My fellow Jews, during the months of January and February, made their pilgrimage, not to the Holy Land, but to the beach of Puntarenas13. Some of our compatriots had acquired the famous Las Hamacas Hotel (The Hammocks), conveniently located in front of the sea, and the place became a kind of Mecca that was visited annually. Like Muslims, the Jews would go around, not around a black stone, but along the Paseo de los Turistas, and instead of praying to Allah and repenting for their sinful acts, they would show off their best outfits and their “tooches” (behinds) in shorts.
The hotel was not luxurious and in Miami it would have only obtained half a star; it had a small pool, two floors of rooms, and a large dining room where, in the style of a kibbutz, they served us three meals. A friendly bell announced them and soon, like Pavlov’s dogs, a flood of hungry guests responded. “Herman, hurry up and take the table in front!” shouted the charming Sofia, who knew that there you could get the hottest meals. Before the poor boy could sit down, Doña Mishke had arrived first and occupied the front tables. “I’m sorry, Herman, but the Rubinshticks are many and we have small children,” she excused herself.
13 Puntarenas is a province located in the western region of Costa Rica. It is known for its beautiful beaches, vibrant wildlife, and stunning natural landscapes.