It seems to me that being abroad is not a complete abroad experience unless you embarrass yourself on a very regular basis. After all the various fuck ups of being in Denmark (lure=nap, lort=shit) I feel it is much easier to brush off the constant mistakes and mishaps here.
On Friday of last week, our class went on a trip to Cartago, a smaller city about 30 minutes away from San Jose. We visited a church which has in it a statue by the name of La Negrita (the little black one). The story goes that a young girl found the little black statue of the Virgin Mary in the woods and brought it home with her. She went to sleep and when she woke up the statue was gone. The next day she went back to the woods and it was there again, in its original spot. She brought it home three times and the same thing happened. So she brought it to a priest, and the same thing happened to him. So it was decided that the statue was divine. I guess at some point the statue stopped running back to the woods because now it is in a giant golden case inside of the church. Personally I think the story sounds slightly frightening, but people in Cartago are pretty into it.
So now the statue is believed to have healing powers, so when people are praying for someone who is sick or hurt, they come and ask La Negrita. They walk the length of the entire (huge) church on their knees up to the alter to ask her for help. Then after she helps the person in question, they come back to the church and walk on their knees to say thank you to her. It's pretty cool, people come from all over the world to see and pray to this little statue. On the anniversary of the day the statue was found millions of people come to the church.
After the church, our class went to a market, which was really bustling and a lot of fun. Our teacher told my friend Robin and I to be back at 1 (it was 10 at the time). So we walked around the market and then decided to go see a bit of the little town of Cartago. So we had a lovely time, we went to a park, where there were lots of children chasing birds (David - if you are reading this, all I could think of was "mischief knows no language") there was also a man dressed as Jesus who sat down and talked to an old woman for quite some time.
So at about 11:45 Robin and I decided to go back to the market and get some lunch. We took our time getting there and all of the sudden were met by our teacher. She informed us that we were in fact a) supposed to meet at 11, not 1 as we had thought b) we were not supposed to have left the market and c) they thought we got kidnapped so they called the police. Well shit. It was one of the more embarrassing moments of my life, but what are you going to do? And I definitely learned the difference between the words for 11 o'clock and 1 o'clock.
On Friday we had yet another enjoyable night with our boyfriend El Steinvorth. The bartender now knows us which is excellent, it feels good to be "regulars" at a place here. On Saturday we got up early to go to Volcan Irazu, a volcano that is about 2 hours away from San Jose. We rode the bus, which was quite a nauseous time especially because I was being a good Jew and fasting on Yom Kippur. But I made it sans vomiting, so I was proud.
The volcano was really cool, you could see a giant crater with a ton of steam coming off from it. We climbed up a big hill and got an incredible view. It was cold enough to see your breath, which I did not think happened in Costa Rica. Shorts were an unfortunate choice, I only wore them because every other time a Tico has said "it's cold" I have been sweating, so I did not head the advice of my host mother and quite regretted this decision. But what are you going to do? A new phrase I have learned from some Tico youth I hung out with the other night is "Todo bien" which is the equivalent to "it's all good," and/or one of my favorite phrases "don't even worry about it," this will be an important phrase to remember I feel.
On Sunday, Robin and I had opted out of rafting with some of our other gringo amigos because it was rather pricey, so we decided instead to take a bus to Alajuela, a town about an hour away that we had read about in a guide book. There was a coffee plantation near by so we figured we would take a bus to the town and then find our way from there.
The only problem with this plan is that finding places is incredibly difficult here. First of all, they don't have addresses in Costa Rica, which is fun and feels very laid back and cool at times and other times is rather frustrating. Secondly, it seems that Ticos are quite bad at giving directions. I sympathize with this, as I am terrible at giving directions, but literally everyone will tell you a different way to get to the same place. And it usually takes about five tries to actually get to said place. It is something I have never experienced to such an extent as I have here.
