CR = Sorpresas!

The wheels on the bus go round and round...

2007-08-02T21:41:00.000-07:00

Day 22, Saturday, July 28

Our boat out of here is leaving at 6, so Beth and I get up at 5 to pack and throw away anything we are not taking home. Lugging the suitcase to the boat isn’t quite the chore it has been, perhaps because I know I only have to do it a couple more times. Neither one of us is hungry, so we get to the dock very early. Never mind, the boat leaves soon enough, and the boat ride isn’t too bad. It is a bit cold, but my mind is focused on getting back to San Jose.

I listen to Sarah Harmer on the bus ride back to Cariari. It’s good to reconnect with her. There is a tour boat leaving the dock as we arrive, but I don’t feel bad: I did more than enough here. We’ve done tours; we’ve been adventurous. Now it is time to go home.

The bus from Cariari to Guapiles is not a pleasant experience. The roads are a bit holey (haha), and I feet a bit sick most of the time. I drift most of the bus ride back to San Jose, but heaven knows I am just glad to be there. Arriving in San Jose is a breath of semi-fresh air. When did San Jose become home? I don’t know, but I think I love it. We lug our bags to the hotel Pangea, set up by Beth’s awesome skills, and rejoice. We are done carrying these bags. From here we get a car to the airport. But that’s not till tomorrow.

We leave our bags at Pangea and head out to the San Pedro mall. As we walk, we talk about all the reasons we’re going to miss Costa Rica, and more specifically, how we’ll miss San Jose. It’s really grown on us. At the mall, we go to Wendy’s and the book store and just walk around. I get some Pops sometime later, before we finally decide to head back to Pangea.

Less than five seconds off the bus, Beth stops dead in her tracks. I turn around, but she just shakes her head, laughs a little and starts walking again. “I just got pick pocketed,” she remarks, as if the idea were little more than an annoying prank. My eyes get huge, and I struggle to keep up. “What?!” But although Beth is a bit upset (she lost like $40 in colones), she seems somewhat detached. I think she is just ready to go home. Ditto para mi.

Back at Pangea, we get the key to our room, and Beth makes a call to her parents to cancel her debit card (which also got picked up). Then we nap for a bit. As I come to, I hear Beth chatting with the girls in our room. There is a teacher who seems eager to get home, a Princeton student who has been down here teaching soccer, as well as a few other interesting characters. These girls are hardcore, and I just think: could I do this all by myself? Would I have made it all this time and way without Beth? Probably not. Besides that, what am I doing with this traveling? I’m bettering myself. But what am I giving back? With this trip: nothing.

I take my computer out to the lobby to charge it and to type up Monday’s blog. After a bit, I wander up to the second floor where there is a bar and internet. I put up Monday’s blog and return some e-mails. As I have been the last couple of days, I am again very aware of how ready I am to be home. I’m getting hungry, so I go downstairs to collect Beth for dinner. I chat with this high school girl for awhile before we eat, and then we settle in for some chicken fajitas and cloud picture taking a la Beth.

Our plan for the morrow is to go back to Cartago and go to church – only the second time we’ll go since we’ve been here. I loved my last trip to Cartago, and I really want Beth to see it. However, we can’t find mass times on the internet, so we decide we’ll just get up at eight and head over to see what we see. By this time it is ten, and I am exhausted, so I head back to the room.

I am peeling! Uck, I feel like an onion. This makes sense, as I am beginning to sour a bit. I need to perk up and enjoy my last day here!

Despite my sleepiness, I start Tuesday’s blog and listen to music for a bit before crashing. But even that comes sooner than expected.

Ninjas on the half shell... turtle power!

2007-07-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

Day 21, Friday, July 28

Two days. Two days. Two days.

Today we are going to see turtles. That’s about the extent of our planning. I wake up and read for a bit. It’s nice to not have to run to go on a tour. I am so ready to go home. No, that thought is not random; it has been invading my mind since we got here yesterday. It’s not that I don’t like Tortuguero... it’s just hot... and, well, I don’t need a reason. I want to go home. I miss people. And it’s so close!

We get a knock on our door as we’re getting ready, and an older lady tells us that even though we made our reservation for three nights, a big group is coming tomorrow, and all the rooms are full. So we can only stay through tonight. What? Well, there is nothing we can do, so we just pay for our two nights and set out to find another place to stay. We walk down to the Hotel Mariscar, where I attempt to set up a reservation with a man in a hammock who isn’t too particularly interested in our presence. That settled, we walk to a little bakery I read about for breakfast. The very nice owner sits us out back under the shade of some plants (for which we are grateful – the heat is already oppressive, despite the early hour).

Over a breakfast of pancakes and fruit (Beth orders gallo pinto y huevos) we discuss our options. What else are we going to do here for two days? We are going to go turtle watching tonight, but what else do we want to do? I really want to get souvenirs, and I’m not positive I have enough money for a day tour... and I’m not sure I want to do one. Beth isn’t either, and when I mention that being kicked out of our room might be a sign to go back to San Jose, she perks up. That really does sound like a good idea. I mean, Tortuguero is nice, but we know San Jose. We know what we can do, and it’s cooler. Suddenly our spirits our up – we’re going home! And strangely enough, San Jose has become home. I mean, we’re really really ready to go home, but coming back to San Jose for our last day here is the next best thing.

So we walk down the street and book our turtle tour for tonight. He tells us that they do a lottery for the times, so he won’t know what time we are going until six. So we’ll come back at six. We walk to an internet place in order to make reservations at Pangea (another hostel in San Jose that my book raves about) for tomorrow night. The internet is way slow and kicks us off twice, but we are able to make the reservation. And that’s all that matters. So the plan now is to take the boat back to San Jose tomorrow; hang out there; go to Cartago for church Sunday morning (I want Beth to see the beautiful Basilica); go to the mall for the afternoon; then airport and home! Yay! We’re excited.

We head back to the room, fully intending to nap, but instead get engaged in conversation with a nice woman from Seattle. She is forty-one, but she feels much younger. We end up just hanging out on the benches outside our rooms and talking. We talk about kids (she is a social worker): Fact: Only 100 children per year are kidnapped nationally by strangers. The rest are domestic cases (moms and dads taking kids). We talk about experience versus stuff people, and how they don’t work well in relationships. She’s not just spouting crap here people; I know. It’s hard to appreciate each other when you don’t appreciate the same things. Then we talk about travel and how the experience and desire to travel has a lot to do with how you grow up. I love traveling, but it doesn’t come easy to me... or Beth. We both grew up in households that did very little traveling (the most I got were my very frequent within state trips for baseball tournaments). For me, this has only made my desire grow, but it has made the reality a bit jarring. Our Seattle friend grew up in a family that constantly moved (like many military families), so she says that she doesn’t know any other way. To stay in one place is an adventure for her (she has lived in Seattle three years – the longest she has lived in one address in her 41 years).

Nuestra nueva amiga sale por la playa, so we gather our stuff and go buy some souvenirs! I know this is silly, but I actually get really excited buying people gifts. I think about what it will be like when I give it to them, how they will react. That’s probably why I am afraid to actually watch people open them. What if they hate them? I know I shouldn’t even care... but I like to give. And today I realize that I get to give a lot. I have a bit more money than I thought, so I buy a few gifts that I hadn’t anticipated getting to buy. It’s pretty exciting.

After shopping, we hit up the same little bakery we went to for breakfast for some ice cream (me) and tres leches (Beth). It is so very hot here. After enjoying our break from the sun, I pick up a couple more things, and we go back to the room. I hang out on Beth’s bed (it is under the fan) and knit (which is strange to do in the heat) and read while she naps. When the hour hits six, we go check our turtle time, which apparently isn’t until 10. So we have four hours to kill. Okay.

So how about some dinner? Well, neither one of us is hungry, so we go back to the playground like dock and talk (while I knit). So here is what has been going through my mind, and Beth and I have talked about this, so I don’t feel mean putting it here. I’m tired of Beth in all the ways you get tired of someone you’ve spent a whole week with alone. Little things are bothering me, things I don’t need to be specific about as they are things that don’t usually bother me at home. Even though they bother me a lot here, I know they are not important, not in the long run. I’d rather be here with her than with anyone else I suppose, but it is tiring nonetheless. We are both soooo ready to be home, and with our desperation, it actually speaks very well for our friendship that we haven’t gotten in a fight (Beth says that she doesn’t think we could get in a fight, and she may be right). But we need to get home soon. ;p

Finally hunger does come, and we walk to another place my book recommends, the Buddah Cafe, for pizza and coke. It is a nice little tourist place, and though it takes a long time to get our food, our vegetarian pizza is delicious (no sausage and broccoli – gross Hannah). My favorite part of the restaurant is this huge poster right behind our table. It is a love letter to nature and a pledge to cherish it always. But the wording; I just wish I could remember all of the phrases. But here are two: “I want to give an acorn an orgasm,” and “I want to stroke a shark, but maybe I’ll just wave hello from the shore.” I love it.

After dinner, we go back to room to change, and I knit for a bit. Then, at 9:45, we walk back to the tour place to meet our group. From here we begin our walk through the National Park to see turtles. Unfortunately, se me he olvidado mis gafas, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to see them. But I should not have worried. These turtles are very large. Our guide speaks Spanish, but he has a friend of his there translating. Most of the time I catch what our guide says, but there are times I am thankful for the translation. Our group consists of two inquisitive Irish girls (one originally from Kenya – she has cool turtle stories from there) whom ask many questions to our great benefit and a German family whose daughter is interested but whose son spends most of the time sleeping on the sand. And he’s not little. If your ten year old is going to lay down with twenty people around trying to discreetly (and sometimes not so discreetly) watch turtles, leave him at home.

The first turtle we see has already laid her eggs and is in the process of camouflaging the nest. We watch her fill for a while before our guide moves us to the side so another group can look. Beth read in some book that once you see the turtles you have to leave, so I’m thinking... is that it? Do we have to leave now? Thankfully, we don’t. Instead our guide tells us all about the turtles that inhabit this island; never have I heard such a tragic tale. Firstly, there are the predators that feed on eggs. In Tortuguero the turtles face a natural predator of jaguars and a less natural predator of dogs. I have come to truly detest stray dogs. They are everywhere in Costa Rica, and here they pose a special threat. There is a law here that all dogs must be kept on a chain or a rope, but as our guide so obviously points out, few people actually take care of their dogs. It makes me angry.

So, obviously hatching is a feat. Then they have to make it to the ocean. Here waiting for the little ones are not mothers and fathers, ready to show them the world, but rather sharks and other predatory fish, ready to show them their stomachs. Adversity number two.

Number three? Well, think about the facts. With all the trouble of just growing, it is little wonder that only one in a hundred survives to adulthood. Can you imagine? I mean, it makes since as to why they lay so many eggs, and those who survive truly have earned the right to live. Which makes this last test so awful. Turtles have a lifespan roughly like that of humans; some can live to be in their eighties. Yet few do. For the last and greatest predators of this great and endangered species is us. You saw it coming, but that makes the truth no less harsh. Humans poach these giant turtles (which can grow to be a meter in circumference and close to 800 lbs for green turtles) for their shells and the meat. Should you be the one in a hundred to survive and then die of old age; well, it seems that is tragically unimaginable.

Apparently there is another turtle on the beach that has been digging her nest, and we actually get to see her giving birth. She certainly seems to be sweating it, each breath short and labored as she contracts again and again. Our guide says that while she is in this trance, we can lift her flipper softly without disturbing her. I love this opportunity, and I am relieved she is not bothered by our presence. But watching this gets me thinking: is it harder to shove more than a hundred little eggs out of a rather small hole or one very large offspring? I mean, go turtle, but damn... poor humans. Giving birth... I’ll happily wait to enjoy that miracle.

Just as we are about to leave the park, the turtle that was covering her nest when we first arrived descends down the beach to the water. She moves slowly, pushing along the sandy surface with every last reserve of her strength. We all crowd behind her, a paparazzi sans cameras, watching as she gains the sea. The waves grow around her until finally, with one great tide, she disappears beneath the water. When the waves clear, she is gone. And now it is time to leave.

We talk with our new Irish friends as we head back to our hotel and say our goodbyes at the split. I am so thrilled to get to take a shower when we get back that I barely notice how late it is. But I do notice that I am peeling. I feel like I’m losing all my color – whether it is from fading or flaking off. Beth says that I’m still pretty dark underneath, but I don’t think so. It may sound silly, but I’m rather afraid that I have gotten this dark just to shed it all before I go home... or my birthday. It’s hard for me to get dark; I wanna keep it! Okay, wining done.

I climb into bed, but there is no way I can sleep. So instead I type up my day and try to let my mind wander. It is after one, and we have to get up at five to leave, so I really should sleep. And though it takes quite a few daydreams and deep rooted conversations, sleep does finally come.

No, I just learned my Spanish for fun.

2007-07-29T17:06:00.000-07:00

Day 20, Thursday, July 26

So. Last night I got to know the people in our dorm room. There are a couple of guys from Texas, one of which asked me to charge his iPod. This isn’t a big deal... except that it was the closest I came to mingling with my fellow travelers. Go me. Anywho, it’s a little weird that most of the people in our dorm are guys, but this doesn’t really bother me. It’s just one of the guys. The one that is sick... and smells of alcohol... and spends all night coughing and running in and out of the room... and I have to get up at 4:55. Needless to say, I’m in a pretty foul mood come morning. Thankfully, I can pack very quickly if I need to, so we are out of the room and the hostel by 5:30. Goodbye Tranquilo, hello Tortuguero.

We walk to the CocaCola station (grr... suitcase... grr) and buy our tickets to Cariari. The bus there isn’t all that long (about two hours), so I just read. Then we take another bus to Pavona, where we catch a boat to the coast. The boat trip lasts FOREVER... and it’s hot... really hot... and the river is brown. It’s interesting, and I would enjoy it a lot if this was our first week here, but now... I’m just tired. Finally we pull up to Tortuguero (after making a dozen stops), and I am actually pretty surprised. I was expecting something a little more like Bocas – a small town spread around a center street. Instead, Torteguero is smaaaaaaall town America. The “roads” are dirt paths just wide enough to walk, a reality I love despite the fact that I have to carry my suitcase down them. Our hotel isn’t too far from the dock though, and soon we are dropping our stuff in a small room at the Hotel Aracari. And the room is small... and hot. Actually, it’s just really hot here. I know we’ve been spoiled with our San Jose weather, but now we realize: this is what it will be like in Arkansas. But in AR we have air conditioning. :)

We’re a bit hungry, so we walk down the path to a little soda/bar and order some gallo pinto. Oh gallo pinto. How I’ll miss thee. Beth swears she’s going to learn to make it, so perhaps I won’t have to miss it too much. :) The owner keeps talking to us in English, which is the same problem we had in Panama. They’re so overpopulated with tourists that they just assume we won’t know Spanish. I try to speak Spanish back, but when they talk to me in English, it catches me off guard, and I end up sounding rather ridiculous.

After lunch we decide to take care of this tiredness issue. Only I’m not a good napper. So I sleep for like three hours, and when I wake up, I’m more tired than before. We want to pay for the room but can’t find our dueña, so we wander into town to have a look-see. We find a grocery store and get some water and some more bread. Then we browse some souvenir shops. Beth hasn’t bought many gifts yet, and I have a few more I need, so we plan to come back tomorrow. I talk to a nice lady (who is so thankful we speak Spanish!) at a souvenir stand and make a note to come back tomorrow.

A little further down the path through town we find an area that is slightly developed. Hay muchas turistas aqui as well as some rather creepy giant birds on poles. The whole area reminds me of a colorful playground, but it is a lovely place to watch the sunset, which Beth and I do. We talk for awhile, and I pleasantly reflect on the fact that Beth and I haven’t killed each other yet. In the words of Beth: that’s always good. :)

Back in the room – I eat some dinner (can you guess what?) and we watch an episode of Ugly Betty. The episode we watch ends up being a bit depressing, but it does excite me about the coming season. Then I take a shower. Our bathroom light doesn’t work, so I have to leave the door open, and it still creeps the hell out of me. The shower is big, and I don’t like water and dark. They do not mix. Thankfully the light comes on just as I start shaving – I didn’t really want to attempt that one in the dark.

I can’t really dry off, so I sit around in my towel and type while Beth takes her shower. I put my pictures from Panama on my computer and bind off my headband (a technique I looked up on the internet last night – I need a crochet hook or needle to finish it off, so I have to leave the last two loops open for now). There is this crazy dog outside that is really loud and yipping in a high pitched bark. Think I could shoot it without getting caught? Because I’m considering it.

Even with the annoying perro, I am able to sleep after reading for awhile. And it is blessed. Now bring on the turtles.

Travel, explore, document; repeat.

2007-07-29T16:15:00.000-07:00

Day 19, Wednesday, July 25^th

Okay. Border crossing – here we go. This is my thought as I wake around six and finish packing to leave Panama. The cross into Panama was a nightmare (as I’m sure you remember), so I’m prepared for the worst. We drag our bags out to the boat to Changinola and pay for the trip. Thus follows a rather easy departure from the lovely country. We are traveling with some girls from Canada, and we all get to Sixaola together and get our passports stamped. They are traveling on their own as well, just some more of the really cool people we have met. This border crossing is so much easier because we are left alone for the most part. There are none of those pesky kids running around trying to take your bags. Either they’re all in school or it’s too early in the day. I’m fine with that.

We don’t have to wait long for a bus to San Jose. When we get on we realize that this bus is basically empty. It is lovely. Beth and I can both have our own seats, so I stretch out and relax. I sleep for a bit, but I really want to knit. I don’t know how to end my headband, so I just start the scarf behind it. I can practice I suppose.

We eat breakfast/lunch on the bus – PB&J and cheese crackers. Sound familiar? I’m pretty sure I’m not going to want another PB&J for months. After food I read for awhile and sleep a bit more. It is a nice ride.

When we get to San Jose we have to find our hostel. I am so sick of lugging this suitcase around. I swear, if I ever travel like this again, I am going to invest in one of those giant backpacks. Suitcasing is a pain in the butt.

We find Tranquilo Backpackers, a very lively little hostel downtown, and drop off our stuff. Then the hunger hits us. We walk back to the pedestrian walkway and get some Cheesy Fiesta Fries from Taco Bell. Fiesta! The afternoon is still young so we walk down to the National Theatre. We have kept saying that we are going to come here but have never gotten around to it. So we pay our little entrance fee but opt to wander guide free. It is a lovely old building, and I kinda wish we had gotten the guide. As pretty as it is, I think we miss some of the story. But still. We have a good time sitting in the seats next to the President’s box and discussing theatre. Beth and I are going to see Lion King when we get home, and we are both pretty thrilled.

After stopping in the art museum in the Theatre (a dedication to Francisco Amighetti), we follow the crowd as the Theatre closes for the day. As this is our last day in San Jose, we have to visit Pops a final time. Beth gets a cone, and I get a sundae: helado de cafe con caramelo. Mmm...

Then it’s back to the hostel. I’d like to say that I spend the rest of the night mixing and mingling with our fellow hostelers, but if you remember how many blogs I put up Wednesday, you’ll know that’s not true. I spend all night typing up old entries and using the internet. But I don’t mind. Perhaps I should be living it up here, but what can I say? I’m invested. And you guys love me for it. :)

Nessy, go home!

