dinner was ready in the kitchen and when I left the table i looked at kristin and said, “five in the morning. tomorrow. nicaragua. think about it!” i basically forgot i even said it because i figured there was no way she was actually going to come. but later that evening as i was walking from the kitchen to my room she caught me on the way, smiling, and asked shyly “can i go to nicaragua with you?” “seriously, you want to go!” “yeah, of course!” she said. “fucking-a, that’s awesome. are you packed?”

the casado:

the most common meal in costa rica is the casado. it can be prepared any number of ways, though its base remains the same. black beans, white rice, a fried plantain, and some type of meat – be it chicken, steak, or pork. in addition the plate is often served with a salad, an avocado, french fries, or vegetables. sometimes a combination of all these.

i always look forward to lunchtime. the casado has become a daily staple. and i douse the rice with a costa rican brown sauce that has a strange, yet familiar taste. its good with anything, most especially the casado, which is best served with a bastido of fresh fruit, pina, mango, or maracuya.

why the hate:

lots of travelers spend one day in san jose, denouncing it as unsafe and boring, yet not getting out into the city at all but to catch their bus to the coast or to a volcano. during the four nights i spent in san jose the hostel felt more like an itinerant halfway house than a hostel. but san jose is not an entirely boring city. it has an interesting contemporary art museum and is a great place to shop. san pedro, a outlying barrio, is home to universities and a bustling nightlife. food in san jose is cheap and filling and there are a number of thrift stores for those who like picking, and hundreds of places to keep any shopper busy for an afternoon.

granted, san jose is no rio. in fact its no buenos aires or montevideo either, but it surely isn’t the worst city in the world. its worth a few days look.

taco bell anyone:

the variety of fast food restaurants in san jose is astounding, bordering on the amount of american fast food in london. just in the city center you can find all the biggies, mcdonald’s, burger king, wendy’s, kfc, and pizza hut. but san jose, unlike any city in europe or latin america i’ve visited minus guatemala city, has taco bell, and quite a few of them. on top of that, in san jose you can find papa john’s and church’s chicken.

i was very excited to see a taco bell in the city center the day of my arrival. i got giddy like i was ten years old again and my pops was taking me out to taco bell on a sticky, summer, saturday afternoon. sadly they didn’t have steak, but that corporate flavor i’ve come to know and love was still divine.