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Two pieces of news from the Costa Rica leg. The first is the Philimination of the lovely Gaghan family, brought on by one of those stupid needle-in-a-haystack Roadblocks that have a tendency to operate with great unpredictability. In this case, Tammy can't find the red coffee bean, and it leads to their demise. But they're awesome and classy in defeat. The other piece of news is the ratcheting up of the reasons not to like the Weavers, who reach new levels of hypocrisy, hostility, and flat-out meanness, sitting around making cracks about low members of society such as garbagemen, insulting the pinks' boobs, and repeatedly employing the word "retard" with as much hostility as possible. Oh, and they still can't talk to Spanish-speaking people without sounding like the ugliest Americans of all time. I cannot improve on the forum post by one erik97, who made the following two observations: (1) "Jesus hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors, and fishermen. He would certainly have welcomed garbagemen with open arms. But the Weavers wouldn't." And (2): "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was neither 'righto' nor 'lefto.'" Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on Wow, Where Did We Put The Passports All That Time Ago?: The race finally left the country, heading for Panama, where boat drivers mean everything and skill means nothing. Oh, and the native birds are all made of wood, SHUT UP. The Paolos edged the Gaghans for a bungee-jumping Fast Forward, but Papa Bill beat out Sharon Swing-and-a-miss-ski at the baseball Roadblock, so it was the Godlewskis finishing last. They were not Philiminated, however, and lived to screech in unison another day. They also managed to run out CBS's entire annual allotment of on-screen women's underwear in one shot, resulting in a stern letter from Standards and Practices entitled "Gratuitous Panties: URGENT Please Review," in which the words "Leave some for Jennifer Love Hewitt!" were used. In other news, Mama Weaver snarled at the brothers Linz for peppering Rolly with "batta batta batta" while he was trying to hit, and continued to show all the warmth of January in International Falls. This week, the pinks will start out with no money whatsoever and no way to make money other than by opening a black-market lingerie and mosquito-proof hat boutique. (I'm just saying: They clearly produced a mosquito-proof hat. They brought it, not me.) Who will be Philiminated...?
Credits. You know, I normally would never bring this up, and God knows I've had enough unflattering pictures of me taken to last a lifetime. But if I were going to, say, take out other teams' pictures and mock the appearance of faces and boobs and whatnot out loud on camera while, say, standing at the Yield? I would make sure that in the credits and anywhere else on the show and in my precisely parallel still photos, the portrayal of my tummy was extremely flattering and did not at all make it look like I was slouching in a manner that made me look pregnant. It's one of those where if you don't bring it up, I certainly won't, but when you open the door, it's hard not to walk through it. [BOMP.]
Commercials. It occurs to me that I don't show adequate conviction in the apparently critical battle against dust. But then...you're talking to a person who recently managed to drop her phone in a dish of salsa, so if neatness really does count, I already am in some serious hurt.
Fairly severe music returns us to Panama, where people appear to be rather busy at the moment. Phil tells us that the Panama Canal is a "marvel of engineering," and that it connects the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Which, I hope, you know already. I'm glad they came here, actually. I think for a relatively nearby country, it's less well-known than some. Americans have the whole thing like, "Um...there's a canal...and hats, I think...and doesn't Van Halen live there?" On the Pacific side, we find the Miraflores Locks, which served as the fifth pit stop. We are reminded about the mugging of the overdressed pinks, and Phil wonders whether this will be the first time in history where being mugged at the close of an NEL actually made any difference, or whether they'll "rebound from this setback." Oh, the unpredictability of it all. When will the Significance Alarm go off in this episode -- that is, when will be the first moment in which anything occurs that actually matters? Sometimes, the Significance Alarm used to go off in the episode, you know. Now, it rarely goes off before the third set of commercials.
The Paolos leave first, at 8:22 PM. The clue instructs them to travel to San Jose, Costa Rica. Phil explains that this will be accomplished by getting a taxi to the bus station, where they'll sign up for one of three charter buses leaving a half-hour apart. Only two teams to a bus, so that's a hard anti-bunch, and it will be followed by a drive to an active volcano where they'll get another clue. As they leave, Mama Paolo optimistically supposes that her ungrateful brats are beginning to appreciate her a little bit more, given how the race is going. Maybe they're just glad she's not Linda "Evangelista" Weaver. They look for a taxi while reviewing the "additional information" that came with the clue. Brian tells the rest of the family not to fight, but he does it in sort of a "fight and I'm going to kick your ass" kind of way, which I admire. It's like, "Don't make me ask you if I have to turn this car around, or I swear, I will turn this car around. Right! Around!" Their taxi finally arrives, just in time to avoid bloodshed.
9:11 PM. Weavers. (Boo!) In maybe the creepiest off-the-mat talk ever, one of the girls explains, "We've been raised since we were born not to trust other people, but to trust your family and to trust God." Wow. Not to trust other people? I mean, I would have gotten it if she said they were raised not to worry about what other people think, but to have a girl that age saying she's been raised not to trust anyone outside the family is really...an unhappy thing. It explains why they relate to other people in a manner reminiscent of the Coneheads, but it feels sad. Anyway, there is more talk about how they can't control other teams talking about them, and then the other daughter, I think, adds, "We're all Christians, and we're above that." Well, I can't argue with that. Jesus did speak extensively about the importance of crowing and placing oneself above others. I think that's what all the stuff about how you're more important than the birds of the air and the lilies of the field was about. It's like I finally understand the Book of Matthew.
9:16 PM. Bransens. We learn that they are getting a mighty $74 for the leg. I love the piddly amounts of money that represent the piddly little tasks. I wonder if the clue actually says, "You won't be doing much, so you won't need much." Anyway, you won't believe it, but as they run off, Wally talks about how the girls are a unit and he's just the old, dumpy, slow dad, not really part of the group. I have to wonder what in the hell these people would talk about if Wally couldn't talk about his life of isolation. Would one of the Tonyas reveal her wacky personality? Would we learn that they were really looking forward to going somewhere that Lauren could speak Swahili? It's like we're all tuned in to Radio Wally every week, and the only song they have in their collection is "Ow, Ow, My Knees."
