I am going to be honest with you. These days have been so congested with events I am uncertain that my memory could segregate them all into the right days. So I will just make a goolosh of encounters and memories.
I believe Tuesday the 23 I woke up to a fit of sniffing from behind my door. I sleepily made my way to my bedroom door to find on the other side a pathetic excuse for a poodle. In addition to all the adorable things my mama-tica does, apparently adopting stray animals is now added to the list. Let me confirm what I think is adorable too. Mama-tica adopting animals, adorable. Poodle that mama-tica adopted, not. Olga fed, watered, and clothed the animal. But, it gets better. The dog wouldn't leave so I chased it out of the house with an umbrella. Umbrellas must be this poodles love language because this poodle (which we later named both el perro grosso and Carlos Sanchez) followed me all the way to my class. I had to draw the line and lock this mutt out of my classroom.
My day ended well. I was escorted to a beautiful new home where my Latin American Cuisine class was held, in the garage. Si, I said garage. There was a sink, oven, stove, all of it. We made empanadas that imploded with all the goodies we couldn't fit. We made dozens more than we needed, so I brought them to Natalie for lunch. My mama-tica adopts poodles, I adopted Natalie. Natalie is one of my class mates whose mama-tica feeds only cheese and crackers for every meal. Her mama-tica mooches off Natalie's rent money for an income, therefore, could not afford to feed her a balanced, nor enjoyable cuisine.
That night also involved futbol with all the neighborhood homies. Richard, Kenny, Rolando, Molly, and myself played futbol for three hours in our community courtyard. Some of our neighborhood homies joined in on our game, the others were an odd style of cheerleaders. Our cheerleaders tag teamed with the other team. When one needed a break they would tag each other in for a marijuana break. Don't ask me how they could play that well high as a kite, but they surprisingly could. I was able to score three goals and had one assist. Molly round house kicked a kid in the shin instead of the futbol. The game climaxed when three policemen drove through our game on Vespas, to strip our cheerleaders of their paraphernalia. That night I learned that the police don't bother the futbol players. They only have a prejudiced for our cheerleaders. Knowing this, all our homie cheerleaders increased our game by ten instantly following the appearance of the flashing police lights.
Agosto 24 brought sore bodies and energetic spirits. Once again Carlos Sanchez (or el perro grosso) joined me for breakfast. Once in class our teacher earned our love. She must have made over ten Lady Gaga references. But this is not what bought our love. Our love for our teacher was won when one of the students asked her what "maybe" was in Espanol. Her response: "Quisas". If you don't speak Spanish, "Quisas" sounded our sounds identical to "kiss - @ss". Needless to say, our entire class lost it. Tears were flowing down my cheeks. Stomachs were sore from laughter. Chaos was ceaseless.
Carlitos, our program coordinator for USAC, rented out an indoor futbol field for our classmates and him. We brought our tico-brothers for some fun. Why not, we played so well together last night! Well, unfortunately our skills against sober players does not exceed our expectations of the former evening. We lost, again and again.
The boys told us we would go to a movie after the game, but spirits were too low. Instead, we stayed up far too late exchanging stories and Latino slang.
Agosto 25 brought more sore bodies and Carlos to breakfast. I don't recall much else exciting until our dance class. I am taking Latin American Dance with twenty other students. Learning the "cha-cha" and "marague"dance was difficult and entertaining. I am uncertain if I was terrible at the dancing or if my professor enjoyed pushing me around the room in corrections. Either way, it was annoying, but still entertaining.
Agosto 26: The boys told us that they would take us to the movies. After poking and prodding Kenny through the house to get ready at a moderate speed, we were successful in picking out a flick. We went to "Cowboys and Aliens" dubbed in Spanish subtitles. The boys enjoyed ripping my hands from my face in attempts at making me witness the disgusting scenes of terror. Also, note to myself and everyone else. The Ticos have it figured out! Their popcorn is half salty traditional and half caramel. Whichever brilliant inventor of half sweet and salty popcorn thought of this conscept, I would like to thank them personally.
