Experience Choices With an S.

Today after class, a bunch of us went to downtown San Jose to do a language exchange with some Spanish speaking students who are learning English. This is said to be a great opportunity to both learn and give help to those in need. Olger, our teacher, lead the group onto the appropriate bus and into the school where student go to learn English. Olger is our teacher at ILISA, and he is also a teacher at the school we’re going, which is a branch of ILISA only by a different name that escapes my memory. Usually Olger does not speak English to us, because the curriculum forbids it, as it will help us learn quicker, but today, after class, he was talking up an English storm. That may have been the most comma’s I’ve ever used in once sentence. I hope I used them well enough for them to not be considered accomplices in a run-on-sentence; I’m sure Bridget will let me know if it is. The class in which I was “exchanging” was being taught by my conversation teacher, Jorge. He is also the teacher that Christa and I are developing a large crush on (he has the cutest accent when he speaks in English). Regardless, Jorge had me and two other ILISA students helping small groups of three with their English homework. To us, this work is simple. Things we would have learned in 4th or 5th grade, but to them, it is very difficult. It was both interesting and relieving to find that there are other people in the world that are struggling with a new language. That shit is fucking hard! Here in this class, we began to talk about the word sense and all of its different conjugations i.e. sensible, sensitive, senses, sense, sensation, etc. We came to sensitive issues when Jorge asked the class what they think are sensitive issues and are difficult to talk about. Most of the class responded with things like, religion, politics, and sex. But one student responded with sexual orientation. This is a sensitive issue for me, but only when I sense a feeling of animosity towards the subject. I felt that animosity in this class room and I quickly became very uncomfortable. Most of class agreed that it isn’t a big deal, but there were a few students that felt very strongly for the other hand. I’ve been asked to go back, but I don’t know if I want to. None of the students in that class room know that I’m gay, except maybe the one’s that I arrived with, but even still, it is scary. Apparently it is even more frowned upon to be a homosexual in Costa Rica, than it is in Utah in the heart of an LDS family. I suddenly feel significantly less safe...

On another, more enjoyable note, Jeff and I were sure that we finally knew our way from our casa tika to downtown San Pedro. And, in spite our last attempt, we accomplished just what we set out to do. It took us about 2 hours to walk to school today, what with all the stop go to look in the different shops on the way. At times, I felt as though my body would poop out on me; I’ve been feeling extremely beat these last 2 days. For the longest time I could not figure out why, but after analyzing which muscles gave me discomfort, I came to the conclusion that it was from all the swing dancing Shay and I had been doing on Saturday. She and I started just for a laugh when we were in Punta Leona, but as she began to feel stronger about how “naturally good” I am at the swinging, we began to do more difficult moves. I was literally throwing her about my body, just as one imagines when picturing partners swinging. Needless to say, there are few sore spots on my body. But honestly, I’m really excited to keep learning. I promised to go to the Union Station on Wednesdays with her when we get back; they’re swing dance nights in Ogden. This means I’ll have to pull out the Zuka suit and the Bengay.

That is all for now, but stay in touch. Loves and such from Costa Rica!


Xoxoxo
Derek.

A Little Rain Never Hurt Anyone.

Punta Leona is a nice resort on the Pacific side of the country; A well branded establishment known for its private beach, 3 pools, and a miniature golf course. In addition to the natural wildlife, the not-so- natural butter fly exhibit, and the beautiful sky-scraping jungle trees, there is a mountain side of hotel rooms. Chelsea’s hotel room began the adventures, but mine apparently ended them. Between rooms, there was swimming, volleyball, karaoke, and a lot of fucking dancing. I mean a lot. We started playing volley ball after the beach burned me out. I don’t love the beach. There is a lot of salt in my eyes, a lot of violent water in my noise, and too damn much sand in my vagina. The volley was really getting good when it began to rain, but the weather here is so hot all the time (so is the water), that the rain was treated as an invited guest. We played until we couldn’t see any longer. The water soaked us so much, that an awesome pool sess was in session. After the pool, we ran back to our rooms to throw on some clothes, fill our bellies with the all you can eat buffet in the restaurant, then back to the party. Near the bar, there was some Karaoke. I was so down to do a song, but they were all in Spanish, and I can’t just pretend to know a song, not even in English. The drunk happened again. Thank god. Which means so did the dancing. The night was good. But it was hardly done. I thought it was nearly finished when we started walking back to our hotel room singing different drunken songs at the top of our lungs, but all of a sudden we found a special, secrete, hidden pool that spoke to us as if a river of sirens were calling our names. Chelsea, McKenna, and I all jumped in and continued our intoxicated ramblings of music. We also decided that we’re the world’s first underwater band. You might be asking yourself, “What t eff is an underwater band?” Well, it is very simple, Reader. It is basically just pantomiming instruments, but also making the noises, all while underwater.