9:17 PM. Linzes. Nick prattles on about how he and his siblings like some of the people they've met, but we're getting down to the last few teams, so you want that one-in-five chance at a million dollars. That's one of those interviews I've talked about before that they should just do in code. You could just show someone holding up "#54," and you'd know that was the speech about how we're getting down to the brass tacks and after all, this is a race for a million dollars. Tommy tosses in his two cents about how the competition is kicking in for everyone, and you can see it in some of the teams' stress levels. In other words, "#26." The Linzes grab a taxi, and they see that the Bransens and Weavers are still waiting for one.
9:23 PM. Gaghans. Carissa sees the clue and wonders if they have to run to Costa Rica (heh), and Billy deadpans that they do, and that it's 200 miles or so. (Double heh.) They head for the hotel where the Paolos got their cab, and they manage to get one as well. Papa Gaghan interviews in the cab that yesterday, they "had a lot of luck, and almost all of it was bad." And that, what with the boat drivers and such, is very true. Tammy laughs, because it seems like they can't possibly have worse luck than yesterday. Ho-ho-ho! What's that bitter taste in my mouth? WHAT?
Mama Weaver finally lands a cab to the bus station. The Bransens, too. As the Bransens climb in their cab, Carissa reports to Bill that she just saw "the powder blue team" (I believe) getting in their cab. He confirms to her that they want to stay out front and go fast so that they can get on the second bus. The Bransens pile into their tiny cab, and in a shot that appears to be taken from inside a clown car, one of them notes that she's, "like, on Dad's belly." Yeah, that looks like a tight fit. At least Wally is good for something to his put-upon daughters, even if it is just cushioning. I suppose his introductory remark will be that he turned out to be pointier than he thought, and he hopes the Tonyas are not disappointed.
The Paolos get to the bus station and start looking for Tica, the company running their charter. They find the window, and they pull the first ticket from the stack, which has an 11:30 AM time. So, you'll note, they're not leaving until midday the following day. The Gadzookskis will really have to hurry if they're going to raise the money to get to the bus station in only fourteen hours! This will take real ingenuity! Their begging will have to net them probably $1.50 an hour to make that tight deadline! (Proposed: The Gadzooskis could have found enough change in the pay telephones of Panama to make it to the bus station in that period of time, not to mention finding a cab driver willing to give them a ride in return for their mosquito-proof hat and a thong for the wife.) The Paolos vacate to an upstairs area where they can still peer down over a railing at the action near the Tica counter. Mama conspiratorially comments, "I don't want Florida to see us."
The Linzes are the team to arrive at the station. When the Paolos notice them -- "the Cincinnati guys," Mama notes, because these teams genuinely do not call each other by their names, ever, with the exception of "Tammy and Bill" -- DJ helps them find their way to the Tica window. When they've pulled the second of the two 11:30 times, Mama says to the family that they should yell out to whoever comes in to help them find the window, as long as it's not the Weavers. DJ confirms in an interview that they didn't want "the Florida team" to get on their bus. Probably didn't want to repeat the Waffle House experience, not to mention the pre-Waffle-House panic. I have a feeling that once on a bus with those folks is probably enough. "They'd better fend for themselves, because nobody's going to help them," he says. I do believe the Weavers have probably noticed that, but it appears they wouldn't trust anyone enough to accept help anyway. Ouch.
And now, at 9:43 PM, here go the flat-broke Gadzookskis. They take note of the $74 they're being told they don't have. They leave the mat, with Christine hypothesizing that it will take them about $40 for the cab. They head to a resort to do their begging. In an interview, they vow to "use [their] feminine charm." Squick. The first guy they try to flirt with says, "I don't have money. I have...love." Oh, burn. In fairness, they kind of deserved that, since he offered them what they technically acted like they wanted with their "feminine charm." Just love! It's about love! They find some more guys, and these guys have money. Wow, that was close! Only fourteen hours to spare! I think I almost got a nosebleed from the tension there. They manage enough to get a taxi for the bus terminal. Can we officially declare that the mugging thing is a bust, now that we've so firmly established that it never, ever, ever makes any difference, and the only thing is does is force us to watch identical "Pleeeeease?" "Weeeeell, okay" scenes over and over again? Can we?
to the bus station are the Gaghans, followed closely by the Weavers. These teams run into the bus station very close to each other, leaving DJ up on his high perch, trying to figure out how to holler information to Bill and Tammy without giving it to the Weavers. It's all very dramatic, with yelling and running and "Bill, Bill, right there!" But...see, the two times are the same. It makes no difference who wins this little race, and it's obvious. The Weavers, incidentally, win the skirmish, grabbing the first of the two 12:00 times while the Gaghans get the second. I'm certainly not hearing the Significance Alarm off of that little bit of business.
Who did get screwed is the team of Wally and the Tonyas, who are just now pulling up outside. When they get in the terminal, they grab the first of the two dead-last 12:30 PM times. The pinks show up some time later and dutifully claim their time. The teams proceed to congregate upstairs, and the pinks think they still need to be trying to get money. They hit up the Weavers for five dollars, and what they don't show here is what came out on the Insider videos, which was that Mama Weaver apparently expected all sorts of favors and a map in return for her five dollars, to the point where they were tempted to give it back to her. But they didn't. Heh. I mean...it's five dollars, you know? If you don't want to give it to them, don't. If you want to make a deal, make it before the money changes hands. But standing around all, "I gave you five dollars, you owe me" is just not going to win you any friends. It's five dollars. And they have twelve hours before they have to leave, and have I mentioned that it's five dollars?
That night, the teams all have a snooze on the floor of the bus station. Man, I wonder how they passed those twelve hours or so. I have a feeling that there were many games invented during this race, such as Rolled-Up Sock Trash Can Basketball, Rolled-Up Sock Keep-Away, and Texas Hold 'Em With A Three-Rolled-Up-Sock Limit On Raises. At any rate, at 11:30 the morning, the Linzes and Paolos get on the first bus to Costa Rica. People dutifully note that Costa Rica is pretty. Even Alex. Hey, I'm learning to tell the members of Phi Delta Epsi-Linz apart fairly reliably. Good for me. At 12:00, the Gaghans and Weavers leave. By the way, from the picture on the side of every bus, they are apparently traveling on Kanga-Reindeer Lines. The things they're doing with genetic engineering these days. : lengthening Phil's torso.