After the movies, we indulged in some good old american Taco Bell. Surprising enough, it was unsatisfying compared to the real Latin food we have been consuming. Following our Crunch Wrap Supremes, we went to a restaurant called "Mas Tequilla" for 80's night Latin American Dancing! We successfully snucked our under-aged Kenney in so he could help us bust a move. We danced the night away with all the fellow 80's fans.
Agosto 27th we went to Cafe Britt and Poas Volcano. Cafe Britt is a guided tour though a small coffee plantation. I learned some interesting facts about coffee. My favorite fact involved their solution for pesticides. Their pesticide involves hanging plastic cups and bowls to trees. But there is more to these vessels then meet the eye. In the cup that hangs above the bowl, there is rum. In the bowl, below the cup, there is a lake awaiting the drunken bugs for their drunken plunge.
Forget wine tasting, we need more coffee tastings. On the tour I was able to taste a irresponsible amount of coffee. I consumed over twelve chocolate covered coffee beans, two cups of coffee, and a vanilla cappuccino. I am sure you can only imagine how the rest of my went. I have enough caffeine in my system to fail a sobriety test due to the extreme amount of jitters.
Thank goodness for the energy because we hiked up trails to the top of a volcano crater! I decided that volcano should never be a "scentsy" smell. I might have caught the black lung without a single cigarette due to the sulfur surrounding our adventurous community. There was flocks of hummingbirds serenading our experience through the rainforest. And at any time the rain decided to plunge to the earth, we would be well shaded by the umbrella sized plants along the way.
Energy levels began to skydive (without a parachute I felt) on the way home on the bus. Molly said we took a Disco Nap. I am uncertain why it is called this. My imagination tells me it is because our heads uncontrollably bob around as we drift from consciousness to dreaming. Similarly to how I imagine my parents boogying to some sweet seventies music.
Barva (which is North of Heredia) held a festival with fireworks, lashing cow bladders, masks, and music. When we arrived, once again late because of Kenny's slow speed for getting ready, there was not much of anything. We saw the last of the music, some artists, food, and foozball. However, we found other ways of fun in an unknown land. My favorite moment of the evening was the bus ride home which included Kenny's friend, Kenneth, pulling a move on me. As he had one arm around my back, the other pointed out the window at a building. With all foolish confidence, Kenneth said, "this is my high school." High school! Boy you best be getting your hands off me for more than one reason! Teenage boys and their rambuntious hormones. (roll of the eyes).
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Agosto 21-22
After a night of real Costa Rican Night Life that involved Pirates, dancing, and getting lost on our taxi ride home, the morning came rather soon. No sluggish morning was going to ruin my first adventure. I arrived at the meeting place and made my way to the man standing by a bus. Let me say: assumption is the mother of all screw-ups. I assumed this man was my bus driver. I assumed he understood my ridiculous spanglish. I assumed that was our bus. Let me also just say that I was wrong in all three of my assumptions.
After mothering all my screw-ups, an entire bus full of my new friends wayfared our way up and down the tropic mountains to a beautiful destination, Jaco. Before the destination, was a bit of an adventure in itself. Our bus driver stopped us at a bridge. He convinced us all to get out in the tropical thunderstorm, walk across, and look down. Don't ask me why we trusted him to do this, but I am sure glad we did.Looking down from the bridge was a huge herd, colony, flock of crocodiles. Not just any crocodiles, twin-bed-width sized crocodiles. They were just chilling in the mud over 15 feel long.
Jaco beach was beautiful and very busy with sunblock busseling gringos. It had minimal tide pools to poke and prod at, but glorious waves to frolic within. I am certain that our entire group returned to our adolescent years as we jumped, leaped, and sloshed in the ocean for hours. We chased crabs, squished anemones (or an.en.o.ma says Kenny), and drank our weight in smoothies. The taco bar we visited for breakfast had swings in substitute for bar stools. Needless to say, my day was made my a multitude of reasons, this being one of the most influential.
Sunburnt and happy, we made our way home. Our long way home. Traffic took us down a highway of dark fate. Our trip home was more like a Michelin Tire commercial. We dodged cars, trees, mudslides, dogs, and Ticos in the rain and lightning. All that was missing was the evolving snow and volcano!
August 22. First day of Class
Today was not very eventful. Good, but nothing compared to the previous day. Classes began early, paid much to much for my books that I cannot even read, went shopping for a plant pot, got mediocre ice cream at McDonald's, dehydration, oh and got lost for over 2 hours.