So we wandered around Alajuela for a while, following various directions and ending up walking in circles. Finally we broke down and got a taxi. The cab driver was really nice, and when we got to the coffee farm we determined that there was literally no way we would have EVER found it on our own.
After the stress of being lost and not knowing where we were going, we felt completely calm and collected upon our entrance to the coffee farm when we were greeted with "hello friends! the tour starts in 20 minutes, would you like to wait in our butterfly farm?" ABSOLUTELY. We looked at butterflies and talked with our tourguide, a new friend named Dayanna, who we have plans to hang out with again next week.
The coffee farm was beautiful, and HUGE. It was at the top of a big hill and when you looked off the ridge all you could see was coffee plants and trees with giant leaves. It literally looked like Jurassic Park. We finished the tour jittery from all the coffee and in a great mood from the beauty and tranquility of being in the middle of nowhere where it looked like we might encounter Little Foot at any moment.
Instead of taking a cab back down to Alajuela, we got directions to the nearest bus stop, which was only about a mile away. So we walked down the hill, all the while looking off the side of the road at endless green. We got to the bus at 3:07. The bus came on the hour, once an hour. So we had quite some time to kill. We sat in the bus stop and talked rather extensively about the dinosaurs we wished we could ride back to San Jose in lieu of the bus. But the dinosaurs never came and after an hour, the bus did come. We were a bit nervous about getting back to San Jose, because we did not know what time those buses stopped running. However, we got back and after a few misdirections (of course) we found a bus that was going back to SJ and all was well.
It felt really good to navigate (albeit with a few hours of being lost, and missing a bus) our whole day by ourselves. The week has been good. It is our last week of this section of language classes, so I move up a level starting next week. I feel like my Spanish is still rather horrible, but it's getting less horrible every day. I hung out with a Tico the other day and felt like he understood probably 90% of what I was trying to say, or at least pretended to. And I understood about 80% of what he was saying, and pretended with the rest :)
I forgot how silly it is to learn a language. I feel like I am constantly saying things that are slightly off, and therefore have completely different meanings such as "I'm going to go eat a shower" and the Ticos around me just think "Oh well, she probably means she is going to take a shower" The other day I claimed that I enjoyed the fruit, dog (perro=dog pera=fruit) another fun one is that barato = cheap and baracho = drunk.
This weekend I am treking to the Caribbean. The hostel we are staying at rents hammocks, not beds, so I think it will be a wonderful weekend. My plans are to eat a lot and lay on the beach. Until next time, pura vida!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
carnivals and unicorns
During the evening we happened upon some American students from the University of Costa Rica (who by chance knew my good friend Taylor, a happy coincidence, I love finding out how small the world really is) and they introduced us to their friend Carlos and his brother, Mario, who was showing photos at the exhibition. Mario was headed to El Steinvorth for an opening of another photo show featuring seniors from the photo program at Veritas and invited us to come along.
We walked in and immediately felt at home. El Steinvorth is long and narrow, with a bar on the lower level as well as a stage and dance floor (where a partner and salsa skills are NOT required!) Not to mention that Imperials are $1. It definitely has a more alternative crowd, it seems like quite the bohemian hang out for the artists and musicians of San Jose (and now Robin and I as well) Upstairs there are couches and tables and a balcony where you can look down and see the whole bar. There is tons of art on the wall, right now it is photos, but it changes frequently. Robin and I are in love with El Steinvorth, not to mention that we talked to many new Tico friends and it doesn't seem like a place many Americans know about. We have since been there three times, we plan on becoming regulars.
On Saturday I was invited to go with Robin's Mama Tica, "E", host sister, "J", and daughter, "C" to a friend's house for a birthday party. We got up early and took the bus for about an hour and a half. San Jose sits in between 2 mountain ranges, so the climate is quite moderate here. This friend lived on the other side of the mountains, and it is unbelievable how much the climate can change when we are just an hour away. I was very very sweaty. It was gross.