After the pool, I returned to my hotel room to find a band of Weber State University misfits were having their ridiculously boring conversation in my bed. That was no good, but I didn’t want to be rude so I pulled up a chair. I got really sick of them, so I pretend to fall asleep. They soon realized that they were depriving me of my soft pillows with a need to elevate their feet, and within minutes, they left. Best. Plan. Ever. As soon as they did, I took a really nice shower, followed by a really quick doze into slumber land. 6 hours later I awoke to the thought of missing the free breakfast. I threw on my flops and was out the door! The beach seems so appealing on TV, but honestly in practice, it is significantly less satisfying. I learned this the hard way. It took us 30 minutes to get to the good beach, and it took me 30 minutes to correct that mistake. But correcting it was a very good decision. The pools at this resort are wonderful. And I definitely spent the better part of today in it. If it weren’t for the shitty restaurant service (40-50 minutes were wasted waiting for a plate of fries), this resort could be my new best friend. The day grew longer and the sun began to drop. The time to leave the resort was upon us when I decided that there needed to be more volley in the mix. And so it was. The bus ride home was a sandy one, but I made a new friend, so I didn’t mind all the sand. She is different from all the other new friends I’ve made because I met her so late in the trip. Everyone else has been on the same page since almost day one.

I’m missing home. I love my family and all the things they do. But honestly, what I’m missing most is a block of cheese, and my Monkee. And you cannot forget a delicious burrito (red sauce) from Del Taco. I suppose I’m weird for not getting separation anxiety from my real home. I like it there, and some days it is just where I need to be, but for now, I’m content. You will all be happy to know that I put a bunch of pictures on the wall where I rest my head. So if I love you, you’re not forgotten. Keep in touch, friends.

Write me on facebook. I don’t get to be on a computer for very long, and I usually only have time to respond, but I would love to hear from you. Also, don’t write me a message because for some reason I cannot check my inbox on the Faus Buk. However, if you feel I should, I can start checking my Yahoo account. Derekrulz@yahoo is where you can write me there.


Loves,
Derekita.

XOXOXO

Terra U

Last night we all made a plan to go to the bar that Chelsea and Christa found on accident. They said that
it was a fun, happening place, so the rest of us were all on board. Lindsey, who is a member of the family
we are staying with, came with Jeff and me in addition to Caitlyn (sheís also in the WSU group). We
arrived, and we quickly found that Chelsea and Christa were rightóit was a fun, happening place. The
beer was a bit cheaper than the bar Jeff and I went to the other day, Jazz CafÈ (The Jazz cafÈ was a bar
we also all made plans to go to, but no one showed up except 2 other girls from the program. We paid
to get inside, when everyone else decided it was too expensive and found last nightís bar, Terra U). One
by one, different people we knew would show up, all girls and all permitted upstairs. We donít know
why, but us men were not allowed upstairs. We didnít even know what secrets the level contained. That
made it easier, I suppose, but as soon as we learned that ladies drink for free up there, then I got really
sour. What was super bull shit was that as soon as the girls went upstairs, they never came back down. I
should not have let that ruin my night, but it did. I was really upset to hear that when asked to join us
again down stairs, they would say things like, ìItís your fault for being a boy.î Maybe Iím over reacting,
but that shit is rude. Iím not incredibly impressed with my friends at this point.

We went to the movies a few days ago because everyone kept saying, ìDos para uno!î which means 2
for 1 movie prices. We were really looking forward to some Spanish cinema for a really good priceó
turns out that it was American cinema with Spanish subtitles at regular prices. That was stupid. We saw
Piratas Del Caribe. Iíve already seen this Pirates Movie installment, so I was not too incredibly impressed
with it a second timeÖ I barely even bothered reading the subtitles.

Jeff and I have been keeping a really good eye on our surroundings so we never get lost again. You
would think keeping an eye on things would keep us also from getting into pirate taxiís, but it doesnít.
After the bar last night, Jeff was persuaded to get into a non licensed cab, and was ready to accept that.
Lindsey and I were not going along with such a silly idea and we pulled him out and found another. Iím
getting really good at getting us all home in one piece each. Learning things like, ìCurridabat La Lia, por
favor.î That is our neighborhood. I can direct the driver left, right, and gaily forward, in addition to
inquiring about the condition of the meter. It is really easy to get swindled in taxiís here.

Classes are still going well, but it definitely sucks not having a book. I have to do it early in the morning
or before leaving the school and I have to use other peopleís books. So far theyíve all been really ok with
letting me borrow them. The lectures are usually boring, and sometimes really hard to not fall asleep.
The work isnít difficult, but the concept is usually a bit tricky to grasp. If one doesnít speak Spanish, and
theyíre trying to explain things in Spanish, one doesnít understand the concept being explained.
Sometimes I just want to yell at the teachers, ìShut the hell up with your Spanish bull shit!!!î I never do,
I just want to.

