cookies

After taking both my written and oral Spanish final exams yesterday, I had nothing to come into school for today. But someone mentioned baking cookies and suddenly that was my mission. I made a special trip to the store for chocolate chips last night, got my favorite recipe from my mom at home, and made another trip for butter. Got up and came to school today for the sole purpose of baking chocolate chip cookies. 

Borrowed eggs, new kitchen, strange new oven. Two different pans, resulting in very different cooking speeds. One pan that became a large overcooked merged mass. They were far from perfect cookies. 

But they were perfect. I hadn't been in the kitchen to do more than throw some lentils in the slow cooker for months. None of us had had homemade cookies for four months. Baking has long been my safe space, where I feel in control and calm. And to spend time, just talking with the other students, to get to give people cookies, know I'd brought a little bit of happiness to a building that has recently been filled with stress, anger, and discord. All that was a like a little magic. It was just what I needed today. 

weekend

This was the weekend that I decided I needed to get myself out of the house.

On Friday, no school, I slept in. It was heaven. 7:30 is too early! I felt like an adult when I willingly went to a museum, all by myself. I was bored after half an hour, but stayed an hour to see it all and so the guards wouldn't judge me. It was interesting, a good museum, but museums are not for me. I think it's good I didn't study abroad in Europe, as there seems to be quite a lot of old stuff, with history, and museums, there. I wouldn't've done so well with that.

I then thankfully made myself ask for directions so I didn't go walking off in the wrong direction to el mercado central. Souvenir shopping time! I was quite successful, although the only Costa Rica bro tank I could find was unfortunately a men's small with a skull on it. I'll do some doctoring when I get home and it'll work out.

I had fro-yo for the first time in months. It was delicious, eating that while watching tiny humans chasing pigeons around the square.

Saturday I knew I wanted to go do something, but was a little stumped because I'd used up all of my great two ideas on Friday. Luckily, found another student from my program who was sort of in the same boat and we decided to go to a concert together. I hadn't realized that this concert was going to be by children, but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. It really made me miss being in band, but mostly made me smile, sitting in a theater in Costa Rica that was modeled after one in Paris, with a friend, on a Saturday afternoon, listening to a mix of classical and Star Wars music.

Sunday I went to see The Avengers. I must've gotten a burst of bravery this weekend or something, because I went even my my friend bailed because she was sick. And then I went to a new mall by myself, only panicked a little bit when it was so big I couldn't find the theater, and saw my first ever movie by myself. Costa Rica assigns you seats in the theater, which was a new experience. Very different from US theaters, because it means everyone comes and takes their seat about three minutes before the movie starts.

I enjoyed myself, although it was a little sad not having anyone with me to recap the movie and I had to come home and ask Wikipedia my questions about some of the details that I missed. But I finished off the day with some raspberry gelato, so all was well.

La Fortuna

Upon leaving San Ramón, I began to realize that I had a rather limited number of weekends left with which I could do things. Added to the fact that I had yet to take a trip without either my program or my parents, I decided that I was going to do something. The thing of it didn't matter terribly, I just knew I wanted to have planned and gone on a trip by myself and get myself out of San José and the sitting around on the weekends that I usually end up doing. Following recommendations from the Red Cross people, I decided on La Fortuna.

La Fortuna is the town at the base of Volcán Arenal, a famous volcano because it was erupting until 2010, but is one of the few volcanoes that nevertheless still has a conical shape. With another student from the program and some advice from other students, off I went.

We got to feel nice and knowledgeable at the bus station, where we kept running into lost tourists who were so glad to find someone else who spoke English and so impressed that we'd been here for three months. The first night we went to the hot springs. There are about a million and one places to choose from, but we went with the recommendation. Which was lovely. About a bajillion pools, constructed to feel like you weren't in a resort but still in the forest. And some crazy big slides, one of which was fun, the other terrifying.

Day two we went on a tour hike of the National Park, where we saw pretty flowers, birds, animals, and then a lovely view of the volcano on one side and the lake on the other, while standing on a lava flow. In the afternoon we went to a waterfall. Now, I was thinking a little swimming hole type place with a small waterfall. But instead, we hiked down about 600 steps (going back up was fun) into a deep valley, where a very tall waterfall plummeted off the cliff into a small pool, and then the river continued. It was cold, so I didn't spend much time in the pool with the waterfall, but it was cool just to feel the sheer power of all that water. I enjoyed the river and people watching much more.

