Rima de Vallbona is also the author of “Mystery Stone.” On a tourist trip in Guanacaste, Berta spends the night at the home of her two cousins. When she arrives at their home,
I entered into a magic world, in which a certain something lingered in the air; the enchantment was enhanced by the vases of huelenoches that sat on the chest of drawers, the chirping of the cicadas, the whisper of the leaves fluttering in the breeze, and the excited trill of the birds.
During her stay, Berta is further enchanted by the captivating lithic spheres. Some of these were seen on the tourist bus through the region, but her cousin Matilde is in possession of one that she uses to teach indigenous art to high school students. These spheres will play more of a role in Berta’s stay than either she or her cousins could have imagined.
This review of Rima de Vallbona’s story marks the last in the series of blog posts about Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. When planning your next visit to the Harmony Hotel, consider some reading by one of the authors featured here!
Photo Credit: Avital Ellenberg / CC0 Public Domain
Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
Rima de Vallbona has written twelve books of short stories, novels, and essays. These include Mundo, demonio, y mujer, Polvo del camino, Noche en vela, and Cosecha de pescadores. Among her several literary awards is Costa Rica’s Premio Nacional Aquileo J. Echeverría.
She is the author of “The Chumico Tree,” a story that shows the division between the rich and the poor. The children who can’t afford marbles wait for the fruit of the chumico tree to be ready to pick; these dark, round seeds are the perfect substitute for marbles. Anita, a young girl with shiny shoes and new clothes wants nothing more than to play with the other children, but because her family is wealthy, the barefoot children are unwilling to share the chumico seeds with her. Anita wishes for the penny tree she has planted to grow so that she can distribute pennies amongst the children to win their approval and friendship.
Photo Credit: Paolo Neo / Public Domain Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
Does this childhood dream ever go away? For many of us, apparently not. A Colorado couple made their dream a reality in the Costa Rican rainforest by creating a treehouse community called Finca Bellavista, a fantastic yet real treetop paradise where people can live out their dreams. The whole of the property is now close to 600 acres, encompassing an entire peninsula of rainforest mountain, frontage on two whitewater rivers, countless big trees, and lots of cool critters like frogs, birds and monkeys. A handful of dedicated employees, owners and friends have all contributed their time, energy, and creativity in to make ‘the finca’ what it is today.
José León Sánchez, in a plan to reclaim the Virgin’s riches for indigenous people, attempted robbery of the Basilica de los Angeles in Cartago. At age nineteen, when he entered prison for his crime, Sánchez was illiterate, but he went on to write fourteen books. Among these are Tenochtitlán, La isla de los hombres solos, and La cattleya negra. His story “The Girl Who Came from the Moon” was originally published in La cattleya negra.
“The Girl Who Came from the Moon” is the story of a young girl with pale skin who struggles with the transition between being a girl, one who can cry and eat dirt, and a woman, one who must not cry and who is laden with responsibilities such as caring for the younger children, cooking, and washing the clothes. Built with character because of her mother’s tale that she came from the moon and from a rattlesnake bite she received as an eight-year-old, the girl who came from the moon considers herself woman enough to make a decision that will change the course of her life.
Photo Credit: Musthaq Nazeer / CC0 Public Domain Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
Carlos Salazar Herrera has a second story published in Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. “The Carbonero,” originally published in De amor, celos, y muerte: tres cuentos is translated by James Hoggard, who also translated “The Bongo.” Hoggard is the author of eight books and seven produced plays, and his translations have been widely published.
“The Carbonero” takes place in a cold, foggy forest, where Ibo, the carbonero, lives with his wife, Lila. Lila feels confined by the place where the couple lives and the constant hauling of charcoal on the backs of mules in order to make a living:
Thus oppressed by the constant waves of fog, they lived with despair and with boredom. Sunk in a cold jungle covered with moss and orchids of absurd colors and forms. Tormented by a gale whose moaning sounded like the flute of the god Pan.
To make her life more fun and interesting, Lila takes actions of which her husband disapproves, but Ibo’s reaction is unexpected.
Photo Credit: Paul Alexander / CC BY-ND 2.0 Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
The Garden State never looked so cool. From The Intertia:
Winter in New Jersey is always cold. This winter, however, we’ve seen things that we will never forget. The ocean itself has dropped down to 29° F, freezing its water, and the air has been below 0° F for those early morning surfs. With temperatures like this it’s hard to cope, but if you take a step back, breathe and look at things from a broader perspective, you’ll find some moments that you’re glad you didn’t let pass. Join Ben Graeff and Rob Kelly as they explore an unprecedented New Jersey arctic tundra and score some mental surf during there Sub Zero Winter. This is Jersey!
Filmed by Jess Schmidt, Turner Graeff, Jay Rut, Jim Gray, Robbie Beach & Brian Coulter
Carlos Salazar Herrera is the author of two stories in Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. He was an art professor at the Unversidad de Costa Rica; the author of many stories, poems, and plays; and the 1964 winner of Costa Rica’s Premio Nacional de Cultura Magón.
Originally published as “El Bongo” in Cuentos de angustias y paisajes, “The Bongo” is the story of “the bongo man” who spends time on a small sailboat made from a single piece of the trunk of a cashew tree. Made for calm waters, the bongo
cannot lose sight of land because, despite everything it is still a tree. The colors of the setting sun paint the sails fore and aft; and at night, mast and spanker boom, gaff and beam trace out new patterns in the stars.
The bongo man takes in a young orphaned girl and raises her, but as the girl grows older, the story takes a sharp twist and the bongo man believes he is at fault for the girl’s disappearance. However, the end of the story is heartening, even though the reader cannot tell whether the salt water on the bongo man’s face is from the sea or from tears.
Photo Credit: Laurel Meadows / CC0 Public Domain Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
Samuel Rovinski is an essayist, playwright, and fiction writer. He is the author of Ceremonia de casta, Las fisgonas de Paso Ancho, El martirio del Pastor, and La hora de los vencidos, for which he won the Premio Nacional Aquielo J. Echeverría.
His story “The Adventure” is not about an adventure in the typical meaning of the word, but rather about the thoughts of Miguel Vargas as he imagines what would be most daring to him: approaching his wife’s sister to express his desire for her as she sleeps in the next room.
Sleep finally comes to Miguel, but the adventure will return:
The curtains have stopped moving. Silence. The earth is asleep. One more truce. Daylight approaches and then night will come again, and another try, perhaps the last one or the resolution. His eyelids grow heavy, they close. He sleeps.
Photo Credit: Billy Hathorn / CC BY-SA 2.5 Source: Ras, Barbara, ed. Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Literary Companion. San Francisco: Whereabouts, 1994.
Does this childhood dream ever go away? For many of us, apparently not. A 