On the Gaghan bus, Bill explains that giving your kids the opportunity to see really poor people is a "great gift." But he says it better than I did, so it doesn't sound quite so sadistic. Hey, I freely admit that everything sounds worse coming from me. At 12:30, the last bus, carrying the Bransens and Godlewskis, takes off. On the bus, Michelle points out that they are no longer last -- they are tied for last, thank you very much. Oh, Michelle. It's early. You haven't even been thrown into a single Random Order Scrambling Situation yet, and each episode this season has at least, like, five of those.
San Jose, Costa Rica. The Paolos and Linzes get off their bus and go to look for what sounds like it's a public parking area where their vans are hidden. DJ nags Mama Paolo to hurry up as they run for the parking. "I'm comin'," she says, a little whiny from the drive. "So's Christmas," DJ mutters. No! No, I refuse to find him even a little bit funny. I will not! Both of these teams find the parking area and find their cars. They set out to look for the volcano, and the Linzes arrange for a cab driver to lead them there. DJ leans out the window and tells Nick that if the Linzes pay the guy and let them tag along, they'll split the cost. Alliances aren't good for much in this game, but there's an example of good, sensible sharing of the wealth. Cuts everyone's costs, helps you stay in the lead...good plan. Megan tells DJ that, indeed, the guy is going to lead them right to the volcano. See, a lot of times, a stranger who takes you to a volcano is a bad thing, but here, it's a good thing.
When the Gaghans and Weavers arrive, they stay together and don't see anyone around whom they can ask about the location of the parking area. "Carissa? Catch up to Mommy and Daddy, please." "Mom, I have no hands you can hold," Carissa says. Aw. As we see them continue to look, the Bransens and Gadzookskis show up, so that last bus either made substantially better time, the search for the parking took forever, or both. I suspect both. The Godlewskis and Bransens head out, while it looks like the Gaghans and Weavers are still looking. This is also the part where Carissa is seen carrying the world's largest water bottle for no apparent reason. It makes her look positively teeny, because if that were a regular water bottle, she would practically be a Fisher-Price person. Mama Weaver asks God if maybe He can help them find the van. Will He answer? You'll have to wait until after the commercials.
Commercials. If I see one more BP logo, I swear I am going to become a devotee of SuperAmerica.
When we return, the beleaguered Gaghan/Weaver posse is still hunting for the parking, and as they find their way to it, they see the pinks. Ultimately, the Weaver/Gaghan and Bransen/Godlewski groups all meet up at public parking, so they're all taking off at the same time. For obvious reasons, this collision is good news to some and not so good news for others. Also not-so-good news for the Weavers is the fact that this segment requires Mama to drive stick, which she can do, sort of, in that way that means you can do it but there's a lot of jerking and grinding of gears. Hey, I'm talking about driving, so you can get your mind out of the gutter. My favorite part is where the car jolts to a stop, and Rolly mutters, "Brake's working." Man. I'm with Sars. Free Rolly!
Elsewhere, Alex (I have this down pat now, people! I am on fire!) explains how they're following a cab to the volcano. The Paolos are right behind, in remarkably good spirits. Papa Bill notes that he sees a sign for the volcano, so he's going in the right direction, too. Nice headlamp, Papa Bill. Nothing flatters a man of a certain age like an appliance strapped to the noggin. I also think electric pencil sharpeners are kind of dapper. Just a bit of fashion advice, from me to you. YOU'RE WELCOME. The pinks see the same sign, and they're equally happy.
Not so happy? Wally and the Tonyas. They have a weird exchange where they sort of all want to stop and ask directions, but nobody wants to be the one to actually get the hell out of the car and do it. The girls think it's easier if he goes. He insists it isn't. So ultimately, they just keep driving. That doesn't seem like a good solution, people. "You need to get directions." "I think you need get directions." "That's fine, then, we just will not get any directions." That's going to result in a few problems during the playing of this particular game, given that it's kind of a team sport. ("Go tackle that guy." "I think you should tackle him." "Fine, then he can just run by with the ball under his arm." "Fine with me!") (Reproduction of that exchange is prohibited without the express written consent of the Green Bay Packers, by the way.)
Then there's this really weird, bleary-eyed footage of the Weavers in which the pen hanging out of Rachel's mouth totally appears to be coming out of her nose. I can't explain precisely why, but the walrus vibe, she is very powerful. Oh, and then Rachel prays, adding at the end, "And let us beat the other people if it's your will." My sense is that she wants to pray for God to make her win money, but some part of her is conscious of how cheap it sounds. She sort of wants to hedge her bets because maybe God and anyone watching might be offended by her asking for straight-up monetary gain at other people's expense, but she holds out hope that maybe God will make her win if she asks and won't make her win if she doesn't ask. Just in case it's an order-fulfillment system like getting books off Amazon, she doesn't want to miss her shot. So you get that (ironically) ass-covering prayer where we ask to win, but only if God wants us to win. Ick.
The Linzes pull into Volcan Poas, apparently having gotten good service from their tug-cab. When they get up to the gate, however, they discover that it's locked until morning. So...no fooling, they set up three charter buses a half-hour apart that could only arrive at a time at which it could not possibly matter which bus you were on. It's one thing when people take planes and you can kind of tell yourself it's part of the scheduling and part of the way travel works and theoretically somebody could have been delayed or something. But when you hold the teams for more than twelve hours, meaning that any problems up to the point will by necessity be erased, and then you put them on charter buses that can only leave at these three times, and you know that those three times will then get them to the gate after the gate is locked, that's just...stupid. I mean, some of this happens every season, but this is totally ridiculous. Significance Alarm: still silent.