We kept getting asked by taxi drivers what our plans for the nights were, but we were perfectly content with our dinner and gelato and early bedtimes.

Day three was my favorite. Although no one we'd talked to had been super gung-ho about kayaking, we decided to go for it. And I am so so glad we did. I think everyone was used to big adventure things like ziplining or nice resort things, but kayaking was perfect. Just my pace and style. Down Rio Peñas Blancas, me, my friend, the guide. So peaceful and quiet, floating down a river in the middle of a forest. And it turns out I am much more interested in looking at birds when I'm not on a hike! Got to see two species of monkeys, iguanas, basilisks.

Topped off by a last meal and gelato and finally, clear weather allowing us to see the top of the volcano. Coming back to San José, to classes and routine, was a little rough. If I could spend every day kayaking down a river, I'd be content (although my shoulder muscles might disagree). 

San Ramón Reflections

• In spite of it all, I got used to kissing people on the cheek.
• Internet. Yes.
• I haven’t had the dream yet. You know, the one people talk about, their first dream in the language they’re learning. I’m trying to convince myself that this doesn’t mean I haven’t learned anything. What I do keep doing, however, is imagine myself explaining or asking something in the future and, halfway through picturing the conversation, realizing that I won’t have to say it in Spanish. Because I’ll be in the US. Surrounded by people who speak English. Weird. 
• I’m going to miss San Ramón, despite it all. Well, I’m going to miss some of the people. The people really do make a place.
• It's really weird to realize that I'm never going to see these people again. I've never been great at goodbyes.In fact, they're kinda the worst.
• The highlight of my entire time here so far is still being taught how to intubate by the paramedic at the Red Cross.
• Gender dynamics and machismo and cultural differences are frustrating and confusing and very hard to navigate.
• Bureaucracy sucks.
• I may have implied/stated at some point that Costa Rica is not that hot. I would like to amend that statement. February and even March are quite pleasant. April is apparently the hottest month and ohmygod it is. Sweating when I'm sitting and eating breakfast is a new one for me. Not my favorite. 
• Four weeks sounds much more manageable than five did. 

look! i'm alive!

In thinking about my blog for the first time in quite a long time, I couldn’t even remember if I’d posted anything about Nicaragua. (Turns out I did. Thank goodness, because the details of that trip are already long gone.) Things got a little hard since then. Things didn’t work out as I had hoped with the Red Cross, so instead of volunteering as an EMT, I was stuck in the office, feeling aimless. Luckily my advisor was able to get me into the local ER to do some observing there. It has been interesting to see what happens in the hospital, after learning, if not seeing, so much about the pre-hospital side.

I’ve had a head full of class decisions and senior year scheduling issues, waiting for a housing decision, trying to figure out my summer (it will work out. It has to work out.). And even though I’m still here and living the study abroad experience, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on what that means and what this experience has meant to me and why I feel like I was so unprepared for it.

I get why people don’t want to talk about the hard stuff. I am probably going to fall into that trap too, as it’s so much easier and more comfortable etc. But I do feel that I, at least, owe it to future abroad students to also include the harder, less shiny bits that don’t make it onto the pamphlets. That as nice as your host family is, they’re still not going to be your real family. But, you will spend enough time with them that some of their little habits might start to drive you up the wall. That culture shock is very real, but is different for everyone. That it doesn’t necessarily mean hating where you are and wanting to go home. That food is a big deal. That as suffocating as the Grinnell bubble can feel, it’s also a wonderful little sanctuary. That it’s hard. That every program has issues.That you do not have to enjoy every single second to still have a positive experience.

on challenging things

That last post was a bit....scrambled. But I'm leaving it as is because it's honest. It's how my brain is. I'm trying to figure out what I'm feeling about my experience while I'm still living it. It's confusing. It's a lot. I think I'm going to be processing for a while.

I talked to another student on the drive back from Nicaragua and she said that if someone asked her to sum up her experience in one word, she would say "challenging." And I thought that was the best description I'd heard of this experience. It's been so challenging, so hard, in mostly wildly different ways than I anticipated.

