
The clouds slide down the mountain side
and reach into little streets, fogging the trees…
the smells of coffee brewing, wood stoves igniting
hen’s squawking loudly, “I’ve laid an egg!”
It’s a big event in the small backyards to
the beat of the radios blaring and dogs barking.
School uniforms under the irons steam and steam…
Pressed collars for the school girls, pressed pants
for the boys and bursts of white and blue march
out of the houses, forming giggling streams and
raucous seas, of children on their way to school.
Everyone knows everyone and the block is
alive with “Buenos dias! Como amaneció?
Small town that sprawled its way to 45,000
nestled in the General’s Valley, below the Chirripó…
where shop owners know your name, and people
walk through the town to do their shopping.
My town, so humble and majestic, beautifully
kissed by angels, even its’ name is a divine reminder,
of its’ guardian and protector, the beloved farm laborer
San Isidro de El General de Costa Rica.
Karima Hoisan
February 26, 2019
San Isidro de El General, Costa Rica