2007-07-29T15:45:00.000-07:00

Day 18, Tuesday, July 24^th

Another day, another dolla... spent. Well, it is Tuesday morning here in sunny ole Panama, but it could be the weekend for all we know. Beth and I are taking the “take it easy” policy of Panama very seriously. Today we have a tour at 9:30, so we do have to wake up a bit earlier than yesterday. Beth’s stomach is still bothering her, so I break my fast on some maní y jalea con galletas. Then it’s off to the boat docks!

Our little tour group consists of two older couples, a young couple from Spain, a young Mexican man, and a woman a few years older than us from Chicago. The older couples are quite the interesting pair: the men are from Georgia, while one of the women is from Panama, the other from Colombia. They seem to have discovered Panama on their own, but love it here. The older couple of the two actually owns the restaurant where Beth and I have eaten twice. How crazy is that?

Our first stop on this adventure is dolphin watching. Our boat idles out of the way while a boat that came before us motors around in circles. Every once in a while, the dolphins will just jump right behind the boats. When our boat goes around though, I don’t see any jumping for us. The experience is not as amazing as Heather had said, but it is nice. I like dolphins. Though a couple do jump pretty close to the boat, I am only able to get one very fuzzy shot. You can only see the top of their fins, giving the appearance of a Loch Ness kind of photo. Fun stuff.

Next we head to the dock where we will have lunch so we can place our orders. Here Beth and I get to talking with the girl from Chicago. She’s pretty interesting. She is a teacher and traveling on her own, which right there makes her amazing in my book. After this week Beth and I have admitted that while traveling is lovely, we may not have what it takes to go at it alone.

Then we are off again, this time to Zapatilla Cay where we are going to do some down and wet snorkeling. I have only been snorkeling once, and that was in a stingray enclosure in Jamaica, so this is a completely different experience. I am immediately overwhelmed by the extreme variety of fish. I see so many types – big fish, small fish, ugly fish, pretty fish. One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish! After observing for awhile, I find myself noting the different mechanisms the fish use to survive. There is camouflage: I see a small group of fish the same color of the coral that are in an almost vertical line. I can not tell they are fish until I am right over them. I see many fish that blend right into the coral – stripes and strange fin shapes allow them to float without being seen. And then there are those who throw caution to the wind. Sweeping down over the coral I see two very small but very sparkly blue fish. It reminds me of the book Rainbow Fish. There are schools and tiny little minnows, all the way up to a huge fish I see move far below the coral that must be the length of my arms. That causes me pause.

Despite all the wonderful fish, snorkeling is not so easy... or maybe I am just good at getting water in my nosepiece. I blow out and do all the stuff I am supposed to, but after the twelfth or so time that my nostrils fill with sea water, I decide to take a break. I go out a couple more times, but soon it is time to move on.

Now we go to the beach. This was Beth’s first time to snorkel, so we discuss. I think we both really enjoyed it. Yay cool fishies! The Chicago girl tells us that she saw a bottom feeder shark up in front of the boat. Beth and I did not see that.

After an hour long walk around the island (a decision I immediately regret because my shoulders are already so burned, and the sun is hot today), we spend the next hour in the water. We talk with Chicago girl and float in the crystal water, simply soaking up the beauty of the day. It is so lovely here.

We go back to the dock for lunch, where I have ordered red snapper. I receive two whole fish, cooked to delicacy, heads intact. It’s pretty fun. The fish is delicious, as are the rice and plantains. Oh how I love plantains. After lunch, the driver offers to take some people out snorkeling again, but I know I’ve had my fill of the sun. So I sit it out and talk with Beth and take pictures for the next hour until he returns to pick us up. Then we are on our way back to shore.

It is about 4:30ish now, and we’re pretty hungry. Okay, I’m hungry; Beth’s stomach is still messing with her. So we go to the grocery store and pick up some bread and Té Frío before I leave Beth to go look for souvenirs. I find myself really missing Hannah’s positive attitude and inquisitive nature as I walk through the stalls searching for gold. She would have been a welcome addition on the boat, where she might have shared my excitement about what we saw. It’s hard to get a lot of excitement from Beth. And she would listen to me and laugh at my stupid jokes. Maybe Beth and I have just been friends a long time, but it still starts to hurt when she never laughs at my puns. No, I’m just stupid.

For example, when I am looking for souvenirs, I run into this older man who introduces himself as Sergio. We talk for a bit, and he seems elated that I know Spanish. This is not surprising; most of the vendors will speak English to you, but they are glad if we can speak Spanish. So I glance at his merchandise as we talk, but I don’t see anything I want. I am looking for a polite way to leave, but that is always impossible. Finally, as it seems I will escape, he captures my hand and tries to kiss me goodbye. I turn my head and can’t quite stop him from kissing my ear. I can barely restrain myself from running back to the Hospidaje. Way to go me; the most action I get is from an old man. When I tell Beth, she just smiles and says “Yeah, that’s creepy.” I’m pretty sure Hannah would have laughed me back to the States.

Back at the room I shower and settle in for some dinner of PB&J and Ritz cheese crackers. I read and eat until it is imperative that I repack my bag. We have to get up early tomorrow to catch the boat back to Changinola. Another border crossing. Yay. Okay then, I’ll pull my tired self to bed. Night!

Well, I am a tourist...

2007-07-28T18:46:00.000-07:00

Day 17, Monday, July 23^rd

Goooooooood morning Panama! Okay, maybe I’m not Robin Williams, and I’m pretty sure no army would want to listen to my radio show, but who likes fighting anyhow?

It is a lovely Monday morning, made doubly so by the fact that I get to sleep late (9ish?). I lay in bed and read A Clash of Kings until my stomach not so subtly informs me that it requires food... now. So Beth and I get up and dressed and such and walk across the park to the restaurant where we ate lunch yesterday, as we have seen they have breakfast. I’m feeling some pancakes this morning, so we place our orders (Beth gets an omelet) and retire to a table to wait.

The food is good, and with our tummies full, we decide to figure out our plans from here on out. We want to do a boat tour tomorrow, but we’re not sure which company to choose. The first we come across has a couple of interesting prospects, so we get prices and say we’ll be back later. Our second stop tells us more about the places, but I like the feel of the first company better. Now that we have two sets of itineraries and no idea which to choose, we peruse our options. With company number one we can do a tour with dolphin sighting, snorkeling, and beach... or one with the Marine park, snorkeling, and beach. Company number two offers two similar tours. Yet when we talk to Company number one, they tell us that due to the water conditions at Punto Viejo, they will do the dolphins, snorkeling, and Marine Park in one tour. Perfect.

That settled, we ask our tour guide if there are any good beaches around. She tells us we can catch the bus by the park for two dollars to Bocas del Drago, a forty five minute ride up Isla Colón. That sounds wonderful. We visit the room briefly to change and pack a bag, and I make the conscious decision to not wear sunscreen. I know, bad Sarah. But I absorb sunscreen. It hardly takes any to keep me from getting any sun at all. So bring on the pain, if it brings on the tan.

According to the tour guide, the bus to Drago leaves every hour on the hour, so we cross the park a few minutes before 11 to wait. Just as we arrive, a bus to Drago is pulling up, but the driver is being a bit discriminatory in his pickings. He lets three people on the bus and waves the rest of us back. Apparently we have to wait for the next one (in other words, the tourist one). Then he takes his mostly empty bus and drives off.

So we wait... and wait... and wait. There is an older man that they did not let on the bus who is also waiting, so I don’t mind if he doesn’t. I have my book, which I pull out to pass the time. But there is a little girl next to us, who, after being denied a quarter by Beth and I, decides to spend her time sneaking up behind us and trying to look at my book. I show her – “¿Puedes leer? ¿Entiendes inglés?” – but she just shrugs her shoulders and stands way too close for comfort.

The next bus that comes is obviously meant for tourists, and Beth, I, our elderly friend, and a gaggle of middle aged men board for the beach. The men our nice; how cool to still be backpacking through countries with your best friends in your forties. The bus ride isn’t too long, and soon we’re pulling up too the itty bitty station of Bocas del Drago. I say station because, although it’s all houses, it feels suspiciously like we’re hanging out on private property. We walk through a yard and suddenly – BAM. There it is, the most beautiful sea I have ever seen. The water is crystal – an aqua green that is as tranquil as the area. The sun seems to beg for pictures, and I am quick to oblige. I think these are my favorite photos. Beth and start down the five foot wide stretch of beach, which at times simply disappears into the water. We wade around trees and keep walking until we come into a little bay area where a local family is swimming. Just past them we decide to lay out our towels and make camp. The water is too inviting to simply admire however, and it takes me only minutes to wade out into its crystal depths. What we can’t see from shore however is that there is a reef about 100 yards in, so the water never gets deeper than our shoulders.

The next few hours are spent in lazy appreciation of this perfect day. I lie out and read, swim when I get hot, and rejoice as I feel the sun cooking my skin. It is so very lovely. I wish I could say more, but if you look at my pictures and close your eyes, perhaps you can just imagine. :)

There is a four o’clock bus back to town that we want to take, so we gather up our stuff close to that time and walk back to the stop. Our middle aged co travelers tell us that we should have kept walking around the beach – they saw starfish the size of dinner plates. And I later learn that this is the key draw to Drago... whoops. I actually really wish we had seen them, but I have enjoyed this day nonetheless.

Back at the hospidaje, we shower and get ready to go to dinner. I can tell I got burnt, but it doesn’t hurt too much... yet. After my shower I put my pictures from Manuel Antonio on my comp and organize them. Then it’s off to dinner! Yesterday I saw this place called Le Pirate that I wanted to go to, so now we walk over. The goal was to watch the sunset on the patio, but as it is 7:30 by the time we get there, the sun has long since set. Even so, we enjoy a nice dinner of shrimp and lobster (though the lobster messes with Beth’s stomach) and piña coladas (which wasn’t very good actually). So, though it isn’t the best food we’ve had, we still enjoy ourselves thoroughly.

Suddenly we remember that we have to go back to the tour place to make the reservation for tomorrow (there weren’t enough people signed up earlier to choose it this morning). That takes just a few minutes, and we’re not ready to turn in. We’ve been good girls this entire trip. I haven’t gone out in San Jose, and I’ve rarely spent money on anything besides tours and food. So we think: let’s go out. Well, we’re not nightclub girls, and it’s still early, so we just walk to a little bar above a restaurant called Lemongrass. The bartender is one of those young guys who wants to show off, so you know, we have a good time. And then Beth and I just sit in their lounge and sip our drinks. I get another fruity concoction to start (it is mixed with Hawaiian fruit – que interesante) and then end with whiskey and sprite – I’m falling into a routine... is that bad? Except that this guy is like the bartender in San Jose... or I just don’t enunciate. Because he gives me whiskey on the rocks – straight up. I wait till it’s pretty diluted before I start sipping. I don’t think I’ll do that again.

After drinks (Beth has to try another long island iced tea – she says she’d like to try them everywhere), we decide to turn in. We’re not night owls, us girls. Instead we watch an episode of Ugly Betty on Beth’s computer and call it a night. After all, tomorrow is another day, and we’re in Panama. :)

*edit*: Yesterday, I wrote that the little cemetery we saw in town lost many of its graves due to erosion (see paragraph seven of Sunday’s entry). Beth found out today that actually the destruction was due to an earthquake that wrecked the area not too long ago. It just seems that no one bothered to clean up the holy mess. Kinda like the ruins in Cartago... only a shade more creepy.

Bienvenida a Panama

2007-07-25T21:23:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 22^nd

Oh boy. Today it begins – the true adventure.

I get up at four to make sure I have everything together, and by 4:30, I am waiting for mis padres. They are so kind and offer to drive me to Jackie’s house so I don’t have to drag my bags all the way there.

And it is from here until I meet Beth that I succeed in making everyone I meet angry with me. I can’t find Jackie’s house, so we have to drive back to my house to get her number (# 1 – mis padres). Then I call her only to wake her mother up (#2) and hear Jackie telling me that she has been waiting behind the gate (#3). The exchange finally takes place, and I send Jackie with some money to give Sara should my bag be overweight. I am anxious, but I hope everything works out. By the time I meet Beth at the Mas X Menos, I am a nervous wreck. But as I say goodbye to mis padres, I relax. They are very sweet people, and I’m going to miss them.

We find a taxi without much trouble, and within the hour we are safely sitting in the bus, awaiting our trip to Sixaola. High five. The bus ride passes well enough: I decide to destroy my “bufanda” when I realize that somehow in the process I have added another fifteen loops. So instead I start another headband. I take a break halfway through and try to type, but there is no room. But I do finish my headband... sorta. I kinda forgot to ask Hannah how to end a piece. So... yeah. I’m gonna have to look that up.

And then we get to Sixaola. Oh, the stress. We are accosted by children wanting to “help” with our bags when we get off the bus; passport stamp out of CR; passport stamp into Panama; “¡No necesito ayudar!”; pay the visa; drag way too heavy bag across border; try to find a decent taxi. I’m overwhelmed. If not for the help of two friendly locals and a wise young Argentinean (though not narcoleptic), I’m not sure Beth and I would have made it through. But we do, and soon enough we are boarding a ferry from Changinola to Bocas del Toro (a nice trip I’m sure, except I drifted in and out through it). The little village is nice and unassuming, if not completely touristy. I’m not sure if we see more natives or gringos, but I’m not worried. This place seems nice. Or it would... if I wasn’t lugging around a big piece of luggage (even my small bag is vexing me now).

Beth and I don’t have reservations, so we just walk to a hostel she read about in her book – but they are full. They recommend their other hostel, but Beth doesn’t want to go there. However, after dragging our bags halfway across town again, my complaining breaks her down and we just decide on the nearest place we can find. So, it is the Hospidaje Maritza for us. The little motel is nice, but the room won’t be ready until 4:30. So we leave our luggage with her (it is safe, I promise) and head out to explore the town.

We get some lunch at a little cafe across from the town park and walk down to the pier to watch the ocean. It truly is beautiful here, and now that we are unencumbered by our bags, we can enjoy it. We talk for a bit and enjoy the atmosphere, making our plans for the morrow. We’d like to go to the beach but have no idea where one may be. So for now we go to the grocery store to pick up the staples (PB&J and cheese crackers and agua) before returning to the Hospidaje. Beth decides to catch a few winks, so I take my book up to the deck to read. When I’m pretty sure the sun is getting ready to go down, I wake Beth, and we decide to try and find a beach. We walk and walk, and though we never come across a beach, we do see a cemetery that abuts the water. The ocean has done its damage here: many of the above ground graves have been eroded and eaten away, and a pile of old crosses adorns newly formed trash heaps. It is at once both dismaying and beautiful. Beth and I take it in and watch the sun begin its descent, but this part of town isn’t the best, so we start back before the dark becomes too strong.

But we do come up with a plan for our stay: we will find a beach tomorrow, no matter what. And then Tuesday we’ll do a boat tour. That sounds good.

So tonight? Well, how about some drinks? We head to a place called Sand and Surf (original no?) and I order La Iguana (an interesting fruity concoction to my pleasure) while Beth gets a Long Island Iced Tea. And we didn’t eat dinner. But still... another drink later, we decide to retire to the room for the night – we’re really not fiesteras.

The last thing on our little agenda is to shower. Afterwards, I wash some clothes and lay them out to dry. Refreshed and relaxed, I have to say, I am happy to be in Panama. Asi, ¡hasta pronto!

¡Ningun más monos saltando en la cama!

2007-07-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

Saturday, July 21^st

It is five thirty in the freaking morning. What the hell is on my roof? It can’t be construction. It can’t be someone’s suitcase... we’re on the top floor. But the banging won’t quit. What the...?

I rush outside to confront this destroyer of my sleep, but I don’t really think he’s going to understand me. Or any of them for that matter. You see, there are dozens of monkeys hopping across my roof into the trees. I run and get my camera, but you know... the flash. But still! Monkeys on the roof! I serenade Hannah with a rousing round of “No more monkeys jumping on the bed,” but I don’t think she’s so amused. So we go back to bed. :)

Well, despite the early wake up call, we are able to fall back asleep and get a few more hours of shut eye. This is my favorite part of these weekends – sleeping in. Most of our tours have been in the morning, but as there are no tours... sleep! Yay!

After another terrific breakfast, we walk down to the beach. Beth and I have to catch the noon bus back to San Jose, so we pass on the swimming today. Instead I leave my stuff with Beth and walk down to the park. The light is participating with my handicapped camera today, and I get some beautiful photos (including one where I write a grammatically incorrect love note to my friends and have to go and redo it – funny stuff).

Beth and Hannah join me for a bit as we explore the rocks and some particularly quick crabs. Then it’s back up the beach to capture some goodbye shots with my lovely friends. It saddens me to have to leave Hannah and Alicia and Jackie – they have made this trip great fun. But the time must come for every girl to strike out on her own, and I suppose for Beth and I, now is that time.

Well, it would be... if we could find the bus. We wait frantically as the minutes creep closer and closer to noon, until finally we are picked up by an appropriate looking bus. But apparently our bus passed earlier, because the bus we are on sends us on to another bus once it catches up. Don’t worry if that sounds confusing. It is.

I pick up my knitting in the bus, but by now I am getting pretty fed up with this “bufanda.” It’s no bufanda. It’s crap. And I’m tempted to start over. But thanks to a healthy dose of dramamine, this trip isn’t as miserable as it could be.

And then we’re in San Jose. What’s first on the list? Ice cream of course! After the customary trip to Pops, Beth and I catch our respective busses to our houses, planning to meet at the Mas X Menos at 5:15 in the morning.

The rest of the night is a packing nightmare. Did I come with this much stuff? I’m nervous because the bag I’m taking to Jackie surely isn’t under 50 lbs, but I can’t leave anything out of it. So... yeah.

Mis padres come in and offer their going away gifts. I get a magnet (por mi colección) and a pin with a monkey on it. Over a dinner of fried chicken (it’s my papá tica’s birthday so my mamá tica didn’t cook), mi familia asks me about the beach. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Did I see any monkeys? No. I saw nothing. Other than the monkeys on my roof, there was no wildlife. I know that’s odd. Usually the monkeys and iguanas come right out on the beach. But not for us. Apparently that is why mis padres gave me the monkey pin. But I love it anyways.

After typing up some notes of the day and organizing pictures, I pull out my “bufanda” and settle in to more knitting and pearling. Buenas noches San Jose.

...and some like it in the pot nine days old.

2007-07-25T19:53:00.001-07:00

Friday, July 20^th

So... I will not be a beer drinker. Not that I ever was one, but now I’m sure not going to start. Alicia came in last night and... well... she didn’t have such a pleasant night. And neither did our carpet. But we did get to sleep in this morning, so the rest of us had a pretty good night. =/

I like it when hotels include breakfast. It doesn’t happen a lot for us because we always choose the cheap places, but here, there is bread and piña and coffee and jugo de naranja and... oh desayuno. The morning is lazy and slow, but it does not take long until we are impatient to hit the beach. I am not a beach native; there have only been a few in my recent past, and I am excited to jump into the salty sea. And Beth? Well, this is her first beach. ¡Qué emocionante para ella!

The water is warm enough, the sand fine enough, and the sun hot enough for my tastes. This is a lazy day, and I spend the majority of it laying out and reading Harry Potter 6. But sometimes... well, what can be more fun than body surfing some choice swells with your good friends? Nothing I must think.

We break our beach party around noon for some good ole fashioned tourist food. I get some quesadillas – yum-my. :)

Then it’s back to the beach. It is soon apparent that la fuerza del sol has left its mark on the girls – almost everyone is burning. But not me. I put on just enough sunscreen to make it less than obvious that I just spent the entire day on the beach. Pooh and piglet too.