In the Gaghan car, Tammy tells Bill that Carissa is way, way out. And indeed, with her head against Tammy's arm, Carissa is knocked-out asleep in the mouth-hanging-open, totally-undignified sense. She is going to eat a bug, totally. Bill notes that her snoozing is of course no problem, because "she can wake up and go in, like, two seconds." I'll bet. They arrive at the volcano park. Tammy jostles Carissa awake, telling her it's time to move. They're happy to get out, talk to the Paolos and Linzes, and learn that they're the third team. It's a nice moral victory, I guess. are the Godlewskis, then the Weavers, then the Bransens.
The morning, everyone is waiting in their cars for the park to open and, as a Linz tells us, to "mad-dash it in." Papa Bill tells his family to run for it, because he anticipates something first-come first-served. In maybe my favorite upbeat moment of the episode, Carissa pipes up that she hopes that whatever they're doing in the park, it will be free for kids. And she says it very, very triumphantly. "Kids are freeee." Bill dryly agrees, which is his general tone when his children are unintentionally hilarious (see also: "I think they highly discourage it"), that he loves it when kids are free.
The gate finally opens, and all the teams pile out of their cars and run. Now why they were not lined up standing outside the gate instead of lingering in their vehicles, I do not know, except for the general wimpitude of the current race. It appears that it's then a bit of a run from the gate to the clue box at the edge of the volcano. First to arrive at the box are Tommy and Papa Bill. They bring clues back to their families. The clue tells them to find the Doka estate. Phil explains that this is a 17-mile drive to a coffee plantation, and when they get there, they'll get another clue. Oh, and: "Caution: Yield Ahead." Gaghans and Linzes run back toward their cars. Bransens get their clue; Paolos; Weavers; Gadzookskis. The teams all sort of mash together on their way back down the mountain. Shockingly, we hear DJ Paolo tell his mother, of all things, "Ma, easy, take your time." "I'm okay; I can do this," she calls back. Who knew being nice to her would work better than berating her? Oh, that's right. Everyone. Still, it seems so incongruous. Maybe he's not feeling well.
The Linzes are the first to pull out of the parking lot, followed closely by the Weavers. Oh, and Rebecca (I believe, from the voice) pulls out the following gem to describe the majestic, mist-covered volcano they have just visited: "That was the dumbest volcano I've ever been to." You know...those are just bad-mannered people. It's slightly less alarming with Rolly, because he's 14, and frankly he doesn't talk as much as his chitty-chat sisters, but they're just rude, the lot of them.
In the Gaghan car, Bill thanks Carissa for running. As we discussed in their thread this week, my sense is that they spend a lot of time praising Carissa partly because she's little. Billy has a certain hyper-mature gravitas that I think makes it more effective to treat him more like an adult, without all the "Good job, sweetie!" that you give to a nine-year-old. I don't know that he'd even want that. I think he'd be like, "Don't bother me, I'm in show mode!"
The Paolos, not having gotten the memo on how stupid the volcano was, are still talking as they drive away about the "unbelievable view." Well, those are the dumbest volcano-seers I've ever been around. What will they have left to say if they ever see a good volcano, huh? Don't have a quick answer for that one, do you? Wally and the Tonyas, meanwhile, are back at the visitor center or something, trying to get themselves a map to the plantation. (Wally, in my head: "I always need a map. The girls don't need a map….") The Gadzookskis take off in their van, leaving Wally and the Tonyas to get on their way last.
In the Linz car, they discuss the Yield, and how they have to remember to step on the mat and say they're not Yielding anyone. And then they stop and think about how maybe they should Yield someone. Like...the Weavers, for instance. Alex wonders whether they should "just suck it up and be mean for a day." Oh, Mean For A Day. That would be the best game show ever! I would so totally apply. There would be a bonus round with spitting. Call me, Game Show Network!
Speaking of the Yield-able Weavers, they pull over to ask for directions, and the short version is that while they're sitting there, pulled over by the side of the road, everyone passes them. Everyone. Oh, and don't miss the part where Rolly asks the guy who tells them they need to make a turn, "On righto, or lefto?"
"Righto." "Lefto." This is where we find ourselves. And that's not even the bad part. The bad part is that he is the least socially impaired person on the entire team.
At any rate, people pass. The Gaghans, the Paolos, the Gadzookskis, and the Bransens all pass Mama while she asks for directions. (In a narrow sense, the Significance Alarm goes off here, at the 23-minute mark, which isn't bad.) The Paolos and Godlewskis, like the Linzes before them, discuss the possibility of Yielding Mama and the Weaverlings. "Muchas gracias," Mama says as the Weavers finally pull away from the curb in last place. Then, pulling her earlobe tightly, through her little angry half-smiling I-was-raised-not-to-trust-anyone lips, Rebecca snots, "Even though you were no help." Strangers aren't obligated to be able to give you directions to anywhere you want to go. They are, by definition, less dumb than you are, because they're not lost. Be nice. ["I'm the last person to be defending Rebecca, normally, but I've been known to throw in a '…for nothing' in a situation like that." -- Sars]
The Linzes are the first to arrive at Doka Estate, but several other teams are right on their tails. All the teams other than the Weavers leap out of their cars and run to the Yield mat. Phil explains how the Yield works, and I do appreciate the untucked shirt, which saves me from the Phil's-waist weirdness we usually encounter. At any rate, the first team to the Yield mat is the Paolos, and DJ proudly announces that they will indeed be Yielding the Weavers. The Weavers' picture is posted on the Yield sign, with the Paolos' picture down in the "courtesy of" box. Christine, of the pinks, gives DJ the high five. Ooh, there is some broad dislike of that team. The Secret Love Of DJ And Christine, premised on The Non-Secret Distaste For Mama Weaver. The teams then proceed past the Yield mat to the clue box, which gives them...sigh...a Roadblock.
This is one of those straightforward needle-in-a-haystack Roadblocks that we've seen several times, where there's certainly some skill involved, but there's also a huge amount of luck involved. See: chocolates, scarabs, and -- most tragically -- bales of hay. In this one, someone on the team will hunt through 800 pounds of coffee beans for the single red bean in the bunch. Now, think about 800 pounds of coffee beans. A pound of coffee beans is maybe about the size of a big paperback book. Think about 800 paperback books, and then a stack of little coffee beans filling up that entire space. That will not go easy, necessarily.