Tomorrow weíre going to Punta Leona. Iíll let you know how it is. :D

Derek Williamson

XOXOXO

A Little More.

Jeff and I decided that we were familiar enough with the city to find our way to not only the school, but also all the local sights on the way. We wanted to be more familiar with the city. It turns out that we are not in San Jose. We’re in San Pedro. It is like the Harrisville to Ogden, or the Ogden to Salt Lake City. It’s a big city still, just not nearly as big as San Jose.

Let me start over. Jeff and I thought we were familiar enough with San Pedro to allow ourselves to find the destinations we sought. Turns out we were wrong. We got turned around somehow and were somewhere that was not where we thought we were. We didn’t feel unsafe, though. We figured that if we just walked in a constant direction for long enough, we’d eventually find our way. Again, wrong. We did however find that if we took a bus to the mall, we would be at the mall. So we did. This was a much better option than taking a Taxi, as it saved us close to 4 dollars.

Classes are going well. They aren’t incredibly different from the classes at Weber State University, which is good. I was expecting something much more difficult. The best part is, our conversation class instructor is super gorgeous. He’s got a really good but that Christa and I have a great appreciation for. There are about 9 people in our class and we’re all getting to know each other really well. Even making friends in other classes during lunch time and outside the school altogether. After class, Jeff and I came home to a delicious meal of “sopa calabaza” (pumpkin soup,) and asparagus quesadillas. De. Lic. I. Ous. Our momma tika is a very good cook. After dinner, Jeff and I got drunk in our bedroom with a bottle we picked up after school at the local market. It was amazingly hilarious. We had a very deep conversation and we got to know each other. I’m really grateful that I like my roommate. Not only do I enjoy spending time with him, but he becoming a really good friend. That’s all for tonight, even though this was last night. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have more time to write and keep you all updated on Wednesday and the current day.

After classes, a bunch of us went to the movies. We figured that because it was 2 for 1 night, we could get a good cultural experience for a little price. Wrong.

Just so you all know, it is very difficult for me to keep up on my posts. For this, I apologize. My house that I'm staying at doesn't have internet, so it is exretemely difficult to get on the computer and write. I'm going to try my hardest to keep you all updated. This weekend, tomorrow actually, Saturday, we're going to Punta Leona. It is a resort or something on the Pacific coast. I'm really excited. It will be a blast! Have fun wherever you are.

XOXO

Where We Left Off

After finding that we wanted to take a few more pictures of the natural beauty of this immaculate town, we ended up swimming in the black sand water again. This beach is called Playa Negra and is actually where we began our beach adventure. In the water, there is an old, rusted, beached barge that is home to many creepy crabs. Swimming in the water gave us the brilliant idea to do handstands. They’re always much more fun with the stability of like-weightlessness. Chelsea and I both dunked our heads under, reaching for the sand that once surrounded our feet. The sand was, up to this point, very soft to the touch, very malleable, and very kind. I had no reason to expect that to change. As soon as my left hand hit the sand, it was as I had expected. But the moment my right hand hit, there was a shiver of fear that went up my spine. Even though my eyes were closed, I could still see what I had touched. It was one of the creepy crabs from the rustic barge. It clamped its claw onto my thumb in a panicked reaction. I must have disturbed his sleep and startled him. My panicked reaction was much less angry, and far more frightful. I did my best to scream, but the sound was muffled by the water and was not carried to the surface with the bubbles I produced. I instantly came back to air, trying to hold my composure. At this point, composure was not my strong suit. I waded in the water, both trying not to touch the ground and get Chelsea’s attention. She needed to know the scary secrets the black sand contains. As soon as she declared her factory, I explained what happened. In a mixture of fright and hilarity, we ran out of the water in a giggle. She heard my scream and assumed that I was mad that I did a poor hand stand. We basically Bay-Watched (verb) the fuck out of the water, got our shit, and left.

We spent the rest of the days on the streets talking with local vendors, perusing their homemade and tourist inspired souvenirs, buying a few trinkets here and there, but mostly ignoring the offer of weed and other drugs. Apparently Puerto Viejo invented hipster. You thought you knew hipster before? Well, in comparison, you’ve probably never heard the real meaning of the word. This town is extremely laid back. Maybe that is due to the peace and tranquility the atmosphere provides, or maybe it has to do with the amount of weed the kids are slinging on the streets from their little brother’s pocket on their little brother’s bike.
As any good smoker knows, the best weed is followed by food. And while we saved our Colones (CR Currency) on the weed part of the night, some food was still in order. I forget the name of the restaurant, but the food was amazing and their drinks nothing short of strong. Not to mention we got happy hour prices! One drink leads to another, and the next thing you know, we’re in three different bars at once. Some have dancing, some have Futbol, and others have hoolahoops in the road. Where there are hoolahoops, there are also free drinks for those awesome people who adhere to general dress codes. Basically, free drinks if you weren’t wearing a shirt. I dropped that thing like it was my prom dress on prom night. And yes, free drinks are equal to losing your virginity in a budget hotel; maybe less romantic, but also less painful.