We trek back up to the hotel for showers and to change and then catch a cab up the hill to El Avion – our choice of restaurants for dinner. The guidebooks rave about this transformed old aircraft and the food joint built around it. And I admit, the sight is impressive, and so is the cost of the cab. It costs us 4000 colones just to get up the hill. Wth? That’s crap. But ah well. The walk would’ve been worse I now think.

The food at El Avion is pretty good, though my appetite flees as soon as we sit down. So I order the Mahi-mahi fingers; I’ve never had fish sticks like these before. Our waiter spends the majority of our dinner flirting with Marissa, who shamelessly flirts back. Though I’m glad not to be the one being hit on, the exchange is fun to watch. Dinner passes pleasantly enough, though I do pass on the chance to drink. Alicia’s recent sickness has made me wary of all alcohol. I’ll stick to agua tonight.

The only dent in the night – my stupid camera. My flash is most definitely broken, and it has ruined many a potentially cute picture. I’m pretty peeved. First thing when I get home, I’m marching that camera to the store. It’s in big trouble.

So... I should go out. I should go and party and be my age. But I’m tired... and I want to read HP. I need to finish! And I do. And now... I cannot wait till the seventh. But here is my big fear – someone in the next week is going to ruin it. Someone in CR will be discussing it; alguien en el aeropuerto tendrá una boca grande. Fingers crossed I can make it home without knowing what happens.

And now, I knit. This scarf is coming along I suppose, but maybe I’m just really sleepy. :)

Kiss me au revoir!

2007-07-25T18:43:00.000-07:00

Day 16, Thursday, July 19^th

Reflection. How far have I come in these four eventful weeks? I remember the bus ride to meet my family. I was as nervous as a blushing bride. But now, well, let’s not make that simile.

Needless to say, when I awake this morning, I am muy triste about this final day. This is my last real morning with my family, my last hoorah so to speak. And I have come to love them, and with this love I will miss them greatly. I eat breakfast with my abuela, and we talk about what I’ve learned: a lot. Too soon it is time to make the last walk to la parada.

I notice everything about my neighborhood today; everything I have come to enjoy and expect. There is the creepy house with overgrown ivy where an irritable dog always announces my presence. There is the waterfall that has broken the sidewalk and deluges down to an overgrown stream, making one of two paths I must break to enter the street. There is the security guard at the top of the big hill who always wishes me “Buenas Dias,” no matter the time of day. There is the daycare not too far from my house, the one where I only started seeing kids three days ago, until which time I was not sure it was open at all. All these places and people have burned themselves in my memory. They are Sabanilla to me, as much as my bus and my experience. And I will miss them accordingly.

As today is the last day of class, and I know I have no homework due (¡que extraño para mi!), I pull out my knitting. I’ve been making a mess of it, but it is coming along. I decide after Hannah’s suggestion to turn my super wide headband into a thin scarf. After all, this gives more opportunity to knit *and* pearl. So I am getting a lot of practice... even if it will be an ugly scarf.

Finally the bell rings and it is time for THE TEST. Okay, I’m not nervous, but everyone around me is, and that is bad for my nerves. Still, I enter the test without trepidation. I am so ready. Ronny informs us that the oral part will be last, much to my great relief. So after the listening exercise, I dig into my thick packet. It is a long test but not hard: I have this grammar in the bag. And better, it is fun. There are no less than four duendes mentioned, as well as a murder plot. Basically, I can’t stop grinning. I work longer than most people, but I always do. I’m an expert at double guessing myself. When I am positive I have done my best, I turn to the writing portion. We have written on most of these topics already, but I am still at a loss. One choice (and the one I choose) is to discuss religion in CR. After a bit of thought, I start to describe my views on religion and how the US and CR differ. Though I am the second to last person done with my exam, I am thoroughly pleased with my essay. And that is what counts.

When we are finished, Ronny tells us to go to the computer lounge to wait for our oral. By the time he gets to me, we have but five minutes until lunch. Nonetheless, I am prepared, and I whip through those questions. One is whether you would rather live in Greenland or the Sahara, and what would you do there to survive. I choose Greenland and say I would fish and try to befriend some indigenous peoples. And then I quip, “Actually, if I were to live in Greenland, I would probably just watch Man Vs. Wild for a few weeks before I leave.” He laughs. It is my proudest Spanish moment. John would be proud. Bear!

Our graduation is a small affair; simply a handing out of certificates by our teachers. But still... I tape the whole thing. ;) Some queque and a quick lunch later, and it is over. We are done. Nevertheless, we have to stay at school ‘til 3, so Ronny pulls out a movie. I am elated – the film we are to watch is Spirited Away! It seems Ronny is a Miyazaki fan, and his favorite is Howl’s Moving Castle – like me! I am so excited to watch it, but there is a problem. Hannah and I didn’t bring our computers today as we are leaving after school... and work Hannah’s computer hardly has any battery. Even so, we start the movie. It is dubbed over and subtitled in Spanish, which is very interesting. I actually think the dubbing is done better, which is even odder. We watch for oh... about an hour before la computadora gives out. I’ve been knitting through the whole thing, but now we have nothing to do. Pooh. I like Miyazaki. Sean, you’ve rubbed off (and Whit – see, I mentioned you!).

We spend the rest of the afternoon discussing our experiences here, and what our plans for the future are. Everyone is going on and on about being ready to go home, and though I am glad to be staying, their enthusiasm is making me miss my friends and family. Oh well, only a week and a half left! Ronny starts telling us what he thinks of us by complementing Allison’s sarcastic wit. He then says that work Hannah is crazy, and he is fairly certain Marissa hates him. We all get a big laugh out of this. But what about Hannah and me? Well, he says, Hannah’s pretty normal and always happy. A few minutes of conversation pass on that account. Then: And Sarah’s usually happy. That’s all the description I get. I’m usually happy. Hey, guess what? I’m usually alive too. Oh the things I usually am.

After class, Ronny hurriedly goes through my story with me. He tells me my mistakes but says that overall it is a good story. Well, I’m proud of it. So proud in fact, that should you ask me to tell it to you some day, I may just act it out. ;)

Hannah and I have some time to kill before heading to town, so we walk around the school cataloguing our favorite places. Or, at least we try. But by the third picture, I see a horrible trend: my flash is refusing to work. In fact, my camera is acting as if the flash is a trick it will not deign to use. In short, my camera is broken.

I try to shake it off and vow to try again later, and instead I spend the next few minutes chatting with people while we wait on Alicia’s teacher to grade her test. I kinda wish Ronny would grade ours... I am curious... but no. It’s probably better I don’t know.

Once Alicia gets her grade (an A of course – she’s so smart, and pretty, and nice... love ya Alicia!), we walk down to the mall. We have to eat surprisingly quickly, so the choice of restaurant is super easy. I’ve never experienced fast food as the Wendy’s in the mall does it. I’ve never seen a crowd there, and it literally takes thirty seconds to get your food. I suppose that time is the price you pay for freshness... but right now time is what we don’t have.

Sooner than later we have our food and begin chomping down. We have a lively conversation about TV (one Beth happily jumps into) and begin our show wish lists for the next year. I’m actually excited about the upcoming season. What is happening to me? ;)

Food barely digested, we disrupt our thrilling talk and hail a couple of taxis to the Coca-Cola station. Our taxi driver’s good enough, but his radio is super creepy. We listen to ten minutes of eerie Dracula laughs before we are finally dropped off at the station. I may not love busses, but I’ll take them over crazy cab drivers.

And then, another bus ride. I can’t really make these anymore interesting than they are – they never consist of much more than reading, knitting, talking, and listening to music. But today’s conversation is good: Beth and I talk about quite a few things in our lives that have been bothering us, and it sparks me to try and contact some old friends.

The constant flickering on and off of lights in the bus makes sleeping rather impossible, so I am relieved to arrive in Manuel Antonio. Alicia wants to go out tonight, but I think I just want to sleep. Who am I kidding? I’m not a partier and perhaps never will be. I’d rather hang out with my friends and type up my blogs. It constantly surprises me how seriously I have taken this task. I want you, dear readers, as few as you may be, to live through me, so I must write, and I must write well. And I must shove as many commas as possible into a single sentence. :)

Our hotel is called Hotel del Mar and is well-known, at least according to my guide book, for being gay friendly. Whew, glad that’s out in the open. Since we’re all gay men, we should fit right in. How silly. The hotel is nice, and I am ready to collapse. It’s too late tonight to hit the beach, but tomorrow!

Alicia, Marissa, and Laura (our new Canadian friend) decide to go out, while Beth, Hannah, Jackie, and I stay in. Not that I mind. We stay up and talk, and after Jackie goes to bed, the three of us start the random word game. Once again, I am struck by the desire to have known Hannah better when we lived together. She is a really fun girl. And there we pass the night, me knitting and pearling, the girls being silly. Yay for CR.

To be or not to be.... Isn't it all relative?

2007-07-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

Day 15, Wednesday, July 18^th

And so, another morning begins with Harry Potter. I read right up till I have to leave. I want nothing more than keep reading; after all, what could we possibly be doing today that’s interesting? Yet off to school I go. Alicia and I talk on the bus about going home (and not). She’s super ready. This may be due to the fact that her birthday is the day they go home. I’m glad mine isn’t until the Friday after I get back. I’d like to rest before.

I forget that this morning we are to watch a movie, so when Ronny tells us to go to a different room, I get excited. The movie is not one I have heard of: Mar Adentro. He tells us it is a Spanish film about Euthanasia, based on the life of Ramon Sanpedro. The movie is powerful, and I am glad to have seen it. It is sad in all ways, but visually pleasing, and an all around incomparably better film than El Caribe. And at the end, I am not sure whether to be sad from the situation or happy his life is finally over as he wished. It is a deeply impacting film. We discuss it for a bit, but there isn’t so much we can really say. Euthanasia is a hard topic to flesh out in any language, similar to the death penalty and abortion.

During break I give Ronny my story, and by lunch he pulls me aside. He is almost finished fixing it, but he says that it is muy muy bien, and he wants to discuss the errors after school tomorrow. I’m excited. I’m just glad it’s not bad. :)

The UCA crowd has a meeting with Laura, the director of CRLA after school today. She asks us about the trip, whether we have liked it, how our families have been, what they can change: the usual. But no one has too much to say. As far as I know, almost everyone has thoroughly enjoyed this experience. And we tell her so. But when she asks us what they should do differently, no one speaks. This truly has been a wonderful adventure.

I try to grab some internet time, but I am quickly kicked off by my friends. Hannah wants to go to a jewelry shop the others are going to, and Beth wants to make plans. So I grudgingly leave my blogs to tomorrow and do what I can with Beth. But Panama is still unresponsive. It looks more and more like we may have to just go and see how it goes.

I really enjoy my market time with Hannah. The “little jewelry shop” we are looking for is actually a huge series of stores and stalls, each full of knickknacks and whohaws. While the jewelry here is a bit more mainstream than the handmade crafts of the open air market, I still enjoy what we find. So I buy myself a necklace as well as knock off a few more souvenirs I need. And overall, I just enjoy my time with Hannah. She is the kind of upbeat person I love to hang out with. Unfortunately, too soon the stores start throwing down their big metal bars, and, slightly afraid we may get locked in, we flee.

As I catch the bus home, I reflect on my current attitude. It kinda sucks to be going home now. I am finally getting used to things, and I haven’t missed anyone in a few days. Really, this would be the perfect time to throw myself into school. But instead, it is all drawing to a close. Que triste.

Although, I must admit, I am getting excited about my last week now. It just hit me yesterday that I am about to spend a week and a half on the beach. And I need it. I am still incredibly pale. I need the beach, just so I can come home with some sort of respectable tan.

And now, here I sit, typing up the last few days, floating on a cloud. You know what I think is most interesting about this blog? You have seen my thought process during school, and it is revealing to me as much as to you. You have seen me anxious about beginning, loving being in the thrall of learning, frustrated with others for not wanting to be there, frustrated with myself for not being good enough and trying too hard, frustrated with teachers for not caring or not liking me, and now, glowing with the pride of having been praised (Ronny liking my story). Okay, those of you who were in my honors criticism class this last semester with me saw this process, but to me it is a bit enlightening. I live to be praised. I work hard in everything I do; I put forth extra effort, all for a bit of admiration. My teachers in middle school said that made me an easy target for bullying, and to an extent they were right. People who do things simply for gratitude are sorely disappointed when it doesn’t come. But I don’t want to be different. Because when it does come... oh man.

I guess that’s why I work with kids. They never thank. They hardly ever give compliments. But I never feel slighted. Because when a child remembers your name, chooses you as her playmate, hugs you goodbye, those things are all the praise I need.

But yeah, I should do things just for my own praise... I suppose. I’ll work on that. :)

There will be a tail for you, a head for me... :)

2007-07-25T17:03:00.000-07:00

Day 14, Tuesday, July 17^th

¡Buenas Martes! My happy little attitude is really just a front. I am actually pretty nervous about my speech today. So, to distract myself from it, instead of working on it, I read HP6. But after I jump in the shower, I do work on the story until breakfast... where my abuela tries to feed me cake. Yesterday cookies, today cake, what’s next? Pudding? I eat some (it’s cake!), and then recluse to my room once more to frantically scrounge together more of my story. But too soon it is time to head out. One good thing about this morning? I didn’t cough last night! I *might* be getting better. Ojala.

Once I get to school I finish outlining the story idea, but I admit I am not ready to read it. So when we get in to class, I call for a class vote. No one seems to care, so I plant the evidence that the favor leans toward the afternoon. Ronny’s fine with that, but Marissa would rather go this morning. It seems that everyone else is simply going to talk about their families. Well, should I do that? I mean, I really just plan on reading my story, but I realize that’s not great oral practice. So I ask Ronny: which would he prefer? He says reading my story in fine, so indeed, we put off the speeches till after lunch.

To fill the morning hours we do a worksheet and then play a question game. I actually like these games, as pointed as they might be. We all get a lot of practice, especially with our subjunctive. By the time break comes about, my head is swimming with conjugations. My cough has return with a vengeance (though I suppose I should be grateful that it only comes in spurts now), so I grab some coffee to counter it. And what goes better with coffee than Chikies? Good thing I’ve got some! I set to writing some more during the ten minutes I have but make little progress.

After break we do worksheets. Worksheet after worksheet after worksheet. Right up until lunch. The group makes plans to go back to the pizza place today, but I need to finish my story, so I stay behind. I consume the rest of my cookies and write like a mad woman. I know how I want this story to work out, and I realize I don’t have the time to finish it the way I wish. So I make some small changes and bring the thing to a close... just as everyone comes back in from lunch. Poo, that was close.

We all finish our last worksheet, and then Ronny sits back. “Hable y escucho.” Okay. Marissa starts and talks about her family. Then Allison and her family. Then Hannah... and her family. Families. Oh boy. Then my Hannah tells the story of Cinderella. It is a nice change of pace, and I am ashamed of some of the girls for not paying attention. We paid attention while they talked. So I decide when my turn comes around that I am going to need to do more than just read. I jump up and decide to act out my little tale. And I do. When my little rabbit hops, I hop. When Lili LaRou gives a hug, I hug myself. And when the fairy waves her hand over the césped, I wave like crazy.

And when I am done, they look at me. That’s it. No one laughs (though there are many built in funny parts), and no one says anything. Then work Hannah remarks: “That’s so sad.” Huh? Sad? Maybe the beginning, but the rest is *supposed* to be happy. Even though Hannah thinks I’m being ridiculous, my feelings are hurt. I skipped lunch for this story, and no one understood it. Or worse, they didn’t like it.

So after class I ask Ronny what he thought of it really. He says it was good, but it had quite a few errors. Yeah, I expect that. But then he says that if I’ll write it out on notebook paper, he’ll correct it tomorrow in class. Really?! That boosts my mood.

After class we make reservations for the weekend in Manuel Antonio. We go ahead and buy our bus tickets, and while at it, Beth tries to make plans for the last week. We get our reservations for Tortuguero covered, but Panama won’t accept our calls. So we’ll try again tomorrow.

Jackie, Fumi, Matt, and the three of us walk down town to the open air market to souvenir shop, and I’ll say that I am pleased with the results. I got some fun stuff for me as well as souvenirs – but I can’t tell you what they are! That would ruin the sorpresa.

I take the bus home with Jackie, Fumi, and Matt. I like these kids; they’re funny. We chat and such until their stop; mine is the one after theirs. It is nice to have someone to talk to today; it makes the ride so much shorter. I walk the rest of the way, taking in the neighborhood I will soon leave.

At home I eat again with my abuela: the same deer meat like substance with rice and chayote. It is superbly yummy. I’m gonna miss my family. We talk for a bit: I show her my souvenirs and my bungee video, and I tell her about my story. She says that if I like it, that is all that matters. That is true. :) Oh abuelas.

I retire to mi dormitorio to organize pictures and write until bed time. I rewrite my story for Ronny, but can’t bring myself to do much else. So... duermo. ¡Ciao!

Beware El Gripe

2007-07-25T16:59:00.000-07:00

Day 13, Monday, July 16^th

So... if I have Mono again, someone is going to get a punch in the face... even if it is me. My coughing wakes me up within an hour of going to sleep, but when I wake up, there is no trace of crud. Is it over?

No. I take a shower, and the standing and hot water break it all up. Soon I’m coughing and hacking with the best of them. My abuela and mamá tica ask if I’m feeling alright, and the weird thing is, I am. I have an awful cough, and my body feels like I did a hundred more crunches again in my sleep, but other than that, I’m fine. My head isn’t cloudy, but I am tired. And all these symptoms are what happened when I had Mono. So I’m going to wait it out. If it moves up to my throat, and my nodes swell, I’m going to be upset. Hopefully though, it is as my abuela tica says: just a bad reaction to the climate change. Ojala.

I am pretty excited to see Alicia this morning; it is the first weekend we have done different things. As we board the bus, she tells me all about Montezuma. The beach is less crowded than most, so it would have been wonderful if not for the cloudy skies and dangerous waves, one of which apparently almost swallowed her whole. Goodness. Then it’s my turn. I give her the blow by blow as we walk the last block. Methinks I might talk too much.

When we get to school I remember the little exposición we have tomorrow. My plan the whole time has been to write a story... I just have to figure it out. Last night I came up with a few ideas – a girl named Lili LaRou – but nothing beyond that. So now I try to come up with a story.... Lili has a rabbit and a grandmother, one big, the other small. However, they both are hairy and have little brown splotches. Yes, this will be good.

Class this morning is a little slow – Ronny is apparently quite sick with el gripe. Though this is just the flu, I think it sounds so much better in Spanish. El Gripe. Oooh. The first thing we do is watch Hannah’s bungee jump. I am once again impressed and have to point out that everyone should notice her perfect form. I will be demonstrating how not to jump off a bridge on Wednesday.

So we finally get around to doing some work, though not much, before break. No one really seems into it. We all know that we have two days left, and the fever is gripping. But still, I can’t help letting that old grievance resurface:

You know, I wish I didn’t like school so much. Because really, I am not a great student. Few things come easily to me, and those that used to do not anymore. With every year I seem to be able to logic less in classes, a skill that is becoming more and more important. As such, often I feel like I’m grasping at straws – things that once made perfect sense no longer connect.

And that makes loving class hard. I want to understand, so I ask too many questions. I want to hear, so I mentally will people (and sometimes ask them) to shut up. And what good is it? I still don’t make the As I want. And with each B I get more and more frustrated and disillusioned, until last year, for the first time ever, I found myself not liking school. And as much as I like school here, I find it being the same. Music and languages – two things I love and two things I find I’m no good at.