We arrived on the bus and were picked up by the friend who is a single mom with three young kids, so E sat in the front seat of the car, and J, Robin and myself sat in the seats and we had 4 kids on top of us. It defintely felt like we were in rural Costa Rica, driving down an empty highway with the windows down, reggaeton blasting and an assortment of children sitting on top of us.
We were dropped off at a park, while E and her friend went to go to the grocery store to pick up lunch. The park was on a river, whose name I do not recall, but it was magical. We walked in and were greeted by a friendly fat woman skinning a chicken. The park was incredibly green, with giant leaves everywhere. Those of you who have been to the Volunteer Park Conservatory with me know my affinity for giant leaves, it was awesome. There were also bright and crazy looking flowers that I have never seen before in my life. My favorite was orange and pink and yellow and looked like a beehive, and weighed probably about 5 pounds (see photo). We were the only people who were there and it really felt like a secret garden. I was expecting to see a unicorn or something. I didn't quite get the unicorn, but there was a white pony roaming around the park, I tried to catch it to ride it but it did not seem to want that. It was nice just to have it walking around in the vicinity though.
We got a bbq pit, with a picnic table under a covered area. E and her friend came back with Chorizo, beef and taco fixin's and we went to town. It was fantastic, and incredibly relaxing. After we waited 30 minutes we went swimming in the river. I have noticed that Costa Ricans are incredibly adamant about the waiting 30 minutes before swimming, E, J and E's friend (whose name I have forgotten, or never really knew, which is why I am only referring to her as E's friend) all made comments about it, and last weekend before going to the ocean, my host mom, Emilia also instructed us to MAKE SURE we wait 30 minutes after eating to go swimming.
The river was wonderful. It had an area where the water didn't flow fast and made a natural pool. Near the shores there were rocks you could sit on and be partially submerged in the water while conversing and hanging out. I felt like a mermaid. Awesome. There was also a rope swing, which made for good times.
After spending the day at the river, we went back to the friend's house around 3 and as we were driving the rain began (in my time here it has rained every single afternoon). This was crazy rain. I stepped out of the car and between the car and the maybe 10 feet to the house I was completely drenched, it was still warm out though, and I was still in my swimsuit so I frolicked a bit in the rain.
The night was pretty chill at first, some other lady friends came over, it was very silly. They are all around 30 and the conversation was a lot of complaining about men. It was bizarre for all of them to talk about having at least one child by the time they were my age. After cake, the other two ladies left and two male friends of E and friend came. This is the point at which the relaxing day started getting a little nutty.
The friend had 2 sisters who then showed up. They were about 14 and 17 I would guess and were literally dressed like prostitutes. I kind of think the older one might actually have been a hooker but who knows. I say this because she was dropped off by a man who looked like he was about 50, Robin says to me, "dude it looks like that girl is going to make out with that guy" and I said "no, I'm pretty sure that is her dad," then I turned around and saw that they were in fact making out. "I stand corrected," I said to Robin.
So after the prostitutes came we got into the car and left to go out. Now, as I mentioned we were in a pretty rural area of Costa Rica, not very many houses, farms, a church. So I was expecting a sleepy townie bar with like 10 people, maybe a dog, that kind of thing. And Robin and I were pretty sleepy from being outside all day but we thought to ourselves, oh, they are like 30, we won't be out past 12. Little did we know.
So we drove for a long time, like so long that Robin and I fell asleep in the backseat. And when we woke up WE WERE AT A CARNIVAL. But this was no ordinary carnival. There were rides, yes, but there were also 5 or so clubs in tents, including one 3 story club tents. But the prostitutes (I am referring to them as so, but I actually think they were dressed like sluts and were not in fact walkers of the night, they didn't speak English and I didn't know how to ask politely in Spanish, or English for that matter, so who knows) were not 18 and the clubs were carding so we were standing outside trying to come up with a plan when all of the sudden there were hundreds of people running in our direction. We jumped behind one of the male friends of E and the commotion stopped for a minute and then people started running again. I am not sure what they were running from but it could not have been good. For all I know it could have just been someone projectile vomiting or something but either way it freaked me and Robin out. It seemed to not sit well with the rest of our group too, because we left after that.
