Artist Botanist

Everyone in the village, and even nearby villages, has heard that we plan to build a casa. The Kid says several men have stopped him to say they would like very much to be hired to work for us. The Kid, an experienced builder who has his own work to do this year, says he will provide part-time oversight while locals will do the actual construction. He will determine who to hire from the village, saying our timing is good as the local farmers are now in between two coffee harvests. We have a one-month window, starting next week.

We are walking past the local soccer field when our friend Marcos comes along. He is smiling and it seems he has been looking for us. We think he is inviting us to his uncle’s house, saying “Tio Ta-li” and something about ‘entrada’ and ‘casa’. He gestures for us to walk along behind his dirt bike, and we do, unsure if he is going to enter his uncle’s house, if we are to enter, or if something completely different – and misunderstood – is about to take place.

Suddenly Marcos dismounts and signals for us to follow him along a short path to a house situated in a very small clearing. It stands in the midst of a patch of tall jungle and hardwood trees. Giant tropical plants dwarf the house on all sides, many leaning over the small structure. Thick bunches of bougainvillea in several shades of crimson cascade from the roof. Underneath the trees there are dense plantings of cultivated palms, shrubs, tree ferns, flowers, vines and smaller trees of all shapes, sizes and colors. Narrow footpaths lead from the house through the plantings. The scents of orange and wild ginger fill the air. We have come to a magical place.

The house is constructed with a tin roof and the front room has horizontal planks with gaps of a few inches between each rough-cut board. Window openings have pencil-size strips of bamboo nailed up to form fancy panes but there is no glass or screening. There is a small concrete porch at the front, shaded by rusty tin. A wide plank has been carved and mounted on two rocks for comfortable seating. Tio Ta-li’ is seated by his front door on a small stool cut from the bent root of a tree. He has a warm, engaging smile and his face is worn smooth. He is wearing a brown stone rosary and an old guitar leans against him.

Marcos introduces us. Tio Ta-li’ nods as if he’s known us a long time and gestures for us to come inside.
The front room is dim. No electrico, Marcos tells us. The gaps in the wall and the open doorway let in light. We sit on a worn sofa, one of the few pieces of furniture. One corner of the room holds a homemade altar with a plaster statue of Christ set on a little wood platform decorated with candles, rocks, moss and fresh flowers and leaves. In a combination of sign language and Spanish, Marcos explains that Tio Ta-li’ is a woodcarver and that he carves what he sees around him.

From another room Ta-li’ brings in his works, each time carrying in just one piece for us to see, then after a while replacing it with another. A large wooden pitcher crafted from a tree branch – and that pours – is covered with intricately-carved vines and flowers and the initials of our village and then P.Z.C.R., for the former provincial name of Perez Zeledon in Costa Rica. Wood burls are carved into bowls and mugs. Toucans, parrots, monkeys, tanagers and hump-backed cattle are carved from twisted or curved pieces of wood. Each piece is masterfully made and some have been varnished or carefully painted, colors now faded. Ta-li’ is a true artist.

His wife is busy in their kitchen, which holds a small wood cookstove. Ta-li’ invites us to the back room – his workshop, which may also be a bedroom? Leaning against the walls are boards of all sizes, most still with bark. A wooden platform holds a large mound of clothing. Another foot-high platform of stick legs and rough-cut planks has just a worn, flattened pillow and a crumpled blanket on top of the boards.

A few planks held up by knotty posts serves as Ta-li’s workbench. It holds a few old tools and above it several small pieces of twisted sticks and knots of woods hang from rusty pieces of wire. Ta-li’ picks up interesting pieces as he walks about, to later let his imagination determine what each will be.

Marcos asks Ta-li’ to show us what he has brought us to see. From behind the workbench Ta-li’ drags out a large V-shaped piece of bent wood about six feet across and a foot thick. This interesting piece of blond tree has been worked over and over to smooth perfection. For above the entrada of our casa, Marcos explains. We like it and Pecos asks how much. Ta-li’ smiles and signals for us to wait.

He pulls out another large piece. It is a perfectly-crafted, realistic boa constrictor fashioned from a thick, curved vine. This wood creature is loosely curled and holds its head high. It is about four feet high and three feet across. Just as I feared, Pecos loves it. Now Ta-li’ will tell us the price for the snake and the entrance piece: an amount equal to $40 total. Pecos cannot pay him fast enough. I ponder where Pecos and this creature will sleep at our new house, certain it will not be indoors or near me. Ta-li’ tells us he will apply varnish to the wood and we all shake hands. I say, “No mas serpentes, por favor, Tio Ta-li!” and he laughs quietly.

Ta-li’ takes us outside to show us his gardens. Neat rows of rocks form narrow pathways among shady beds holding plants, shrubs, ferns and trees of every color. The gardens are simultaneously at foot level, eye level and above us. Nearly every tree and shrub in his yard has several other smaller plants hanging from it. While some are in planters made from old tin cans, small wood boxes, or pieces of bark sewn together, most are growing from clumps of moss fastened on small pieces of planks. The moss is tied with strips of grass or vines against flat wood pieces just a few inches in length that hang from twisted bits of wire. Bright flowers and leafy plants hang down from these homemade planters.

Brightly-colored bromeliads with variegated leaves and tinted streaks of golds, pinks and purples are rooted high to low along tree trunks and branches. Epiphytes with long dangling roots are growing from every woody crevice from ground level to high overhead. Some of the lowest tree branches have moss tied around their entire horizontal lengths, creaking under the weight with a rainbow of flowers and foliage growing along them, sometimes just a few feet from the ground. A staghorn fern, larger than a wheelbarrow, hangs from an overhead branch. Other feathery ferns tower over our heads and thin, silk-like sheets of green and gold moss hang from some of the largest trees.

I suddenly realize that many of the bright flowers from plants arching in containers or from crevices in the trees are exotic orchids of many colors and varieties, some quite large with thick stalks. Monkey-faced, polka-dotted, furred, lipsticked and bottle-shaped flowers dangle in the speckled sunlight under these trees. Ta-li’ also grows vanilla-producing orchids and shrubs of pepper. I am dazzled by all of it. I think I can feel the plants moving slightly toward him as he leads us along the paths; is this possible?

Ta-li’ shows us everything, from tiny rooted plants tucked into moss, to large specimens of panama hat palm, floor- and canopy-creeping liana vines, and multi-colored bird of paradise and shrimp flowers. He demonstrates taking root and stem cuttings and which mosses are best for certain plants. Behind the house he directs Marcos to climb a few tall trees leaning far over a steep ravine. These trees are heavy with oranges, and he points out which fruits should be picked and tossed to us for taking home. He explains through Marcos that he grafted these trees as saplings. Later we tell each other these are the sweetest, juiciest oranges either of us has ever tasted.

Tio Ta-li’ is a true botanist. His gardens, a paradise. He must hold genetic identities known only to him. He tells Marcos to let us know that after our casa is built he is willing to provide us with plants as desired for our finca. I am so excited by this that I later lay awake for the next few nights, thinking of the possibilities.

Shortly after we get home, Pecos digs through his trunk and in the very bottom is a complete set of new woodcarving tools he’d brought to Costa Rica. He takes out every other tool, ties them together with string, and walks back to the village just before dark to give the bundle to Tio Ta-li’. 