Break itself does not help my dismay. People keep asking me how bungee jumping was. “Okay,” is always my answer. They seem surprised... and disappointed. Sara put it rightly: “You went bungee jumping, and it was okay?” I guess I shouldn’t feel that way. I suppose I should either hate it or love it (like Hannah). But I don’t. It was okay. How do I explain that although I am glad to have the experience, my lack of form, the roughness of the fall, and my fear keep me from loving my memories of that jump. I told Alicia that I would probably need to do it once more (to get my form right), and then, never again. But I would like to try skydiving now.

After break, we play scrabble. Work Hannah and Marissa are on a team, Hannah and me, and Allison and Ronny are teams themselves. It is a great game – Hannah and I win by points and would have in all if we didn’t have a stupid ‘x’. There are no Spanish words with X, it seems. Instead we had a lot of fun joking about what words to put x on: heroex?, reconozcasx?, six? But we never do find anything to work with, so Allison wins. But I’m not upset: we still got the most points.

We decide to try that pizza place again, y’know, since their oven was broken last week. So we mosey on over and fill up on jamón y queso pizza and Té Frío. Things I will miss from CR # 1: Té Frío. :(

Ronny’s all about the activities today, and after lunch he pulls out some photos of people from Costa Rica. These are big laminated things, meant to spark conversation and such, but Ronny just lets our imaginations run wild. This poor old lady becomes victim to our machinations; she is now a goose murdering black widow, who feeds a goose to each husband she acquires... and then those husbands to other husbands. We have rather demented minds. But it was great fun. After thoroughly ruining the elderly woman’s reputation, Hannah quips “So, is this your grandmother or something?” Remember her unbecoming comments of Ronny’s child when she saw it on his T-shirt? I laugh. “No, but that is his goose!” Yeah, good times.

After school, I catch up with internet as it hits me: This is the last week of school! And although everyone around me is thrilled, I am quite saddened. I figure this is only due to the fact that, besides Beth and I, the rest of the crew is headed home on Sunday. And the knowledge that I have another week away from home is kinda sad today. So I want to cling to school, for many reasons, but mostly because it is easy repetition.

When my computer dies, Hannah says she wants to walk to the grocery store to get some coffee and chocolate. Chocolate? That’s all I had to hear. I get a bar and some cookies (Things I will miss # 2: Chiky cookies and coffee). Then we catch our respective buses home.

My mamá tica is now taking classes at the University in English, so she’s not here for dinner tonight. So instead, I eat in the kitchen with my abuela. The food is especially delicious tonight: she makes me a meat that tastes suspiciously like deer meat. I know it’s not cow, but I can’t place it. But no matter, with rice it is delish.

After dinner I settle in to read Harry Potter. I have the sixth book, and I’d like to finish it so I can give it back to Alicia this weekend. So I tuck in. But there is so much I have forgotten! I’m glad I am rereading it; if not, I may not understand the seventh book at all.

But reading doesn’t last to long as I am really really sore. I must have done more crunches in my sleep last night because my core rejects every movement. So pretty early I decide to turn in. But first I write a bit more of my speech (as in three lines) and set my alarm to finish it en la mañana. Just like me: putting it off ‘til the end.

Oh, it's just a walk in the park!

2007-07-18T15:34:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 15^th

Ick and ick for this crappy morning. Basically, I haven’t slept well. I woke up coughing around 4ish (I think), and now I am sore everywhere. And my ribs hurt. Wth? Last night I fell when we were walking home and twisted the same knee yesterday morning before the jump. So now it is really bothering me. And on top of that, I cannot find my favorite blue hoodie (the only one I brought), and I am suddenly sure I left it at the movies last night. Poo. Needless to say, when I leave the house to go meet Beth for church, I am in a really foul mood.

I meet Beth in downtown San Jose mere minutes before mass is to start (thanks to a bus that refused to come). And though I am doing my darndest to let my bad mood get the best of me, Beth does something to cheer me up: she gives me my jacket. She put it in her purse last night and just forgot to give it back. I’m thrilled. I can ignore my body.

Church is... okay. I didn’t understand the majority (even though it is a Catholic mass and there is not much to comprehend), so we kinda miss communion. And it kinda sucks. Because I really want communion. Poo poo.

After church we meet Hannah and I complain about my bad day. Hannah’s guess is that I have been doing crunches in my sleep, and that is why my abs hurt. Sure. Sounds good. I keep coughing, but for the most part, my mood clears up. We sit around in the plaza and people watch for a bit, trying to make some plans for the day. Hannah’s suggestion: ice cream. Come on Hannah, something useful please? But she’s right... when is ice cream not useful? I tell them about this park I read about, and although it is quite a distance, we decide to walk there.

On the way to La Sabana (the neighborhood where the park is), we stop in at a large warehouse looking building that actually houses quite a few restaurants in the upper level. After much deliberation, I get a fish sandwich from Burger King and chow down. Then it is some ice cream from Pops (yum), and we reclaim our hike. I like this part of town. It is much more suburban and much less dirty. I admit; I will not be sad to leave San Jose. Sometimes, it is a pain in my tush.

After years of walking (it is a very long walk), we see some trees that we think must signal a park. And sure enough, a few meters later, we see it: an enormous and welcome expanse of green in an otherwise urban area.

The first things I see are tons of soccer games. Little league, older groups, everyone and their dog is out here playing fútbol. And those who are not are picnicking and playing Frisbee. It is so peaceful here. I snap some pictures as we run into a grove of painted trees. At least, they sure look painted. But upon closer inspection, we discover that these árboles are, indeed, real. ¡Qué extraño!

We walk further into the park and come across a large pond (or lagoon as my guide book refers to it as), where children are scurrying, venders are peddling, and ugly ducks are happily quacking. A walk around the lagoon yields a zip line... a very unsafe looking zip line. Huh. There are also some whale bones (not real) and many interesting statues. Although I could walk around here for much longer, a sudden rainstorm drives us to keep moving. We round the water and continue back to the entrance: Hannah now really has to go pee, and I’m fairly certain the museum at the entrance has some baños.

The art museum is free on Sundays, so after we do our bathroom stuff, we decide to have a look around. This might just be my favorite part of the weekend (okay, not really, but it is wonderful). There are paintings and sculptures and a hammock, where you can lie and listen to a featured song. The museum is dedicated to CR as a sea. This means everything is smooth and tranquilo. I love it. And on top of the wonderful art we see, there is the building itself. The staircase reminds me of a lighthouse, winding up and around. The upstairs is simply two balconies with rows of tiny doors leading out to the terrace. And at one end is a large music room, equipped with a piano. Qué magnifico.

It is still raining a bit when we leave, but we figure we can make it to our food warehouse before it gets too bad. We don’t. Within minutes of leaving the comfort of the museum, the bottom drops out of the sky, and we are pelted with ever increasing rapids of rain. We sorely underestimate the distance to our building, each time we stop to take shelter we say “oh, let’s keep going; it’s just a bit further.” But it isn’t, and by the time we take the escalator to safety, my white skirt is soaked to my thighs. I quickly find a seat and spread my skirt out to dry; how embarrassing.

Somehow I decide this reprise means more ice cream is necessary (a big reason why I have gained weight this trip), and I get a sundae with coffee ice cream and caramel sauce. Ah, who cares if it’s unhealthy – it’s so good!

Once the rain lets up, about an hour later, we walk back to town. We want to do some souvenir shopping, but by the time we make it to the open air market, most booths are closing. Really, this does not bother me. My cough has gotten worse, and I now feel very very tired. So when we decide to just come back Tuesday, I inwardly rejoice.

Finding a bus to Sabanilla is muy difícil, and soon we give up and start around the corner to find another. Just then my bus zooms by! Poo. But it isn’t long after we get to my stop that another bus pulls up, so I wish the girls Hasta mañana and hop aboard.

Once home, I pass on dinner (a first!) and do some laundry. Then, after looking at some pictures (Hi Sean! I miss you!), I type up some journal notes and go to bed. It is 8:30, and I feel like a zombie. But before I fall asleep I remember: I have a speech Tuesday. Hmm...

And the green grass grows all around, all around, and the green grass grows all around.

2007-07-18T14:31:00.000-07:00

Saturday, July 14^th

Everyone takes risks. A little boy decides to cross a busy intersection; a doctor enters surgery; a robber attempts a daytime break-in. What makes us do things if we know there are risks involved? How do we decide that the risk is less than the reward? I suppose this is what we call collateral. It is the guarantee that, should we take the risk, our outcome will be worth it. The boy crosses the street with the collateral that the red light means no cars are coming; the doctor with knowledge of his procedure. The robber enters the house knowing full well that the police are busy with a domestic abuse case three streets over. So, if we feel safe, then perhaps the risk is not so... well, risky.

So, here I stand, on a precipice – literally – knowing that this is a risk I have to take, something I must do. This fear of falling has commanded me too long, and it is time to show that I can control my body and my life. But as I stand here, the fear that always grips me suddenly comes, like an evil twin, whispering doubts in my ear. And I have to think... how did I make it here?

We have been talking about it for weeks, probably since we got here. I’m not sure who first mentioned it, and it doesn’t really matter, because, from almost the first day, it has been in the plans to jump off a bridge. Due to the constant change in plans and the always present danger that it might not happen, the decision has been kept a secret from the public. Then last weekend we went to Monteverde and did the zip line course, after which Beth decided not to follow through with the plan. I think it had much less to do with fear for her and more to do with the fact that she just did not enjoy zipping... so why would she enjoy jumping? That is logic I can understand, but even so, a bit of my confidence has slipped away. Hannah’s excitement cannot quite win me over – next to me, she seems a seasoned pro.

Even so, I find myself awake this morning, simultaneously excited and scared shitless (pardon my honesty). And, unfortunately, the scared part of me is the one with which I am most familiar. Yet I know I cannot back out, even when we arrive at the bridge and are checking out T-shirts. Beth pays her ride-along fee... I could still back out... but no. I have to do this. Yet, when I walk to the bathroom to change into the pair of shorts Beth has let me borrow, I cannot quell the bile rising in my stomach. Hannah does not understand. She is beyond excited. I think it must be impossible to truly describe fear. I cannot simply say: “when I am high up, I feel like hurling.” It is not that simple. For when I lean over the railing to look down into the Rio Colorado, I am not afraid. But for so long I have been, and for some reason, that is proving hard to shake.

And then we are harnessed in. I pay close attention to Hannah and her form. It is perfect. She pulls herself up on the platform, walks out, and on the count of five smoothly swan dives off the metal into the air. I am breathless and excited for her; she exudes the confidence I lack. Too soon she is pulled back up, and it is my turn. I sit on the platform, pull myself around, and walk out. And freeze.

And this is where I am. Standing, desperate to jump and bitter with myself for allowing my fear to paralyze me. So when the guide counts down, I stop him. But after a few bracing breaths, I let him start again. And this time I jump... well, I try. My body jumps, while my feet stay glued to the metal. Therefore, I am pulled into a crouch, a frog jump as I fall into open air. And then I fall. That part I hardly remember, for it could not have been more than two seconds. Then there is a tug, a jerk, and more falling. But I hardly realize that I am being tossed around like una muñeca. Instead, I am almost in tears. I just jumped. No puedo creer que he saltado. No creo. I am in shock. And as the blood drains to my head, I feel proud.

They pull me back up, and I rush into Hannah and Beth’s arms. We are laughing and talking and smiling; they are proud of me, and I of Hannah. And Beth. I know it has not been easy to come out here with us, knowing she is not going to jump. But I thoroughly appreciate her presence. She has been taking pictures throughout the entire process and now shows me. So here is the deal: I am not the thinnest kid (by any stretch of the word), but these pictures show off my rather large thighs and basically highlight my fatty areas. So very very few of them are going on facebook, if any. But, should you ask, I will almost certainly show you the DVD they give me of the jump – it’s pretty awesome.

Yet in the moments after the jump, I am disappointed. Beth and Hannah laugh about my half jump/fall off the platform, and we joke and such about my sudden fear. But inside, I am thoroughly disgusted with myself. This was my chance, y’know? My chance to beat it, and I didn’t. I just... fell. There was no jump. And that upsets me.

So... although I feel slightly anticlimactic in doing so, I think I will detail the rest of the day here. Just know that what you just read was perhaps the most interesting part of the day. Bueno.

Our very nice driver takes us to San Jose, where the first order of business is to find a bank so I can repay Hannah for my Bungee T-shirt and get money for souvenirs. Yet when three bank ATMs refuse to tell me my balance, I start to panic. I have no clue whether my last transfer went through, and I refuse to remove any more money before I see. I am frustrated, but the girls are hungry, so they drag me to Taco Bell where Beth buys my lunch. Have I mentioned lately how great my friends are? I really am blessed to have them here with me (not just for the money).

We are loath to leave the restaurant – the first to offer us free refills and cheesy fiesta fries! – but I really need to find a bank. Beth comes across an ATM like those in the mall, and thank God, it takes my card. I realize I do have enough to get souvenirs, so I remove some money and immediately pay Hannah back. Then we search out an internet cafe where I e-mail my parents about our last week here. Beth has been pulling her hair out with the planning (I should feel bad that I am not doing more, but I am loving not being in charge for once!). Thanks Beth. I’ll love you even when you’re bald.

After we all have our fill of internet time, there is general consent that the time is ripe for ice cream. So a visit to Pops is orchestrated, and within minutes we are chilling in an upstairs room, helado in hand. The rest of the day is hastily planned out.... Do we still want to go to the market? How about tomorrow? Well, if not today, perhaps the jazz club? But I don’t want to get home late.... Well, it is only three... what about a movie? A movie?! Oh my!

So we set off to the mall to see Transformers. Unfortunately, the line is way long, and I am pretty sure we are not going to get into the time we want. So instead, we embark on an adventure and hightail it to the Outlet Mall, which I quickly decide I like much better. It is not nearly as crowded, and, even though we get there less than ten minutes before the movie starts, we still get tickets (despite the fact that the woman wouldn’t take my money, and I now owe Beth)! Whoot!

Transformers is stupendous. I won’t gush over it like I did with HP 5, but I do love it. It is most certainly an action flick, full to the brim with superficial characters, hot women, and fast music. But damn, what an action flick! I mean, it has robots! And who cannot get chills when a Mack truck turns into a robot and introduces himself as Optimus Prime? Please. Although, the best part may be the insanely vague subtitles and the censoring they incorporated. Fun stuff (I have started saying this a lot, and I can’t figure out where I picked it up).

Después de la película, nosotros caminamos a la Universidad, donde tomo un bus a mi casa. Although I am super tired when I get home, I still talk to my parents for a while about my day. I suddenly want to show them my jump, and I even intrude on the privacy of their bedroom to do so. They are excited to watch and make more than appropriate noises of disbelief and awe. And for the first time today, I am truly proud. Who cares about my form? I jumped off a freakin’ bridge. And watching this video, I am sure. I may think I fell, but I jumped. I did it.

The rest of the night passes without incident. I knit for a bit and listen to music before going to bed. I do have a bit of a cough when I lay down, but it does not stop me from falling asleep.

So, thoughts about today: The jump didn’t change anything. I am not suddenly a new person. It did not even really banish my fear of heights (as I discovered earlier in the mall). But it did give me something: confidence. There is no reason I cannot do whatever I wish. I have the power. Fear is normal. Fear is healthy. But now, fear cannot stop me. And that makes the whole day worth it.

Thirteen means fun for me!

2007-07-16T16:30:00.001-07:00

Weekend three:
Friday, July 13th

Maybe today is bad luck for some, but for me, it is naught but fun. Heyo!

A-rafting I will go; a-rafting I will go! Hi ho the derrio, a-rafting I will go!

Yeah, so I am excited. I do the whole get ready thing this morning and make sure not to pack anything that I wouldn’t mind getting wet. This means no book or knitting, but I’m hoping the wait won’t be too bad.

I get to the bus stop and confusedly wait for Hannah and Beth. Are they in that tour bus over there? What am I supposed to do? But then they get off their bus, and we all head to the Tourismo shuttle. A bit later, and we are on our way. In the bus we meet Nick: an Australian by way of Hong Kong and California. He is super cool, so we chat him up until we reach base. Here we are served a monster breakfast – more food than I’ve had in weeks. I am pretty thrilled. As I stuff my face with toast and eggs, I consider this river.

We are rafting the Pascua, a class III-IV river and, according to the guide who busses us up to the departure site, home of some of the best rapids in CR. Whoot! At the top, we meet our guide, a toned sixteen year old named Ricky, who takes it upon himself to flirt us to death. Well, a little flirting I can handle, that walk from the top of the mountain down to our rafts I cannot. I can feel the blisters forming as we reach the bottom and receive our gear. We have been briefed on safety techniques, and I am ready to brave this rio. Heck yes! Feel the excitement!

Soon we are rafting. It is “forward, back paddle, stop, and everyone get down!” over the best water ride ever. So much fun. I wish I could describe it more, but it is all sensations and commands in my head. But Hannah took lots of pictures with her water camera, so if those turn out, we’ll have dozens of thousand word photos, no?

We do pull over for lunch, where the crew basically prepares a buffet on the bottoms of our rafts. It is pretty awesome. I eat my weight in pineapple (okay, not really, but I probably could!), and decide that river cheesecake is the thing. Remind me to make it for you someday.

Then, back on the river. I admit, it is not easy rowing and pushing and pulling, but I love it. And when it is over and I have to walk back to camp on my blistered pies, I don’t even care. I am going to do it again... maybe with Alli. Oh I love rafting!

After buying a t-shirt at base camp and getting some final pictures with Nick, we board the bus home. The ride back to town is heinous. This very opinionated man spends the entire ride (which is about four hours due to a horrible accident that stops traffic for two hours) telling his comrades (most of which are under 15) his thoughts on politics, video games, and television. And those kids soak it up. It’s not so much that he is uninteresting, but dear lord, who talks that much? I feel sorry for those impressionable children. But I have to give it to him – he has the gift of gab. It is a bit mesmerizing to watch. But darn, I wish I had brought something to do.

Finally, we do make it home. At least, sort of. We are dropped off in the middle of San Jose, so we have to make our way to the bus stops. And, as luck is with me today, my bus is waiting on me. So, half an hour later, I am arriving at my stop, and after the quick walk home, I pull myself into my house. I am tired and hungry and greedily devour the soup my mamá tica feeds me. Bless her tica soul. Then it is off to bed. Never mind that it is 8:30. I am exhausted, and that, my dears, means sleep to me.

¡Buenas noches!

From Churches to Wizadry...

2007-07-16T15:55:00.000-07:00

Day 12, Thursday, July 12

Today is a great day. I can just feel it when I wake up. Today is my day, and I am grateful after the week of self-doubt and travel anxiety. I am ready to be happy.

I get up, take a shower, eat some breakfast with my abuela tica... you know, the usual. I pack my bag for school and then work on some homework. Then, about five minutes before I need to leave for the bus, I rethink my packing situation. I left my guide book and camera at home yesterday to save room, and I ended up needing them. Today I am planning on not taking my computer, so I can just lug my small bag around Cartago. But at the last minute, I change my mind. For some reason, I feel like I am going to need it. So I take everything out of my small bag and repack the large. I am running a bit later than usual, yet I still get to the stop before Alicia, so I guess it is all good. :D

I get to school and pull out my computer to check my e-mail and other things you do on the internet. When the bell rings, I head to class, where we meet for Cartago. As a group, we walk down the street and load the forty minute bus. The trip is not bad: Hannah shows me how to knit. I learned once, a long time ago, but I easily forget things. She shows me how to cast on and do simple stitches, and that keeps me pleasantly occupied until we are almost to Cartago. At this point I have to stop, for I have once again underestimated my motion sickness. When we climb off the bus, I feel like I will most definitely hurl. But a few deep breaths and I am okay. But this makes me wonder: what is motion sickness? What brings it on? Why do I always burp when it attacks? And why do deep breaths settle you down?

