Rio Limpio

unless you have your own car, the way to get to Rio Limpio is in the back of a truck. We rode up with 2 80-year-old grandmas, who hopped in back with us like it was no big deal. Two hours sitting on our packs, wedged between a sack of rice and a propane tank. The truck groaning as it heaved between gears, winding higher up into the hills, coconut palms beginning to mix bizarrely with conifers. 

Rolling into town, I could tell something here was different. It was quiet. There were no cars or motorcycles in the distance, no TV or radio. As we walked to the place we would be staying, the air felt so still, absent even that barely detectable electronic buzz that’s more feeling than sound.  

Yes, Rio Limpio is rural. Don’t expect your drink to be cold - electricity is the exception rather than norm here. Lunch is made over wood-burning clay ovens. Besides a few shelf-stable items, what you eat for dinner is what can be grown nearby. Clothes are washed in the river. Computers are rare and internet is confined to a government sponsored computer lab, open only 5 or 6 hours a day. Even cell service here is hard to find!

Despite, or really perhaps because of the challenges here, people are tough. If you want to move some dirt you grab a shovel and a wheel barrow. If your a rice farmer you use bulls and a plow. House are built and cement is mixed by hand. Want some chicken? Grab a machete.

People here are friendly, too. On wash day, the river is full of kids and the bank full of moms, playing and talking. On afternoons people take the time to visit friends and family. On evening walks through the neighborhood, you say hello to EVERYONE, wether you know them or not. It’s a place where anyone is welcomed into your home for mangoes and coffee. There is a pervasive feeling of cooperation and concern for each other here, and a desire to improve life. It’s a community where people work together with ease, and, despite being in a remote place, they’re accomplishing some really cool things.