Deep within St. Herman’s Cave in central Belize, we switched our headlamps off. Immediately all traces of light vanished. The shimmering columns of quartz and the pieces of millennium-old pottery disappeared in the absolute darkness. I knew that we were the only souls inside the cave system, yet the distant underground river spoke in tones of a hushed conversation. I heard footsteps. Suddenly, in the absence of light, the caves came alive. I could see why the Maya felt that this cave was a spiritual center, the entrance to Xibalba, the underworld. I was in the middle of a Belize that I had no idea existed 48 hours earlier.more...

Let me tell you about a dream of mine. I head down the elevator of my 11th-floor apartment in downtown San Jose, to the corner coffee shop where I check out the newspaper and watch other urban denizens start their day. The sun’s first rays poke out from under the tree-lined boulevard. Then, I go to the office just a few blocks away. After work, I might have dinner at a Lebanese restaurant on Paseo Colon, then go out for drinks at a new lounge/bar in Los Yoses, both of which are just a ¢500 cab ride from my high-rise pad. more...

As the bird flies, judging by the rudimentary map of Costa Rica that hangs on the otherwise bare walls in my room, it can’t be more than 80 miles from Costa Rica’s capital San José to the indigenous community of Yorkín, near the Caribbean on the Panama border. For many people back home, in southeast Michigan, 80 miles is a commute to work. It’s an hour-long ride that requires only a car, and perhaps a Big Gulp from 7 Eleven, or a bag of Cheetos. In Costa Rica, 80 miles is a bit more involved.more...

Weaving past the vocal lottery vendors flanking the cavernous entrance, I let the dark labyrinth swallow me. This is not your typical tourist spot, I thought to myself as my eyes adjusted to their new environs. The narrow passageways are always filled with people, frantically bargaining and pointing to merchandise hanging from the steep walls. The air is thick with various distinct aromas: piquant tropical herbs proclaim their ability to cure any calamity; sweet fruit and vegetables dance in the nose; fresh fish pungently declare their presence. The sights, sounds, and tastes of the Mercado Central, or Central Market, located in the heart of San José, are a delight for any traveler looking to connect with the local culture.more...

My favorite restaurant in the entire world is a tiny lunch counter in Heredia. Its inconspicuous location beside a busy road beguiles the delicious food its cooks serve up. Although there is no sign or written menu, and the facilities are little more than a counter lined with a dozen stools, Soda Gimbel is one of the city’s most popular eateries. Red taxis, always a good sign of a proper pedestrian restaurant, crowd for space out front. Passersby stop in so often that sometimes you have to wait to get a seat.more...