The first thing I notice about Cartago is the size. This city is huge... and it is relatively empty. There are very few people milling about, and those who are (milling about) are concentrated in the main plaza. I love it here. It is so much nicer than San Jose. Now this could be due to the lack of people, but I think the large white basilica that stands right dab in the center plaza has something to do with it also.

Ronny takes us up to La Basílica de los Ángeles to observe la gente. We are standing around, looking at statues and the like, when a line of people approaching the altar catches my attention. It is not the line itself that has me staring; it is the way the people move. All are on their knees, shuffling along, slowly but surely drawing near their goal. I stand transfixed, unable to remove my eyes from the humble spectacle. And suddenly, I feel near tears. I have missed church. I have missed the intense devotion, the true belief I see here. It is strong and beautiful, and I feel great appreciation for the sinners.

Ronny pulls us along, and I admire the confessionals in the church, which are much more the traditional sort (with the separate rooms and screen – think The Godfather) than the chair to chair confessions we do today in the states. I think I might prefer the screen... I don’t know; sometimes confession still weirds me out. We move on to look at the statues, and I notice one with a headstone in front of it from the eighteen hundreds. What a story, to be buried inside a highly visited church. Ronny, after showing us around, has us sit and simply watch the people pray. We are to write down our reactions in order to write un ensayo when we get back to class.

I think about the facts we have learned as I watch the procession of crawlers and listen to the voices of those praying. This basilica is important as it is the spot where the Virgin Mary, the patron of CR, appeared to a little indigenous girl. She appeared in the form of a doll, and no matter how the doll was removed, it would always return to the rock where it was found. So they built a church there, and they called the city Cartago.

I listen as the prayers of the women mingle with uplifted songs. Their words are passionate and true, but I do not listen to understand, only to feel. So I am of course loath to leave. Just before we depart, I hear the bells begin to ring, and as the resonating sound mixes with the rich praise, I can do naught but smile.

The statues here reflect the beauty and the tradition of the people. There is one of the Virgin with baby Jesus: the protector of all children. And my favorite, which I run back in to take a picture of, is one of God with Jesus at his right hand. Jesus is holding his cross, and the two of them stand on clouds of angels. It seems an apt description to me, a celebration and reminder of God’s love and Jesus’ suffering. If you’re Christian that is. If not, it is still a nice statue.

We take some time to ask some locals why they are visiting the church and what their views on Mary are. This leads to an interesting discussion with an older lady who turns it back on us: What are we doing here? Isn’t that the question.

We lunch at McDonalds (why not?), where I order a Junior Pak (say it with me: hūn-yor pak), and receive a strawberry shortcake doll (at Hannah’s persuasion). Hannah and I chat with Ronny while we eat – he’s a pretty fun teacher.

After a bit more walking around, we hop the bus back to school, where we have an hour to describe our experience at the church. Before class is over, Ronny informs us that for Tuesday we have to come up with a ten minute speech... y’know, to practice for the oral part of our exam on Thursday. But, on the up side, it can be about anything we desire. Still, crap.

Alicia was supposed to have gotten our Harry Potter tickets at lunch, but that fell through, do to the insanely long lines at the mall. So she heads over after school to see what she can do. Therefore, I find that I do need my computer! What great planning. ;) I work (put blogs up, finally send a reply e-mail to the one that upset me so last week, put pics on facebook) until my computer dies. Then I finish postcards and put them in the mail; as of now, I have only two left to send.

Alicia shows up and tells us that she got tickets to the 7:00 movie at the mall. Hannah and Beth and I decide to hang out ‘til then, so we do dinner at the mall and meet the girls for the movie. NOTE: We met a girl named Heather today, who came here on her own from Miami and is looking for friends. She’s a nice girl, and we might go to church with her on Sunday. That’s all.

So... Harry Potter. AMAZING. I am very wary, because, well, I very much disliked the fourth movie, but this is phenomenal. From the beginning, it claims to be my favorite HP film (except maybe the first). The flashbacks, the old footage, the relationships, the camera angles; I am drawn in. It is beautifully directed, with wonderful cinematography, and a very interesting lack of sound. At intense moments, instead of a full orchestra, there is silence. It is so very different from the others, and for that I love it. The fifth book stands out to me as different, so it makes sense that the movie should as well. Marvelous. And the best part is that while many things are brought up, nothing is really left unexplained. Alicia says that she would have been lost had not read the book, but Jackie (who is not a book follower) says she understood it all.

After the movie, I sit there, soaking it in, per usual. But this group of kids is not the stay ‘til the end type. That upsets me a little. I don’t like to jump out of a movie; I want to savor it. In the same way, I don’t like discussing movies immediately. I know this annoys people sometimes (like it used to annoy Sean), but I want to absorb it. Yet as we take the bus home, I do talk with Alicia and Jackie and Fumi about why this one was wonderful, and how happy I am to love it.

The bus group walks me to my house (it is late, and I really don’t want to take a taxi). I think they now realize why I can’t walk that distance alone late at night – it is a long ways from the main road. I am grateful for them. And for HP! I would like to start reading the sixth book, but I won’t – I need to sleep. So instead, I pick up my knitting and try to cast again. Practice! I like knitting.

Finally, I get tired enough to try the sleep thing. Here is the funny part: I have been more and more tired everyday, but tonight, when I need to sleep, I am too riled up with excitement to shut my eyes. But sleep does come in the end, which is good. Tomorrow is Friday the thirteenth, and I’m going to raft a river.

Third time's a charm, and that makes me a charmer. - Alicia

2007-07-12T16:22:00.000-07:00

Day 9, Monday, July 9 – Day 11, Wednesday, July 11

Bang bang, Maxwell’s silver hammer came down upon my head.

Gentle reader, I am tired. And so, in order to quickly catch you up on a rather uneventful week, we are going to attempt a different type of post. Ready? I know I am. ;)

What I have studied this week:
The subjunctive (what else is new)
More specifically:
1. Using the present subjunctive to indicate the future
2. The imperfect subjunctive. Y’know, the fun stuff.
My sentence for the week: No importa lo que diga (regular subj.), nunca creeré (future) que él haya dicho (see number 1) la verdad. It literally means: No matter what he says, I will never believe that he has told the truth.

Essays written and ideas discussed:
1. Genome project
2. Advances in science (you try writing about back surgeries and c-sections. Es un poco difícil.)
3. Poverty – due to too many people in too small a space. Costa Ricans have the same problem with Nicaraguans as we have with Mexicans. The only difference is that Costa Rica is about half the size of Arkansas... and has twice as many people. So, it is a little crowded. It is a big problem.
4. Things I was and was not allowed to do as a child (350 palabras exactly man!). We only had to write two essays this week. Does Ronny know? I thought we had to write four for the University rules...
5. Harry Potter – it is a big deal in our class. :)

Games played:
1. Dominoes con palabras! I have to say that I really enjoyed this game. I did not grow up playing dominoes, but I know how. But okay, I am a dork, and anything where you have to put together words and sentences is muy divertido para mi. I guess that’s why I love scrabble.
2. Scrabble! It was totally una sorpresa! Ronny told us earlier in the morning that we would never play another game (some people complained about dominoes (everyone but me) and taboo (only me)). But we begged and said we’d be good! And he changed his mind apparently. I love love love scrabble. It is my favorite board game, and that is because I have patience. We play at my Granny’s house all the time, and my brothers and cousins get angry at how long I take to take my turn. But my words are always good. It is worth the wait. I don’t think I have ever lost. I won in Spanish too. Okay, Hannah would say Ronny won... I was just on his team. I would say... yeah, she’s right. ;) Okay by me!
3. Boggle. I like boggle, but we played for two hours this morning! I’m really just bitter because I was really off today and could see very few words in the little square. But Hannah was on fire. She was in the boggle zone.

Things that have made me happy this week:
1. Talking with my family. I have really upped the conversation level in my house this week. After dinner we have started sitting around and talking, and it is mutual. They are not just talking at me; they are talking with me. It is so cool.
2. Ben Lee sings “Catch My Disease.” How I didn’t know this before is beyond me. I’m not the quickest dog in the pack.
3. Dance class. I love dancing. I do.
4. Reading A Clash of Kings. Thanks Sean for letting me borrow it!
5. My friends. I am really thankful for Beth and Hannah and Alicia and the others. They make everyday an adventure and every story more wonderful to tell. I appreciate them so much.
6. Talking to my daddy. I cannot say how much hearing his voice put me at ease. I miss my family so very much (more than I thought I could, especially Alex!), and talking to him was just what I needed.

Important words:
1. I wonder = supongo or pienso
2. Squirrel = ardilla
3. Fogata = little fire
4. atropellar = to run over
5. charquito = puddle
6. caca = poo (apparently, I was supposed to already know this)

Quote for the week:
“¡¿Dónde está mi supertraje?!”

Stories!
1. When I told my padres ticas of my plans for the weekend, they had different reactions. My papa tica thinks I am hilarious. He says rafting will be beautiful, and he commends my sorpresa decision. My mama tica just shook her head. She asked me if my parents knew what I was doing. I said yes... but they’d rather not know. She laughed and said “Well, we’re your family now, and I say you can’t go!” It was great.
3. This was on the news last week and again last night: There is a “doctor” in CR who has been parading around offering a cure for headaches: drilling holes in the skull to release pressure. But he isn’t licensed. So he went to jail. And yesterday, he got out. My mama tica was way disgusted – she is not a fan of the justice system here.
4. Our electricity went out yesterday... halfway through my shower. I was so cold! So I just washed my hair. A clean body is not worth freezing water.
5. Speaking of water, Alicia told me that while we were in Monteverde, a family died when water from the mountains came over a trickling waterfall and engulfed them. Only the five year old survived. What horrible news this week.
6. And a funny story: We played boggle, and I was losing, big time. So I just decided to make a joke and wrote down Trogdor as one of my words. It broke the rules, so I explained that before I told them the word. It was just supposed to be funny. But no one knew Trogdor. So they just looked at me. Then Marissa said: “But you can’t do that.” Oh boy.

What has been on my mind all week:
- People should not be at school if they don’t want to work. I have more to say, but my battery is almost dead. I will explain tomorrow.

My most important accomplishment this week:
- I got those postcards in the mail! Yay!

What I want to do right now: watch a movie. I have wanted to for days, but it never works out! Tomorrow the plan is to go see Harry Potter (after Cartago! Yay!). Fingers crossed.

Hey, Beth's turning 20!

2007-07-12T16:21:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 8 = Beth’s 20^th Birthday!

Quick overrun of Sunday, because I am behind, and this weekend was crazy:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETHESDA!

Once again with the up at five, yet when I get up at five, I’m not so tired. Que extraño. We eat breakfast at the bakery again before boarding the 6:30 bus to San Jose. It is a four and a half hour trip, but I don’t mind. I get to read, and I am grateful. But by the end, I am hot from lack of air – that window had it out for us, and I get too sick on busses for my liking.

I sit with Beth, so at 7:53 we take pictures. You know what I forgot to tell you yesterday? Yesterday was 7/7/07 and at 7:07 we took pictures. I was pretty excited. ;)
Anyways. Beth’s birthday. It is a big deal too.

We get back and head to the Hamburger Factory for lunch. I have a habit of eating even when I am not hungry, just because everyone else is eating. I need to stop that. I’m sure that is why I am gaining weight. After lunch, I take off for my house where I engage in a two hour sloth nap. I get up and straighten my hair, a rather useless move as it decides to rain tequila and whiskey as soon as I step outside. Oh poo.

I meet the girls at our school stop, and we head to La Fabrica, a pizza factory this time, for dinner. I’m not hungry (after lunch today – yuck), so I sit around and take pictures. I am just enjoying the company – Beth, Hannah, Alicia, Sara, and Jackie – the Monteverde crew. I am going to order dessert, but we are pretty sure we are being kicked out when the place starts closing around us. It is only like six, but it is Sunday. My plan is to sing Beth “Happy Birthday” over dessert, but the change in plans throws me off. Instead we walk to the mall and order ice cream. I completely forget to serenade my lovely friend.

After hanging out for a bit, we all head home, where I fill my mamá tica in on my weekend. Then I work on some postcards (y’know, the ones that were supposed to go out last week) and hit the hay. Moo.

One last thing: Beth said it was a good birthday, despite the fact (or maybe because) it was understated. But she was in a weird mood today, so I hope she meant it. I think all birthdays should be as good as you can make them, and as her friend, I want to do that for her. I hope that she just missed her family. That I can understand. I sure miss mine!

Hip hop, hip hop anonymous!

2007-07-12T16:04:00.001-07:00

Saturday = one of the best days ever

Zip, zip, zip to my lou. Zip, zip, zip to my lou. Zip, zip, zip to my lou. Zip through the air my darling.

So, waking up at five is my new favorite thing. ;) Esta mañana, I get up and shower (despite my effort to convince myself it is not worth it). The shower is blissfully hot, so much so that I ignore the lack of pressure. The best thing about the bathroom – you can totally see through the door. It has been a funny experience for Alicia and me. After the shower, I am craving some coffee. This is when I realize that I can and will stop drinking coffee when I go back to the states. I hate the Monteverde cafe, and after a few sips, dispose of the unknowing offender. And thus, I do not have a cup of coffee all weekend. I don’t like the coffee in the states, therefore, I won’t drink it.

We meet at 5:45 and walk to a little bakery for breakfast (apple cinnamon bun? ¡Qué rico!) before catching the 6:30 bus to Santa Elena Reserve. We meet our guide David and shell out a dollar to rent some boots. These end up being my best investment of the day. My first thought as we begin the two hour hike through the reserve is “Damn, now this is a rainforest.” And it is. All the things you have imagined about a rainforest exist here. The trees are light and airy, and a layer of mist pours from the ground itself.

I listen attentively and snap pictures as David describes the wonders of el bosque to us. Here is what I learned (see Facebook for pics):
1. Mariposas like to get drunk in order to swerve in flight. Birds can only fly in a straight line. Good to know...
2. The cloud forest of Monteverde has over 500 species of trees; US and Europe and Canada combined have 380.
3. Honey cures cataracts.
4. Monos (monkeys), though cool, are now a big problem in Manuel Antonio. They only have so much room to move, and due to humans feeding them, they are inbreeding and multiplying at too fast a rate to sustain.
5. Nightshade grows here – don’t eat it.
6. Here’s something for all you Arkansans: Feeding sugar water to hummingbirds speeds up their hearts and shortens their lives by a year.
7. Night bugs have big antennas in order to sense bats. How cool is that?!
8. Have I told you guys about the strangler fig? Yes? Well shucks. I sure love them.

Toward the end of the tour a light sprinkle began to descend. We joke with David that we are happy to see the rain – it is the first we have encountered. We laugh – it is finally a rainy rainforest! Hahaha. How naive we are. We decide to take the shortcut back so we can get lunch before our afternoon activity. Thank goodness we did. About five minutes down the shortcut my umbrella turns into a Chihuahua facing a Doberman. This rain turns cold and evil and soon the only things keeping me from falling face down in the mud are my boots. Thanks God for las botas.

By the time we make it back, I am soaked through. Completely. And the ride back is similarily miserable; the driver is hot I suppose – he has the windows down. Bastard.

We make to las Cabinas and I change into clean clothes, except that the only I have are shorts and a tank top. I’m pretty cold. I hang my clothes over the rail and pray that they dry before the afternoon. Las Cabinas has free internet, so I run to check my e-mail, and find, to my utter dismay that a little girl from work has died. She was sick before I left, but hearing it is still incredibly sad.

I talk to Beth for a bit about the situation and then return to my room to warm up. Alicia is in bed reading, so I join her, pulling the warm blankets high up around me. I am so excited about getting to read (I am taking a break from journaling... which is why this is so late), but just as I pick up my book, the girls come get us for lunch. Bah.

We walk next door to Mamá Tica’s, and I order gallo pinto con huevo. It is pretty much amazing. After lunch, we walk to town to look around, and Hannah and I check out the magnet situation. We are indecisive and decide to wait until later that night. Instead we go to the bus station and get our tickets for the morning. The plan is to go back early so we can hang out for Beth’s birthday tomorrow!

The bus for Aventura meets us at 2:30 to take us to the ropes course. My pants are dry for the journey, but I have to borrow a jacket from Jackie. On the shuttle over we meet some guys who are teaching English in the city. Ting quickly befriends us and becomes our comic relief for the trip. And then, there we are.

I love zipping. We gear up (though I feel a little foolish in my gouchos and pink tennis shoes – I sure look like I never do anything outdoorsy), and I can feel my excitement rising. And nervousness. We get up to the first cable and I feel it rising... that familiar fear at being off the ground – can I do this? But there is no time to think. I just do it. They strap me in; I pick up my feet, and suddenly I am at the other side. Oh my. How glorious. I think I might try it again.... The third cable is stunning, zooming past the canopy and enlisting all the beauty of nature. Soon we are ushered to a high platform and told to jump. Okay, not really, but it does feel a bit like that. We are strapped to a rope and told to pick up our knees. Then they push... and just like that, you are Tarzan. I see Hannah do it, and my stomach is in my throat. Okay, I like zipping, but they are asking me to jump off the freakin’ platform. No! But I have to – it is important to me. So I get up there and don’t show my fear. And then, right before he tells me to pick my knees up, I am calm. Dead calm. And I enjoy the hell out of that fall. (Oh, there was a repel as well, where we were basically dropped twenty feet and stopped right before we hit the ground. It was fun too.) I can’t wait to do it again...

After the swing, one of the zipping guides asks me how I am. “Great!” I reply. “Then head up that trail to the best part!” he exclaims. But wait? I thought he said before that the sorpresa (swing) was the best part? But I follow the trail, the long trail, up to where Hannah waits. This cable really is the best. It takes us from one mountain to another, cutting across a huge valley, lush and fertile. I am breathless. Then I do it again!

I am in love, thinking that nothing could be better, when we are told to hike up to the last cable. And what a hike. I am completely wasted by the time I get up there and am grateful for the backup so I can sit and recover. They are running a bit behind, so they tell us to pair up. Hannah and I grab each other and clamber up to the platform. They strap me in and tell Hannah to wrap her legs around my waist from the back – we’re doing this thing together. She is the brakes; I’m just along for the ride. This cable is not the longest, but I think it is my favorite. It is a bit slower, and Hannah and I take the extra time to completely absorb the view. I am suspended high above a flourishing valley, and I can think of nothing I would rather be doing. I only wish I never had to make it to the other side.

But make it we do, and I turn to wait for Beth, who I am afraid has not enjoyed this trip quite as much I as I have. But I do hope she has had some fun. We give back our gear back at the station and climb back into the van. I am alive with energy and suddenly very excited for next weekend.

We decide to walk into town (and town is such an overstatement for this small assortment of buildings) for dinner, but due to dinero constraints cannot find a place in our budget. So back to Mamá Tica’s we go! And I am so glad we do. I have panqueques with bananos inside. Oh my. They are heaven. Such heaven. I get a mango juice in agua as well, but I’d rather not remember that.