Mama Paolo takes the Roadblock for her team. Tammy takes it for the Gaghans. Lauren takes it for the Bransens. Megan takes it for the Linzes. Tricia takes it for the pinks. So now, you've got these five women all hunting through piles of beans. They've been given a sort of a spreader thing, sort of like a rake, and at first, it looks like spreading them out with that will be the best solution -- at least that's how it looks to me. Megan Linz is the first to be shown throwing the beans around with her hands, which struck me as really dangerous, because she was tossing them pretty far afield, and could easily have thrown her one red bean so far that she'd never find it.
Then we see Mama Paolo, who I think has it exactly right in that she spread the beans out, but not too much, and then she got on her hands and knees and got down to paw around in them. Tricia Gadzookski is the first to find her bean, despite being the last of the five to get started. It's not pure skill, you know? You can also see that all she's done when she finds it is make eight single rakes out from the center, which looks like a good approach, but she hasn't hunted through any of them yet. She looked to get very, very lucky indeed. With bean in hand, the pinks get a clue that sends them, as Phil explains, to the town of Jaco to find a surf shop and a guy named Javier, because he is the one with their clue.
Mama Paolo finds her bean , and I couldn't help but be happy for her, because if it had taken her as long as...well, as long as it's going to take some mamas, she would have had quite the miserable day. That is a level of yelling none of us would have enjoyed. They get their clue and leave. In the car, they are all full of effusive praise for Mama. Somewhat grudgingly, I approve.
Just then, the Weavers show up at the coffee plantation and make their way to the Yield sign. They see that their picture is plastered up there -- they have been Yielded. In some extremely unbecoming footage, the girls point and giggle at the fact that on their picture, the Paolos are in front of a garbage truck. I certainly hope the Weaver girls never produce any trash that's hauled away by others, because acting like garbage trucks are beneath you when they're all that stands between you and a house filled with your stinking filth would be rather unpleasantly hypocritical. It's like...yeah, the guy who put in your toilet is low for putting in toilets, but you're a queen for pooping in it, you know? They don't stop at the garbage truck, surprisingly enough. Rolly calls one of the Paolos a "retard," and then Rachel punches the picture...it's lovely, really. ["Oh, Rolly. After I defended you?" -- Sars]
Tammy, apparently trying to work with the spreader -- in fairness, that's how Tricia Godlewski found hers in thirty seconds, so I'm not sure I blame her -- is still hunting for her bean. Megan, on her hands and knees, finds hers. The Linzes get the Jaco clue, with all Megan's brothers excitedly congratulating her.
The Weavers are still being very ugly, as the girls pull out a picture of the pinks and say, "I hope those boobs cost a lot!" Not only does their mother not tell them to shut the hell up because the family is in public, among other things, but she joins in. "Since you never wear a bra!" You know, I really hate all the nonsense about who wears what and whose shorts are shorter than whose, but similar to what I said before, if I were going to make comments about women who don't wear bras and whether they're underdressed in some way as a result, I might consider what my own daughters are wearing. It's like...the boobs on the pinks are the speck, and the shorts on the Weaver girls are the plank, you know? I don't particularly have an issue with what any of them are wearing, but they're not dressed for church; why does everybody else have to be? Oh, and Rolly calls Brian Paolo -- the one who doesn't suck -- a "retard" again. Again, his mother does not tell him to shut it. An incredibly weird lady. Apparently, offering "batta-batta-batta" instead of being encouraging is bad. "RETARD!" on the other hand, is perfectly fine. All righty, then. I'd better make a note, because believe me, I will never remember that.
For some reason, as the Linzes pass, the Weavers decide they're going to stick it to everybody else by...singing, which just makes them look stupid. I have no idea what about this they think is going to be effective. It is, however, very Waffle-House-parking-lot, which I wouldn't keep bringing up if they wouldn't keep repeating the behavior. What about this hoedown dance that appears to be the only one Rebecca knows is supposed to make other people think she's feeling carefree? I mean, they're not going to fool anyone into thinking they're fine, because everybody already knows this is the particular variety of weird they are, that they'd react this way if frustrated. Megan calls back over her shoulder, "Good luck; it's hard as hell." "Yeah, right," Mama says, setting the same good example as always. What? Megan hasn't done anything to them. What ever happened to cheek-turning? Can't we assume that you could share a friendly moment even if at other times, you've had friction? Yeesh. Mama and the girls agree that everyone is "ganged up" on them. Wonder why that might happen.
Tammy and Lauren are still looking. Tammy's got the spreader, Lauren's on her hands and knees. Lauren finds the bean. Ack! She gets up and runs. It's not that I dislike Wally and the Tonyas, but...yikes. The Bransens leave. Over to the side, Bill and Billy have a discussion while watching Tammy. "Oh, this is so frustrating," Papa says. "It is," Billy agrees. "And you can't do anything to help, either. Yelling doesn't help her," Papa goes on. "Maybe...maybe it makes it worse," Billy offers, deep in thought. Papa agrees that he thinks it does make it worse. "Just stay what you're doin'," Papa says to Mama. "You can dooo eeet," Billy yells, in a voice people associated with lots of different things (so don't email me!), but I associated with the guy on the Gazelle exercise machine thingy who appears on that Geico commercial. I'm pretty sure it's not that, but it reminded me of that.
As the Bransens run by and try to say something encouraging, Mama Weaver talks loudly over them, insisting that no, everyone's "ganging up." She is not helping. Wally doesn't give up. "You'll pick it up," he encourages. "Yeah, it's not you," Mama mutters dismissively. Now, as far as we've seen, the Bransens have not done one thing to them. Their problems have been with the Paolos and Linzes. Wally has enough problems being ostracized by his own family without being ostracized by these people. Being rude to everyone else is only going to isolate the Weavers more. Mama talks about how this may be the end for them. Oh, I wish, I so wish.
Commercials. Zathura. Learn it, live it, develop the ability to pronounce it.
