A change in lifestyle

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Not sure what to make of my new situation. I will be taking classes in the afternoon as it is better suited to my level of Spanish. They tired to stick me in a class where I would be learning the past for the 3rd time, I was quick to squash that. Quepos is much more touristy than I expected, but it is also full of locals so I think it will be all right. I really like my family so far so that is good. I have internet at the school so all is not lost. However I don' know how often I will want to lug my laptop to school and back, especially if I go to the beach before class😊 since I have until 1 PM every day to get to school. Below is an entry I wrote last night as I reflected on my first month here in Costa Rica. It is a bit different than any of my other posts so I hope you enjoy.

A CONFESSION TO MAKE:

As I sit here in my spacious queen sized bed smack dab in the middle of Quepos, I found myself asking, what am I going to do to occupy myself for the next two weeks now that I don’t have internet or a book to read? I was spoiled in Santo Domingo to have a solid WI-FI connection that enabled me to barricade myself in my room all night long watching soccer, football and YouTube while skype-ing home and wasting time on Facebook. But here I don’t have that luxury, or should I say hindrance? And I’ve already finished the 3 books I brought along on the trip. So unless I find an English bookstore in town I might just have to try my hand at reading a book in Spanish. Would that really be so bad?

What has my life come to? I am in Costa Rica living the Pura Vida and I’m worried about being bored because I can’t constrain myself to my room here? I feel like I may have missed a golden opportunity in Santo Domingo by being reclusive and hiding in my room all day once I got home from school. Internet and a great book were partly to blame but hey, I’m here to practice Spanish right? No excuses, I need to grow a pair and not be afraid to mess up. Of course I’m not going to speak perfect Spanish and they know that! They are hosting me through the school. They know I am here to learn and both families I have stayed with now were surprised at how good my Spanish was to begin with! Sometimes they get students who come with little or no previous Spanish skills and they really don’t have much to say to one another.

My experience here is going to be very different than any of my previous ones and that I know for certain. Quepos is a mix between being very touristy (it is the closest town to the number one tourist attraction in the country, Manuel Antonio National Park lies 5 miles down the road), and full of locals like the family I am living with. Here I will only be taking class for 4 hours a day, not the 6 I grew weary of in Santo Domingo. That means that I get done at noon every day and have the afternoons free. In SD I got home at 4:30 every day and didn’t want to do anything except sleep or get online.

My host family here is very different as well. I am the 7th member of the household, joining an already robust family. There is the mother and father (who is 10+ years her junior…), the grandmother (I think she is the mother of the mother, but not sure), the daughter who is 20, her boyfriend/husband I am not sure, and their two-year-old kid. A big house indeed. I am most excited by the prospects of communicating with the grandmother (her accent is hard for me and she talks fast but I think I can overcome that with time!) and the baby, as he doesn’t yet speak much and is probably around the same skill as me when it comes to Spanish. Tonight after dinner I sat down and watched some children’s programming with him. They had the Curious George cartoon in Spanish and I was able to understand at least 50%!o(MISSING)f what they were saying! I am as smart at a 2-year-old yea!

I have a few pitfalls to avoid while here, mainly the beach and the American bar. They beach is going to be very tempting, as the hot weather and ample free time are going to be nagging at my conscious to hit the water and catch some rays, but I hope to limit myself to a healthy dose of relaxation. The bar reminds me a lot of Tamarindo and Sharky’s except the crowd is a bit stranger. There seems to be a group of expats who all congregate there and the barkeep is from the South, or so his drawl would suggest. I admit it was fun watching some football there today while sipping a beer but I can’t make a habit out of it that is for sure.

The whole reason I began this post was because I was reflecting on the fact that I’ve been here a month and I’m almost halfway done. I was thinking over a few of the subtler moments I’ve had that haven’t yet been shared on the blog. So far I have really only been keeping an online diary of what I do each week, and while I’m sure this appeases most of you, it seems like it might be getting a little boring. I need stories, or deeper experiences which, although must occur first in real life, should bring about some smiles and feelings of warmth inside the readers. I will be the first to admit that my writing skills are not the best in the world. I wish I could write blog entries as exhilarating as some of my friends, but I am just going to try the best I can and you can take it or leave it.