Back at the room, I claim my now dry clothes (except for my jacket) and get ready for bed. Alicia and I are sitting up talking when Hannah and Beth burst in with the cheese and crackers and caramel we bought the previous day. So we have ourselves a little sleepover party... minus the sleep. When all the cheese is gone, Hannah and Beth head off to bed, and Alicia and I do the same... except instead of sleeping, we talk for another hour. Yay for new friends. Night!

I'll Strangle You Fig!

2007-07-10T16:27:00.000-07:00

Weekend 2: Friday, July 6^th

My grandma, what a green forest you have!
Why, the better to drop porcupines on you, my dear!

The sneaky sun begins its slow ascent into the sky as I get up and ready myself for the day. After a short debate with myself (these things should be televised: such good arguments), I bipass my shower to straighten my hair. This may seem trivial to all you boys out there... or girls with perfect hair, but to those of us who battle Mr. Frizz and his gang of fly-aways everyday, a break from the hassle is well worth the time. But it does not take much time at all. I am not used to my short hair timing, and within 15 minutes it is straight and hassle free. Yay!

I gather my things, finish packing, and am ready to run at barely 5:30. That was a very productive thirty minutes. I meet Jackie and Alicia at the Gimnasio del Este at the top of my street, and Alicia tells me that when she called this morning, the taxi lady said to just flag one down. So we do. And he is good. We zip left, then right, dodging traffic and barely acknowledging street signs and lights. He takes the back roads in order to miss the center town traffic and within ten minutes we are sitting in front of the Coca Cola station. It would have taken at least thirty minutes if we had taken the bus (they don’t run that early, which is why we had to hail a cab). So, if you are with friends (to split the bill), taxis can be fun. I withdraw my judgement.

It does not take long for the other girls to join us and board the bus to Monteverde. I have decided that while bus trips in and of themselves are not an overly pleasant experience, this trip is rather nice. The road is smooth, and my conversation with Alicia is challengingly honors related. It is nice. Alicia and I talk a lot, and it is great to feel that I am making a new friend. :)

We make a stop where I buy some slightly soft M&Ms that I swear are the best I have ever tasted and a pound cake, both of which Alicia and I devour. I think we are craving sugar. The rest of the trip is bumpy... way bumpy. As in, I think we traded our bus for an insane merry-go-round. But the views are stunning, and I go a bit picture crazy. I love the mountains.

Once in Santa Elena, we are quickly pointed toward our hotel: a lovely building built into the side of the mountain. Cabinas Vista al Golfo has private baths, hammocks (which we immediately take advantage of), and an amazing view. All for an extremely low price (ten dollars a night). I am in love.

I am lounging in a hammock listening to our options for the weekend when a little face peeks over the side at me. I sit up to say hi, and just like that, she plops in with me. As I help her get settled and get up myself, her mom comes up. “Why don’t you ask her if you can share?” I laugh and help her in, but the hammock is a bit faulty, and she almost falls out. The girls are laughing at me – “Don’t let her fall!” I exclaim, “I won’t! I’m good with kids!” I miss work. I miss my kids. I talk to the young mother for a while as Alex, four, swings in the hammock and Jackson, six months, sits in a pouch tied to his mother’s chest. I am impressed that she and her husband feel comfortable enough to take their children with them on their trips. It is so cool.

We decide to take a tour to the Monteverde Cheese (Chesse!) Factory. It sounds silly, but the short tour is actually pretty interesting. I learn how cheese is made and stored, and we learn about the history of Monteverde (it was founded by Quakers!). Our guide, Greybeans (okay, that’s not his name, but that’s what he said!), tells us all something very cool: what they do with the whey. They send it to a hog farm up the road. They feed that waste to cows and then, after a purifying treatment, put it in the river. Therefore, they get rid of over ninety percent of the contaminants before sending it on. How cool is that? All that extra work has helped them open a meat factory. I cringed during this part of the slide show. Ugh. I never want to see so much meat again.

On the walk back to las Cabinas, I begin a list of things we love about Monteverde. It will go up with Sunday’s blog. We pass a bug world, a serpent museum, and gorgeous views on our walk, and I realize I could spend a week here happily. It is so beautiful, and there is a lot to do! A little dog joins us for the rest of the trip back, and we dub him our perrito tico. Unfortunately, a dog near las Cabinas scares him away. How rude.

We make it back just in time to meet our bus for the Night Tour. There we are transported to a little forest and offered rain ponchos and flashlights. We follow our guide, Antonio, into the forest, and are rewarded with beautiful scenery as night approaches. The tour starts off slow – Antonio is not as enthusiastic as the others... but then he can’t be or he will scare off the animals – but once I realize that taking pictures is pointless, I have a great time! I absorb everything, including a sloth, a sleeping bird, a couple of porcupines – they look like monkeys! – and... the ant colony from hell. I see them walking along a log, and I am fascinated. We stop for a second and then move on... but suddenly I start itching. I shine the flashlight down and see that my feet are covered in ants. I start stomping and quickly walking, but I cannot move fast enough. Finally, the group moves forward, and I can shake off most of the ants. But now my feet really itch; they got some damn good bites in.

My favorite part of the walk is the strangler fig. It is a tree that drops its seeds on the ground, which are then eaten by a small animal. This animal defecates in the top of another tree, and the roots of the fig become vines that extend down around the host tree. They attach to the ground and begin to suck the nutrients from the host tree. In a matter of years (many years), the inside tree rots away and leaves only a hollow fig tree. Toward the end, we get to see up in one that is a couple centuries old. It is fascinating. I find myself wishing Matt were here – as I have many times on this trip, but I know Sean would love this too. They’re plant people.

One thing I have noticed is the lack of rain. It rains in the afternoons in town, but hardly ever on our trips. I am not complaining, but I find it interesting that we have escaped all of our tours unscathed. As we exit the forest, I am reflecting on this fact, when suddenly I hear Beth shout. Right above her head is a big porcupine! We laugh for minutes, and I take a few pictures, but we are not positive he is not going to fall right out of the tree. It is starting to sprinkle, so we abandon our new friend and head back to the building.

Our bus picks us up within minutes, and the trip back is as bumpy as the one there, basically a roller coaster. Once in town, Beth and Sara and I get a table at a little “soda” while the other girls try to find an ATM. The food is okay; I get some spaghetti and a chocolate milk shake – which is more milk than shake. But I am tired and hot, and it is good to me. After dinner, we check out a few tourist shops, and Hannah and I decide to return the next day to find our magnets.

Back at the Cabinas, I walk up to el balcón to see the view at night. It is very windy, so I only stay a minute. I feel proud – I have chosen a great place (okay, the school has chosen a great place). After a few minutes I skedaddle off to my room and climb into bed with Alicia, my roommate for this trip. I set my alarm to take a shower in the morning, and Alicia and I talk until exhaustion takes over. ¡Buenas noches de Monteverde!

CR = Trade agreements and pornos?

2007-07-10T07:44:00.000-07:00

Day 8, Thursday, July 5^th

Buenos Dias rainy day. Rainy days either add an air of beauty to life... or put me in a foul mood. And as my mood has been in a funk for a couple of days, there is no beauty in today. Instead I am making lists in my head of my faults and things I want to change. It is a destructive attitude, and one I do not appreciate in myself, so I try to shake it and put on a smile.

Today in class I decide to ask Ronny about TLC; it is spray painted on all the walls in town. Everyone says that what makes CR stand out is the intelligent graffiti, and now I want to know what it means. And so Ronny talks so us for a time about CAFTA/TLC and what the trade agreement means to Latin America and CR in general. There are few times when I say “yay USA!” and unfortunately this is just another time to be disappointed. The trade agreement places power with the rich and takes away tourism and trade from the poor. Ronny explains how in order to work, both sides in the agreement need to export similar amount of goods. But that is not possible. The US would overpower the economy within years, and CR could not possibly stay stable. Argentina collapsed within months of joining. Politics disgust me sometimes... most times.

The whole discussion had me reflecting on the hopelessness of living in a country that you know is on the downslide. I find myself grateful that I do not permanently live in CR, but am hit with the realization that if we don’t make some changes, the US is headed in that direction as well. I need to do some research on the subject; I’d like to know more about this trade agreement. Do you guys know anything?

Right before break, we learn a very fun and addictive song: La Guitarra. “No quiero trabajar. No quiero ir a estudiar. No me quiero casar. Quiero tocar la guitarra todo al dia / Y que la gente se enamore de mi voz.” Me encanta. :) Hannah and I can’t get it out of our heads!

I feed my coffee addiction with less sugar than usual and then return to the great world of subjuntivo. Today we cover adjectival clauses and using the present subjunctive to signify el futuro. Bah. It makes sense on paper, but shoot me when I try to speak.

Finally it is lunch time, and I make a beeline for the phones. I forget that today we are going to take Beth to that pizza place and am a little disappointed that I don’t have more time to talk to Bren. I consider sending the girls on but decide to save my extra minutes to call my Dad next week. Aunque my talk with Bren is short, it is so nice to hear her voice. She fills me in on some of the activities that have been going on, as well as their Fourth activities. Then she expresses her desire that I be careful during my rafting next weekend. I tell her about mi sorpresa... to which she responds that perhaps I should not tell her everything. Funny mama.

After my convo, the girls and I walk down to the pizzaria and order our half pizzas. We get there a bit late and see many of our classmates eating, and I hope that we will get our food in time to eat. But today they are quick, and soon we are chowing down and enjoying some wonderful Té Frío. :)

Back in class, we have a fun afternoon planned. We get to watch a movie called El Caribe – a semi-historical account of an oil company’s attempt to mine in fishing waters on the CR Caribbean coast. Well, that part is about a third of the film, and it is well done. I enjoy the dynamic and find myself wanting to know more. This is because the other two thirds of the film focus on a love... no, sex triangle of a woman, her husband, and the woman’s younger half-sister. I am pretty sure I have never watched a porno in school before. And I am pretty sure I have never seen a more frustrating, disturbing, and all around bad film as this. Before the movie, Ronny told us that while El Caribe is not great, it is very good compared to the movies that usually came out of CR. Afterwards, I look at Hannah. God help me should I have to see a typical CR film. We talk with Ronny for a bit after school about the movie, but I think I cannot give it a fair chance. Nopity nopity nope.

I wish I had more time in the afternoons. Two hours just is not enough. I want to e-mail, put up blogs, facebook, put up pics, and so much more, and there just is not time. Today I send my honors letter and make my internet rounds.

I am glad that I have gotten to talk to Bren today. I am not missing people like I did yesterday, but I still like to keep in contact. I think that I will love these next three and a half weeks, but when it is time to go home, I will be ready. Maybe someday I can do the semester abroad thing, but for now, my five weeks is plenty.

Beth and Hannah and I walk to the bus stop again, and like Tuesday, their bus comes first. I notice a bus pull up behind us, and on it is the mark of Empresa Sabanilla. I run to jump on, only to notice when he asks for twenty extra colones that I have once again jumped on the wrong bus. But this time I do not pay. I jump back off and walk back to the stop... only to see my correct bus pull up. So I run to jump on and pass Hannah and Beth, who did not get on their bus due to crowds. But they did see my mistake. Silly me.

I make it home in one piece, and take to organizing my pictures from the last week so I can empty my camera for the weekend. Dinner tonight is some sort of rice dish; I hardly eat. When I was organizing before dinner, I had stumbled across pics of my fam, and now I ask my familia Tica if they would like to see them. So I spend the next several minutes showing them photos of my dad, Bren, my brothers and sisters, as well as those of my best guy and girl friends. It makes me happy to share this with them.

I spend the next couple of hours journaling and packing. But soon I am ready for bed. The plan is to take a cab at 5:45 in the morning with Alicia and Jackie from our bus stop, and I still want to straighten my hair. Entonces, when everything seems in order, I crawl under the covers and will myself to sleep.

¡Sopréndame!

2007-07-10T07:38:00.000-07:00

Day 7, Wednesday, July 4^th

So... I’m still tired when I wake up this morning. Is it ever going to go away? I am starting to think not. I drag myself around the room and to breakfast, where I hardly eat. This is new – I think my abuela tica thinks I am sick, but she says nothing. She is part right. Today I am homesick. Big time. I think it is partly because today is the Fourth of July! And I guess it is partly because I just miss people.

I make my lunch (yay! No necesito pagar por este hoy.) and take the bus with Alicia. This morning in class we discuss all sorts of fun stuff: racism, life in CR, Ronny’s life, the fourth of July. It is a great morning for discussion, and despite my tiredness, I join in. Thankfully though, it is mostly Ronny talking. The Independence Day talk turns the convo to customs and family and then, with little sway, to boyfriends. I turn bitter and sullen and suddenly want our fun chat time to come to a close, and fast.

I am still upset at lunch and glad I do not to brave the long line for an uncooperating stomach. Instead, I slowly eat my sandwich and make sure our plans for the weekend are solidified. I really cannot wait. I want to call my parents but run out of time. So now I am antsy – I have to call them after school.

This afternoon we study nominal clauses and do a listening activity before immersing ourselves in a torturous game of taboo. If you ever wonder whether you know much vocab, play some taboo. It is great for destroying confidence. Somehow, Hannah and I still win – we’ll say it is because we are smart... and not because we have Ronny on our team. :)

I bolt as soon as the bell releases us, and I get to the phone booths with nadie waiting. Unfortunately, I cannot get the card to work, and I am forced to leave to find help. Bethany’s friend Dinah gives me the international code and tells me what to do, but now all of the booths are full. We want to see Ratatouille today, and I do not want to make us late, so I decide to wait and try to call at the mall.

At the mall, we buy our tickets for an hour later and walk around. I find a pay phone and am suddenly desperate to talk to someone in my family. BUT, the phones here won’t work with the code. I am crushed. Despite the ice cream I bought with the girls, my mood is not one I like. I apologize to Beth and Hannah and try to snap out of it (what Bren would tell me to do). I do my best to ignore the pangs of homesickness that dart at me.

In order to see the movie, we have to wait in a line that stretches from one side of the mall to the other. Due to the length, we are not sure we will get seats, but soon we are in the theater, settling in on the first couple rows for the cutest movie I have ever seen in Spanish. I will just say that I love love love Ratatouille. Maybe I am just craving movies (true). Maybe I am just missing people, and this movie makes me think of them (true too). Maybe I just love animated films (another verdad)! Whatever the reason, this movie is phenomenal. I hate rats, but this movie almost had me empathizing with them. Almost. Quotes from the film: “¡Sopréndame!” and “Nopity, nopity, nope.” I want to see it again in English. :)

I am sick of my hair. I said this when it was long, but the constant battle I am having with frizz is bothering me. I want to straighten it tonight for tomorrow, but I have been saying that for days. Entonces, vamos a ver.

In order to celebrate the Fourth properly (supongo), we go out to Fridays. Everyone is dressed up, but as the girls and I just came from the movie, we are pleasantly casual. Everyone from school is there, so our movie group splits from the others and gets a small table. Dinner is nice – hamburgers. Everyone has a great time, but I notice Hannah being a bit quiet. I ask her what’s up, and she tells me that James would really like this place. She misses him. I understand... too well. We just sit there for a bit, thinking. Then we try to make light of the situation. After all, what good does it do to wallow in it? None.

I find a way to insult Bethany before the night is over, which is the highlight of course (sarcasm alert). Sometimes I wonder if my thoughts even make a stop in my brain before jumping to my mouth. Here, Bethany said that she didn’t care for some of the girls at the other table. Well, I like most of those girls, so before I know it, I am spouting “well, some of those girls don’t like you either.” What the hell? As soon as the words are out, I feel like slapping myself. And now Bethany won’t leave me alone. I feel like a donkey and refuse to discuss it further.

Thankfully, a rousing rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” coming from the balcony cuts short any inquisition that might have occurred. Hannah and I enjoy the song, but some of the girls at the table find it offensive. On the one hand, I get that. On the other, it is a tourist restaurant and it is freaking Independence Day. Let them sing. The only thing that gives me pause is when we are paying and the guy who started the serenade is talking to us. It sounds suspiciously like he has a British accent... now I am confused. But cualquier floats your boat kid.

Bethany and I take a cab home, and she once again tries to pry names from me. I tell her that it was only one person that expressed any dislike for her (true), and that I don’t remember what she said, so I can’t talk about it (sorta true). But I hate drama. Hate it. And here I have started it. So I divert until I can crush it. Ugh drama.

Once home, I wash my underwear. Sorry if that’s too much information, but this is a big deal to me. I put it off until I have none, and it is the one thing my family won’t wash (something about hanging it on the line). So I have to... and I am way tired. But after that is done, I journal for a bit and get in bed.

I have un ensayo to write en la mañana, but I find myself unable to concentrate. I just lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wishing I were at home. I know it is only a temporary thing, but it still sucks. And so, thinking about my loved ones, I slowly drift from consciousness.

E-mails and Chocolate Cookies

2007-07-09T15:14:00.000-07:00

Day 6, Tuesday, July 3^rd

And for every good day, there comes a bad. Not that today is bad per say, but boy am I tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired. Huh, that many ‘i’s look strange together. Oh boy. So tired. I find it strange that some mornings my mind is so groggy, and I understand nothing, when just the day before I was chatting away. Es loco.

Alicia and I bus to school, where she gushes over the Harry Potter poster... again. :) It makes me happy too. School today is all business. Grammar, grammar, grammar: nominal clauses, leer, escuchar y escribir. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Lunch rolls around, but the line is super long, so I settle down to wait... wait... oh crap! I have to make our reservations. The place we want to stay is booked (pooh), so I maneuver my way into the Spanish language enough to get the very nice receptionist at the school to find us a new place to stay. Los Cabinas Vista del Golfo, for $10 a night, is our best deal. So there it is. I also book our bus tickets and distribute plans. I feel accomplished... and a little hungry. Unfortunately, lunch is soon over, so I forgo food for more grammar. Yum. But I do get a dessert of Boggle, so I am happy.

I skip dance class today (although I love it!) in order to put up my blog from the weekend and do e-mail stuff. My day is going better, despite my lack of Spanish comprehension, and I am feeling great about being on top of blogging... until I check my e-mail. I see a letter from someone I had not thought to hear from, and it throws off my day. Now feeling confused and flustered, I busy myself with other tasks.

I buy some postcards (I want to have them in the mail tomorrow so people can get them before I return), and Hannah and Beth and I walk down the street to the grocery store. The plan was to buy food for lunches... but none of us are prepared. We all need an ATM, and I don’t have my card... and without money, we can’t buy groceries. So. Instead, we buy cheap cookies, and I get a Te Frió (que bueno!), and we hit the road.

Beth and Hannah’s bus comes first, so I chill and wait for mine. And wait. And wait. I finally see the “anilla” of Sabanilla and rush up to meet the bus. I hand him my 150 colones and wait for my change. Instead, the driver informs me that I am 20 short. Huh? Why is this bus more expensive? I hand it over, but suddenly I know I have made a mistake. A glance at the sign in front confirms my fear: this is not Sabanilla. This goes to Grandanilla. I pull out my map; if it passes my stop, I won’t get off. It doesn’t. And so, when the deceitful bus makes a right at the mall instead of a left, I hit the button.