After crashing in our hotel room at about 2 in the morning, we set an alarm for 6 hours later. I fucking hate mornings. We had one hour to pack, get breakfast, and catch a bus. Easy peasy, lemon squizy. The bus ride back to San Jose was just as gut-wrenching as the bus out of San Jose. This time I remembered to take my Dramamine before riding... It didn’t help. The only thing I could do to keep from hurling chunks was sleep. So I did; I slept most of the way. But as soon as we were in San Jose, it was time to find our school. ILISA School of language. The taxi’s had a hard time finding it, but we made it there eventually. The doors to the school were locked, and there was no way of getting a hold of the director of the program who told us to be there at the exact time we arrived. Luckily, there was a nice Spanish speaking security guard that understood enough English to make a phone call for us. PURA VIDA!

I met my familia tiko today. They, of course, are my Costa Rican family. Mama, Papa, Aldofo, Lindsey, Sebastian?, Douglass, Camilla, Ian, Nick, y Vivian. The house is essentially Everybody Loves Raymond: Two or three families living under two connected roofs. It is really cool. Everyone is very nice and I’m already learning a lot.

We began with a tour, with lead to food. I love food and I was starving, so it could not have come at a better time. The banana I tried to eat earlier was just not a good mix with vom sensation. She made me a delicious salad with a shit ton of vegetables, as well as Casado (Rice and Beans). It was very good. Not two hours passed before she fed me again. I didn’t want to be rude and decline the food, and it also looked very good so I wanted to try the potato soup she prepared. I was right, it was muy racism! After dinner, Lindsey and I went to a local pub. She actually is part of the family by marriage, and comes from English speaking North Carolina. She’s incredibly helpful and very nice. I felt bad because I felt like I was doing too much talking. I was just so overwhelmed with all the experiences I’ve been having that she is my only non- Chelsea, English speaking outlet. And that leads us to here. I’m in my bed now, parallel to the bed of my sleeping roommate. His name is Jeff. He’s pretty cool, I guess. So far I like him. We actually met once at a party. He was very drunk, which means he was very hilarious. His snores make me want to sleep too. So I think I’ll do just that. Que tenga una noche Buena!

To Be Continued...

Puerto Viejo is amazing. We woke up a little hung over yesterday, but nothing a little water/coffee/fruit cannot fix. It's very unfortunate. This place gives me the shits. I pooped 4 times before noon yesterday. But I refuse to let that get in the way of my adventure!

We spent the better part of the day on the beach. The ocean and jungles here are beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous. We walked the coast and found several beaches that were to our liking. We played in the water, jumping and punching waves, and just having a fun time swimming. After the beach, we walked barefoot to our lunch. It was thin crust Costa Rican pizza. Not very good... But not very expensive, either!

There is a shit ton more to come, so I'll be editing this very post in a few hours. I just wanted to get a few thoughts down right now.

Pura Vida!



Stay tuned.

2 for 1

We went to sleep early last night. We had the idea that spending all day on a plane had exhausted all of our energy. While that was true, going to sleep at 5 pm was not the best idea. A good sleep on a great plane makes up for a lot of energy loss. I had a difficult time staying asleep. I slept, but only for a few hours at a time. The heat definitely got to me. I would continuously wake up in a dry sweat ready for an adventure of some sort. That adventure eventually turned into watching the rest of The Terminal. Chelsea and I began watching it on our wait for the Atlanta plane. I'd never seen the movie all the way through. I laughed. A lot. I hope I didn't make her stir too much.

After waking up at about 7:40, we quickly prepared ourselves for our first Costa Rican breakfast. Sadly, it was a disappointment. It consisted in eggs and toast. Any person could order the same plate in any American Diner. But not to worry, the day was young. And we had a bit of exploring to do before our bus took us to the Caribbean side of the country. After making a few toiletry purchases in a local "tienda," we made our way back to our hotel. Because The Hotel Inca Real is in the heart of San Jose, there are plenty of security measures. For instance, there was a metal gate at the entrance to the structure with an electronic opening mechanism. After the store, we found ourselves locked outside the metal gate. No one around to buzz us in. This was especially frustrating considering our bus was scheduled to leave not 20 minutes after discovering our dilemma. Eventually, after much yelling, in both English, Spanish, and Physical gestures and noises, a Maid-of-sorts came to our rescue.