I'm not sure if I'd really thought it through more than realizing that I wasn't going to see my friends for eight months and that I was going to have to speak Spanish. I spent a lot of time fixated on those two things. Which are big ones, don't get me wrong.

But I didn't, couldn't, even begin to consider all that living and studying in another country entails. All the little things. The living in someone else's house. The food, the different routines and cultural expectations. The less-than-daily communication with my best friends, my people. All the little things that make up a life.

I have seven weeks left, today. In some ways that feels really long. I don't know what a lot of my time will look like. Plans have changed, expectations have been set aside, papers have to be written, friendships are being navigated.

But here I am, sitting back in my house that mostly has wifi, after a day split between two families where I feel more or less comfortable. Where I have made my home. After watching Grey's Anatomy with my host mom, sitting listening to Like Real People Do while blogging. And like Danielle keeps reminding me, I am doing this. And there is great value in doing hard things. 

Nicaragua

I find it incredibly difficult to describe the places I live. Never would I've thought that Costa Rica would be included in the category of "places I've lived," but here we are. I say this because I know I haven't really described the cities I've been. San José is just.....a big city. With busses and buildings and people. Although it's different from any other big city I've been in, I can't quite tell you why. Maybe it's the Catholic churches everywhere, or the lack of skyscrapers, or the sound walk signals make, or the fruit stands on every street. 

It’s all going by too fast. It normally doesn’t feel like that, but for the last four days I’ve been in Nicaragua with the other students in my program, as we had to leave the country to get our visas renewed. We’ve had jam-packed days. Interesting, but exhausting. Beaches, Lake Nicaragua, tour of Granada, horse-drawn buggies, volcanoes, lava, lava tubes, artisan market, old churches, tile roofs, beautiful views. I wanted to sit down and write at the end of each day, just to try and remember it all. But by the time we get dinner for 22 people and hang out and talk and work on our mid-semester presentations, I’m out for the day.

It’s ungodly hot, making me grateful for the relatively cooler temperatures in Costa Rica from the higher elevation. I’m ready to go back to home-cooked meals. Restaurants just aren’t the same. It’s nice to see the other students and swap stories about our rural sites and research. Nice to know I’m not the only one struggling a bit. But it’s also more of a reminder that they aren’t my real friends and definitely cannot replace them.

The first day we climbed a bell tower and got a gorgeous overview of the city. The whole time I was remembering climbing the minaret in Delhi and what a wonderful moment that was.

I’m currently in an old lodge in a private reserve near (I think) the capital of Nicaragua. Everyone is on a hike, but I needed some downtime. It’s beautiful, but I can’t quite appreciate it all as I’m tired and ready to get back to my new version of normal. 

It was nice to go somewhere new, break the routine a bit. Getting out of Costa Rica allowed me a little more perspective on the whole experience. I enjoyed seeing a different Central American country, feeling the small differences from the place that has come to feel a bit like home. But I'm ready for cooler temperatures, home-cooked meals, return to my routine, fewer things to do and places to see each day, less time spent on that bus. And I'm excited to be able to say that I have seven weeks left here, less than half. Because while Costa Rica is certainly more home than Nicaragua, it cannot compete with Colorado and Iowa and people I know and love. 

on gender and greetings

I wrote this after my first week in San Ramón. I'm posting it now because I think it's interesting to think about different cultural greetings and how gender mixes with that. Things have improved, as I've gotten to know the people better and we've established our standard greetings, implicitly. But it's still something I think about and that is definitely not natural or comfortable for me.

***

In Costa Rica, the greeting between two women or a man and a woman who know each other is a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Men get a handshake.

This custom was never explained to us, really, and I know that even if it had been, I would still be a little lost trying to navigate its uses.

In San José it didn’t really come up, except for the first awkward greeting at the airport with my family. But after that we weren’t really interacting with ticos outside of the admin and teachers at ACM. But here, in San Ramón, it’s a whole new ballgame.

I’m spending my time volunteering and doing a study on the Red Cross. So I go to the office each day and interview people and am getting to know the workers and read the equivalent of my EMT book in Spanish.