Good news was I had a splendid nap and amazing food. I love my mama-tica's cooking. She is adorable. She has food for me every time I return to the house. It's like she is hunger psychic. She also wears high heals and dress up clothes around the house as she cooks and cleans. She is the source of all my male-folk "women jokes".
After mothering all my screw-ups, an entire bus full of my new friends wayfared our way up and down the tropic mountains to a beautiful destination, Jaco. Before the destination, was a bit of an adventure in itself. Our bus driver stopped us at a bridge. He convinced us all to get out in the tropical thunderstorm, walk across, and look down. Don't ask me why we trusted him to do this, but I am sure glad we did.Looking down from the bridge was a huge herd, colony, flock of crocodiles. Not just any crocodiles, twin-bed-width sized crocodiles. They were just chilling in the mud over 15 feel long.
Jaco beach was beautiful and very busy with sunblock busseling gringos. It had minimal tide pools to poke and prod at, but glorious waves to frolic within. I am certain that our entire group returned to our adolescent years as we jumped, leaped, and sloshed in the ocean for hours. We chased crabs, squished anemones (or an.en.o.ma says Kenny), and drank our weight in smoothies. The taco bar we visited for breakfast had swings in substitute for bar stools. Needless to say, my day was made my a multitude of reasons, this being one of the most influential.
Sunburnt and happy, we made our way home. Our long way home. Traffic took us down a highway of dark fate. Our trip home was more like a Michelin Tire commercial. We dodged cars, trees, mudslides, dogs, and Ticos in the rain and lightning. All that was missing was the evolving snow and volcano!
August 22. First day of Class
Today was not very eventful. Good, but nothing compared to the previous day. Classes began early, paid much to much for my books that I cannot even read, went shopping for a plant pot, got mediocre ice cream at McDonald's, dehydration, oh and got lost for over 2 hours.
Good news was I had a splendid nap and amazing food. I love my mama-tica's cooking. She is adorable. She has food for me every time I return to the house. It's like she is hunger psychic. She also wears high heals and dress up clothes around the house as she cooks and cleans. She is the source of all my male-folk "women jokes".
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Day 2 and beyond
Friday morning (August 19) began with slaughter. I decided I had had enough of the darn ants eating my mamon chino (for further reference of what a mamon chino see previous blog). They make small moving designs on my breakfast table and quite frankly they were interesting- but not that interesting. So, I began to shmoosh them with a mickey mouse paper towel until Olga come out with my breakfast, saw me, and screamed "AMIGAS!"
Amigas means friends in Spanish in case you were wondering. So I completely wiped out her colony of homies. I apologized and then she laughed. Then she said "hamigas" which means ants I dictionaried. Harmigas sounds a lot like amigas don't you think? So I laughed because I thought I miss understood Olga. I began the slaughter once again. Let's just say I was right to think Olga said amigas the first time.... enough said. Apology barely accepted.
Most of the day was spent inside because of the rain. Rain, however, is an understatement. An accurate statement would be: I could have white water rafted down to San Jose using my sidewalk! Yeeehaaaa!
Molly and I spent the day going through vocabulary words in Spanish, making origami paper cranes, witnessing her mamatica in her undies, and don't forget our second shower going through the university campus in the spontaneous weather.
Saturday (August 20) was orientation. English..... sigh.
We went through rules, regulations, and were fed. Informational but uneventful. But don't you worry, it gets better. I successfully coordinated a 22 persons adventure to Jaco. Jaco is a beautiful beach on the Pacific side of Costa Rica. I hired a private bus driver through the university to take us there and back. So tomorrow will be full of paradise and sunburns to be. Oh, and I was a momentary photographer for seven gypsy women in belly dancing attire. OHHH! and they were all 50 years and olders! giggles.
My night was made with a few skype calls and dinner. I burned as many calories as I consumed laughing as hard as I did. I am going out tonight for dinner with friends. My papa-tico gave me directions on a note card to hand to the taxi driver. I believe they included my address, the address for the the restaurant, and a threat. He also tried to give me the hunting knife I have him back for the evening. The rest of the conversation was spent with impressions of what I would do with a knife, pistol, and eventually a rifle in a bar for intimidation factors. My papa-tico could easily be the next James Bond 18 - Latino Style.