I cross the heavy mall traffic, head down the street and around the corner and park myself near the University, where I figure I might be safe. But I admit: I’m nervous. It is getting dark fast, and I am not positive that this is where I need to be. The guy next to me is noisily eating something, but I stare straight ahead. Soon enough, I see a bus to my neighborhood, and the guy and I both stand up. But it zooms right by, leaving us both to wait on the next. As we sit back down, I notice the noisy snack in his hand. He has a sleeve of the exact same cheap cookies I have just bought. I smile. Somehow this man with his love of chocolate dipped cookies has made me feel safe and happy.

The next Sabanilla bus makes its way to us, and we are off to our respective destinations. I get off at the gymnasium and leave my cookie friend to the rest of his pleasant ride. Home at last, I put my things down and my clean laundry away (it is so nice of them!) before joining my family in the kitchen to discuss our days. “¿Cómo la fue?” is the question I get everyday when I get home: basically, how was it (your day)? Usually the answer is “bien” or something like it. Not today. Hoy fue dificil. My mamá tica asks me what went wrong, and I explain how some days I just cannot comprehend Spanish. She laughs and nods. It happens to everyone. Then I tell them about the bus. They laugh some more. Me and my bus stories. :) My mamá tica does tell me not to walk home at night anymore. It’s not really dangerous, but they would rather I take a taxi. That makes me nervous (I have never done the taxi thing here... and only once at home).

I am superhungry due to my lack of lunch, so I eat all of my chicken and rice... and there was a lot. I decline dessert fruit and hunker down in my room to attempt some postcards (yay for no homework – thank you Roni!). But I am tired. Really tired. And although I somehow stay awake until 10, I only am able to upload and organize pictures. My ability to function has ceased.

Yet before I fall asleep, I recall the e-mail I received earlier, and suddenly I really miss home. And it is only going to get worse...

Girls drink whiskey?

2007-07-05T16:24:00.000-07:00

Day 5, Monday, July 2^nd

Oh boy – back in the Spanish saddle I go! I have to admit, I am a little nervous about reclaiming my Spanish – I should not have spoken so much English this weekend. Just so, I am running a bit late this morning, so I hastily eat my breakfast and pack my bag: no tengo que hablar con nadie.

Alicia and I take the bus, and Brooke and Bethany tell us all about their trip (Matt Higgins getting drunk, Fumi running off, hiking uphill). I was sure we had the better trip, but theirs sounds fun too! They saw monkeys and huge iguanas! So, I am excited for Manuel Antonio.

We had no homework this weekend (yay!), so I work on my journal until the girls arrive. I can never really work after they get there. It is like trying to study with talkative friends. How much studying did we get done at those history study parties with Whitney? ;) We were lucky we came out with As.

Class is class – we continue our in-depth study of the subjunctive. Whoo subjunctive!

Hannah wants pizza for lunch, so we head down the street til we see a sign saying: 1 slice of pizza and a drink = 1000 colones (roughly two dollars). It sounds like a pretty good deal, so we duck in and place out orders. It takes a while, but the pizza is huge (half a small pizza) and the tea is delicious. For two bucks? We are psyched.

Pictionary is the game for the afternoon: one of my favorite games in Spanish thus far. Ronny is a much better artist than us, but we try. We have a lot of fun. After the game we have to take some of the pictures and write a story. Mine is as follows (roughly):

There was once an indigena named Fumi. He lived in a small village and loved to talk to animals. One day, a bull in the forest told Fumi where to find a magic well where he should make a wish. Fumi followed the instructions and made his wish for eternal life. A fairy appeared and said to Fumi: “Your wish has been granted, but all whom you fall in love with will die.”

Fumi left the forest and soon forgot the wish. He grew up and married a pretty indigena named Lina. Yet as the years passed, things began to change. Lina grew older and Fumi did not.

***things I forget now***

And so the centuries passed. Fumi bought a small store, but hired others to run it so he could wander his forest in peace. And every night he would sit on his roof and watch as life was born and died in front of him.

So. Somewhere between “matrimonia” and “techa,” the story became super triste. I am not so good at pumping out stories in an hour. Yikes.

After class, it is time to dance it up. It is my first dance class, but I find I love it; it is exactly like my “Zumba” workout video at home. So fun. I just wish I had dressed more for the occasion (my skirt is fun to dance in but a bit dificil in which to workout).

I surf the web for a bit before deciding to head home. I scarf down some food there and do my homework: writing a reflection on the superstitions in CR. It is fun – you learn something new everyday. I talk to my parents for quite a while about the assignment, and at one point my mamá tica looks at my abuela tica and smiles. Then she says: “Didn’t I say? In one week, you’d be speaking much faster.” I blush. She is right; I have gotten much better.

An hour later, I am running down the street to meet the others to go to a bar to hang out. This is a first for me. I have never gone out at home, so I am all eyes and ears. We walk to Mas X Menos and wait for the rest of the gang. Then we head to Arrecifes for drinks. I refuse to get a daiquiri – the mixture of fruit and alcohol is too one-sided for me. So after thinking it over (I still can’t bring myself to order a beer – though they are better here.), I order a whiskey and sprite. And so, such passes:

Doubting Thomas Waiter: “Whiskey?”
Me: “Si, y un Sprite.”
DTW: “Sprite?”
Me: “Si, mezcla (mixed).”
DTW: “Sprite.” *Smiles and walks off*

When he returns, he has a sprite. Only a sprite. So after waiting about ten minutes, I decide to try again. I don’t want to be the only one not drinking (no matter that Hannah only ordered a coke). So I ask for a shot of whiskey. He looks at me in a scoffing manner and says: “Whiskey?” YES! “Si, whiskey.” So he asks me what type. I’m stumped. I have to ask him what type they have. He rattles off some... none of which I recognize. So I just take the one he suggests. It is probably not a great idea, but everyone is laughing (and I am about to), and I am tired of dealing with this.

So he brings me my shot. And as soon as he walks away, I pour it in my Sprite. Finally.

The alcohol is much stronger here, and I decide to stop after one drink – I have no desire to be barracha. I want to go home at ten – I am muy cansada – but no one is headed my direction. So I wait on Jackie and Fumi, and around eleven we leave. And I still end up running my street as there is no one who lives near me. Ick.

And then I sleep. That seems to be all I do now. :

Is that a volcano in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

2007-07-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Weekend 1: Friday, June 29^th – Sunday, July 1^st

Friday
Glorious day – there is a Volcano in my horizon! This morning I get up around my normal time (sixish) and get ready to head out. Despite the fact that I do not need to be ready until 9:15, I am packed and ready to go by 8:30. I am jumpy... and truthfully, I am pretty excited about the Spanish break. The sluggishness in my mind that was imposing my Spanish yesterday has spread into all my thinking processes. I hope the Arenal majesty clears my head.

I overshoot the drop-off at the school by one stop and walk the block back to meet Alicia and Jackie. Jackie says that the cab did not help her last night, driving her around without help until she got out when she saw people she lives near. Now I am even more wary to cab it up – swindlers, the lot of them. Maybe I am projecting, but that is the impression I get.

We are waiting on the rest of the group when a bus pulls up. After a quick explanation from Whitney (“Jackie, get on the bus!”), we are on our way to mid San Jose. A fifteen block hike reveals the shady part of town that houses the bus stop. The bus ride to La Fortuna is long and curvy and sickening. I label pictures until my stomach threatens to rebel and then breathe deeply from the open window to my left. Costa Rica may not have much air conditioning, but they have a great ventilation system. I take some fun pictures on the way up (including a video aptly named: The Cloud) and rejoice in the cooling temperatures... which seem to die off as soon as we arrive in La Fortuna.

We get to La Fortuna in the afternoon and walk to a grocery store (Super Christian Number 2!). We start to pick out breakfast comida, but some of the girls want to check out the ammenities of Gringo Pete’s, our hostel, before we buy food.

So we find our way to Gringo Pete’s – a larger purple tree house style building. It is very neat; Pete welcomes us, and his assistant/manager Marta takes our money. We split into rooms (me with Jackie and Beth) and are given the grand tour. My room and Allison/Britney’s room are up small wooden sets of stairs, while Hannah’s room is on the bottom floor. Pete’s has a kitchen fully supplied and a den. Nice digs.

We want to ask Marta about the Hot Springs/Volcano tour we have found, so we sit in her office and try to decipher two magic eye posters – one of the statue of liberty, another of a whale and a dolphin – while we wait. Hannah is rattling the scenes off, but try as I might, I cannot see anything more than a few shadows. I’ve got no skills.

Finally, we get to talk to Marta and ask her about our tour. She tells us that they offer the same tour for two bucks less than the other. It leaves at 3:15 tomorrow, and I am pretty psyched.

Food is now of primary importance, so after a delicious dinner of chicken nachos and dastardly strong daiquiris, the group checks out the grocery situation. We decide on bread and jelly for the morning and chips for lunch (they do not have peanut butter). Groceries bought, we trek back home and store everything in the lockers in Sara and Hannah’s room.

Then the card games begin. Sara, Alicia, Laura, Beth, Jackie, Hannah, and I play Nertz while Allison and Britney hang out inside. Cool Fact: I learn a new card game every time I leave the country. Europe: Spoons (and some other I cannot remember). Jamaica: Phase 10! Also, some Spades-like game. Here: Nertz.

I never win a game, but I never get in the negatives either, which I hear is good. We are laughing and screaming, deep into Spoons playing (my game), when a young lady smoked us into the house. Pretty soon, we wind down and call it a night. Such plans for the morrow!

Saturday
We have no where to be until 3:15, so the name of the game is sleep in. Or at least until eight. Sara said something about walking around town, so I get up and take a shower in a pleasantly hot and pressurized shower. I towel off with my old clothes (my reward for packing light) and join Sara for toast and coffee (yay!). I grab my journal for some quality time and listen to some of the conversations floating around me.

We have met so many people while traveling, from British to Irish to Australian to French to German to Latin Americans: you name it, we have probably run across it. I love knowing why people are here. It seems for the most part to be a teacher mecca.

We decide around ten (once everyone is up and showered) to walk to “the most photographed house of worship” as claims Sara’s guide book. Once there, we are not sure – is this award for all of Costa Rica or just La Fortuna (it is the only church)? We figure the only reason the rather plain white washed building gets any major attention is due to the grand volcano standing at its back.

We snap some obligatory photos (who are we to diss its reputation?), but quickly cross the street to a small park. Here I am amazed at the plethora of beautiful flowers and their abundance. I aim my pictures at floras and their dazzling petals and wander happily.

After a bit, we head to another grocery store (Super Christian Number 1!), passing a tourist shop Hannah and I promise to return to en la mañana. We do not find peanut butter at this mercado either, but we do get a reason: salmonella contamination in the US. So we come up with a solution and buy packages of peanuts.

Back at Pete’s, we make our dinners (peanut and jelly sandwiches, chips, cookies, and una manzana) and chill until 3:15. Then we meet our guide. Marco is young, excited, and determined for us to have a good time. He tells us he is going to speak to us solamente en Español, a fact that excites me and makes some of the group blanch. Unfortunately, the rest of the people we pick up make it imperative for him to speak in English, which for a while is harder to understand than his English.

We bus to the base of the third most active volcano in the world, only about fifteen minutes away, where the hike begins. Marco está muy emocionado as he takes us up the vertically inclined steps leading deep into the rainforest. At times he just stops – “listen.” You can hear the volcano; you can hear the animals. ¡Que bueno!

My favorite things to see: 2 two-toed sloths, one of which I get an awesome picture; rubber from a rubber tree; an insect that looks like a leaf; 2 toucans; and some of the most awesome views I can imagine.

After the extremely strenuous hike (and I have read that it is nothing compared to some), we see our goal: Arenal... shrouded by clouds. I knew this might happen, but as it gets dark, the clouds are supposed to clear. We are shuttled around to the other side of the Volcano, where lava has recently shifted flow. As we stand on the side of the road, we can see a few glowing rocks jumpily begin their rolling descent. Unfortunately, the real show begins just as we leave.

Marco gives us some great Arenal history as we bus to the hot springs; I am impressed with his passion. In my book the Baldi Springs are some of most expensive and the most touristy of the springs. I am torn between thinking we got a great deal and being a bit upset at the crowd. It takes us so long to get a locker and change (though we do enjoy the dinner we have packed), that we have one hour to enjoy the springs before we have to get ready to meet Marco.

But one step in the hot, hot water, and I am won over. Hannah, Beth, and I sink into the largest pool and segregate ourselves form the world. It is heaven – the hot bath I have not yet had. We soak and laugh and relax for quite a bit before deciding to check out the other pools. We flit from pool to pool, never staying long, enjoying the heat and company. Hannah and I decide to track down the Mayan Pyramid I read about. After hiking up to the top of the springs, we see it: a “rio verde” of grass and a huge Mayan replica with two ginormous water slides... in production. This is what I get for having an up to date guide – incomplete slides.

We spend our last few minutes in the large pool, jumping back and forth from the heat to the small cold pool in the center and ignoring the negative comments coming from some of the girls when it sprinkles a bit. Then we gather our stuff, completely refreshed, and meet Marco for the trip back.

I am no longer tired, so once back at Pete’s, Hannah and I drag Beth back out in search of ice cream. We do not find it, but we do get Tres Leches (which Hannah calls soggy bread), coke, and good company. I am content.

We make it back, trade Hannah for Jackie, and bed down. It has been a long and glorious day.

Sunday
Bus. That pretty much sums up today. I get up around seven and take a shower. After I shake my bag from the spiders that infested it last night (it seems that itty bitty spiders rule CR!) and spray us both with a healthy dose of insecticide, Hannah and I gather our stuff and head out to try and find a tourist shop. I steal her idea to collect magnets from places she has been, and we both pick up a fun one of the volcano. I also get a cheap postcard that I am going to send to Matthew’s parents. I need to buy the rest of my postcards tomorrow so I can send them Tuesday.

Souvenirs in hand, we traipse down the street and meet the other girls to load onto the bus. And so it begins – the three and a half hour grueling ride to San Ramon, including an hour long stop to wait for another bus to come and pick up half our passengers when we got overcrowded. I familiarize myself with my guide book during this time and plan out a bit more our time here. Sara, Alicia, and Jackie want to do Monteverde with us, so we are going to work around their Torteguero trip. The last weekend we are going to do Manuel Antonio and then say our goodbyes to the group and head to Panama on Sunday. ¡Que emocionante!

I am seated next to a girl who does not seem keen to talk, so there is little else to do but sit and enjoy the scenery.

Finally, we reach San Ramon, and after a quick ticket and bathroom break we are ready to board the bus to San Jose. Well, except for me. Due to being the last in the bathroom, I am one of the last in line for the bus. Just as I am about to board, the driver stops me. He tells me to wait – he needs to check the number of seats left. Entonces, when he returns, he lets on three guys that had been traveling with us earlier. I want to tell him that all my friends are already on the bus, but he won’t stop long enough to listen to me. I am pretty sure that I going to be left behind, which isn’t too bad, but I wonder if anyone notices. I do not want them to freak out later. De repente, the doors open again. “Una amiga?” I hear. Alicia’s head pops out the door – “Sarah, get on.” I jump up, hand the guy my ticket, and claim the only seat open: in the handicapped spot. I turn around and mouth gracias to Alicia. She just nods. That was close. Alicia later tells me that she tried to get off the bus before he let me on, but he kept telling her to sit down. But it all worked out, gracias por Dios.

On the bus, I sit next to a Californian named Charlie, and we share a very pleasant two hour trip, discussing all manner of fun things: surfing, teaching, music... mostly stuff about him. I throw in some stuff about me, y’know, so he knows I have some vanity. ;) The ride is nice (wonderful after the first), and soon we are back home in San Jose. It is a seventeen block trek back to a bus stop, so we stop and get ice cream on the way... or maybe we just like ice cream. :)

Alicia, Jackie, and I make it to our stop, and the rest of the trip passes without pause. I arrive back home while my mamá tica is taking un siesta, so I follow suit. After a quick cold shower, I sleep for three hours. When I wake up, I am afraid that I have missed dinner, even though it is only six. Although at home that would mean no dinner, here we do not eat until seven or eight. So, I wait. But, by seven I am very hungry. Just as I am about to break down and ask for food, I smell it cooking. So I wait, salivating at the thought of dinner. Finally, they call me.

I talk with my mamá and abuela tica about my trip and greedily devour my pasta, delicately picking at my papaya (no me gusta). My mamá tica looks at my abuela tica and says: she only had a sandwich earlier, so she has to be hungry. I am not sure why I feel the need to correct her; it really isn’t important. But I did: I tell her that I actually only had two pieces of toast at eight and haven’t eaten anything since then due to the bus ride. She is horrified. They get mad at me (not really) and tell me that if I am hungry, I should ask – I can have a snack! I don’t know what to say. I tell her that I was tired so I didn’t think about food when I got home, but in the future I will ask. It is un poco comico.

I have no homework, so after dinner I go to my room and type up a journal entry. I can hear multiple Shania Twain songs coming from my parents’ room. I want to go join them and enjoy music I know, but I think that it might be a little strange if I go and jump on their bed – the only TV is in their room. Ah well. I finish up my journaling and throw myself into bed. It has been a long, but great weekend.

You mine for gold where?

2007-07-03T14:59:00.000-07:00

Day 4, Thursday, June 28^th

Today is not a Spanish day. This fact does not occur to me as I wake up, take a shower, or get ready. Yet as sit eating with my abuela tica, I realize: I am not picking up on what she is saying. I mean, I know the words, but I swear, they don’t make sense. She says something about a letter, and I just stare at her, willing the words to form into coherent sentences in my head. They don’t. She calls my mamá tica in, thinking maybe I have just missed something. But I don’t get her either. “Recepcionista... derecha.” That is about all I pick up. Finally she blurts “The receptionist at school; she is expecting this.” I am a bit humiliated. It is the first time she has to talk to me in English. I apologize and stuff the envelope in my bag.

I chalk it up to an off day. I ate very little of my breakfast, even though it was piña (pineapple)! Usually I eat everything. I was so sure I would lose weight because my stomach can’t handle a lot of beans and rice... but that is not going to happen. Despite the great deal of walking, I can’t imagine I am really burning any calories. Maybe next week when I start dance class... but maybe not. The food here is pretty good. Shucks.

I leave a bit later today and meet Alicia at the bus stop. We take the bus with Brooke and Bethany (who get on at the previous stop), and make it to school with mucho tiempo to spare. I pull out my computer and try to finish up some journaling before class. I get some done, but not much. Yet as the bell rings, I don’t care; we are going to the museum hoy!

We meet in the classroom and make our way the mile and a half to mid San Jose where the museum is. It is a cool old castle turned into an exposición. We have to pay to get in (bummer – come on Roni, help a girl out), but from there it is all way cool. The first room we walk into is a history of las indigenas. There are artifacts, ceramics, and many very cool stories Roni regales us with. I see a statue I think Jeremy would appreciate (Jeremy, don’t get a big head thinking I think about you a lot; it is only when something sexual comes up! Hah! Not really Bren...), and snap lots of pictures. Maybe I can put them up on Facebook next week. The next room is a mini shrine to the discovery of gold. I read a really cool story about the devil and how las indigenas believe gold originated: There was once a revolutionary (I forget his name). The devil told his family that he was going to kill the revolutionary and would need their help to bury the body. However, the revolutionary found out about the devil’s plan and killed him instead. He then gave his appearance to the devil and called the devil’s family. He told the family to tear the body apart in order to bury it. Only when they were destroying el cuerpo did they realize that it was their family member. They buried his body throughout Latin America, and where he is buried, you can mine for gold. How cool!... and un poco disturbing.

