Sin Pasaporte!: Stories from a woman with no national identity)

So, for those of you closely following our blog (which is all of you, right?), you would know that based on the aforementioned schedule, we should be on beautiful Isla de Ometepe in Nicaragua right now. We should be appreciating the biodiversity that the island has to offer and appreciating the local cuisine.
For those of you who follow syntax closely, you would know that I have used the words "should be" twice now. You would also know that this means we are NOT doing any of the aforementioned things in the aforementioned place.
That's right, we are still in San Jose, Costa Rica, and I'll tell you why.

Come with me on a journey back to the morning of Saturday, June 6th, 2009. Ben, Miles, and I (henceforth known as Malichi, Max, and Chan) were in the bus terminal in San Jose, waiting to get on a 6 hour bus to Penas Blancas, the border crossing into Nicaragua. Chan had to put her bag underneath the bus for the duration of the trip, since it is the size of a toddler and she cannot set it in the bus with her. She had set her money belt in her purse briefly, and pushed the purse behind her back as she loaded the bag into the belly of the bus. The purse was evidently unzipped.
Fast forward about 5 hours. Malichi, Max, and Chan are preparing to arrive in Penas Blancas when Chan realizes that her passport, $50(US), C6,000(CR), her phone card, and her little notebook with all of her addresses are missing. All of these items were kept in her money belt. Her money belt is also missing. She comes to the conclusion that it was removed from her purse in the less than 10 seconds that it was behind her back while loading her bag under the bus.
Malichi, Max, and Chan are not allowed entry to Nicaragua. It is far too late to return to San Jose without risking further theft and/or a situation which would require them to use the "repatriation of remains" clause on their ISIC cards, so they decided to head to the nearest large enough town for the night.
Fast forward to the part where Chan speaks in first person again:
The town we stayed in was called Liberia, the hostel was Hotel Liberia. It was dirty and falling down, complete with a condescending Tico at the front desk who gladly took our money (which was way too much for what we got) and sent us up the dripping stairs to the top floor. After a sleepless night at Hotel Liberia, we did some self-promotion of the blog and then we were on our way.
We hopped a bus to Brasilito, a little town on the coast where we called a hotel run by Aussies "home." Stress was eliminated by spending the next day and a half in the ocean at Playa Conchal and drinking beer on the beach (which was made of seashells). When it was dark, we wandered to a bar and then outside where we found the locals having a horse party (which I'm sure Malichi will tell you more about later). All in all, we agreed that Brasilito was a great place, and maybe it was a good thing we got sidetracked by the passport deal because it made us find somewhere beautiful in Costa Rica.
This morning, we made our (long) way back to San Jose, where we are now, relaxing in a hostel until we can make our way to the embassy tomorrow and put our foreign diplomatic bureaucracy to work. Wish us luck and that we won't have to stay too much longer!
Pura Vida! (or something)