Back at the Yield, the Weavers are still bitching. Mama explains that they're "responsible to a higher authority." (God: "[Looking around.] Me? Oh, don't bring me into this. I made garbage, too, you know. And garbage trucks. All of those are My work. And breasts, both real and fake. And babies. Your God is an awesome God.")
Tammy still...can't...find...the...bean. "Hope she knows what the color red is," Billy mutters, venting his frustration only to his father. "I don't think I have a red bean in here!" Tammy says, more in surprise than in anger. Carissa updates her dad that a team is waiting at the Yield mat. Billy looks out and regards his mother and, more for the camera than for her, because he's got a giant streak of ham in him, says, "Come on, Mom...you're under aaaabsolutely no pressure." Snerk.
The pinks are on the road to Jaco. The Paolos are right behind, so Christine looking out the back and DJ looking out the front are communicating that they don't know where they're going, prompting Mama P to tell DJ that maybe he doesn't want to tell everyone their business all the time. DJ tells her that his attitude is to do whatever it takes to get to the final three, and then in the final three, that's when everybody is for himself. Not an entirely bad strategy. More humane than I'd expect from, you know, him. I refuse to like him, though, although there are moments in this episode when I admit I was tempted.
Meanwhile, in the Linz car, the boys are hassling/adoring Megan over her performance with the coffee bean. She gets the news, "You are now an official Linz boy!" "Here are your golden balls!" Tommy offers, to great hilarity in the car. And as fratty as that is, it was a little bit funny, too. Especially since she, who is suddenly a little bit awesome, says very severely, "Twenty-one years, guys. Twenty-one years I was looking forward to getting my balls." I got a little bit fond of them, right there, just because that was so shticky, and when you know you're doing shtick, it's a lot easier to take than when you act like you think it's clever. Besides, if they're going to have this dynamic, I'd rather they make it explicit and give her a role, rather than just not listening to her and making that the only part of it she has anything to do with.
The Yield sand runs out in the Weaver hourglass, so they are into the coffee Roadblock, where Tammy still has no bean. Boo! Rachel goes, starts into her pile of beans, and is ordered by her mother to begin praying. Gross. I'm sure they only want their bean if it's God's will. Boo, boo!
The Gadzookskis pull in somewhere to ask for directions, but DJ keeps driving, figuring it's better to ask for directions after they get into town. The quest for directions isn't so successful anyway, except in that the pinks are told to keep going. Up ahead, Brian is the Paolo to exit the car and walk up to a guy who looks like he's been drinking straight Cuervo for about a hundred years. He asks the guy if he knows where the Roca Loca surf shop might be. The guy, whose accent is vaguely from the southern part of the U.S., tells Brian that this way [thumb over shoulder] is the "main drag." DJ starts to hassle Brian from the car that if it's going to take this long, they have to get moving. Brian keeps asking long enough to find out how far the main drag is. "Maybe dos kilometers," the guy finally drawls after a long delay. At least we know he's been drinking Cuervo long enough to acclimate himself to the metric system. Brian returns to the car.
You will not be surprised to hear that by pushing the beans around very briefly with her spreader, Rachel finds her red bean. So however Tammy can be faulted for not looking on her hands and knees, of the other five teams, two found it while pushing with the spreader and three found it on their hands and knees, and the two who found it with the spreader were the ones who looked like they found it almost right away. I'm sure Tammy missed the bean once or twice, but there's just an enormous amount of luck involved with this task, too, so...you never know. You can see that Tammy has her entire stack spread out in a thin layer, so it's not like she wasn't thorough. She got the butt end of this Roadblock, as somebody pretty much always does.
At any rate, the Weavers get to take off . "Back to the ground!" Tammy says, and she gets back on her hands and knees. On the way to the car, the Weavers talk about wanting to beat the Paolos. Yeah, good luck with that. Meanwhile, Tammy still can't figure out where the bean could be. Carissa picks up on Tammy's fairly offhand remark from earlier and says, "Mom says there's none in her pile!" Bill takes his hands away from his eyes (heh) long enough to say, as calmly has he possibly can, "There is one, Carissa, I promise. Don't get frustrated." Hoo boy. You know I love that little kid, and I still think I might have snapped at her right there. Suddenly, Tammy says, "Ah, I finally found the darn thing!" She gets up and runs over to get their clue. In last place, they head for Jaco. Sigh. "I'm so sorry about that," Tammy says as they climb in the van, and Bill tells her not to worry about it. "You did the best you could," he says. And Carissa says, "Mom, only if it was a two-person Roadblock, I could've helped you!" Aw. Aw!
The Paolos and Bransens arrive close together at Roca Loca. Remember, the Gadzooskis stopped for directions, but we're not sure where the Linzes are. The Bransens are the first to get to the shop, find Javier, and get their clue. It's a Detour, and as Phil and his green shirt explain, the choices are known as Relic and Ripe. In Relic, you go through the jungle on a series of rickety hanging bridges while you look for a set of relics. You find your relics, you bring them back to the archeologist, and you get your clue. In Ripe, you go to a banana plantation where you gather up 15 bushels of bananas and load them on hangers along a set of tracks. Then, you pull the bananas back along a series of pulleys. The Bransens choose the Relic option, while the Paolos choose the Ripe.
Ah, here are the Linzes. They get the Detour clue and they choose Relic.
Elsewhere, the Gaghans find themselves a Fern, whom they bring along in the car. "I am feeling really good about this," says Papa Bill, because...what else is he going to say?
Godlewskis find Javier. Relics for them. In the car, however, they get into a gabble-bickerfest over the driving that Sharon is doing. When Michelle makes one too many smart comments, Sharon decides that Michelle can just do the driving herself if she knows so much, so she actually wastes time right in the heart of the leg piling herself out of the car all snotty so she and Michelle can switch places. What I like even less is that after they make the switch, Sharon sits and pouts, continuing to passive-aggressively suggest that Michelle is doing it wrong, BUT THAT'S FINE, and thus totally getting herself lost to spite her face...or something. There's a lot of this going around on this episode.