After finally getting to the bus station, still on time for our 10 a.m. bus, we find that it is full and we have to wait for the 12 p.m. Bull shit. Fuck that. We wait despite our prostest. In an attempt to kill time, we both read and explore the bus station, as it is filled with many little gift shops. I bought a Ben 10 watch, but Chelsea just looked around. As the time passed, I couldn't help getting more and more enthralled with the book I picked by it's cover. Grave Surprise. I forget the author, Bridget will know, but I forget. And while it is just on the bed next to the one Chelsea and I are resting, but as you can tell, I am far to lazy. I suppose the drunk is to blame. Oh, by the way, the bus took us to a town on the Caribbean side called, " Puerta Viejo." This translates to Old Port, not too dissimilar to New Port. Regardless of its meaning, we are having a blast. Much less scary and confusing than San Jose. I wish our School was here. The language barrier is minuscule in comparison. The tree's, ocean, and general scenery is much more better.

We checked into our awesomely beach-like hotel called Casa Verde (Green House). This place resembles the Swiss Family Robinson's interpretation of a good nights sleep in this day and age. The beds are a different bread, and Chelsea feels confident that her sleep will be infinitely better than the last. I fear the beer tower she made will disturb us in our slumber. That won't be very conducive to our sleep, but as they say, "When in Rome, build a tower of beer. Local beer." We had dinner at a restaurant called Stahus: it proved very difficult to find considering it recently changed its name from El Loco Natural. We wandered the streets in search of a lost name. Luckily an English speaking German lady was kind enough to help. God bless Germany. I ordered vegetarian tacos, and Chelsea sea bass shit. Both delicious in our respected opinions. I also ordered a beer called Imperial. It is brewed here in Costa Rica. Delicious. It is the equivalent to Bud. Considering the amount of dark beer that I've ingested lately, simple and delicious is refreshing.

After our confusing predicament of the bill (we didn't know what the hell we were supposed to do; we were Costa Rican restaurant virgins,) we searched the streets for our longed intoxication. We deserve a good drunk; navigating a foreign country isn't easy. We found a Cantina with all-night-Happy-Hour. Best. Invention. Ever. Our buzz led to the purchase of a small bottle of local rum. Which, in turn, led to our underwater secrets in the (possibly) closed hotel pool. Our relationship is strong. And it is only getting stronger. I love this girl very much. We're sitting here, on her bed; she gets the bigger bed because I got the last one. I'm going to stop writing now, she's growing sleepy. A drunk, sleepy Chelsea is not as much fun as a giggly, drunk Chelsea.

Again,
Derek Williamson

XOXOXOXO

Not Till the Sky. Again.

Well, here we are. San Jose, Costa Rica. Chelsea and I caught the Red Eye flight out of SLC to Atlanta after I rode the Front Runner down to SLC. We began our international trek as soon as her TBS concert was complete. Being all sweaty for a flight out of the country was not her most brilliant move, but she made it none the less. We just barely made it on that flight. You see, we are flying standby and it is all about what is available. And because we were at the bottom of the list, it was a great possibility that we would spend many hours in the airport. Luckily, that was not the case. It was confusing, but we finally got our seats. Unfortunately we did not sit next to each other, instead we were a few seats apart and on different rows. She appeared to be sleeping the entire way, but I couldn’t get a single dream in. I sat in between a man who may have been dead (he didn’t move the entire flight) and a lady who moved like her seat was burning her ass. It was annoying. I hate middle seats.

As soon as we landed in Atlanta, we were on a quest to find our gate for our connection to Costa Rica. We found a weird in-port train that took us just a few gates away from ours. Once at the right gate, we just waited until something happened. Luckily, the list of Standby flyers was lower for this flight. After taking a little terminal nap on a few connected seats, we awoke to the sound of our names being called. It was the Delta man and he wanted to approve our travels. When the plane finally began to board, we were confused on where we were to sit. Turns out, we got first class. I’ve never been so excited to fly. We were quickly greeted with a mimosa, a little pillow, and a collection of comical flight attendants.

The second flight was a much more smooth process. I decided to take some Dramamine for my restless tummy that kept shifting and contorting on the trip before. It probably would have worked better had I not participated in the complimentary booze. The take off was just as frightening as the first, except this time I was ready for what was to come, and knew what to expect. I didn’t have to repeat to myself, “You know why? Because I had my training table up, and my seat back in its full, upright position,” or “Destination. Determination. Deliberation.” I like to think that those two phrases help fearful flyers survive.

With the luxury of first class at our hands, sleeping was no feat this time. I slept through most of it and only woke to eat he delicious pasta dinner they placed in front of me. First class kicks ass! What was (is) a challenge, however, is San Jose. It is scary here. The taxi driver was trying his hardest to communicate with us, but he eventually gave up and turned on the radio. The bank tellers are even more confusing. “Mas poquito colones, por favor.” This is the phrase used to get smaller bills. Learning!

