Septiembre 12-18

September 12-13 Nothing extraordinary happened that I can remember. Mostly our days were filled with recuperation from the amazing weekend. I was ending my sickness, and Molly was only begining. What are friends for right?

September 12: Monday night was our Tico vs. Gringo / Tica vs. Gringa game. I am proud to give a shout out at the amazing talent the USAC students had! Gringas won! Gringos were not quite as lucky, but boy did they put up an amazing fight!

September 13: Tuesday evening I made a fabulous dinner in my cuisine class. We made "pastel de pollo" which translates to chicken cake. Though it looked like a beautiful braided pastry, inside was a delicious surprise of shredded chicken, corn, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more decadent goodies. I received my first exam back with a B. Not amazing, but acceptable and fair.

September 14: Wednesday was the eve of independence. If I understood correctly, Costa Rica gained their independence from Spain in 1821. I believe this is also when they decided to back up their decision of peace with eliminating their Army. On the eve of Tico Independence, everyone gathers in the central park for a fiesta. Everyone and their grandma buys, makes, steals, or has a lantern that they illuminate the park with. There are lanterns that resemble chandeliers, houses, buildings, hello kitty, spiderman. Molly and mine, resembled a white-trash tuppa-ware from the dollar store wrapped in scrap lace and confetti stars. Molly and I were so intrigued by the idea of creating the best lanterns, but we were sourly interrupted by our futbol agenda. We high-tailed it to the indoor arena. I was volunteered as the goalie for the evening. I have to remind you that my goalie skills have not improved since my PAL soccer childhood; nor will they in the future. I successfully dodged most of the balls just in time for them to pass into the net. However, there was an occasion or two where I stood firm and allowed the ball to ricochet off my face, arms, feet, stomach, oh yes, and my chest.....

After one loss, one win, and one goal for 'muah'; we ran uphill all the way home. We collected our lanterns and wandered down the streets of Heredia to join in the celebration. What is better than one independence day celebrations filled with fireworks and carnival food? Two independence day celebrations filled with fireworks and carnival food! I enjoyed both my American and Latin American festivals. I bought myself another wonderful churro filled with oozing dulce de leche. When our lanterns overflowed with failure rather than the expected illumination, we decided to get a beer and discuss the amazingness Costa Rica has to offer.

September 15: Happy Fourth of July! oh wait. Happy September 15th!!! My mama-tica and I walked to our front row seats on the curb for the parade. We sat through four hours of unsynchronized children in their school's marching band.We also saw clowns on stilts, a bicycling dog, costumes, cheerleaders, and mimes! Molly and I purchased snowcones drenched in orange syrup and creamy frosting. Also hidden within this diabetic nightmare was powdered milk! Delicious only when molested by the raze of the sun and nothing else matters but the feeling of hand shaved ice from some sketchy carnie!

Wondering where our mischievous tico brothers were, we headed home. Finding two drunk teens in a parent-less home was not quite what I expected to find. Unfortunately, this story is not the greatest, but I am deciding to tell you regardless due to the impressive following story. This way, you might fully understand the greatness of our evening.

Taking a while to realize how dangerously drunk one of Richard's "friends" was, I made the ultimate decision to take him home. Taking a while to realize that no one was helping me carry friend #1 home. I struggled against his dead weight, but I was able to ask if the yellow house was his. After affirming that the yellow house was his, friend #1 blackout and hit the street faster than I could respond. Taking a while to realize how far 10 feet from a house truly is when you are carrying a full grown man, I pounded on the gate. I called out in my terrible Spanish and then in English hoping someone would understand the language of 'damsel in distress'. The family came out to assist me in returning their puking son to their home. Taking a while to realize I had already made my way to friend #1's house, my other friends run to the yellow house...... To my surprise, I had taken fried #1 to the wrong yellow house.

