The Quepos Bridge Club plays at 12 noon every Tuesday at Dos Locos Restaurant.
DUST TO DUST
by Matt Casseday
Every year at about this time, I begin to understand why hair grows inside the nose. On the surface, few things are more unattractive than visible nostril hairs. How many times have you ever heard a woman say, ”I fell for that man as soon as I saw all those adorable strands of hair curling from his nostrils”? Likely never, unless she lived in the part of the world where she could only appear in public wearing a burqa. But here in Costa Rica, as we reach the latter days of the dry season, I appreciate my nose hairs for the function they perform, namely as a filter that keeps dust and dirt out of the nasal passages. When I ride my bicycle in and out of Quepos over several kilometers of unpaved road, I thank that little follicle forest within each nostril that enables me to breathe with confidence (confidence that I won´t end up in the emergency room with an oxygen mask strapped to my face). Dust is a daily reality at this time of year, and after 15 years of living here, I have come to accept its inevitability; like death and potholes, it will always be with us.
Lately I have done some research on dust, as I have been toying with the idea of pitching a tourism campaign to ICT (the Costa Rican tourism institute), based on the impressive volumes of dust generated every year during the waning days before rainy season arrives. I googled ”benefits of dust” and found only a little useful information; likely I could have googled ”benefits of sexually transmitted diseases” and received more responses. When I sprung this idea on various acquaintances I was generally met with laughter and skepticism; not even when I began reciting my idea for a commercial (”Costa Rica. You may know us for our beaches. You may know us for our rain forests. You may know us for our mountains. You may know us for our coffee. Now come know us for our dust.) was I taken seriously. And if you are reading this right now, you might be thinking, ”Is this guy some kind of mental outpatient?”
I know this idea may sound ridiculous, but I remember a day back in 1990, a few months before my arrival in Costa Rica. I was tending bar at the (aptly named) Rogues Gallery, on the island of St. Croix in the US Virgin Islands. Many regulars were gathered, drinking, watching Headline News on the TV. There was a feature story about an emerging new fad in the United States– body piercing. The piece concluded by showing the various ways in which one might choose to slightly mutilate one´s self, concluding with a shot of a quivering, extended tongue, freshly spiked. In all my years of tending bar, I don’t recall ever hearing an explosion of laughter like I heard at that moment. Reactions of disbelief and derision followed. ”Why would anybody want to get a hole poked in their tongue?” was the question of the rest of the day.
And yet– if I had a dollar right now for every person who has had their tongue pierced, I might well be on the Forbes 1000 richest list. So laugh, ridicule, deride the idea; just don’t be surprised if one day a few years down the road you see an ad which begins, ”Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Costa Rica in March and April is a wonderland of fine, world class sediment, filling the air, encouraging the newcomer to view the world through a dusty prism, seeing the world as if through the gauzy eyes of a newborn. Once you´ve seen a spectacular dust particled sunset, you will never be able to look at a regular sunset again.”
And remember– you read it here first.
visitors since December 2009
