Experience a la Tica

Tag: Academia Tica

A bittersweet tour of chocolate

As I tentatively sip a watery concoction of cacao, almonds and chili, the possibility that this bitter-spicy beverage is even a form of chocolate seems remote, let alone that under my crinkled nose froths the ancient precursor to all chocolate as we know and love it.

But history is a lot like taste — surprising, born of the bitter stuff and prone to unlikely combinations. Chocolate makes a great case study. While the chocolate we know today is more closely associated with European machines, West African soils and global appetites, the origins of cacao are in preColombian Latin America, where it has been grown, revered and served unsweetened for at least a millennium.

On a recent day at Sibú Chocolate, an artesanal chocolatier and cafeteria located a short drive from Academia Tica Coronado, most of us discretely push aside the little cups filled with Montezuma’s spicy recipe for orgiastic fortitude, eyes fastening instead on a selection of truffles, each like a tiny sculpture molded to exacting specifications artfully arranged on gleaming white plates.

But there is to be no gobbling of the gourmet chocolate on this tour. Restraint reigns as we listen to Julio Fernandez, co-founder of Sibú and Costa Rican historian, deliver an in-depth lecture. He prompts us to try each truffle as his story touches upon its origins. We are thousands of years into the story of chocolate before a Dutch chemist figures out how to produce it in solid form, like those so temptingly arranged on the table before us. Fernandez enlivens this long story with artifacts arranged all over Sibú’s garden cafeteria: from sticks and stone mortars to baroque oil paintings, WWII pin-ups and some chocolate-flavored product picked up at a local supermarket, for strictly anthropological purposes, of course.

“This is not chocolate,” Fernandez shakes his head disapprovingly as he holds up the plastic bag. This gesture becomes more frequent as his narration moves into the 20th century, when global demand turned more and more chocolate into product.

Founded by Fernandez and his American partner George Soriano, Sibú goes against this grain. “The (Sibu) concept is bean-to-gourmet-bar, and it has quite a few benefits. With higher-quality, handmade cacao, Soriano says he can ask a higher price and fairly pay farmers,” explained a recent report in the Tico Times.

The eight different varieties of chocolate we try during the tour all come from cacao beans grown at a single organic plantation on the Caribbean coast. The aim is to be uniquely sustainable while crafting flavors that are uniquely Costa Rican. Fernandez says Tico chocolate has a bolder, more bitter taste than African chocolate, though it is less resistant to pests. Despite their cutesy names, like “frosty pod rot” or “witch broom,” certain molds have led to the near collapse of the cacao industry in Costa Rica over the last thirty years, causing farmers to turn to livestock raising and other forms of agriculture, accelerating deforestation. (Cacao thrives in the shade and can be grown in a biologically diverse ecosystem, though some research suggests that these benefits can be relatively short-lived when coupled with pressure to produce high yields every season.)

In 1975, three years before the first frosty pod rot epidemics wiped out whole plantations on the Pacific Coast, Costa Rica produced nearly 7,000 tons of cacao beans. By 2012, that had dropped to just 700 tons, a 90% decrease. Meanwhile, production in West Africa’s Cote D’Ivoire increased a staggering 575 percent during the same 37-year period, according to statistics from the United Nations Food and Agriculture Administration. The human cost accompanying Africa’s cacao boom is incalculable, with nearly 820,000 child laborers working on Cote D’Ivoire cacao plantations.

-Emily Jo Cureton

Academia Tica students enjoy some coffee after a tour of Sibù Chocolate in Heredia.

Organic chocolate being prepared at Sibú in Heredia, Costa Rica.

July 28, 2014
Changing face in Escazú

When we pull up to his Escazú home, Gerardo Montoya hits play.

Parade sounds fill this sleepy neighborhood in the hills overlooking Costa Rica’s capital city. Crashing cymbals and snare drums punch off time as we walk down the driveway towards a garage workshop where our host awaits, dancing among the monsters he’s created, many of them large enough to swallow a man whole.