I really only have two stories to tell, both of which occurred last week during walks home from school in Santo Domingo, but I also want to reflect on the Costa Rican people as a whole. I hope the stories, or at least one of them, will help to reaffirm my philosophy that the Ticos are much happier than Americans will ever be, even though their lives are much the same, and in many cases could be judged as worse off.

I think it was Thursday afternoon as I was walking home from school, I began to approach a driveway occupied by an elderly looking man. He looked more European than most Ticos, although that really has nothing to do with the story except that I thought he might speak some English. Instead as I approached his driveway (there are no real sidewalks so as you walk along the road you will get honked at and have to give way to the cars by going onto people’s driveways) he began shouting at me in Spanish. I had no idea what he was saying. He began pointing at the grass / storm drain that lined the street and I kept saying, ¿qué? (what?). He slowed down a little but I still didn’t understand much of what he was saying. “Lo siento Señor, pero no entiendo” I exclaimed. “No sé esa palabra” (I don’t know that word). He had been repeating the same word over and over for 10 seconds. “Serpiente” (snake) he shouted. And I had an ahah moment. He was either trying to a) warn me that there was a snake in the grass along the side of the road or b) he was asking if I had seen his snake and could tell him where it was. I replied, in Spanish of course, that I was not fond of snakes and hoped not to encounter one on the rest of my journey. He mumbled something and began walking towards where I had come from, shaking his arm at the grass and looking like a crazy old hoot. What is the morale of this story? I’m not sure. But it was one of the few interactions I have had with locals outside of a shopping or dining experience (sadly money seems to break all barriers) and to me it was memorable.

The next story I have is not really a story but an observation that for some inexplicable reason brought tears to my eyes the moment it happened. It again occurred on the walk home from school. I was only a half a block from school when I passed by a house and out on the patio, a young boy, perhaps 2 years of age, was dancing to music coming from inside, either the TV or the radio, I couldn’t tell. He had the biggest grin on his face as he stretched his arms out and began spinning and weaving like he was doing his best impersonation of an airplane, while emitting the half-laugh giggles typical of his age group. It made me sad that this was all occurring behind a fenced in patio (this was Santo Domingo after all and no one lacked iron bars around their property!), but what made me cry from joy, was that this boy was having such pure fun, with only himself and some music. Oh, and the song was “We speak no Americano.” I’m not sure how many of you know about this song but I would be highly surprised if you are under the age of 30 and haven’t heard it. I was first introduced to it by my friend Micah on my birthright trip. He was a big fan and assured us that this song was for real. I than began to hear it everywhere I went, in Israel, Egypt, and back home in the states. I knew it was for real when I heard it in Costa Rica, and all my European friends were singing along as well. This one song, more than any other I have ever seen (except Michael Jackson songs) had spread the world so fast and so thoroughly. Technology is a godsend, no? To hammer home how big this song is, later in the week when I was watching the news at dinner with my host family, there was a report on the song. I don’t remember much about what they were saying, except that the song is awesome and everyone knows it. The host dad was singing along, however the wife seemed out of the loop. So what is the message here? I don’t know, be happy with the simple things in life? I wish I could still have innocent fun like little kids but I increasingly find it harder and harder to do, and find myself needing some combination of friends, inebriants, and personalities for this to occur. There are two exceptions I can think of right now, being out on the water in a boat or watching soccer. I can be sober and alone doing those two things and I will be the happiest person alive, however company does seem to have a multiplier effect on the happiness quotient.

That is all for now. Thanks for listening my rant-ish posting. I hope you enjoyed it or at least found it entertaining. If anyone wants a postcard let me know, and provide me with an address. I bought a few and would love to send them out. Best way to get ahold of me is through a Facebook message or e-mail . I will hopefully have internet access at school so I can receive your love! Take care.

-Matt

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