The Paolos, temporarily a model of family harmony, are looking for the plantation. They drive up and see that nobody else has, at least up to this point, chosen this Detour option. So that's disorienting in that way nobody likes. When they get back to the loading area and start on the bushels of bananas, they find that a bushel of bananas weighs a honking ton. Mama says that she can't lift them -- and I'll tell you right now, I'm certainly sure I couldn't. The boys can't even lift them alone except to carry them for a couple of feet. Tony, however? Who's been picking stuff up for a living forever? He's fine. It would be interesting to see whether the "Ha, ha, garbage truck!" Weavers could do it. We will, of course, not find out.
The Tonyas, meanwhile, are wondering what a relic actually is. "It's like a artifact, you know, a little thing from the past?" Wally explains. A bunch of archeologists somewhere start to take exception to this sloppy layperson's definition, and then they're like, "Well...okay, yes, actually." Meanwhile, the Linzes note that the Bransens are just ahead of them heading for the relics. They don't say so, but I suspect this is good news for the boys, because they can enjoy the asses of the Tonyas when it goes that way. These two teams arrive almost together and run for the route. They start across the bridges. The Tonyas jog across the very high bridge as the rain falls hard, but Wally isn't able to run this part, and the Linzes are stuck behind him.
Now, the Weavers get to Roca Loca, and two of them keep saying, "Xavier? Xavier?", while they other one keeps saying, "JAY-vier," like she's correcting them. So it's like, "Xavier?" "JAY-vier." "Xavier?" "JAY-vier." They'd be really funny if they were doing this on purpose. It calls to mind a really funny story I heard once about a nurse calling a patient in the doctor's office, going, "Jesus? Jesus?" (You know, pronounced in the English-language way.) And this guy comes up to her and sort of shyly says, "It's 'hay-SOOS.'" And she says, rather impatiently, "Well, it says Jesus on here." At any rate, the Weavers collect their clue and choose the Relic option on the Detour.
The Paolos continue hauling bananas, and it continues to be true that everybody else has to work in teams, but Tony can throw those suckers up on one shoulder.
Bransens and Linzes at the Relics at last. They pick them up, and...apparently, these relics are either made of hollow chocolate like bunnies at Easter, or they're made of pumice, or they're made of some kind of space-age foam, because they look to weigh about a pound and a half apiece, despite being the size of a person. Now that, I could lift.
The Gaghans (sniff) find Roca Loca. As they part ways with their Fern, in one of my favorite moments, Tammy thanks the Fern, and then Billy comes over, independently of his parents, and says, "Gracias," and holds out his hand to shake. That's how you turn out to be a person who doesn't snot about how somebody didn't help you with directions as much as you'd like, Rebecca. Might want some maturity lessons from the 12-year-old.
The Paolos finish the banana task. And I hate to admit it, but I was like..."Yay!" Because seriously, they were good this leg. And they didn't argue too much, and they seemed to be no longer working at cross-purposes, which was part of what made them so hard to watch in other weeks. "Dad, you're a frickin' monster," Brian says, meaning "monster" in the good way. In an interview, an astonishingly appealing DJ says, "I understand fully what my dad does every day. If I tried to lift a garbage can, I can't, I can't do it. When he picked up those bananas, I don't have that strength. I cannot do what my father does." And I'll give him props for the fact that not every guy that age can say "I cannot do what my father does" and totally mean it and mean it exactly this way. I still hate watching him and his mother yell at each other, but there may be...a ray of hope. A small ray. A rayette. A ray-ito. The jury is still out. Oh, quiet.
Anyway, the Paolos are the first to pull the clue that has them drive to the pit stop. As Phil explains, it's about a 20-mile ride to the town of Quepos, where there's a beach they'll need to get to. Last family to check in may (sniff) be eliminated. The Paolos leave -- notably, with very little idea of where they are in the standings, since nobody was at the Detour with them.
The Bransens return with their relics just as the Godlewskis show up to look for theirs. Wally and the Tonyas take the pit stop clue and go. The pinks pass the exiting Linzes on the way into the jungle. The Linzes leave as well. Now, the Weavers have arrived at the relics. Time is getting compressed, as the pinks return with their relics as the Weavers are leaving. Off the pinks go toward the pit stop in fourth place, assuming they can get into the car without arguing over how to adjust the seats.
And here are the Gaghans, in their car, looking for the Relic option. "Are we allowed to go fast on this road?" Carissa asks. "You can't go too fast," Bill says. "Come on, Dad, is that all you got?" Billy wants to know. As they're approaching, the Weavers are turning in their relics and getting the pit stop clue. The teams actually run into each other out near where the vans are parked, and the chat leaves the Gaghans pretty sure they're in last, but Papa Bill encourages his family not to give up. And as Mama Weaver tries to leave with her Weaverlings, she finds that the car is stuck in the mud. (God: "[Whistles innocently.]") Meanwhile, the Gaghans are making their way across the high bridges. "This is cool," Carissa observes. Unsurprisingly, she declares that it's scary because of how wobbly it is, but openly bounces as hard as possible to make it shake more.
In a quest to make it look like this might be close, the crafty editing team now shows us the Weavers pushing their van out of the mud and having no luck. The Gaghans find and pick up their relics. "How come I got the big one? I want the dog!" Papa teases as they walk out. "Well, I can't carry that!" Carissa says in exaggerated indignation, in reference to the relic her father is carrying that's about twice as tall as she is. This makes her dad laugh. And out in the grass, Mama Weaver has yet another transportation-inspired breakdown (week: the Weavers freak out on roller skates), talking about how she can't do it, blah blah blah. I wish I believed this was all going to matter.
Commercials. Oh, let's just get on with it.
Anyway, Mama Weaver is bitching about how she's "sick of doing stuff [she] can't do," whine whine, and then she just kind of...drives the van out of the mud. All at once. And then she keeps driving, and it's not even clear where she's going, and her kids are running after her, and for a minute, it looks like this might get especially awesome as she deserts her children in Costa Rica to run off in a production-provided van with Xavier JAY-vier, but it never does. Instead, they hop in the car and they're on their way. Boo!