In the US when you (or I, at least) get comfortable in a place of work and know people, a standard greeting is a smile and “Good morning. How are you?” Here, though, from what I have gathered, it’s a “Buenos días, pura vida” combined with a cheek kiss and hug.

This just makes me uncomfortable. Firstly, it bothers me in the states when people hug when they literally saw each other 12 hours ago. Unnecessary. Secondly, I like my personal space, thank you. Thirdly, with the guys, I have no idea what kind of signals I’m sending.

The gender divide and relationships are different here, in a lot of ways that are hard for me to understand, as a foreigner. But I feel like if I go in for an enthusiastic cheek kiss, it would seem very forward of me. But maybe that’s just the reserved American in me? But then I think I come across as stand-off-ish when I don’t go for that, which makes them uncomfortable, which makes me more uncomfortable. What I really need is a female worker to go in five seconds before me so I can see how she would act. Or to not have different standards for men and women, but that’s a whole other battle.

on daily life

I have a routine here. I like routines and patterns. And I like that it was all my own making; the guy in charge of the Red Cross left my schedule completely up to me and my program doesn’t care, as long as I get my work done.

The first few mornings I was at the office promptly at 8am, but that is long gone. I quickly realized that there was no point, as no one was even there to be impressed by my early start. So now, I get to sleep in (Heaven, after my 6am wakeup call in San Jose. Made me rethink all my moaning about 8ams in Grinnell.) until 8:07 to have an 8:30 breakfast with my host mom and sister. I leave the house to walk the three blocks to the Red Cross around 9am.

I greet the workers I know and smile awkwardly at those I don’t. I have not figured out how to gracefully introduce myself or exactly what Spanish words to string together in that situation. So my current approach is to wait for someone else to introduce us. For the next hour I approach random community members and ask them questions about their knowledge and usage of the Red Cross. Most people are quite nice and willing to give me a few minutes of their time.

The paramedic arrives at 10am and I’m always hoping that he feels like teaching me something new (so far it’s been intubating and EKGs) or showing me cool videos of medical stuff or on-the-job things. He thought the ginormous snake ones were hilarious, I did not. When he’s around, I’m truly in heaven.

I sometimes help around the office by sorting receipts or helping to sell people coffee or going to find someone who might actually have an answer to a more complicated question. At noon, I head back home for lunch. I eat with my mom and any other family members who happen to be home and then rest/sleep/talk to friends until about 1:10. I head back to the Red Cross (up the very, very steep hill I live on in the hottest part of the day: not my favorite) for an afternoon of much the same. A few interviews, reading the Spanish EMT book, learning how to read EKGs, playing foosball (I am terrible), talking to the employees, helping with English homework.

Around 3:30ish I have coffee and bread with all the medical staff that are around. This is usually my favorite part of the day. Sitting around a table, chatting, laughing, feeling like a part of something.

Between 5 and 5:30 I head home. Shower off the sweat of the day, enter the data from the day’s interviews. Work on job applications. Talk to friends who are still awake (Europe is far). Tell my host mom about my day. Dinner’s around 7. Afterward we watch some TV and then I head to bed.

It’s simple, and when I distill it down into a few paragraphs, sounds kind of boring. And honestly, some days it is. I’m waiting for approval to be on the ambulance and sitting in the office is not exactly my dream. Sometimes it’s interesting to interview people and sometimes I hide from everyone because people are scary. But it’s good. 

on food

Breakfast: Gallo pinto (The Costa Rican dish of rice and beans. At first I was excited because rice and beans mean protein for a vegetarian, but now I genuinely am excited to eat gallo pinto. It’s yummy! And nothing, I promise you, like the stuff you get in the US.) and huevos revueltos (Scrambled eggs. Yay more protein!), with café and maybe some fruit or a tortilla or cheese. I’ve finally adjusted to eating a bigger breakfast than just a bowl of cereal and milk. Not sure I’m going to be able to go back to that. Although I do miss my Crispix.

Lunch: It varies. Since my host family’s house is such a short walk from the Red Cross, I’m able to come home for a hot lunch each day. There’s always rice and beans. Sometimes sopa (soup), sandwiches, picadillo (I still have no idea how to explain this. The base is whatever kind of vegetable you want, chopped into small pieces, usually cooked, along with some other veggies and spices.), it varies day by day. And always a delicious frescado de fruta (Fruit juice. Careful: Ticos do not drink jugo. They drink fresco.) made from fresh fruit. My favorites are lemon, pineapple, and blackberry.