Well, off to intimidate some poor barman. Hasta Luego!
Amigas means friends in Spanish in case you were wondering. So I completely wiped out her colony of homies. I apologized and then she laughed. Then she said "hamigas" which means ants I dictionaried. Harmigas sounds a lot like amigas don't you think? So I laughed because I thought I miss understood Olga. I began the slaughter once again. Let's just say I was right to think Olga said amigas the first time.... enough said. Apology barely accepted.
Most of the day was spent inside because of the rain. Rain, however, is an understatement. An accurate statement would be: I could have white water rafted down to San Jose using my sidewalk! Yeeehaaaa!
Molly and I spent the day going through vocabulary words in Spanish, making origami paper cranes, witnessing her mamatica in her undies, and don't forget our second shower going through the university campus in the spontaneous weather.
Saturday (August 20) was orientation. English..... sigh.
We went through rules, regulations, and were fed. Informational but uneventful. But don't you worry, it gets better. I successfully coordinated a 22 persons adventure to Jaco. Jaco is a beautiful beach on the Pacific side of Costa Rica. I hired a private bus driver through the university to take us there and back. So tomorrow will be full of paradise and sunburns to be. Oh, and I was a momentary photographer for seven gypsy women in belly dancing attire. OHHH! and they were all 50 years and olders! giggles.
My night was made with a few skype calls and dinner. I burned as many calories as I consumed laughing as hard as I did. I am going out tonight for dinner with friends. My papa-tico gave me directions on a note card to hand to the taxi driver. I believe they included my address, the address for the the restaurant, and a threat. He also tried to give me the hunting knife I have him back for the evening. The rest of the conversation was spent with impressions of what I would do with a knife, pistol, and eventually a rifle in a bar for intimidation factors. My papa-tico could easily be the next James Bond 18 - Latino Style.
Well, off to intimidate some poor barman. Hasta Luego!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
.....first accounts.....
A quick appreciation to all the friends and family that decided to send us off at the airport on August 17th at an unpleasant 5:00 am. Thank you.
After a long day of flights, motion sickness, layovers, and famous San Fan chowder bread bowl specials; we arrived to Costa Rica. Humidity and a joke for customs us and our over sized baggage. Molly's family was like Christmas lights in April shining and flashing their personalized welcome sign. My 'mama-tica' was hidden among the brute taxi men.
The day began in excitement and adventure and ended with uncertainty and adventures. My family, Olga and Jorge, welcomed me with a 'beso'. Yes, yes you heard me right, Olga and Jorge! Perfecto! Back to the 'beso'. This is a cultural greeting in which one kisses the other on the right cheek/ear area. Kinky, but delightful. My Tico family navigated me to my new room which was a surprisingly two times bigger than my North American room! Again, Perfecto!
My night continues to dive deeper into our adventure as I had Jorge instruct me on how to use the shower. With much confusion, hand motions, getting into the shower (with clothes on), and turning the water on; Jorge managed to complete the instructions to the gawking Grinda. The gawking came from the startling image of 1) Jorge hopping into the shower with the clothes on to get his point across. 2) The open electrical wires managing the shower head that should be poring out upon my head. 3) Oh and did I forget to tell you my host family speaks as much English as I do Spanish -- nada.
Yes you may laugh. I understand you cannot make this things up so soak up the impeccably great first impression i made with Costa Rica. (smile of uncertain delight). I go to bed to drumming, drunken cheers, and sckadadling across my ceiling.
My morning begins with a simple breakfast and lack of communication. Olga takes me around Heredia and then to Molly's house which is a fantastic 2 minute walk from my from gate. We get rained in at Molly's homestay house for an hour and a half of pure thunderstorm. The rain flooded the streets, the thunder and lightning shook the earth, and I sat happy as a clam witnessing the entire thing. There were a few crack, boom, and kapows that made me yelp. But all the better to laugh at my dears.