At this point, Robin and I both thought the night was shot and we were looking forward to going to bed. But we went to a bar instead. This is more what we were picturing from the start. It was slightly more crowded, but chill. There was a dance floor and they were playing traditional music. It seemed like more of an adult scene, but it was fine. I should also mention that E was rather intoxicated and it was silly. Drunk adults always make me chuckle. She had informed us that this was probably the only night of the year she would go out, because she has a kid and her husband doesn't like going out (he did not come with us).
One thing I realized while at the bar was that it is very difficult to be tactful in another language. There was a gentleman who was about 30 who asked me to dance a few times, which I did, but then he was asking me to see him in San Jose and this I was not interested in. He didn't speak any English, so when he asked my why not, I thought for a minute about how to put it lightly that he was too old, but the only thing I could figure out how to say was "well, how old are you?" and he said "28" and I said, "That is why." It was a little awkward, but I feel like being abroad and learning another language is just one awkward moment after another, so I wasn't too concerned about it.
Later on in the evening, Robin and I thought it would be fun to dance with E and her friend, so the 4 of us made our way to the dance floor were having a good time dancing. At one point an old man, about 60, joined us. It was very silly, there was a lot of making circles and walking one way and then the other, it actually felt kind of like the horah to merengue music. Good times indeed. So after we got tired, Robin and I sat down and E went up to the bar with our dancing friend.
Around 2:30 or so, the bar was clearing out and E called Robin over. She introduced us to her "good friend" who we had witnessed her meet literally 40 minutes before. He told us that his brother lived in the United States, and as if that was his que, seemingly out of nowhere, a silly little man resembling a turtle appeared and said in his turtle-like voice "hello." He then proceeded to tell us about a very important expo they were going to go see then and invited us to come. This seemed odd as it was 3am, and Robin and I were falling asleep, so we declined. E's friend was going home then and E seemed to want to go to this expo or whatever the hell it was, so we went with her friend and figured we would see E in the morning.
We woke up the next morning around 10 or 11 and came out of our room. We looked around the house, which was not very big. E's sister was there, her daughter was there, her friend and her kids were there, the prostitutes were there, but we did not see E anywhere. We thought this odd, but figured maybe she had gone to the store or something. Robin and I both suck at Spanish, but we gathered that we were going back to the river we were at the day before. We weren't too worried, because we were with E's kid, so we figured we would wind up with her at some point.
We arrived at the river to find E with the old dancing man and his turtle brother. Upon seeing this, Robin and I began to discuss the situation, as it very likely was lost in translation. Had she gone home with these old dudes? Does that mean she hooked up with one of them? Ew? Our answer became clear as throughout the day she kissed the old dancing man many times, as well as cradled him in her bosom. The real indicator was when she bit into a hotdog and winked at him. Ew. So I guess she goes ALL OUT on her one night out per year. Shit.
So the old men were just kicking it, acting like they were part of the family, and no one seemed to find this odd besides Robin and myself. We were pretty weirded out, but we still had a nice day by the river and just tried to act like it wasn't weird that E was having an affair with a man she had met the night before. Finally, much to our relief, J, E's sister came and sat with us and shared that she thought this was loco and she was going to go back to San Jose if we wanted to come. Not wanting to hang out with the old dancing man and his turtle brother, we happily accepted the invitation and went to the bus to go back to SJ. The best part of this story is that E did not return to San Jose until the next night. Meaning that she probably had another romantic evening with her dance partner. Again, ew. But to each their own I guess.