Afternoon snack: Cafecito y pan (coffee and bread). Good bread, good coffee, pura vida. People here can’t get over the fact that I don’t like natilla which everyone seems to love and smear all over their bread. It seems to be some mix between butter and cream. I stick to plain butter and sometimes some guava jam.

Dinner: Beans and rice or gallo pinto, always and forever. Like lunch, the rest varies. Some recent favorites have been mashed and fried yucca with cheese in the middle and prensadas de queso (Quesadillas. I could not get over the fact that even though the word is a “Spanish” one in English, that’s not what they use here.). More frescado. Cooked veggies (I have eaten more broccoli here than I had my entire life.).

Overall, the food is great. Dinner isn’t horribly late. Thanks to my friends rice and beans and eggs, I get good amounts of protein. I have learned so many new words for food in Spanish. And tried so many new foods! Buen provecho. 

a random list of various things

• On Saturday I'll have been here a month. This is amazing to me. 
• On Saturday I am also moving to a new town and house and family where I'll be staying for the next two months. I'm not ready to leave this place that I've just started to get comfortable in. 
• I have my routine. I know where some things are in the grocery store. I've explored a little bit. I now know what my host parents are asking me when they say ¿Cómo ameneció?
• I'm no longer asking myself "What are you doing with your life?" when I think about the fact that I'm living in Central America. 
• Time zones are dumb. And I still don't really understand them. 
• I really have no concept of what snow is at this point. It's just white stuff in pictures, when I'm here in the 80s every day and have started to agree with the locals that temperatures in the 60s are "cold."
• One girl was complaining about having been here for three weeks and not having had, in her words, "big life experiences." But I disagree. I may not have climbed volcanoes or gone to the beach or traveled the whole country or partied hard or whatever else one might consider "life experiences," but I think I've done plenty. I've lived in another country. 
• Every program, every experience has issues. I'm working on finding the balance between acknowledging that and giving myself space to complain and commiserate with focusing on the good stuff that is also very present. 
• Like the fresh strawberries I have every day for lunch. 
• Or watching Disney movies in Spanish. 
• Or how exciting it was to help my host brother with his English homework and not feel completely incompetent for once. 
• Knowing the buses is such a cool concept to me. I've never lived somewhere with any legitimate public transport system. Knowing my stop and how much it will cost and feeling, just a little bit like a local is a wonderful change. 
• And finally, a joke from another student's host mother: What do you call someone who speaks three languages? A trilingual. What do you call someone who speaks two languages? A bilingual. What do you call someone who speaks one language? A gringo. 

on spanish

Sometimes....

I stand there, in front of my host mom or my classmates, and want to bury myself into the floor. The words are stuck behind a block in my mouth. My brain can't come up with the word I want and all the other ways to explain it have vanished from the face of the earth.

My tongue won't cooperate to form itself into rr's and long and unfamiliar combinations.

I say something after having rehearsed it for the previous 10 minutes in my head.

I feel like I could almost pass for not being a foreigner.

I walk for an extra two blocks when I'm lost because that's how long it takes me to build up the courage to ask someone for directions.

I open my mouth and the person in front of me immediately switches into English.

I make stupid, idiotic mistakes that I would never have thought I would. I say "con yo" instead of "conmigo" or make "problema" feminine.

I tune out of a conversation for a few seconds and when I come back to earth, realize I have no idea what's being discussed.

I get so frustrated by all of the words and sayings unique to Costa Rica (costarriqueñismos) that I have to learn.

I nod my head and smile vaguely because I have no idea what someone just said to me. Or if it was even a question.

And sometimes, sometimes, someone asks me a question and I don't have to think through my answer, or correct myself halfway through. Sometimes the words march out of my mouth just the way they're supposed to, the way they do in my head. 

San Ramón

Today I got up early to take a different bus all the way to the center of San José, where I met the student services coordinator for my program. She walked with me through the center of the city to a different bus stop, where she got me on the correct bus to go to Alajuela. From there I had to find my way through a meat market to a children's park, where I waited for my advisor. She came and picked me up and we drove together to San Ramón. When I say all of that I think it's a bit of a miracle that I got there okay.