We visit another little exhibit about the war of las indigenas and las colonias before making our way out onto a balcony. As we are standing out there taking pictures of the scenery, I see a sign for a secret garden. Roni leads the party as we go to investigate.

You know how little things can just trigger a flood of memories? For example, my familia tica has a puppy named Garu, and he makes me miss my family. Además, the all girls school we saw in the plaza yesterday had me missing Whitney. And anything profoundly historical makes me think of Whit. So when I finally stumble into el jardín secreto, I am overwhelmed... by excitation and a sudden intense rush of sadness.

There are mariposas everywhere. Flitting and flying and hardly resting, the Lepidoptera had me holding my breath. My camera flies out as if it has wings of its own, and I am snapping pictures as fast as possible. After a while though, I realize that I am not capturing the full potential. Therefore, I now have a five minute video of the flutterby garden.

I cannot get enough, but eventually, we have to move on. I take a final look around and the grief sneaks back in. Stupid Lepidoptera and their memories.

Roni scoots us along, denying our requests to treat us to lunch. But he does let us wander through the open market for a few minutes. Beth and Hannah and I have decided to return here next weekend after rafting. They have tons of fun stuff, and I think I will knock out my souvenir shopping for the most part.

The walk back to school is long and seemingly completamente uphill. We reach school right before lunch, so I settle down to partake of my feast: tuna from home (thanks Bren for your foresight!) and a bag of cookies. I am excited for familiar food. Heather, Brittany, and Rachel are graduating during lunch, so after the ceremony I say my goodbyes to the girls. They are going to Honduras tomorrow.

After lunch Roni has us write an essay about the museum, a task I attack with relish. After class I finally set up my blog (which you are reading – yay!) and play on the internet, something I have surprisingly missed. They kick us our at five thirty, so Hannah and Beth and I walk to the mall to hang out, but when we get there we are starving (not literally – sorry to all those people who really are starving), so we break down and buy pizza. I am really living up this thing, huh? I mean, I don’t even eat pizza at home!

We sit around for a few hours until we realize we are much too tired to go out with everyone tonight. I would love to go sit in a bar and drink with Beth and Hannah, but we have no clue where any are. So Hannah and I get some ice cream and the three of us scidattle. Yet as we are leaving, we see a small bar! Talk about nothing for nothing – if we had just walked around a bit, we would have seen it. Ah well!

I take the bus back home (alone! I am growing up!). Back home, I type up some more journals, even though I can’t post until next week. We are meeting at 9:45 in the morning to board the bus to Arenal, and I am muy tired. So only one more thing, and then bed!

I am absolutely having a wonderful time here – we laugh so much; we are silly and free and glorious, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you guys. Today was the first time it really hit me... around the time the Lepidopteras made their appearance. But I do. So know that I love you all, and have a great night!

Planear y hacer

2007-07-02T15:48:00.000-07:00

Day 3, Wednesday, June 27^th

I have a bus partner! After yesterday, that excites me quite a bit. Alicia meets me at la parada and we take the bus together. I am already more comfortable with the system (who wouldn’t be after getting so lost?), but I still like us being together. At school, I finish writing my telenovela and chat with Hannah and Beth. Morning classes are fine, and soon we break for lunch.

I get a cheese burrito (which is possibly the grossest thing I’ve had here) and discuss with the group our weekend plans. Sara has fulfilled her roll as leader and already talked to the lady here who booked our hotel and told us where to go to get bus tickets. Go Sara! This gets Beth and I to thinking about our weekends. With Hannah, we lay out the following plan:

1. Weekend uno: Arenal Volcano and Hot Springs with the group.
2. Weekend dos: We get one free trip through the school, so we chose White Water Rafting, as it is too expensive to do on our own. We are rafting the Pacuare, a class III/IV river. Alli would be proud. Or she might think us stupid... none of us have ever rafted before. Anyways, it is only a one day trip, so we also plan to visit el Mercado Artesiana en San Jose that weekend and... well, the other is a sorpresa! I’m more than a little excited. The surprise trip is overcoming a great fear of mine... more details when it is accomplished!
3. I am greatly looking forward to this weekend. We are going to stay in a cheap cabin deep in the Cloud Forest of Monteverde. The next day we’ll do a tour through the rainforest and do the across forest Zip Line. Zooming platform to platform, we’ll see the trees at top speed. I’m thrilled.
4. A few people let us know that they’d like to be in on the Panama trip, so we may go ahead and do it this weekend. Paradise. This is the weekend everyone heads home though, so we’ll see if it works out.
5. Beth and I don’t have the last week planned, but it will include at least one trip to the beach and probably Torteguero to see turtles hatch. Who knows what else?

Back in class after lunch, we start a listening exercise, only to have a sudden rainstorm destroy our ability to hear. But Roni has a backup. We play a board game for two hours where we roll dice and land on categories like: songs, rhymes, tounge twisters, grammar, riddles, and sorpresas! Sorpresas is now the word of the week... con fracasito! We’re crazy. The game is super fun, and I get way into it (can you imagine?). I am really good at playing games... I win this one too. :) Before class is over, Roni asks if we have been to the National Museum of History yet. We answer in the negative. He looks at us and then announces we will go tomorrow. But he said it so quietly and without pause that we didn’t believe him. But it is true – we are taking a field trip! Yay!
We’re going on a field trip tomorrow!

Once class is over, we assemble to head to San Jose with Dr. Zambrano... again. We walk around in town, snapping pictures left and right of fountains, lush greenery, and statures that hardly seem in place in the center of this bustling city. The lot of us need money for the weekend, so after some intense sight seeing and picture capturing, we walk toward the ATM we found Monday. We pass by the tourist shop where I want to return on my day in San Jose – a postcard screamed Jeremy to me. ;)

Money handled, Dr. Zambrano herds us to an outside hotel cafe and orders plates of fries, which he swears are the best he has ever had. With evidence in my hands, I have to admit, they are wonderful. But maybe that is because I am not a fry eater. We practice our Spanish (which I am getting more comfortable with everyday!), laugh and act crazy, and Bethany chats up our waiter, who is suddenly anxious to practice his English. He is nice and tells us all about his job and why he loves it.

The people here are so generally nice. Perhaps it is for that reason that I feel so free here. Perhaps it is the traveling. I noticed in Jamaica a difference that I was quick to lose upon return. I am not afraid of being overly friendly or silly or aggressive in my manner; perhaps because I have no thought to see these people again. Whereas at home, I have to deal with the consequences of my actions everyday. It just seems easier to chat up a stranger away from home.

Another factor may be our awesome group, none of which seem truly rude or self-motivated. It is quite amazing feeling so comfortable with people I hardly know. I have Beth and Hannah, but everyone is nice. However, a week is the true test of time; we’ll see how many are still wonderful then...

After our snack of fries and ice cream shakes, the group separates to their buses. Jackie joins Alicia and me on our bus home and misses her stop. We hail her a cab at our stop, but I’m nervous to let her go. Tell him “ponga la maria!” we yell. Once we are comfortable that Jackie will get home, we go our separate ways as well.

The walk home in my neighborhood is not scary, even at night, but I am glad to be home when I get there. I eat the dinner they give me, despite my lack of hunger, do my homework, and make my list of words I have learned: self-teaching. And yada yada until sleep.

Getting the hang of things

2007-07-02T15:35:00.000-07:00

Day 2, Tuesday, June 26^th

I got lost today.

That does not bother me so much, after all, it is the only way I can learn my way around a place. It gives me a sense of confidence to have found my way out of such a situation. I recently visited a friend in St. Louis and trusted that, as a student there, she would know the city. It did not take long to realize that that was not the case. At least now, I have no fear to traverse the St. Louis freeway. So I am not afraid to get lost; it is all part of the experience. I just wish it hadn’t been this morning.

My plan was to get to school at eight so I could do some internet stuff (talk to my parents) before class. But it was my first time on the bus alone, and I knew there would be problems. I thought I needed to be looking for the stop past the mall and the Suzuki car dealership. That was the way I had come the morning before. So when I saw the dealership, I decided to wait until I saw the mall and get out. But there are two ways to get to the stop at the Suzuki store, and one does not pass the mall. Unfortunately, I did not discover this until about five stops later, deep into San Jose. It was the train tracks that tipped me off.

I pulled out my map and realized my big mistake. I jumped out at the next stop and considered my next step. I was afraid to grab another bus as I had no clue where they were going. So I started walking in a direction I thought was back, but there were no street signs. By the time I made it to a street with a sign, I had walked another half mile away from the school. And I had forty minutes until school started. Oh boy. I started walking back, for real this time, thinking that if I could get to Avenida 2, I could find a bus that had to be going in my direction. I found many buses but could not decide which was correct. I walked for about fifteen minutes before I realized that the bus pulling up beside me was the bus I was on earlier. So I paid again to get on the same bus and headed back out of town. By the time I made it off at the right stop, I had only fifteen minutes until I had to be in class. I hustled down the street and into the building. I grabbed a glass of water just as the bell rang. Making my way through the throng of people, I made it up to my room and plopped into my seat. Hannah looked at my haggard appearance. “Did you just make it?” I just looked at her.

-switch to present tense-

The rest of the morning until break is a blur. I am shaking and tired. At break, Hannah and I find Beth and I regale her with my lost story. She just laughs at me. Dr. Zambrano comes up, and we fill him in. He looks at me astonished. Then he smiles. “At least you won’t get lost in San Jose again!” ¡Es la verdad!

After break, during which I fill my growing coffee addiction, Roni tells us to turn to a page with nouns. We have to change them into their adjectives and verbs. The whole process is more than fun than serious. If we are wrong, Roni writes them on the board. The thing is, no one will guess, so I just say whatever I think it might be. Needless to say, by the end, I have nine wrong words where everyone else has four or five. I am the queen of wrong guesses. But at least I participate! Perhaps the most fun part is that we make up some great words (fracasito = little failure). I am loving class.

At lunch (tengo un burrito de pollo), everyone is talking about their weekend plans. This has been the hardest thing this week: trying to figure out our weekends. The consensus for most people is to go to Torteguero this weekend to see turtles hatch, but Hannah and Beth and I aren’t so into that. So where then?

After lunch, we talk for awhile about telenovelas, una parte muy importante de la vida de latinoamericanas. It is fun, but we struggle a bit when we have to listen to one and answer questions. Roni’s solution for this: create our own. Yeah.

Assignments handed out, Roni decides to break out the games. Thus proceeds an hour and a half long game of Spanish Boggle. ¡Es muy divertido! Finding Spanish words is hard, but we get the hang of it. But I have a problem. A couple of girls in our little group of six (work Hannah, who was sick yesterday, and new Rachel join us today) feel the need to talk in English the whole time, and it is really annoying me. They paid good money to be here. I paid good money to be here, and I am trying to learn Español. And really, it is a bit rude. Roni seems to be fine, but by the end of the game, I’m a little frustrated. I am too exhausted to try and keep up conversations in Spanish with my friends after class, so I depend on class time to learn. I hope they shape up.

I head to the computer lab (aka, down the stairs) después de la clase and finally get to e-mail my parents. I feel bad; I told them I’d call them Sunday. But I never had the chance. I hope they haven’t been too worried!

One thing I have noticed is how much my Spanish has improved in two days. I know I said that yesterday, but today it is pronounced. And the difference is confidence. I like Spanish, and here, nobody says I am not good enough or not trying hard enough. Everyone wants us to learn, and it is glorious. I have already learned so much, from vocab to grammar to pronunciation, and Roni is very supportive. He makes fun of us sometimes, but it is good natured... I hope. But there I sit, typing a response to Casey’s facebook message, and I realize: this is so much easier now! Being surrounded by it is the primary factor.

It can be overwhelming, Spanish all the time, and sometimes I crave my English friends, or more often, silence. I appreciate my evenings alone after eight, when my family goes to bed. They are peaceful. But here is something funny: learning Spanish is both good and bad for your English. You learn great grammar techniques, but I find myself speaking half in English and half in Spanish muchas veces. And even better, I think like that. It is pretty crazy. Sometimes my English sentences come out phrased rather oddly, but it would be fine if in Spanish. I am loving it.

At five, the group convenes outside of CRLA and Dr. Zambrano’s private bus friend picks us up. I’m getting the handle of city buses, but I’ll admit I like the privacy. It’s nice. We head to a restaurant in the city... of which I cannot remember the name. But it is pretty fancy, or at least looks it. I then proceed to have one the best nights of my life. We talk, we laugh – a lot, and we order great food. I have sea bass (me gustaría el sea bass), and it is delish. We are allowed one drink gratis, so I order a strawberry daiquiri. Now work Hannah, who also orders a daiquiri, and I have decided that they simply take strawberry ice and place it in alcohol, because those things are strong! Yet after I mix it up, all is good.

Heather comes over and starts talking to me about places to go and things to do. They have been here for three weeks already and are heading to Honduras on Thursday. So I am listening intently when she tells me about Paradise. A six hour trip will take us to Panama, where we can take a boat ride with dolphins and hang out on private islands. I think it will be a great thing for Beth and I to do our last week. Paradise and the beach! And... whatever else. We also finalize plans for the weekend and elect Sara as the leader for this week. We are going to the Arenal Volcano and hot springs. We’re staying at a hostel called Gringo Peats and going to the locals side of the hot springs ($30 less), and the whole weekend should run us about $50. We are astonished and very excited. I think there are about ten of us going. The rest are going to the beach (boring!).

After dinner, some people decide to stay around and drink and party. I’m pooped, and I still have homework, so home it is. The private bus takes us home, and Alicia and I start talking about our stops – we are both far away from the rest of the houses. After talking for a bit, we realize that we have the same stop, only we have been boarding the bus at different times! So we make plans to meet the next day, and I get dropped off. I talk to my padres ticos, as Heather calls them, for awhile about my day and then head to my room to attack my homework.

My homework is to write a telenovela. I have to outline the characters, give a plot description, tell where it is located, and discuss the ending. I lay in bed for awhile thinking, when it comes to me: I’ve already written this telenovela! I quickly jot down a brief description of a musical I wrote in High School called Beth. Though the story is not about Beth’s life, she is the main character. Satisfied, I push everything off my bed and quickly fall into a deep sleep.

Vuelen mis amigos!

2007-06-28T14:50:00.000-07:00

Costa Rican Travel Blog

¡Hola amigos!

It is day three here (fourth if you count the day we arrived. I don’t, because I hardly remember it!). No, you did not miss days one and two. I did. It has been crazy busy, and I have not been able to start this as soon as I had hoped. However, here I am, Wednesday night, typing away, desperate to fill you in on my lovely experience. Here’s what I can pull together of the last three days:

Day 1, Monday, June 25th:

I did not sleep a bit Saturday night. Now this is entirely my fault, and I have no problem claiming this (who can pack when you’ve got a wedding to attend?), but there it is. Therefore, estoy cansada. I feel like yesterday was all one long day. I was nervous, of course, and I was super glad to have Beth with me. I mean, I’ve traveled before, but stay with a family? What was I thinking? I must like being humiliated. At least, that was how I felt Sunday when we landed.

And then I met them. A private bus (never take those for granted!) took us to our respective houses. I was so nervous! I thought I would be the last one to be dropped off, but three stops down, they say my name. Already?! But then I saw them. My “mother” cannot be more than twenty eight, if that. I think she is younger. My “father” is probably her age if a bit older. The only one I know for sure is my “grandmother.” She is in her sixties. They are all very nice! They fed me as soon as I got there and showed me my room, a sunken in tile floored room to the side. Their house is nice, and I have a twin bed, two pillows, a desk, an armoire, and a clothing hamper. I am living the good life. That night I just unpacked and read. Do you want to hear the craziest part (yes Sarah, please!)? I already know my Spanish will improve. They talked to me at dinner, but I was stumbling all over myself and very nervous. But that would change. Night came, and I finally slept.

Monday morning I got up at 6:15. Yay for school schedules! I had to be at the school at 8:00 for orientation and placement, and I had never been there before. So I decided to take a quick shower and get dressed. But the water would not get warm. I let it run for a bit and thought that maybe it would warm up. But after fifteen minutes, I had to forfeit the shower or just jump in. So I decided to just wash my hair. I turn the stream down to just above a trickle and jump in. And then... it gets warm. I’m flabbergasted, but quickly bathe and jump out. I later learn that showers are electric. You have to let the small stream heat up first and then allow more pressure. Right.

My “grandmother” took me to school, which was very nice, and the rest of my family wished me a good day. At school, I met up with everyone, and we discussed families. It seems that everyone got great familias, which is muy bueno. So, here is where it gets interesting. I take the oral placement test, and I know I do poorly. I can answer all her questions, but she is distant and uninterested, asking me a question and then looking at people around us. I can’t concentrate on the question and end up stumbling my way through a few stories and descriptions. At the end she tells me that I need to work on my preterit, compound tenses, and my subjunctive. I’m thinking, oh, is that all? But I know she’s probably right. She tells me my class will be difficult, but does not give me anymore information. So I wander back to the waiting room and discuss the test with the other kids. We’re all a bit confused as to what is going on, but that is to be expected.

A few minutes until 9:00, the director of CRLA, Laura, sends us to our respective classes. I follow Bethany, Allison and Alicia, girls I do not know (Alicia and Allison are from UCA, and although Bethany is with us, she goes to Henderson), around to a small room in the back of the building. I can’t quite catch our teacher’s name, but soon she is chatting away with all of us en Español. I like her bubbly spirit and persona, and soon I’m extremely comfortable, waiting on her to ask me my life story. She keeps saying, “I’m not Roni; I’m not boring, and I don’t like tons of homework. And I don’t like tests.” She seems really cool. I’ve been in class for about ten minutes when Laura sticks her head in the door. “Allison and Sarah? Come with me. You’re going to a lower class.” She looks away sheepishly. At least, I hope it was sheepishly. Talk about a blow to the ego! Allison and I just look at each other. But what choice do we have? So we follow.

She takes us through the courtyard and computer lab and up a staircase to a small room. There I see Marisa and Hannah. So, I would have been perfectly fine with this move, if not for the small voice in the back of my head saying “why were you not good enough for the higher level?” My new teacher is a man, young and decent looking. Those are about the only observations I can make, for, except for asking our names, he does not talk to us for quite a few minutes. But he does introduce himself. Roni. Ah. Now I understand.

It takes a while to get used to Roni, and the first day is a bit awkward. We have an hour and a half of class, a fifteen minute break, an hour and fifteen minutes of class, an hour for lunch, and then two last hours of class. So really, we’re only in class for a total of four hours and forty-five minutes, but if feels much longer. I am exhausted by the end.

After class, Dr. Zambrano takes us all to San Jose to change money. It was a fun experience (Costa Rican ATMs are interesting...), but I don’t remember too much. Back home, my family had made me dinner. It was wonderful: enchiladas de queso. But I’ve never had this cheese – it is firm and white and has the texture of a cooked egg. Es extraño. My family commented that my Spanish is much better today, and they’re right. I tell them I’m not as nervous. They tell me about the two other girls that they have had stay with them. The first knew little Spanish when she started, and by the end of four weeks was speaking much better (in complete sentences?). The other learned nothing. But that may have had something to do with the fact that she partied all night and slept in class... and never did any homework. What a waste of money! They’re convinced that in a week I’ll be speaking as fast as them, and in four weeks I’ll be much more fluid. ¡Ojala!

That night I had a bit of homework, and then, exhausted, I fell into bed. A bit of light reading and sleep at last!

If you read this far, thank you! I’m going to end with day one start a new post for yesterday. Things are easier to read in chunks! ¡Hasta Luego!