He cuts the music and announces:

“Meet my second family!”

There is el Chupacabra the blood sucking goat killer, just chilling next to Martina the spunky abuela. There are grinning diablos crowding long-nosed brujas, witches in cahoots with their equally hideous boyfriends, the brujos. There’s the hot pink-cheeked Rosita, a fat Spanish madam who spends most of her time with the hairless, tirelessly ambitious el Calvo. There’s la Segua, half beautiful woman, half dead horse. Her hobbies include hanging around water and scaring the pants back on unfaithful husbands. There’s Pancho the humble rancher, El Chino the racial stereotype and in the back there is Gerardo, a mask modeled after its maker, the likeness uncanny.

The “real” Gerardo Montoya beams as he explains the family history. His grandfather was Pedro Arias, one of the most famous mid-century Costa Rican mask-makers or mascareros, who defined an aesthetic style still used all over the country to make these paper mâché “payasos,” beloved guests at every popular festival or celebration, prone to spontaneous dancing and the chasing of children.

Montoya founded this workshop about 20 years ago, after hard times drove the family to sell its farmland in Escazú. Property values promptly sky-rocketed. Montoya has said within three years the German investor who bought that two hectare property was offered more than triple the amount he paid. This kind of story is typical of the rapid transformation taking place in this increasingly affluent cantón, 8 kilometers from central San José.

To get to the mask workshop, we first pass “new” Escazú’s towering condominiums, its gleaming skyscrapers and a colossal shopping mall. We don’t stop at Hooter’s, nor at the liquor store with an LED sign called La Bruja. We ascend narrow residential streets lined with locked gates, shiny cars and for sale signs featuring swimming pools. Near the end we pass an historic Catholic Church, a mural dedicated to cattle ranching and a 100-year-old adobe house where legend has it a real witch once lived. Finally, we climb the steepest grade yet, toward the cloud forests of Pico Blanca. Half-way up we arrive at Montoya’s home and workshop, 200 meters past the water treatment plant where he now works as a technician.

That’s his day job, but “…This is happiness for me,” he says, motioning to the masks.

“To sell a mask would be like selling a son.”

Though, he does have seven of them. (Sons, that is.) Two have learned to make the traditional masks, using clay to create molds that are then covered in strips of newspaper soaked in yucca gum, left to dry, mounted on wooden or metal frames and painted. It´s a month-long process before they are ready. Montoya doesn’t sell the masks, instead renting them to municipalities for popular festivals, which abound in Costa Rica. Famous for exemplifying the Central Valley style, Montoya’s masks were even used during the 1998 presidential inauguration of Miguel Angel Rodríguez.

At our tour Pedro Montoya, one of the seven sons, disappears under the skirt of a giganta, her gaudily made-up face and blonde hair a parody of a colonial Spanish dueña. He begins to dance like there’s nothing at all precarious about this situation, flirting shamelessly with our driver and facilities manager, Ricardo.

Next we assume some strange forms ourselves.

Upon reflection, wearing that mask and dancing like a maniac in Montoya’s driveway reminds me of learning Spanish through immersion. The giddiness and the sweat. The sense that whatever I want to convey is distorted by what I can convey. Feeling foolish and realizing that is actually kind of fun. The exaggerated gestures and lack of subtlety. The smiles and the laughter. The art of not taking oneself too seriously.

-Emily Jo Cureton

Academia Tica students masquerade at Montoya’s Escazú studio, home to traditional Costa Rican masks used for festivals around the country.

July 11, 2014
Events: Football and more

Cool upcoming events include an international food fair in Coronado, more than 100 activities in the capital and of course the World Cup.

Food: “Feria Internacional De Comida Típica”
Sick of “Gallo Pinto,” yet? Or maybe ready for another serving? The International Fair of Typical Food offers Costa Rican favorites, and also Caribbean and Latin American specialties from 10am to 6pm this Saturday, June 21st at the Inter-American Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture in Coronado.