Well, I’m exhausted. I feel as though there has been too much flying for one day. It’s good I don’t still have the trace on me otherwise the ministry would be pissed. Sleep well, America. And I’ll try to do the same.

As always,
Derek Williamson
XOXOXO

Falling Apart or Coming Together.

It was my brilliant idea to wait until the day I leave to pack. This way I can wash all the clothes I've worn over the week and put them in my zipped bag. Bad idea. We're out of laundry detergent. Who's idea was this??? I'm terrified I'm going to forget something. Something big like my passport, flight bullshit, or my insanity. Who ever invented packing is a dick.

I've spent some time with some of the people that are important to me (definitely not all of them)these last few days. I'm getting to the point of not wanting to go. I know it is only a month, and I know with all the fun I'll be having it is them who envy me, but I cannot help but feel like it's their life I want. They get to stay around each other. And more importantly, they get to see Harry Potter at the premier! I want that. More than anything.

I met a girl named Chloe at the orientation the other day. Which by the way, for something as exciting as Costa Rica, the orientation was fuck-boring. Like, really really boring! And they didn't even provide us with food. Those bitches. Just kidding, Professor (if you're reading...). Regardless, Chloe said she loved Harry Potter and I instantly latched onto her hand in desperate desperation. I needed to know how much. We're in the clear as far as that goes. She's in Gryffindor ~!COUbandwagonGH~! We'll be seeing the premier in Costa Rica if they show it. I sure as hell hope they do. I will not be bringing my Hufflepuff threads for nothing.

Alright, well that's all I have for today. Wish me luck on my flight tonight. I probably won't write back until Sunday or so.

Derek Williamson
XOXO

A Lot Like Them.

In Costa Rica, and a lot of surrounding countries, Pura Vida is a common phrase. It literally translates to "Good Life." Of course, because of this translation, the Costa Rican people use it as loosely as we would say "Right on," or "Cool beans." Or maybe a bit more considering it is the 90's no longer...

Some Costa Rican facts are sure to be in order. Note: I am just going to cut and paste them from our Abroad Facebook page because I think that will be considerably easier.


Did you know that Costa Ricans have a life expectancy of 76 years. The literacy rate is almost 97% making CR one of the highest in Latin America if not the highest. The length of the Pacific coastline is about 650 miles and the length of the Atlantic (Caribbean) coastline is about 135 miles. Costa Rica is among the countries with the highest amount of protected land in the world; 25% of the national territory is dedicated to the national park system or biological, marine and land reserves, as well as other natural wildlife areas. Pura Vida!


Did you know that Costa Rica doesn't have a military and is the only country in Latin America that does not. Now that's pretty cool. They do have a national police force that acts as a para military force but very, very small and with no visible presence. Costa Rica uses money and resources, that it would otherwise use for a strong military force, to support lots of social programs like medicine, education, the environment and other infrastructures. Imagine how we could help, strengthen and support other agencies here in the US if we could use our military budget to do so!!


Did you know that Oscar Arias, who was President of Costa Rica two times, was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1987 for his efforts to bring harmony and stability to all the Central American countries. His award and medal are on display in the National Museum in San Jose. He is recognized as one of Costa Rica's most important and influencial men in Latin America. We will visit the National Museum on one of our excursions.


Did you know that Costa Rican coffee has been recognized as among the world's finest for over 150 years. It is not, however, native to Costa Rica. It was introduced to the country when arabica seeds were brought over by the Spanish from Africa and the Middle East in 1808. The temperate climate and fruitful volcanic soil of the Central Valley proved to be the perfect environment for coffee's infant stages in Costa Rica, and it swiftly became the country's main export. As we now know, coffee is no longer CR's main export but figures in the top 5. You coffee drinkers are going to just love being in CR for a month! Pura Vida.


Did you know that the Patron Saint of Costa Rica is a Black Madonna known as "La Negrita", a sacred black stone of the Virgin Mary. And, every August 2, in a land of 4,000,000 people, hundreds of thousands (some estimates reach 2,000,000) pilgrimage---many on foot---from across the country to a Catholic church in Cartago, Costa Rica containing this ancient relic.

Every second day of August, in a country of a little over four million, hundreds of thousands of the faithful make a pilgrimage to the Basilica de Nuestra Señora de Los Ángeles, considered by the Vatican so holy that a visit would expiate all sins. Follow the following link to learn more about "La Negrita". http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.costarica-discover-it.com%2Flanegrita.html&h=3a424

Did you know that on many a street corner in Costa Rica "pipas" are sold. They are from the coconut family but aren't the coconuts that we eat in the USA. You buy a "pipa" to drink its nutritional "agua" which is great to quench your thirst and great for its overall health benefits. When you buy a "pipa" the vendor will cut off the top of it and then give it to you with a straw to drink. Great stuff. I hope you will try some while you are in Costa Rica. Here's a link to learn more about the "pipa".