In a cluster cuss of laughing and insanity, we collected friend #1 up to take back to Richard's house. Kenny and myself stayed at the house to babysit the unconscious drunk while everyone else collected courage to take the emotionally unstable #2. May I just vent for a second. There is a matter of intelligence needed for consuming alcohol. I felt the need to create a program where all individuals needed to pass a semester long course to gain permission and a license to consume. We do this for fishing, hunting, driving, and many other privileges. Why the freak is the consumption of alcohol not in this list?

The situation gets better. While babysitting, friend #1's mother comes to the house. I let her and had the obligation of explaining why her son was covered in puke and sleeping with his eyes open. Apparently she already knew a similar version of my story because the neighborhood watch program gossiped its way to his mother. Even better, she summons her husband to pick them up to the hospital at the same time Richard's parents return from the day at the beach. Tired and naive to the situation.

To wrap up the difficult afternoon, Molly and I were able to witness a first class Spanish chew out. Molly's mama-tica so kindly slowed down her Spanish in order to direct her discipline for all of us. Thank goodness for Kenny who gathered enough strength to interrupt his mother to inform her that Molly and I had no participation in the party beyond cleaning up the aftermath.

Frustrated, glum, and shaken by the afternoon we decided to consume our emotions with some ice cream. Uncertain how to finish our Independence day celebration, Kenny advised us to walk to Mercedes. Mercedes is a small portion of Heredia about forty minutes walk up hill. Kenny mentioned clowns, festivals, music; everything needed to lift spirits. We arrived disappointed to a deserted town.

Giving up our chances at break, we decided to sit at the bus stop for home - in silent frustration. We lifted our heads to the sound of shear terror. There was a young boy running with all his might down the hill just in front of the bus stop. Following the boy was a creature so terrifying the Ticos use it for late night festivals.

Pardon me for a second while I try to explain what this creature looks like. I am uncertain of the name, but the creature stands about ten or more feet high. The best image I can present to you is a giant Pez dispenser with distorted faces with exaggerated expressions. The costume is a large cylinder shaped costume that rests over a man who is only visible from the knees down. The faces sometimes resemble people; this perticular creature resembled Bob Dole.

Back to the situation. The creature follows the child at increasing speed around the corner. The situation was like a bad car wreck. You know you probably shouldn't be staring, but you cannot muster up the strength to stop. We look at one another and begin following the mad chase.

Our chase takes us over a hill where we find the entire town of Mercedes walking down the street with more of these creatures. Opra, George Bush, Simbad, the Devil and other giant Pez creatures tower over me as I mingle down the road. The parade finished at the park where the real party began. The purpose of the creatures was for children entertainment. The children smack the creature for attention and the creature returns the favor by chasing or thumping the children with the distorted head. Richard knew one of the boys inside the Pez creature and found it hilarious when he advised it to chase me down the street. It was like a reoccurring nightmare for me. Being chased down the street, unable to outrun the unknown creature. Umbrella as my only weapon, I beat back the creature in desperation.

Richard then asked the Pez creature if it would shed its skin so that Molly could be consumed by my worst nightmare. Molly ascended into the costume only to become the life of the festival - chasing children down the dark streets and dancing with the local brass band. Words cannot explain.

After finally ridding ourselves of the ridiculous costume, Mercedes began its slow pace to bed. We loitered just a tad longer so that we could talk with some local ticos. Rough housing brought Molly and I together in a great KABAM! Bloody nose. Laughter. Bloody nose.

We made our way home on the near deserted midnight bus home. Bloody. Tired. Satisfied.

September 16: School was a cruel decision after a holiday. Homework and Skyped most of the day. The evening brought fun and new traditions. I got myself ready for my Host brother and his wife's Baby Shower. I also was so nicely asked to get my mama-tica ready. I did Olga's hair, I also dressed her. You can never go wrong with a slimming black outfit and red high heels. She was sexy, and I told her so.

Her daughter picked us up and drove us to a country club in Monte Cruz. We were shamefully late. Baby showers are more like rehearsal dinners for weddings. There was men, women, children, friends, family, and me. Everyone brought presents, and each one was unwrapped and presented individually. There were games of intelligence and embarrassment. There was butlers to wait on our tables. Classy and delicious.

