I was sick for months with an autoimmune flare up, and was finding it difficult to get back on my creative feet.
Nothing I tried felt inspired… and then I realized why I wasn’t and what was wrong. They were my ideas that came from me…not from my Muse. Then an idea began forming, almost intuitively and this idea, that was not coming from me, was asking me to jump into my role as humble scribe, and write down the Muse’s thoughts as fast as I could.
She had been quiet during my illness, almost as if she had abandoned me in my weakest moment…but when I began to hear her whispers, her intentions for me to take on…I was not angry…I was relieved…and I was intrigued.
It seemed like an awfully big project to me …the more I thought about it, the bigger it became. The background story, how I got to where I was, when I had my transcendental epiphany (Everything Eats Everything), during a weekend in Escazu, Costa Rica, taking a personal retreat with The Barefoot Carmelitas of Santa Teresa de Avila in a monastery of cloistered nuns, was quite an undertaking. Well it seemed like it was too much… I mean, to explain how I got there I would have to keep going back and going back… sighs. I was thinking my muse had bigger ideas than I was capable of realizing.
But, today I woke up thinking, hmm I could start here:
Chapter One
1:30 pm sharp: the tide was totally in.
They had given me a tide chart, which at first seemed
unnecessary but quickly became my bible.
Certain rivers and creeks could only be crossed safely at low tide; if it was half way between low and high tide, you might have to cross with the water at waist height…at high tide…you’d have to swim.
Our little house, we just rented, was situated at the mouth of the river Baru. That river mouth, at high tide, sucked in all the brackish-water fish from the Pacific ocean and sent them upstream. It was a good time to fish along the banks of Baru river…it was also that same high tide that flooded our entire downstairs.
(That’s me back in 1975 fishing with a hand reel at the mouth of the Barú River)
(Our little house on and sometimes in the Pacific Ocean…that’s me washing dishes)
Poett was a real good dishwasher too…lots of elbow grease)
(Tide is coming in)
We had been warned, just another interesting fact about our wooden two story house we rented from the Rojas family. Doña Carmen was quick to tell us that our new two story rental was only a one story, the upper story, as the very high tide had a tendency to wash right through the downstairs, which at one time, when it was first built, was a kitchen, shower and bathroom.
I admit it was inconvenient, hauling water upstairs from downstairs, to cook, and carrying dirty dishes downstairs to wash in a plastic tub with a hose, but it was absolutely unreal at high tide sitting on the balcony, looking out to sea…. It was like being on a ship in the ocean, instead of a house on the beach near the ocean.
It was Magical!!
(In January you could see the whales swimming by)
My five year old daughter Poett and I had just been here a short time, and yet after months on the road, long-hauling it down the Pan American highway, being delayed for almost a month in Guatemala waiting for parts for my difficult-to find-parts 1968 Harvester International pick up with a double cabin and 8 ft bed…We finally made it to a small remote beach on the Pacific side of Costa Rica, called Dominical, and declared “We’re home! We made it!!”
There’s our truck, Buster, in back & our 1st friend, Mariela & her bf Carlos
There was no electricity in Dominical, or phone service, or refrigeration..or anything. In the evenings, I taught Poett to light the candles and our funky little upstairs glowed with Rembrandt lighting, while the waves crashed below. Only the stars and the moon lit up the sky, and it felt like we had gone way back in time, instead of to another country.
What can I get you? Coffee? Pineapple Juice?……
I spoke Spanish, which was a blessing, and after four years paying attention in high school Spanish classes, I actually had learned and remembered something. Costa Rican Spanish had its own particular dialect and its very own words for things, but I could still communicate. I was a little worried for my five year old daughter who spoke only English… I learned quickly I had totally under-estimated her or really any five year old you plunk down in a foreign country,,, They can literally start speaking in weeks…
Poett brought her first friend home after a week and I heard them sort of playing/fighting in Spanish.. “My doll is prettier” .. not in perfect Spanish, but Poett got her point across. “Mi muñeca bonita.. muy bonita No MI muñeca mas bonita” I was absolutely amazed and very proud too… Kids just soak in a new language like sun rays…Before I could even believe it possible, Poett was speaking Spanish and about to enter Kindergarten, in the one room/six grades school house that was walking distance from our little precarious home on, and sometimes in, the ocean.