Did you know that your family will probably serve you a plate of fresh fruit every morning for breakfast. Some of the fresh fruit will be pineapple, mango, bananas, cantaloupe, watermelon, star fruit, papaya and other tropical fruit that's in season. You will also see lots of different fruits being sold on the street stands that you have never eaten before. I recommend that you try the "mamón chino" which is a pinkish-reddish fruit that is round like a jawbreaker and has small tentacles growing on the outside of it. It looks creepy-crawly! Yummy.

Did you know that one of the most popular and nutritional dishes in Costa Rica, and one that you will probably eat a lot of and really enjoy, is called the "casado". Casado means marriage or married and it gets its name for the perfect marriage/combination of all of the ingredients. It consists of rice and beans, meat or fish, fried plantains, and a carrot, tomato, and cabbage salad served with a fresh fruit drink. This basic and well-rounded meal strikes a perfect nutritional balance. ¡Qué delicioso y sabroso! The cafeteria at our language school will prepare this dish every day for those who want it.

Did you know that Costa Rica has 112 volcanoes and 10 are still active. Wow! We will see one of the most active volcanoes called Arenal. Hopefully we will be able to feel it burp or erupt a little. We will be soaking in the thermal hot springs that originate from this active volcano. Pura Vida!

Did you know that Costa Rica's seasons are defined by how much rain falls during a particular period and not by the four seasons here in the USA. The year can be split into two periods, the dry season known to the residents (ticos) as summer, and the rainy season, known locally as winter. The "summer" or dry season goes from December to April, and "winter" or rainy season goes from May to November, which almost coincides with the Atlantic hurricane season, and during this time it rains constantly in some regions. We will be there during the winter or rainy season!! Plan on buying a good umbrella in CR.

Did you know that Costa Rica is divided into seven (7) provinces for social and political purposes. They are: San Jose, Heredia, Alajuela, Cartago, Limon, Punta Arenas and Guanacaste. Government officials are elected every four years during the month of February and Costa Ricans have to be 19 years old or older to vote. Costa Ricans celebrate their national independence from Spain on the 15 of September of each year.

Did you know that the name of the current President of Costa Rica is Laura Chinchilla and she was elected on May 8, 2010 (first woman President of CR). The population of CR is 4.5 million and the majority of these inhabitants live in San Jose. Costa Rica is bordered on the north by Nicaragua and on the south by Panama. The major roadway that traverses CR from border to border is the Pan- American Highway (actually, the highway starts in Alaska and end in the southern part of Chile!). Review these facts so that you can talk about them with your families.

Did you know that the national flower of Costa Rica is the Guaria Morada, a beautiful purple orchid. The national bird of CR is the Yiguirro, a clay colored robin whose melodious calls signal the beginning of the rainy season. The national tree is the Guanacaste tree which means "tree of the ears" because its fruit looks like human ears. Costa Rica lies between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans so it's no wonder that CR is known for its beaufitul, prestine beaches. Knowing these facts about Costa Rica will endear you to your families with whom you will be staying. Pura Vida! (which, by the way, is the national motto of CR).

Did you know that you just completed all the facts in this post? Thanks for bearing with me. You're a trooper. Anyway, as they say, Pure life!

Don't Panic.

In the event that you were nervous that you wouldn't be hearing about my adventures abroad, chill the fuck out. I'll be posting shit here about 5 times a week. That way you can read up on all the adventures I'm having and how much I hate when people speak different languages to me. But it's all good, at least I can bargain my way out of risky business [insert tube socks].

The time is nearly here and the packing is about to commence. I will probably wait until Wednesday to pack; I want to continue wearing all my awesome clothes before putting them in sealed bags. Speaking of bags, Bridget and I shopped for a good seven hours today looking for a cute messenger bag that was perfect. Despite our diligence, we were not successful. We did however find some really cool books. I find it pointless to say, but I will none the less: I judge books by their covers and I found pretty covers to read the pages within whilst flying from place to place.

On the subject of flight... We're flying standby. Risky, yes. Adventure, yes. Winner? Adventure. We have a flight that we're likely to catch on Thursday morning (one A.M.). If we don't catch it, we'll find another way to get to Atlantic City. Once we're there, flying to Costa Rica will prove much more simple. Hopefully.

I'm really looking forward to this trip, but I'm also scared shitless. Wish me luck.

Pura vida!

A Baby Solves All of Life's Problems.