Yesterday was the Dia del independencia for Costa Rica (and most of Latin America) so we didn't have school. Tuesday night we went to El Steinvorth's and had another wonderful night. From there we went with a few friends we had met at one of our other evenings at El Steiny's (as we affectionately call it) to another bar called AreaCity. AreaCity was not as pretty as El Steiny's but was equally fun. We rang in independence day to a series of fantastic 80's dance hits (don't, don't you want me?) So much fun. We got home at 3am and were awoken at 5, as it is customary in Costa Rica for children to run through the streets banging pots and lighting off fireworks at 5am, no bueno. After that ended I went back to sleep and was woken up around 12 by Robin and Kelsey at my door telling me to get dressed because we were going to a parade. The parade was fun, really good music. After, we went out for breakfast, which was delicious and delightful. This is not unique to Costa Rica, but I just want to make a comment that hang over breakfasts are the greatest.
Not quite sure what this weekend will bring, I have yet to make plans. I am fairly certain it will be less wacky than last weekend, as that may be the oddest experience of my life. Oh well, pura vida!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Quiere a bailar?
It is ridiculous to me that it has not even been two weeks since my arrival in Costa Rica. There is much to report on. Last week, after my second dance class, some gal pals (Kelsey, Robin and Brianna) and myself felt that we were competent enough with our moves to hit the club scene in San Jose. As it turns out, I at least, could have used a few more lessons. The clubs here are kind of like in movies, where everyone seems to know the same exact dance. Which would be awesome if a) I could keep up/knew said dance and b) if I had a dance partner, which seems to be a requirement for the clubs here. After the initial shock of how good EVERYONE was at dancing, Kelsey and Robin were invited to dance by 2 Ticos and I scoped out the partner situation. There were quite a few gentlemen standing on the side of the dance floor, seemingly ready to get their groove on. After choosing my victim, and practicing my best Spanish accent, I sauntered over with confidence and asked "Usted quiere a bailar?" the gentleman in question responded IN ENGLISH "uh...maybe later." Not quite what I imagined, which was a) him saying yes and b) us showing up every single person in the club with our wildly fantastic and ground breaking dance moves. But what are you gonna do? I had a lovely night dancing with my amigas. The world will have to wait on the ground breaking dance moves.
After class on Friday we went into town to hop the bus to the beach town of Jaco, which is (theoretically) 2 hours away from San Jose (it took us about 4). On the way to the bus stop, me, Robin and our token gentleman friend Buck got a bit turned around. Getting turned around in San Jose is easy because there are no street names and often times the sidewalk just...ends. ANYWAY we got lost trying to get to our bus and were just one street over from the main street when all of the sudden we were literally stepping over people sleeping in boxes. And every other person we passed whispered "cocaine? heroin? cocaine? heroine?" I wasn't nervous about being there, because we were all together but it was quite jolting to me to just go off one street and really feel like I am in a poor, dirty, sad city. I felt uneasy with the situation, just because that is a world that I have never experienced before, I have never seen that kind of thing up close, let alone literally be walking through it.
We quickly made our way back to the main street and found the bus. Clearly our first inclination was to run away from what we were seeing, and that is the logical response. But isn't that part of the problem? That most peoples first response to a homeless person is to look away? That's not to claim that I know a better approach to world poverty or that I have any idea how to curb it, but it is upsetting.
Once we were on the bus, we were about 5 minutes into the ride when we met Jason. For those of you who are familiar with the television program "Jersey Shore," you may have an idea of Jason's personality. For those of you who are not familiar, just try and think of every stereotype possible for a big Italian dude from Jersey. Jason was basically the reason that people hate Americans, he was loud, he was rude, he was cursing so loud that the other cars on the road could probably hear him, he was sexist as shit, he was racist, through our conversation (conversation is a loose term, it was essentially nearly 4 hours of Jason's views on the world), we learned that he has approximately 8 children, none of whom live in Costa Rica, where he resides. However, the one positive thing that Jason contributed to our lives (possibly the one positive thing he has ever contributed...ever) was that he recommended a sweet hostel for us to stay at.