Quiere Jugar Muñecas? Want to Play Dolls?
I was 27 years old and Poett 5…We were beginning another life.
I started realizing how new this life was going to be, when Poett came home from school one day and asked, “Am I baptized?”
I said quickly, “No…why?”
“Are you baptized?” she asked. “No, why?” “
Why aren’t we baptized?”
“Well, we are Jewish, just not practicing our religion at the moment.”
My father was Jewish and never wished to see me baptized and my mother accepted as she was not very religious herself. Neither of us is baptized and that’s ok…it’s a choice…Poett thought about it and an hour later came back and said, “I choose to be Catholic…all my friends in school are baptized…so I want to be too.”
“Well, I will have to think about that,” I answered diplomatically.
“Oh and something else, Doña Luz is teaching me the rosary after school.”
“She is??? Why?”
“I asked her to…when I learn it..she will give me a rosary blessed by the Bishop.”
Oh boy, I thought…We are beginning a very new life indeed!
Poett in the Barú…perhaps on the road to conversion?? 1975
To be continued…
Thanks to Tom Ryan, Poett’s father and my ex (we were and still are friends) for the Photos you see, We didn’t have a camera so we were very lucky when he came to visit us:)
Here’s Tom & Poett that first visit to the house on the mouth of the river Barú
https://karimahoisan.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot-2026-09-30-at-9.11.52-AM.jpg
What a story! I love the casual mention of spending weeks in Guatemala waiting for truck parts. 🙂 An amazing road novel, but true! Thanks for sharing this (to you and the Muse!).
Awww thank you Dale for your encouragement to see this through….also for some “light editing”I have no idea how many chapters this will be, but I sense quite a few. I hope I can keep your (collective) interest along the way..Yeah, once again, Muse made me do it:)
I love this story and cannot wait to hear more!
Thanks so much Linda and I am thrilled you read it and look forward to more. Just your saying that…inspires me to find the right path back,,that will eventually lead me and my readers to the realization….Everything Eats Everything:):) Wish me luck and hope you will stay for the whole ride:):)🤗
How delightful! And, I can’t wait to read more, like your reader friend Linda Bass said! Here I thought I knew so much of your story, and you bring in the beginning of the story of Costa Rica here! You and your wily and clever muse! Awesome, Karima.. just wonderful!
Thank you Ms Loon and I’m so happy you enjoyed it. I wish I had more pictures, but they are far and few between, as we never owned a camera and film and developing was a 3 hour bus ride away That Muse always gets what she wants…I still have my doubts, but she insists,,,I continue…so on I will go..Stay tuned!! 💕
Wellll…. Oh you know how delightful I am that you are writing about this magical time! I was there too, with my own son. [ I even lived in the same on and sometimes in the ocean house, after you did ]. I love how you are sharing becoming a part of a remote tiny town in Costa Rica…and how Poett did her own transition… as she made friends in school.
I can’t wait to read more… of this rich story….about how all this totally transformed your life.
You of all people . Jan, know so much about this story already!! Yes we both lived at separate times in the house at the mouth of the River Barú. I’m not sure how many years later (not many) after you lived there, the ocean finally took the whole house on a stormy high tide nightI wish I could have seen that!!… Oh yes, my life was totally changed over the years living here.I will try to rely on my fading memory for the rest and as I said above, I’m so sorry I do not have more photos:) Much love and so glad you enjoyed the first chapter…you and I are witnesses for the unfolding of both our lives here!!!
Dear Karima, thanks so much for sharing.
I look forward to reading more.
