The night it happened was like our last week in Costa Rica. We met the girls about a week prior, somewhere midway through our trip, and were all having a really good time.
We had just crossed the country to the Caribbean side to see the difference and we were on our way back, south, then north, to San Jose. We stopped in a town called Quepos.
Quepos was fulla ex-pats. And it was quite hostal. We were offered harder drugs like meth and crack here for the first time, opposed to the usual weed, blow and sex. It wasn't really a tourist town. More of a shipping port town. That night we had some strange warning signs that we were in for some trouble here. One instance, at a hot-dog-eating-contest a couple of ExPat's were pounding on a belligerent tico. He was beyond drunk. And he kept trying to fight them, they would laugh and knock him down.
The guys bragged to us about how they ran the town and lived like Kings, yadda yadda, -- we didn't stay long in their presence.
We left the girls in the hostel we were at, and went searching for a quiet spot to smoke and enjoy the night air.
Just as we sat down, and lit that joint, we got run up on, my cousin and myself, by a couple of kids. They chased us with knifes down an alley way between a building and a soccer field. We eventually out ran them down a street into a bar. I thought we were toast but they were kinda fucked up, and wide-eyed from what I saw the moment they snuck up on us.
Here is a photo of my cousin and I in that allie between the soccer field: http://imgur.com/CxlaP,sz0JC,E47KV,TbFw8#3
We picked up some big rocks after that, and always had something for defense on us in the pockets. This would come in handy later in our story.
Back at this little hostel place, the girls weren't liking the town either, and wanted move down to Manuel Antonio the next day.
Manuel Antonio, you should know, is about 15 Km or something, through the hills to a dead end road with a National Park at the end.
The streets are lined with a lot of high-fenced resorts, and tourist spots to use as jumping points for exploring the park.
We found a nice little local place on recommendation. Photo here: http://imgur.com/CxlaP,sz0JC,E47KV,TbFw8#2
If I ever have the option while on proper adventure travels, I always try to stay local. You just get better intel on the surrounding area from people who call it home.
There was a lot of good times for two nights in this little mom and pop's place. We met a nice woman with twins, and she was visiting with her mother and aunt and they were our next door neighbors.
We partied pretty late with them one day and spent the afternoon at the beach hanging with them, getting drunk. They later told us that they never knew Americans could be like we were, so nice.
They opened up they're whole vacation to us.
They were staying a night shorter than us, and told my cousin and me that when we got to San Jose to come to their house and we could crash the night, wake up and have breakfast with them before the Grandmother, Abuela, said she would drive us to the airport.
On seeing our friends leave, our group started to get sentimental. The girls had spent 2 months in costa rica in the teachers school of emersion living with familys and were next off to Peru to teach english. We all decided we would have a final dinner together, suck it up and goto a local restaurant.
We didn't get out of our room till about 7 pm, and it was starting to get dark. FYI, Manuel Antonio after dark is a whole other world.
All the safety in numbers of tourists during the day and street vendors has vanished. All that remains are some locals and a lot of bums.
We arrived at the restaurant to find out they close at 7pm! Bummed out, and starting to be harassed (The girls were dressed lovely for dinner) We turned around to walk back to our rooms.
There is a place in the road, where it splits for a tiny circular turn around. It passes right by our hotel, and loops back up to the main road. We decided we would take the low road, walk under the canopy and listen to the ocean on our walk back.
At that point a stranger with capri pants, no shirt, sun dried skin and a curly head of hair, starts running down the street our direction, chasing a car as it over takes us on the road, and passes us. The girls were oblivious anything was suspicious, but my cousin and I started signaling and saying our "safe" words to communicate the alert.
He was walking like what he imagines he looks like drunk, because it a appeared to me to be him pretending to be drunk. At least that's what I thought as he was stumbling up on us to maybe appear docile enough to catch us off guard and grab someone until he got what he wanted.
(When we sense something is a red flag, we start talking about our code word. In this case it was "rock". )
The car passed us sure enough, but when the curly haired guy ran up on us, he slowed and his body language faced us somewhat. It was enough to catch the girls off guard. We all started to fast walk and "act normal, stay calm" and headed to our little low road pass.
When Curly caught up to the car, it stopped. It was slowing down when he passed us running, and he looked back a few times in our direction while talking in the car.
The car finally sped off, and Curly walked back down the road, not a bit drunk looking as he had pretended before.
He continued his way down the path back towards the restaurants as we made our way opposite towards the narrow low road. Photo here seen the next day of low road: http://imgur.com/FJWFr,Bu5bJ,gOAaK#2
The road was pitch black, and as we started inside, a car creeped very slowly down the path our direction, almost stopping but never slower than a crawl.