Molly's Tico brothers, Richard and Kenny, took us on a brisk tour of Heredia. Praise Jesus because they spoke incredible English. With these boys, my favorite moments of my day evolved. First great laugh came from Kenny stating the Spanish word for a sea anemone which is pronounced like "an en.o.ma." Sound it out.
My second event was Kenny and Richard translating cultural ghost stories to Molly and myself. The best story surrounded the plot of gnomes stealing babies form palm trees on beaches and something about rainbows. The boys couldn't for the life of them understand why we were laughing so hard as they tried to persuade us that the story is most definitely an real account. Oh gnomes.
Mi madre hacer bueno! Let me repeat that for you.
My mom cooks well! She made me Chinese for dinner, fried platanos (bananas), and fed me the coolest fruit I have ever bared witness to. It is red, spiky, and fuzzy. It has an indescribable flavor and texture, but boy oh boy is it good to eat! I wanted to serenade my mama tica with a "simple bare necessities of life" cover. Yah man...
The best part of this unique fruit is its easily mispronounced name. It is called manon chino which I guess sound like some other funny word our Tico brothers would not embarrass me with sharing. I am fairly certain it might have been a little naughty. Google manon chino fruit, you'll be jealous. (wink)
After a long day of flights, motion sickness, layovers, and famous San Fan chowder bread bowl specials; we arrived to Costa Rica. Humidity and a joke for customs us and our over sized baggage. Molly's family was like Christmas lights in April shining and flashing their personalized welcome sign. My 'mama-tica' was hidden among the brute taxi men.
The day began in excitement and adventure and ended with uncertainty and adventures. My family, Olga and Jorge, welcomed me with a 'beso'. Yes, yes you heard me right, Olga and Jorge! Perfecto! Back to the 'beso'. This is a cultural greeting in which one kisses the other on the right cheek/ear area. Kinky, but delightful. My Tico family navigated me to my new room which was a surprisingly two times bigger than my North American room! Again, Perfecto!
My night continues to dive deeper into our adventure as I had Jorge instruct me on how to use the shower. With much confusion, hand motions, getting into the shower (with clothes on), and turning the water on; Jorge managed to complete the instructions to the gawking Grinda. The gawking came from the startling image of 1) Jorge hopping into the shower with the clothes on to get his point across. 2) The open electrical wires managing the shower head that should be poring out upon my head. 3) Oh and did I forget to tell you my host family speaks as much English as I do Spanish -- nada.
Yes you may laugh. I understand you cannot make this things up so soak up the impeccably great first impression i made with Costa Rica. (smile of uncertain delight). I go to bed to drumming, drunken cheers, and sckadadling across my ceiling.
My morning begins with a simple breakfast and lack of communication. Olga takes me around Heredia and then to Molly's house which is a fantastic 2 minute walk from my from gate. We get rained in at Molly's homestay house for an hour and a half of pure thunderstorm. The rain flooded the streets, the thunder and lightning shook the earth, and I sat happy as a clam witnessing the entire thing. There were a few crack, boom, and kapows that made me yelp. But all the better to laugh at my dears.
Molly's Tico brothers, Richard and Kenny, took us on a brisk tour of Heredia. Praise Jesus because they spoke incredible English. With these boys, my favorite moments of my day evolved. First great laugh came from Kenny stating the Spanish word for a sea anemone which is pronounced like "an en.o.ma." Sound it out.
My second event was Kenny and Richard translating cultural ghost stories to Molly and myself. The best story surrounded the plot of gnomes stealing babies form palm trees on beaches and something about rainbows. The boys couldn't for the life of them understand why we were laughing so hard as they tried to persuade us that the story is most definitely an real account. Oh gnomes.
Mi madre hacer bueno! Let me repeat that for you.
My mom cooks well! She made me Chinese for dinner, fried platanos (bananas), and fed me the coolest fruit I have ever bared witness to. It is red, spiky, and fuzzy. It has an indescribable flavor and texture, but boy oh boy is it good to eat! I wanted to serenade my mama tica with a "simple bare necessities of life" cover. Yah man...
The best part of this unique fruit is its easily mispronounced name. It is called manon chino which I guess sound like some other funny word our Tico brothers would not embarrass me with sharing. I am fairly certain it might have been a little naughty. Google manon chino fruit, you'll be jealous. (wink)
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