We checked into The Surfer Factory and kicked it in our room for a while with one of the employees, Chapu. It was monsuning HARD outside, like I have literally never seen rain like I saw the night we arrived in Jaco. So we waited it out with some beverages and card games in our room and then went with Chapu to a local taco shop where we dined like kings on fish tacos. After dinner we went to the common area of the hostel and hung out with lots of new friends and lots of cervezas (Imperial is the Costa Rican beer...it is wonderful). Then we hit the clubs for round 2.
This time was much improved over the last time. First of all, the music of choice was reggaeton (LOVE LOVE LOVE) versus salsa and merengue at the first club. Much easier to dance to. Secondly, it seemed less necessary to have a partner for every single song. We finished off the night with a delightful swim in the hostel's pool.
The next morning we woke up for surfing lessons with Chapu and some other surf instructors we had met the night before. Surfing is awesome, and ridiculously difficult. It is the kind of thing that I would like to do, but I also do not think I could do it by myself unless I spend the next few months doing many many MANY push ups. It's not getting up that is the challenge for me, that part is easy, but getting the board (which is bigger than me) out far enough through the waves (which are also bigger than me) is the part that I cannot seem to conquer. After surfing we were quite tired but still managed to rally for a second night out. We went to a bar right next to our hostel that had cheap Imperial and karaoke. Robin and I sang quite a few songs including one in SPANISH...by the one and only Selena (I am glad I have watched that movie an unnecessary amount of times).
On Sunday, after a swim in the ocean and a swim in the pool, we headed back to San Jose. The busride was much more relaxed sans Jason. We arrived back to rain and a delicious meal prepared by our host mom, Emilia. This week it has been a lot of school and not much else. San Jose is growing on me. It is definitely not a city that one falls in love with immediately. San Jose is a city where if you want to like it, you have to put a bit of effort in. On Tuesday I had a lovely afternoon just wandering around the central market with Kelsey, Brianna and their new roommate, Diara. In spite of the rain, which comes every afternoon without fail, Robin and I are venturing downtown this afternoon to have some sort of adventure in the thunder and rain. Until next time, pura vida!
After class on Friday we went into town to hop the bus to the beach town of Jaco, which is (theoretically) 2 hours away from San Jose (it took us about 4). On the way to the bus stop, me, Robin and our token gentleman friend Buck got a bit turned around. Getting turned around in San Jose is easy because there are no street names and often times the sidewalk just...ends. ANYWAY we got lost trying to get to our bus and were just one street over from the main street when all of the sudden we were literally stepping over people sleeping in boxes. And every other person we passed whispered "cocaine? heroin? cocaine? heroine?" I wasn't nervous about being there, because we were all together but it was quite jolting to me to just go off one street and really feel like I am in a poor, dirty, sad city. I felt uneasy with the situation, just because that is a world that I have never experienced before, I have never seen that kind of thing up close, let alone literally be walking through it.
We quickly made our way back to the main street and found the bus. Clearly our first inclination was to run away from what we were seeing, and that is the logical response. But isn't that part of the problem? That most peoples first response to a homeless person is to look away? That's not to claim that I know a better approach to world poverty or that I have any idea how to curb it, but it is upsetting.
Once we were on the bus, we were about 5 minutes into the ride when we met Jason. For those of you who are familiar with the television program "Jersey Shore," you may have an idea of Jason's personality. For those of you who are not familiar, just try and think of every stereotype possible for a big Italian dude from Jersey. Jason was basically the reason that people hate Americans, he was loud, he was rude, he was cursing so loud that the other cars on the road could probably hear him, he was sexist as shit, he was racist, through our conversation (conversation is a loose term, it was essentially nearly 4 hours of Jason's views on the world), we learned that he has approximately 8 children, none of whom live in Costa Rica, where he resides. However, the one positive thing that Jason contributed to our lives (possibly the one positive thing he has ever contributed...ever) was that he recommended a sweet hostel for us to stay at.
