I doubt anyone would guess that Costa Rica has the festival with the second largest quantity of beer drunk in the world behind Oktoberfest. Every January the tiny town of Palmares (about 1 1/2 hours north of San Jose) has the Fiestas Palmares. It turns out to be way less cool than it sounds. It's actually on par with any tiny county fair in the USA. There are the typical carny games and rides, the Latina equivalent of fair food, and tons of flirting teenagers. They do get good musical acts, though. Calle 13 played there last year.
James and I decided to check it out and planned a short day hike around it. We decided to hike from San Carlos to San Ramon where our good Peace Corps friend lived. They're both decent sized towns and connected by a windy, mountainous road with beautiful views. It was a good idea but the trip went downhill from the start.
The road to San Ramon was pretty eventful. James shocked himself pretty badly on a cafeteria lunch counter and I puked from bad water which resulted in us calling a taxi to drive us the final 30 minutes to town. The funniest and scariest part of the trip, though, occurred around 11. We were in a slight dip in the road and about to start up a steep hill when a wild pack of about 10 large family dogs jumped on the road in front of us. I immediately pulled out a stalk of sugar cane I had shoved into my backpack to eat later and James flicked out his tiny pocketknife and flashlight. I told him to stay close so that, if they surrounded us, we were back to back. I then raised the cane stalk over my head so as to smack it on the ground in front of me while yelling to try to scare them away. James interpreted this as a charge and instantly dashed into the pack of dogs screaming and waving his flashlight and knife in front of him. I took off yelling after him with sugarcane ready to strike. As the echoes of our screams bounced around the valley, the dogs tucked their tails and parted to let us through. When we got about 30 feet past them, we turned back to look at them and laugh. Only in Costa Rica.
The next day, something truly scary happened, though. We went to the Palmares fair and got on a bus at about 11 pm to take us back to San Ramon. As I got on the bus, I noticed a few guys in the back but didn't do my typical threat assessment. I sat alone in my seat with James in front and our other Peace Corps friend across from him. About 5 minutes into the 20 minute ride, a guy came and sat next to me and asked if I wanted to buy drugs. We told him no but he wouldn't leave. He then pulled his hoodie over his head, tapped me on the leg, and told me he was going to kill me. I asked him why and he said that I didn't respect him and he was a bad man. I tried to ignore him but he did the same thing about 3 or 4 times. I told James what he told me so he was aware of what was going on. I asked the guy what he wanted and he said nothing, just to shoot me. I weighed my options. He was in a very relaxed position with his finger in a Coke bottle that reaked of alcohol. I considered elbowing him in the face and hoping James would jump right on him. I thought I could, at least, stun him and give us time to take him down before he could do anything. But I thought that could lead to escalation. I had to assume he had a gun but I hadn't seen it so I decided to sit tight, maintain the status quo, and wait for the situation to play itself out. As we turned to get into San Ramon, I grew concerned that he wouldn't let me out of the seat, or that he would attack us in the shadows of the bus stop when we got out. James asked Leah where we were getting off and she told him at the church. At that exact moment I looked up and saw the church about 3 blocks ahead and then someone rang the bell to get off. Almost without conscious thought and in one quick move, I leapt from a seated position and propelled myself diagonally over him and the seat back in front of me. I kicked back at him to prevent him from grabbing my legs and sprinted to the bus door. I didn't even touch a step. I grabbed the railing at the door and jumped out of the bus to the pavement outside. I then sprinted full speed, assuming the guy was steps behind me the entire time, 4 blocks ahead before turning down a side road. As I turned, I look back to see both James and my other friend stepping off the bus. All I could think was, "What the hell are you idiots doing? Run for your lives!"
I was running out of gas as I frantically searched for an open bar or hotel, or just a spot to hide as the bus passed by. I turned down another street and started creeping along the building walls, panting to catch my breath in case I had to run again. As I reached a new street, I peaked around the corner and saw two guys standing there. I started walking past them before notcing one had I security hat. I turned and started explaining to them what had happened between gasps and asked where I could find police. Just then, James and our other friend hurriedly walked by. I yelled for them and eagerly ran over.
They said they had never seen anyone jump higher or run faster in their lives. The threatening guy was so surprised, he didn't even move. After my friends saw me run, they agreed they should get off too and hurried off the bus. The guy flipped them off as the bus pulled away.
The whole incident made me terrified of buses for about 8 months and prompted me to buy and constantly carry around pepper spray. Most importantly, I never sat on the inside seat again. It's too easy for someone to sit next to you and trap you in.
-Mick-
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