Culture: “100 en un día”
This event on Saturday, June 21st in San José consists of many activities voluntarily organized by citizens who want to turn their home into a nicer and livelier place one small step at time… times 100! Learn indigenous handicraft techniques in creative workshops, see water of all colors coming out of the cities fountains, get free hugs, listen to the stories of homeless people, watch folkloric dance, get to know San José during a mini city tours, be a part of a flash mob or have a picnic with random people… Check the event map and schedule on the website or just go and stroll around in the central streets and parks to see what’s going on.

Exhibition: Soccer stadiums of the world
In honor of World Cup madness, an exhibition called “Las catedrales del fútbol” shows where the magic happens from a different point of view. Architecture and impressive capacity come to life with flag-waving fans, the joys and frustrations of thousands piqued by a tiny ball… All captured in these photos.
Visit the exhibition until August 1st in the Centro Cultural de España in San José (Calle 31, Avenida 13).

World Cup: Where to watch the games
Last week we celebrated the win of the Costa Rican team in the sports club Los Jaúles. Today at school we had an awesome time cheering for our team in the game vs. Italy!! If you are looking for another place to see matches, here are some tips from the staff in Coronado: Just in short walking distance down the street from the school you´ll find the bar “Los Socios”, for the weekends the karaoke bar “Las Cantares” above the supermarket “AM PM” and last but not least we recommend the bar and restaurant “Las Villas San Isidro” (from the church pass the park on the main street, turn left at the gas station and again left on the second street). If you look for something bigger: In San José is a large screen broadcasting all the games on the Plaza de la Democracia, right in front of the National Museum.

June 20, 2014
A crocodile kind of day

If the crocodile cares when a tourist throws a coconut at him from the Rio Grande de Tárcoles bridge, his face betrays nothing. He lunges and snaps instinctively, but promptly discards it, coconuts being among the few things an American Crocodile won’t eat.

Still, there is no trace of disappointment in his reptilian eyes, no sigh like annoyance in the breath he may surface to draw only once every hour, nothing spiteful in the way his back scales (called scutes) ripple muddy water, patiently circling. For all humanity throws his way, the crocodile remains inscrutable.

By now, the American Crocodiles that hang out under this famous bridge in the Pacific Central region of Costa Rica are accustomed to diverse offerings from above, some tasty, some inedible, all launched by humans who stop to gawk from the relative safety of the bridge. Near this aerial viewpoint, the entrance to Carara National Park offers access to primary rain forest, waterfalls and ideal crocodile habitat, just a few minutes drive from Jacó. Biologists estimate more than 2,000 crocs inhabit parts of the Tárcoles River basin, a system that flows all the way from the volcanic highlands near our Coronado campus to the coast near our Jacó location.

Since it is World Environment Day and crocodiles are pretty timelessly fascinating, we decided to take a little extra time on our way between schools to loiter on the bridge connecting our campuses and consider one of Coast Rica’s most ancient predators, both fearsome and fragile in today’s world.

The average adult male crocodile is 4.3m (over 14 ft) long. He can live 70 years. His diet consists primarily of fish, but can include pretty much anything fleshy that crosses his path, coconuts excepted. He does not rely solely on eyes or ears to find food, but can sense its precise location using dome receptors — little black dots visible around the sides of his jaws. This sixth sense is a fortunate adaptation for the Tárcoles crocs, who may be literally blindsided by climate change.

Lately longtime observers of the river have noticed increasing cases of blindness in adult male crocodiles. Scientists initially hypothesized that contamination from cities and farms must be causing some kind of blinding infection. However, initial investigations (i.e. five people capturing, hog-tying and sitting on 1,200 lb. crocs while a veterinarian warily checks the eyes), revealed that blunt trauma is a more likely cause than pollution. It appears only adult males are going blind, seemingly due to gnarly injuries sustained in fights with other adult males.

Meanwhile, the gender dynamics of the Tárcoles croc population are changing. Where there used to be about three females for every male, now it’s more like 1:1. Theory goes, the decline of a female-dominated society is leading to more eye-poking feuds between males during mating season.