The Gaghans bring their relics back to the archeologist. They read the pit stop clue. As they walk to the car, Carissa says, "It would be great if Phil says, 'Gaghan Family, you're team number five'!" Well, I certainly think it would. "Somebody could have gotten really lost," Tammy observes, and it's completely true. Knowing that they even crossed paths with the Weavers, it's not outside the realm of possibility, so they're right to keep burning until the end. Also, it increases the suffering all around, and what's not to like about that?
The Paolos reach Quepos. Wally and the Tonyas and the Linzes are in town, too. All of these teams jockey to get to the beach and get parked, and the Paolos are the first to get out of their car and run. They all start hassling Mama P to go faster. It turns out that the Paolos parked farther away than they needed to, so the Bransens and Linzes catch them in their cars while the Paolos are running, so these two teams get parked and give chase on foot. Three teams, running for the pit stop. Eventually, the Linzes see the Paolos up ahead and desperately want to pass them, but Megan says she can't run anymore. There's a brief shot of Alex running with Megan on his back, but that's not a good arrangement for them -- she's not itty-bitty, and he's not that powerful, so he puts her down.
First to hit the mat are...the Paolos. Who, you quickly realize, are only sure they're not last, because they know the Linzes are behind them. They are quite surprised to hear that they're first. And their prize this week is that each of the four of them has won their choice of a Segway, a Vespa, an ATV, or a jet ski. Hasn't the Segway become self-parody yet? I literally only know the Segway as part of jokes. Anyway, there's a lot of very genuine hugging of Mama P, and that's good, at least. DJ interviews that his mother has "exceeded [his] expectations." He even says, "She's proved me wrong." And for him? That's pretty impressive. I still refuse to like him, though. Tony even throws in an interview about loving his wife. It's like Stop Taking Mama For Granted Week at Casa Paolo. I still don't like all the fighting, but I'll admit that my dislike of them is not what it once was.
The Linzes are in, and they're happy to be team number two, under the circumstances. Bransens are right behind them, so they're team number three. Phil gives the Tonyas a little bit of a hard time about how they smell. Then the Gadzookskis come into town and land in fourth place.
So...now, it's Weavers and Gaghans. My most despised team and my most beloved. Oh, why does it always come to this? And why do I almost always get hosed? In the Gaghan car, Billy asks whether they're probably in last place. "We're racing to the finish line," Bill tells him. "That's all I want to see from you, all right?" Carissa turns around and announces to her brother, "Winners never quit; quitters never win." Oy. I bet he wanted to pull her hair for that one. Papa tells them that's exactly right, as the spot-on editors shift to Tammy's face. Because she is the one who will break your heart clean in two right now. Because she knows they're in last place, and she knows that they lost it on something that she was doing. I don't at all think it was necessarily her fault, because they'll never know what would have happened if Bill had done it, and it certainly wouldn't necessarily have gone better if the kids had done it, but she was in the pilot seat when it went bad, so you know how she feels. People feel bad enough when that happens to them with a regular teammate, but with your kids? When, among other things, you're just having a ridiculously good time that you aren't ready to stop having? Come on. You know that would be horrible.
At any rate, she stares out the window as Bill asks the kids, "Are we quitters, or are we winners?" And you can hear the kids sort of chirp "winners," in that nice way where you're not old enough that you have to think too hard about what a really crap lesson that is sometimes, but Tammy is full-on mom as she mutters, "Winners." Don't cry in front of the kids, don't cry in front of the kids, don't cry in front of the kids. It's all over her face. Damn show gets me every time. Probably for the last time this season, but still.
The Weavers drive into Quepos. The Gaghans drive into Quepos. Phil waits at the mat. The Weavers run. The Gaghans run. And, to the mat, as you know is going to happen, here come the Weavers. Who are obnoxious hypocrites, but who found the red bean faster than Tammy, so what are you going to do? Anyway, they're team number five, so bully for them.
My sense is that the Gaghans maybe counted cars when they parked, because they walk along pretty casually with Bill commenting on how beautiful the sunset is. "Dad," Carissa asks, holding Papa Bill's hand, "can we go here on vacation once?" "I think we're going to come back here on vacation," he says. "I love this place." That's the kind of detail this show has always been so good about including, you know? "Hold your head up high, Billy," Tammy says quietly as they jog down toward the mat. "Come on, peanut," Bill says. Heh. My sister calls one of her kids "peanut," too. They step up to the mat, and they're last, and they're eliminated. And Papa's got one hand on each kid, and Carissa's arms sort of flop in frustration at her sides. Papa leans down and gives each of the kids a kiss, saying, "Good job. I'm so proud of you guys." Tammy does the same. "Good job, good job. You guys did an excellent job." And of course, Bill and Tammy have their usual smooch.
Oh, man. This is where they show Carissa trying not to cry -- and she's not doing it in the fake way where you're not really trying not to, either. She's really trying not to, by putting her hands up to her face in this really odd, awkward, wonderful gesture. And puffing out her cheeks...she's really seeing if she can pull off not doing it. Don't cry in front of Mom and Dad, don't cry in front of Mom and Dad, you know? ["I think she was more trying not to cry in front of Phil." -- Sars] "I'm so proud of Tammy, I'm so proud of Billy, I'm really proud of Carissa," Bill says. As Carissa continues to try not to cry, and not that successfully, Billy gets preoccupied with, I'm pretty sure, looking at her, although it's hard to tell just what he's doing. And then she's handling her cheeks again, like maybe she can physically restrain her face from squinting up and it will keep her from crying. And then Billy says, "We ran this real hard, and we're gonna go out with our heads held high." His parents' kid, that one. Phil tells Carissa that she's "the youngest person ever to have come this far on The Amazing Race," and now she is doing a different trying-not-to-cry thing that involves holding her mouth very tight and blinking a lot. This child is definitely trying to kill me.
"And you're never going to forget this, you're always going to remember this experience," says Phil, as she nods and blinks and yes-yes-yeses. Bill voices over that it's particularly hard seeing your kids get really upset with the loss and so forth. He says, though, that he wants the kids to take away perseverance and optimism and never giving up.
Stupid red coffee bean.
Executive Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer.
week: Will Tony Paolo drown? Right here, where his family is getting happier all of a sudden? That would be kind of sad, even to me.