Riding The Bus In Costa Rica

The 12:15 bus from Ciudad Colon lumbered toward us, spewing its noxious exhaust and came to a halt with a grinding screech of its very essential and oft overused brakes. In Costa Rica, I have found that if there is a road, there is surely a bus that passes by.

We are fortunate to live in the country on the outskirts of San Jose and the autopista (highway) is a brief yet strenuous walk up the mountain, through our neighborhood, the lively Barrio Los Angeles which consists of a handful of modest homes, two pulperias (local markets) which are closed from noon until 2 for siesta and a smattering of sodas (snack bars) that serve the locals with heaping plates of homemade gallo pinto or fragrant arroz con pollo. A new highway is under construction that cuts through the southern end of our barrio, forcing my sister and I to travel the last 500 yards through a veritable dust storm amid the clamor of heavy equipment, replacing the peaceful music of the waterfalls, birds and jungle that we had left behind.

Crossing the heavily traveled autopista, we took our place at the parada (bus stop) and awaited the corriente . There are two types of buses here…the directo, which is nonstop from one location to another and the corriente, which makes numerous stops en route. Outside of San Jose, local buses are usually recycled US school buses with alarmingly bad suspension that offer a bone-jarring ride. Fortunately, we were spared the school bus experience as we climbed aboard a relatively newish bus. Our fare into the city was 320 colones (about 70 cents USD) and we found that the closer we got to the city, the more crowded the bus became until there was standing room only. I witnessed more than one young person generously offer their seats to others.

With an agonizing grinding of gears and shrieking of brakes our driver slowed the bus as we approached our destination, "De la Cocacola" in San José, the principal bus terminal in the city as well as the central hub of the national bus system. Also known as the Zona Roja, (the red light district), “De la Cocacola" is a referral point for the majority of addresses in San José and has a notorious reputation for pickpockets and petty thieves. The crowded terminal was teeming with life and exotic smells. We couldn’t avoid the tattered yet dapperly dressed beggar, a cigarette dangling from his mouth seated in his wheelchair on the crumbling sidewalk. Mega speakers secured to his chair were blasting lively country music and the man exuded a sort of joyfulness that was hard to resist as I reached into my pocket and dropped a handful of colónes into his box. Keeping our eyes open and our belongings close, we hailed a taxi, which delivered us to the magnificent Teatro Nacional, located on the corner of Calle 5 and Avenida 2.

This lavish stone building offers an intriguing history. The story is that while on tour in Central America, prima donna Andrea Patti haughtily dismissed an invitation to perform in Costa Rica, claiming that there was no suitable venue for an artiste of her stature. Through the effort of local cafelateroas (coffees barons), who voted to impose a tax on coffee exports to fund the construction, the Teatro Nacional was completed in 1887 and declared a national Monument in 1965.

Approaching the century old opera house, ours eyes traveled to the top of the impressive Renaissance building where three allegorical statues depicting “Music”, “Fame” and “Dance” graced the top; the work of Italian sculptor Pietro Bulgarelli. The elegant entrance hall, with its lavish pink and black marble floors and graceful Pompeian style marble columns housed the ticket office, gift shop, and the Teatro café which enticed the visitors with aromatic local coffee. The contrast of the lowly de la Cocacola terminal was overwhelming as we passed gilt pediments with intricate lion’s faces crowning the doors that led to the grand staircase. Detailed bronzed candelabra and exquisite balustrades graced the delicately veined marble staircase creating a splendid setting for the mural "Alegoria al café y el banano a canvas" representing Costa Rica’s main exports, bananas and coffee. Although the mural once graced the five-colón note, it is apparent that no one informed the Milanese artist, Jose Villa, that coffee is not a coastal crop.

The parquet floors, made of local timber, reflected the subtle afternoon light filtering in through the arched windows in the second floor lobby. Lavish sage drapes trimmed with gold framed the doorways as we delighted in the heavy oil paintings and portraits adorning the smaller private salons. Above were three superb triptychs representing “Dawn”, “Day” and “Night”.

The curved hallway, lined with beautifully carved wooden doors, led to private boxes of the wealthy Josefinos including the opulent Presidents Box, which overlooks the three-story theater that accommodates slightly over 1,000 seats in a perfect horseshoe formation. The auditorium floor is cleverly designed to be raised by a manual winch to stage level, magically transforming the theater into a ballroom.

Having had our fill of gilt, chandeliers and cherubs, we ventured out into the street to find the perfect place for lunch. The adjoining Plaza de la Cultura was swarming with tourists and Josefinos enjoying the exquisite day as the resonant tolling of church bells filled the air.

Crossing through the Plaza de la Cultura, we were charmed to see the fountains of stone dodo birds providing a hypnotic stream of water into the circular pool below. Nearby, two very contented birds, oblivious to the throngs of people, delighted in an afternoon splash of water spewing from what appeared to be a fountain depicting garlic. As I photographed the elaborate fountains, I incorporated a backdrop of armed militia, their automatic weapons dangling casually from their shoulder.