Here's the scoop: Brother gets divorce, brother gets girl friend pregnant. But not in that order... Regardless of how it went down, it went down. Honestly, I laughed when I was told he was pregnant. I thought it was hilarious. Then I started thinking about the baby. My usual baby thoughts aside, I began to feel bad for her/him. He/she would be brought up in a shotgun family. No one likes that idea.

Things actually are better than I thought they would be. When I moved out in the fall, the couple commandeered my bedroom in the house--making it their own. Immediately painting the walls grey after having them Red/Green/Yellow/Blue for so long, moving in their shit, and even decorating with stupid flowers, etc. They made a space for their new family, inside a family that already existed. I'm a bit surprised to say that it is working. The baby has since been born, and is now going on two months of age. She's a quiet baby, which is exactly what I was hoping for, but not expecting. The only time she bothers me is when someone wakes up at what-ever-the-fuck-in-the-morning and rocks her back and forth in their arms. The swaying from side to side makes the floor above me creak. Fuck that shit-I hate it!

My feelings on children are generic. They're stinky, loud, and they don't contribute anything to society. Lilee poops a lot, but I'm told it doesn't stink yet. She hardly ever cries, and when she does I can usually calm her down by just moving around a little bit. Although, It proves more challenging to relax her when she's hungry. Hell hath no fury like a baby who's hungry. It is true, however, that she just sits there. To be fair, she isn't old enough to get a job and bring in some real family income, so I guess I can't recent her for that. I actually like that she doesn't move around a lot. It makes it easier to hold her. Speaking of which, I love to hold her. She's so goddamn cute! She watches me watch cartoons, eat cheese, and make silly faces at her. But mostly she just watches which ever light bulb is closest to her.

I have to say, I love that she lives here. I love being able to hold my pretty pretty Monkee every day. She's one beautiful baby girl.

Working together to make me me. Chapter 1.

1. Peanut butter must be put on the bread first. Bridget likes to put the jelly on before, but I find that dumb.

2. I like my hangers to all be made of plastic. But not the ones that you get for free with new shirts, but the ones that come in different colors. If they have a top that spins, it is double no good. Sometimes I even match the hanger to the color of shirt.

3. I get upset, apparently, when a slow pitch soft ball team isn't wearing matching uniforms. This makes me uncomfortable.

4. My biggest pet peeve is when some asshole flicks their cigarette butt out the window of their car. This drives me to contemplated murder.

5. I cannot dry my freshly washed hands with the towel on the kitchen counter. It must be clean and in the drawer. After using it, I fold it and put it back; it is still clean.

6. I correct grammar on signs and billboards out-loud. I'm sure people get annoyed by this, but the annoyance I create for them is minor to the bother I feel for peoples lazy ignorance.

7. I have a shit-ton of ties. I wear maybe 5 of them.

8. I can't go into certain stores because I have no willpower once I cross their threshold. Even if I have a budget.

9. My favorite things are sometimes the plainest. For example: My favorite ice cream is Vanilla Bean.

10. If I see people moving their toes, I must move mine. If I see people not moving their toes, I must move mine. The latter reactions is to secure the notion of their existence, and the former is competition to see who's toes are more dexterous.

11. I spray my cologne in three different places on my body. One on the lower part of my neck in the front, one in the same spot in the rear, and one on my crotch. I heard somewhere that it makes your crotch more appealing...

12. Sometimes I obsess over cute boys to the point of depression. For example, in Denver this past weekend, we saw a very attractive man driving a bicycle rickshaw. We named him Rick. I cannot stop thinking about him, and yet, he will never grace my vision again.

13. I once conditioned myself to get into the right lane when a certain road split in two. And although I no longer live in the direction the right lane would take me, I still manage to make a loud noise of a random sort, and do a body gesture that one could only describe as crazy.

14. I played house by myself at age 16 because no one would play with me. That was the same age that I decided to stop playing. Worst decision ever.

15. Sometimes I pretend to be more masculine than I am to fit in. I fear that people won't accept me if they know what/how/who I really am. I don't want to do this, and I feel shamed after doing so, but sure enough, I do it none the less.

16. I'll go anywhere for the adventure. Just say the magic word.

17. I use the idea of me being an alcoholic to drink more. Drinking is fun.

18. When presented with a costume opportunity, I work too hard on what I want to look like. Especially considering no one else EVER puts that much effort into an impromptu costume. I usually look the best though. A friend once said, "It's a weird day when you have to dress like a pirate because you're afraid you won't fit in if you don't."

19. I HAVE to make it to #20 before finishing this post. If I don't, I'll feel incomplete. And if I get to #20 and think of more, then it will become #25 or #30.

20. Made it! I connect most everything in reality to something from Harry Potter because I'm just that awesome.



I'm sure there is more, but it will just have to be for another post.