We checked into The Surfer Factory and kicked it in our room for a while with one of the employees, Chapu. It was monsuning HARD outside, like I have literally never seen rain like I saw the night we arrived in Jaco. So we waited it out with some beverages and card games in our room and then went with Chapu to a local taco shop where we dined like kings on fish tacos. After dinner we went to the common area of the hostel and hung out with lots of new friends and lots of cervezas (Imperial is the Costa Rican beer...it is wonderful). Then we hit the clubs for round 2.
This time was much improved over the last time. First of all, the music of choice was reggaeton (LOVE LOVE LOVE) versus salsa and merengue at the first club. Much easier to dance to. Secondly, it seemed less necessary to have a partner for every single song. We finished off the night with a delightful swim in the hostel's pool.
The next morning we woke up for surfing lessons with Chapu and some other surf instructors we had met the night before. Surfing is awesome, and ridiculously difficult. It is the kind of thing that I would like to do, but I also do not think I could do it by myself unless I spend the next few months doing many many MANY push ups. It's not getting up that is the challenge for me, that part is easy, but getting the board (which is bigger than me) out far enough through the waves (which are also bigger than me) is the part that I cannot seem to conquer. After surfing we were quite tired but still managed to rally for a second night out. We went to a bar right next to our hostel that had cheap Imperial and karaoke. Robin and I sang quite a few songs including one in SPANISH...by the one and only Selena (I am glad I have watched that movie an unnecessary amount of times).
On Sunday, after a swim in the ocean and a swim in the pool, we headed back to San Jose. The busride was much more relaxed sans Jason. We arrived back to rain and a delicious meal prepared by our host mom, Emilia. This week it has been a lot of school and not much else. San Jose is growing on me. It is definitely not a city that one falls in love with immediately. San Jose is a city where if you want to like it, you have to put a bit of effort in. On Tuesday I had a lovely afternoon just wandering around the central market with Kelsey, Brianna and their new roommate, Diara. In spite of the rain, which comes every afternoon without fail, Robin and I are venturing downtown this afternoon to have some sort of adventure in the thunder and rain. Until next time, pura vida!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
"ladies, now is not the time to exert your feminism" and other first impressions...
I will start by saying this: the blog is rather unchartered territory for me, so I will do my best. Hopefully it is entertaining, or at least not unbearable to read, and I suppose if it is you don´t have to read it.
So I arrived in San José 4 nights ago, after a lovely day of flying first class, which was everything I dreamed of and more, but this is supposed to be about Costa Rica, so I will spare you from hearing about my overwhelming feeling of joy when I sat down and was immediately greeted with champagne (I felt a bit like what I would imagine Beyonce feels like on a daily basis)
BESIDE THE POINT...
So far I have yet to really get to know San José, which I very much want to do, but with caution. My first impression of San José, via things I have been repeatedly told, not experienced, is that it is not a particularly nice place. This is a bit of a change from the mild streets of Capitol Hill (though ever so slightly rough at times, it is not at all the same). My first idea about the nature of San José came upon my arrival at my homestay, when I noticed the majority of the houses in my neighborhood are surrounded by high fences and barbed wire, and ALL have gates with multiple locks. My house for example, has a gate, which must be unlocked three times with one key, then an industrial strength padlock on the same gate, which requires a different key, and finally a third key for the door to get into the actual house. I also have a key for a lock box inside the house, to put my passport, checkbook, cash I´m not using, etc in.
However, in spite of the rather high crime rate, Costa Ricans so far are incredibly warm and welcoming and fun people. They love to dance (score) and the first phrase I have learned is "pura vida" which means pure life, but more than that, it means all is great. For example, I am in the tropics, the sun is setting, i´m with good people, I have a drink in hand, pura vida. I dig it.
