Week 1: First impressions and La Festival Politico

Upon arrival in Costa Rica I was nervous, but not entirely overwhelmed. As I passed through customs and looked for my program director I started to get anxious, but I found them quickly and the feeling passed. My flight lasted approximately 10 hours give or take. So I was exhausted and sore from the awkward position which I found myself in for much of the day.
Once my director and I were in a taxi and on our way I was told that I would be taken directly to my host family's home. As you can imagine, it was as if my stomach was unsuccessfully attempting a trapeze act. When we pulled up I stopped and looked up and down the street. Doors, windows, and if fortunate enough, garages, were protected by iron bars resembling those of jail cells. The nicer homes added to their fortress by placing barbed wire along the tops of the iron. As if this were not enough, ADT signs were there placed in clear view so as to persuade any unwelcome visitors to look elsewhere. The homes on our street are decorated in yellows, oranges, pinks, reds, and greens. It looked a lot like a seven year old girl randomly assigned her favorite colors to them neglecting to color between the lines as there is not so much as a millimeter between the walls of one home and those of another. My home, however, is in a word darling. It is white with a green roof trimmed in red. The iron shafts that keep the other homes prisoner decorate our doors in delicate decoration. They create diamonds and in a few places curves to add character to what would be the most darling little cottage if removed from its current environment. The perimeter is lined with flowers and plants flashing reds, purples, and greens.
When my host mother or "Mama Tica" opened the door she greeted me with a hug and a kiss on my right cheek. I breathed for a moment and looked up the stairs to see Sarah, a familiar face, who willing helped me carry my luggage up the stairs where I unpacked. I felt like I belonged in only a matter of hours as we sat down to our first dinner together, spaghetti!
The first week was difficult as my body struggled with learning a new language, eating new foods, altering sleeping patterns, and generally engaging my environment. Classes are long, 4 hours to be exact of Spanish. After class, in the street, in restaurants and markets, at home, and on the TV it is Spanish, Spanish, SPANISH! Can you imagine m frustration? I arrive having literally one semester of the native language and all that my senses receive sounds like a headache. Luckily, I have a terrific host mother, a delightful professor, Tatiana, and the most patient natives and peers that one could pray for.
By Friday, what sounded like a 1 year old blubbering at the table had become actual sentences. Clear sentences (in strictly the present and future tenses of course!). Its like your brain becomes flexible again, you just become a sponge. You have to in order to ensure you receive correct change, or your omelet without cheese, or the correct time and dates for events.
It isn't a perfect science and by no means do I claim to speak Spanish even remotely well, but I can understand much more than I could have ever expected within such a short period. The brain fascinates me in that I could understand and write nearly any thought or phrase far before I could speak it. This is frustrating as I continue to struggle with this issue. Then again, there are numerous times when I couldn't understand if you replayed the exact moment for me ten times. Language learning, culture learning are always works in progress.

On another note, this weekend was the presidential election here in Costa Rica. I don't know why assumed most election were as they are in the United States. They are far from. It was a rare peak into the core of a cultures political being. Sarah, numerous other friends, and I picked our favorite candidates and decided to go for it. We walked down to San Jose Centro (downtown) and engaged the Ticos in what turned out to be a monumental celebration. We asked a man that we met if we could buy a flag for Laura (our candidate of choice) and he told us just to wait for 20 minutes. So, a bit bewildered we waited. Finally he handed us flags and people lined the streets holding signs, wearing shirts and hats, and waving flags yielding green and white. Voices screaming "Laura! Laura!" and (translated) "You hear it! You feel it! Laura for president!" (Only in Spanish its a lot more catchy). It was invigorating to see the people of Costa Rica so engaged in their environment. So patriotic. So passionate. I could and still cannot help but compare this display to the events leading up to election day in the United States. I love my country, but we have it wrong. The Ticos stood on that street some screaming and wielding flags for Laura and some for other candidates, but they laughed and made jokes. They supported one another they were united even when the colors didn't match. These people know what it means to reach across the table. Having grown up in a world where all we are taught is competition, the importance of the individual winning no matter the cost, I was in awe. I stood there waving my flag, holding my end of a giant banner, smiling.
The next day was election day. Sarah traveled around the country to check out what was happening outside the city while I remained in San Jose. I walked about 30 minutes to the nearest polling place and stood around asking people questions (probably frustrating them with a constant "could you speak more slowly" or "could you repeat that") it was an interesting experience. Later that night people filled the bars and restaurants to watch the Superbowl. Of course the Colts should have won, but I will leave it at that. Anyway, after saluting our United States a group of four international students including myself traveled back to San Jose Centro. The streets in the city park were packed with people. There was a large projector and small children riding unicycles. It was lovely. That night, last night, Laura made history as the first female president of Costa Rica. She is only the fifth in the Americas.

Insert Heather's Political Opinion: What does this say about our United States? A place of equality? I think not. Shouldn't we be the first to have a black president? a female president? a muslim president? a jewish president? a homosexual president? Shouldn't we? Costa Rica's democracy is in its infancy at 60 years of age. How old are we? Approximately 200 give or take? Why are we just now getting it?

Anyway, I know you don't care for my political rants, but it is something to chew on. In general, I am well. My body is beginning to adjust though I am still waking up at 5:30 am and getting tired rather early I do not find it necessary (at least not today) to nap in the middle of the day. The water is fine, drink it! (I am currently) There is more rice and beans in this place than you could ever imagine and my Mama Tica cooks extensive meals. I met a man who swears himself a wizard, my laundry gets done once a week and most the time I get a hot shower. Oh yeah lets not forget, I have yet to go out dancing though I enjoy my dance class and I am currently sporting the worst sunburn that I have had in my whole life. On top of that, I find trying not to get burnt when you are currently burnt is impossible. There is not enough SPF in the world to protect you if your skin is as transparent as mine and you intend on frolicking near the equator. Finally, I promise there will be pictures, but Julia is the photographer of the group and until she posts them...well we are both out of luck. I know, mom, I know I will start carrying my own camera, its just so inconvenient.


Un Abrazo! (a hug)