I instantly felt the Spidey sense and looked to my cousin to see what he was seeing. One of the girls then crossed the street. Right in front of the car as it was approaching, still about 20 feet ahead. So then my cousin, in keeping calm, also crosses the street. I crossed the street too but surprisingly, the other girl, K, stayed on the left side of the road. I followed my cousin, and motioned to her to come but she just kept on obliviously until the car came in between us and her, headlights blinding somewhat until it separated us and then it slowed again.
It freaked us out when it happened and I knew something was different, the car crawled very slowly forward and I could see K hopping now, and then out of pure instinct, she finally screamed, letting out the most blood curdling yell I've ever heard in my life. She was hopping backwards from what I could see and I thought she was being run over and dragged under some unfortunate clipping of the front tire well. Her scream was completely unintelligible and i assumed she was in unimaginable and excruciating pain. I got in front of the car and yelled stop, with my hand out, thinking somehow this benevelont driver didn't notice, but it kept moving forward, so I jumped on the hood and held on by the windshield wipers.
K let out an audible "HELP ME" and after that we all just reacted. It was almost a black out event that I remember but can't imagine happening or doing.
I slammed the hood with my hand yelling stop, and when I looked to her, I saw the front door, on passenger side of the car was open, hands reached out pulling on her, and through back seat windows, a lot of arms were in grabbing at her! Surreal I tell you.
Into my pocket I pulled out the first thing I could find, a fist sized, smooth river stone and hurled it as hard as I could directly into the windshield! The car stopped on a beat. K broke free, and the windshield glass spider-webbed a huge circular series of cracks. I thought in that instant I was going to be killed.
What shocked me next was the car completely emptied. All the guys inside, (probably about 5 or 6 guys) jumped out the car and scattered every direction. Mind you it's pitch black, with the exception of the lights emitted from the still on and ajar car.
I can only assume they weren't watching me but pulling at K, when I threw the rock. From the inside it must have appeared to be a gun shot.
When we broke free I grabbed K, who was hyperventilating, and we ran with the other girl, E, until we landed at this spot pictured here:
My cousin broke off and was trying to run ahead to get help. The girls were terror stricken and did not want to move, and at this point we were only a few hundred yards through a jungle to our room.
We ducked down and hid for a good 15 minutes, as we eventually saw the car flip-a-bitch and tear down the beach towards a small restaurant and then back. Picking up guys the whole time. People yelling. No sign or sound of my cousin. So we stayed low and quiet.
My cousin later told me he was chased at that point by the car.
K was just giving up. She was so terrified she didn't want to move, so we were lurking in bushes and lying on the ground breathing as quietly as we could.
At the above picture where we hid, two men came out. One younger in his 40's, and the other in his 70s, and they had a dog and a shot gun with them. We shit balls and tried to keep quiet, but they knew something had happened and heard us, and were calling out to see if everything was OK.
The girls didn't want to show ourselves but I finally just stood and said "please help us we have been attacked" or something to that nature.
They were very kind, as 99% of the locals I encountered. We described the car, where we were staying and that we did not feel safe.
The younger man, with the gun took off towards the spot in the road with the dog, and the old man walked us back up with a flashlight to the hotel we were staying.
At this time about 5 older men were watching soccer under the porch at the local hostel and they greeted us with concern. (Offered the girls valiums) and called the federally.
One thing you should know, in Costa Rica, there are no Police. There is no army. Just the Federally. And they drive around in Subaru's armed with fully auto assault rifles and in places like Manuel Antonio, they are few and far between. You are own your own out there.
The old men consoled the women and blocked off the main road and watched every car. We knew that it was one way in and out, so the car was towards the park somewhere.
We described the car, decals on the side and windows, and of course, the broken front windshield.
The men all muttered "Alejandro" roughly at the same time and knew the car. They told us there had unfortunately been some problems with this kid lately. (Drugs and rapes of tourists).
The old men wanted to take him out. My cousin finally arrived. The kid was speechless. Like he'd seen a ghost.
When the Federally's arrived they wanted us to come with them into the street and point out potential car's and identify people from the cars. We we'rent interested in being live bait, but were falsely assured by the Federally when one of the guys smiled at our balk and kinda raised his gun.
No luck after a couple hours, so we hoped in their car and drove into town. We saw the Curly haired man from earlier and pointed him out as knowing the car, but he denied it and didn't have papers and the federally just kinda shrugged him off.
The girls were so terrified they asked to go back to the high security hostel in Quepos with a ride from the cops.
We slept that night in our room, very little i admit. We waited till the sun rose to leave our room or unlock the windows. We walked through the whole night that morning, retracing our steps.
Within the week, little K was flying home and abandoning the job in Peru. E, did however stick it out and go down and have a great experience, I later heard.
We finished our trip in San Jose. We met up with our new friends, the family. We took them all out to eat on the last of our loot. They couldn't believe what we told them happened the day they left. We slept the night at their house. In the morning, after having breakfast, Abuela (The grandmother) took us to the airport and we safely returned home.
Pura Vida, I will never forget.
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