But why the sudden uptick in male crocodiles?

The sex of a crocodile is determined by temperature: the warmer the nest, the more the males. Leading crocodile experts believe that climate changes, particularly localized effects caused by deforestation in the Tárcoles basin, are causing warmer temperatures in the crocs’ nesting habitat. Less trees may mean more male crocodiles, more fighting over female crocodiles, and eventually, no female crocodiles at all.

From the Tárcoles bridge our coconut-throwing kind might imagine these enormous reptiles are living much as they did in the age of dinosaurs. However, rapid environmental changes instigated by humans are in fact changing their reality, perhaps disastrously. We scan the muddy banks of the river, looking for females jealously guarding nests dug into verdant cover. The babies will be born soon, entering the world with the first heavy rains. At first nurtured as a tight-knit clan by a protective mother, at five weeks they are capable of hunting insects and small fish and will eat each other should the pickings get too slim.

Sea turtles are less famous for this kind of unapologetic survivalism, but like crocodiles develop with temperature-dependent sex determination and face possible extinction by climate change, in addition to habitat destruction. Programs exist on both coasts to bolster turtle conservation efforts, for which our students routinely volunteer.

-Emily Jo Cureton

Sunrise over the Rio Grande de Tarcoles, where thousands of American Crocodiles make their home.

June 5, 2014
A fresh take on fruit
Studying takes a turn for the delicious at Academia Tica’s fruit tasting class, where we sample some of Costa Rica’s most sumptuous offerings. After an hour at this mouth-watering table we know our mangos from our mangas, our guanabanas from our guabas, our nances from our elbows.

In Costa Rica fruit is a USD $1.5 billion a year industry, accounting for 84 percent of the country’s agriculture, according to statistics from the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization. Pineapple production in particular increased 42% from 2009-2013, mostly exports grown on huge plantations.

Still, locally-grown small-scale fruit is easy to find at outdoor markets and roadsides. Fruity drinks and smoothies (called naturales and batidos respectively) can be found virtually everywhere food and drinks are sold. Local chains for these kind of beverages have flourished over the last couple of years.

Because it has rich volcanic soils, tropical climates and temperate zones, Costa Rica produces an astonishing variety of fruits, many indigenous to Central America and many imported from Asia. At this Tuesday’s tasing class, students try just a smattering of what’s in season.
- Guaba – Commonly known as a the the ice-cream bean, large green pods contain black seeds with a thick white juicy pulp that tastes slightly like vanilla ice cream
- Granadilla – Known as passionfruit in the English-speaking world. Easily peeled by hand, the edible black seeds are coated in a slippery, brain-like goo, which smells as sweet as it tastes. Its tangy cousin the maracuya is more popular for drinks and smoothies.
- Manga – the ultimate tropical treat imported to this hemisphere after thousands of years of cultivation in Asia, prolific in Costa Rica and much of Latin America, sweet, often fibrous with a stone like center.
- Mango – Small green cousins of larger, riper mangas
- Limon dulce – Sweet limes are another native of Asia. The flavor is sweet and mild, but retains the essence of lime. Less acidic than most citrus, can be bitten right into but more popular in drinks.
- Nances – Strong-smelling cherry-like fruits that are popularly used in regional wine called vino de nances.
- Pina – Pineapple is Costa Rica’s fastest growing export. Delicious but when produced on such a large scale, environmentally dubious.
- Sandia – Watermelon is prolific in Costa Rica. Originally from Africa and actually considered by botanists to be a special kind of berry with a hard rind.
- Papaya – A native of Central American, papaya has fed its inhabitants for thousands of years. The sweet orange flesh is also known to have numerous medicinal applications.
- Carambola – Descriptively known as the starfruit for its shape, this native of Asia has a punchy, acidic flavor.
Other fruits common in Costa Rica include the dietary staples plantains and avocados.

Academia Tica students sample the fruits of Costa Rica — diverse, abundant and so tasty!
June 3, 2014