The party went from six until midnight. These people know how to throw a party. I called Molly to beg to not hang out. Surprisingly, she didn't mind because her night was filled with just as much excitement. Molly had a very kind, old EXERCIST at her house all night. Holy cow, Emily Rose, what a night!

September 17: More homework. Olga and I made a little excursion to the market for groceries. The people were filled with curiosity as I made my way around their supermarket. Olga hired a pirate taxi to drag us up the hill, thank the Lord!

Molly and I were able to have a good conversation in Spanish with her parents. I understand most of what they were telling us. My favorite part was Molly's mama tica advising us on what she wanted for her birthday. I understood one thing. Stripper.

We laughed the whole way to downtown Heredia for some errands. We were stopped by two ticos who spotted us miles away. They are taking American culture classes and assigned interviews with Gringos. They had been searching for a Gringo all day, and instead got two! We took them for ice cream and allowed them to record our interview. I think that its funny, in the United States, we would have shrugged them off like stray dogs. Here, there is no obligations, no place to be. Pura Vida!

After making two new friends, we went home for another movie night and homework date.

September 18: Alarm goes off at 4:50 am. I get dressed and make myself left over spaghetti. Molly and I head to the central park to meet our non existent adventure buddies. Note to self: don't rely on friends to wake up early for an adventure after a night of partying.

Molly and I leave the part alone. We made our way to the bus station. Second note to self: don't rely on Richard or any other Tico's directions. We couldn't find our bus to the Barva Volcano if our life depended on it. We sought directions from twenty different ticos who all gave us a different answers that led us on a wild goose chase over the entire downtown Heredia. We took the walk of shame passed all the ticos who had given us directions as we went home. No bus. No adventure. Yet.

I went home and moped around the house listening to one of my favorite bands. Nothing says your from Idaho when you sit on your porch in your poka-dot PJs listening to Mumford and Sons. I decided to wander over to Molly's to study. Perfect timing. The Baca family was about to leave for an adventure to Cartago and asked me to join. We piled in the car and drove to the famous "Basilica de Nuestra Senora de los Angeles Church. There were a few interesting traditions or choices that I didn't quite understand. One was the people going into the church first stopped to buy legal (and some illegal) lottery tickets in bulk. Then we entered the church to find everyone crawling down the isles of pews on their knees. I was able to take some good pictures inside, but stumbled upon an odd item. On my way out to the holy water that you can buy by the bottle, I found a table of electronic candles that are "Only $100 colones!" You can apparently pay for your prayers now! Hot diggity!

There was a small museum that was under the church. I enjoyed the story about the origin of the church. In summary, there was a young girl hundreds of years ago who found a doll (La Negrita - The Black Virgin) that disapeared over night after putting her in a jewelry box. The young girl continued to find the doll resting on a rock in the forest every follow morning. The girl in desperation for answers gave the doll to the Priest. He also had the same disappearing trouble. Returning each time to the same rock, the Priest figured this was a sign of Holy ground and the doll happened to be the Virgin Mary. So they decided to build a beautiful church around this rock that you can still see today - with the doll perched on top.

Following the visit to the church we went to a local restaurant for some casados! I had friend fish, rice, beans, platanos, and pina juice. It was delicious. We drove through beautiful coffee plantations on our way to a church that has withstood over four hundred years. It was beautiful. Kenny and I meandered through an abandoned building behind. It was surprisingly tranquil amongst the eeriness. Speaking of eery, we drove to a dam on the way back home. The dam was quite possibly the highest point I have ever stood over. To me, it seemed like miles above the river. As vertigo settled in, the passing cars rumbled by us causing the entire bridge structure to quiver.

We had the two gringas hanging their heads out the window (cameras included), we have the mother and father listening to their newly bought Gospel CDs, then we have the little brother playing his naughty english pop songs as loud as the cell phones speakers will reach in hopes of covering his mothers gospel sing-a-longs. Some times I love stereotypes.