Big hugs my friend 🫂🙏
Oh thank you Maggie for leaving your comment…and showing your interest in the rest…That inspires me!!! Big hugs to you dear Maggie!!
Karima my pleasure always.
Big hugs back to you my friend.
I hope your health is improving.🙏
Ohhh thank you Maggie..my health is so much better Alhamdulillah!!
I am so glad to hear that Karima.
Loved reading about your adventures with your daughter.
Thanks so much, Sadje, for reading about our real life beginnings in Costa Rica 🇨🇷 I hope to have a new installment in the coming days.
That is cool. You’re most welcome
Thank you for sharing this with us! What incredible memories. Wow.
Thank you Tracy and happy you enjoyed our memories…it’s a long back story, but I promise it will make it home…as promised in the intro:) Stay tuned….:)
Also, so sorry for the health flare-up. Glad you’re back in action. 🙂
So so nice to get a detailed account of your adventurous life Karima. I’m hooked. Waiting for next parts….
Might take a bit but #2 is in process…Thank you my friend for reading the first…I’m thrilled you want to read more:)
Oh dear Karima.. I’m sorry you have had a flair up but glad you’re on the mend! What a crazy yet wildly cool adventure this house was.. I love hearing about Poet’s young years and your history and your open hearted heart with Poet’s request. I love her certainty and such a young age. Glad you’re posting again.. xxx Hugs and love, my friend. xx
Big hugs Miz Cindy… and yes this story, I think has to be told…the interesting point is 51 years later..we’re both still here…and now Julian and 5 grandchildren are here too:)
I love that…Seems our move here was a destiny (maktoob..was written) instead of a flash-in-the -pan short lived whim:) Thank you so much for your good wishes for my health….Inshallah!!
A thanks dear friend! Yes it’s a story in your bones. That’s so special! Wow so special all of you having this rock solid foundation!! It’s my pleasure! Continued treasures and pleasures as you heal!!💕💓💕
I’m glad you’re doing better! And I’m happy to read your autobiographical work!
Thanks so much Dawn, for saying that…and glad you are on the ride of a bit of my RL history,tour…Waiting for some pictures to be found for chapter 2:)
I’m so glad you’re back to writing! I’m forever humbled by how it’s much easier to write when I feel healthy – we writers need to take good care of our bodies. You & Poett & your home are so charming!
Thank you so much da-Al for reading this personal post and I agree, we need health for our creative part to come forth:) That was a charming home that eventually was swallowed up by the sea. We are lucky we had moved, before that happened :):)
Fascinating to read of the experiences of others. Thank you for posting
Thank you so much David…sorry about the delay…this disease comes and goes..but appreciate always your support.
Bouquets of flowers and loads of kisses to your MUSE in gratitude for insisting you get on this (smiles). I hung on every word as the story unfolded. From my perspective, this as-told-by the REAL Sissy-Poo (you, lol) adventure is like a hinge point in experiential character building; the patience to endure waiting for parts to get to the destination, the humble abode, the rituals you had to adopt for daily living and the tremendous payoff of the serenity of occasionally being castaways enveloped in the waters with views where you sometimes saw whales passing by. just WOW!! But my favorite parts are where you give us a glimpse into the challenges and transformations that derived from your decision to try this living arrangement in Costa Rica. You are so BAD ASS (hahahaha) and Poett’s helpfulness, logical thought and advocacy for herself at such a young age is a true testament to how real life experiences drive how our character evolves. I’m really glad you undertook this mission to share the past with all of us. It is a worthwhile mission and I am looking forward to this very personal series. BRING IT!
Sorry Sis I have been so long to reply..you know why…I loved your comment in so many ways…Let’s talk soon..I need a Diz fix!! Love you sis💕 Give me some time..I promise I will bring the rest…🙏
Wow, what a story!
Thanks wave…means a lot you read it…I might be a little slow with the 2nd chapter…but I’m working on it! Stay tuned:)