In the orientation for our program, it was drilled into our heads that going anywhere alone is simply not to be done while staying in San José, especially not girls. A favorite quote from the orientation was "ladies, now is not the time to exert your feminism, allow the boys to walk you home." This points to another difference I have noticed, which is the way in which genders relate to one another. In Spanish, the masculine form of the word is always the dominant one, when there is a group of 100 women, and one man, you use the masculine form "to respect it" said my professor. In a tropical dance class I attended last night (which was AWESOME by the by, I will promptly be hitting the clubs) the instructor talked about how the man is always in charge, her exact words were that he "steers the woman...like a car." Cat calls are just a regular part of life, as is being stared at. Not like an awkward moment where you catch someone looking at you, but like STARING, like no blinking and just blatantly staring. And if you make eye contact, it does not provoke embarasment or awkwardness, but rather pick up lines. A favorite so far was "I would go to the moon and back to stare into your eyes"...smooth.
I have yet to find my "spot" in San José, a place where I can sit and read and drink coffee and do homework, so that is my project for the afternoon. That and to buy bus tickets to Jocá, a beach on the Pacific Coast where I will be spending the weekend with my amigos gringos. The weekend ahead holds surfing, a hike to a waterfall, and perhaps some cervezas. Until then, pura vida!
So I arrived in San José 4 nights ago, after a lovely day of flying first class, which was everything I dreamed of and more, but this is supposed to be about Costa Rica, so I will spare you from hearing about my overwhelming feeling of joy when I sat down and was immediately greeted with champagne (I felt a bit like what I would imagine Beyonce feels like on a daily basis)
BESIDE THE POINT...
So far I have yet to really get to know San José, which I very much want to do, but with caution. My first impression of San José, via things I have been repeatedly told, not experienced, is that it is not a particularly nice place. This is a bit of a change from the mild streets of Capitol Hill (though ever so slightly rough at times, it is not at all the same). My first idea about the nature of San José came upon my arrival at my homestay, when I noticed the majority of the houses in my neighborhood are surrounded by high fences and barbed wire, and ALL have gates with multiple locks. My house for example, has a gate, which must be unlocked three times with one key, then an industrial strength padlock on the same gate, which requires a different key, and finally a third key for the door to get into the actual house. I also have a key for a lock box inside the house, to put my passport, checkbook, cash I´m not using, etc in.
However, in spite of the rather high crime rate, Costa Ricans so far are incredibly warm and welcoming and fun people. They love to dance (score) and the first phrase I have learned is "pura vida" which means pure life, but more than that, it means all is great. For example, I am in the tropics, the sun is setting, i´m with good people, I have a drink in hand, pura vida. I dig it.
In the orientation for our program, it was drilled into our heads that going anywhere alone is simply not to be done while staying in San José, especially not girls. A favorite quote from the orientation was "ladies, now is not the time to exert your feminism, allow the boys to walk you home." This points to another difference I have noticed, which is the way in which genders relate to one another. In Spanish, the masculine form of the word is always the dominant one, when there is a group of 100 women, and one man, you use the masculine form "to respect it" said my professor. In a tropical dance class I attended last night (which was AWESOME by the by, I will promptly be hitting the clubs) the instructor talked about how the man is always in charge, her exact words were that he "steers the woman...like a car." Cat calls are just a regular part of life, as is being stared at. Not like an awkward moment where you catch someone looking at you, but like STARING, like no blinking and just blatantly staring. And if you make eye contact, it does not provoke embarasment or awkwardness, but rather pick up lines. A favorite so far was "I would go to the moon and back to stare into your eyes"...smooth.
I have yet to find my "spot" in San José, a place where I can sit and read and drink coffee and do homework, so that is my project for the afternoon. That and to buy bus tickets to Jocá, a beach on the Pacific Coast where I will be spending the weekend with my amigos gringos. The weekend ahead holds surfing, a hike to a waterfall, and perhaps some cervezas. Until then, pura vida!
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