San Ramón is where I will be spending the months of March and April, as I conduct my research on perceptions and knowledge about the Red Cross. (In Costa Rica the Red Cross is the primary pre-hospital emergency service, as opposed to in the US where it's just for larger disasters.) I met with the director of the Red Cross branch and met the paramedic and several other workers and got a tour of their facility.

My advisor talked a lot and fast, but I caught most of it. Unfortunately, I'm not the type of person who's going to try to insert myself into a conversation in another language when I'm not being asked direct questions, so I'm not sure how much Spanish they think that I actually speak. (I'm not really sure either, but that's another matter entirely.) However, everyone seemed incredibly nice and open and so willing to have me around asking questions and spending time with them.

We had to clear up the issue of technician vs. técnico (In the US the basic level of pre-hospital certification is an Emergency Medical Technician, which is what I am. In Costa Rica, the highest level is un técnico, which is equivalent to a paramedic in the states. Paramédico in Spanish can mean either the equivalent of EMT or paramedic.) My advisor had heard technician and thought I had two years of schooling to be a paramedic. Oops.

But overall it went really well. It sounds like I'll be able to do some interviews, but won't be totally on my own for them. And best of all, I'll get to spend lots of time with the paramedic (that's what I'm going to call the técnico because it makes the most sense in my head) and on the ambulance. I have to go out and buy some heavy duty work boots!

I also got to briefly meet my new host family that I'll be staying with for the two months in San Ramón. They seem nice and it's a beautiful house with a rose garden. Only they apparently hadn't been told I'm vegetarian, and my advisor informed them of that. The mom looked slightly terrified at the prospect of trying to cook without meat, so that could be an adventure.

And then I got back home safely. At the bus station in San José I walked the wrong direction, so ended up getting a taxi to bring me back home (which I had a brief panic about because for a few minutes I thought I'd gotten in a non-legit taxi, but never fear, I was wrong). It sounds so extravagant to me, coming from the states, and even when I compare the bus fare to that of the taxi. But when I end up paying less than $8, I tell myself to chill. Not walking in circles for 20 minutes in the middle of the city was worth that. 

busy Wednesday

Coming home I was all excited to sit down and write about how I'd had such a good afternoon; after my long nap I met lots of ticos (Costa Ricans) my own age and yadda yadda. But then I got home and it dawned on me actually how much homework I have. They didn't think things through very well, in my opinion, and made a bunch of stuff due on the same day.

At Grinnell, study abroad is  regarded as an awesome experience, but generally the academics are not seen as being as strong. Which honestly sounded awesome to me. I was ready to have my brain full of lots of language and people and culture and slightly less homework. But, here I am. Stressed about work. Which I know is natural and that it'll pass and that I should just chill, but that's where I'm at.

The first draft of our proposal for our project is due tomorrow. Part of the reason it's so hard is because there's so much that's still up in the air. I just don't know the answer to a lot of the questions they have for me.

But, it really was a good afternoon. After I got another hour of sleep under my belt, I felt much, much more like a human again. And so the "speed dating" between us, the gringos, and them, the University of Costa Rica students, was actually really fun. The highlight for me was meeting a tico who's going to be in Grinnell next year! We spoke a fun mix of Spanish and English, he taught me some swear words (that I swear I wanted to know not to use, but for my linguistic knowledge), and we exchanged numbers and emails so so we can see each other and hang out again. Friends! I apparently still know how to make them!

And now I must go and re-watch a video about the Red Cross in Costa Rica so that I can present it to my Spanish conversation class tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!

week two

I've been here a little over a week. It feels like much, much longer. Which I suppose is understandable, given the dramatic changes my life has undertaken in that amount of time. I am still having moments where I look around and ask myself "What am I doing with my life?" The concept of up and moving to another country for four months is very strange in some ways.

The good news about this week is that we only have four days of classes. Early (early early) Friday morning we leave for a quick field-trip to I'm-not-sure-where. But it apparently involves a chocolate farm, consumption of large quantities of chocolate, sloths, and some type of forest-walk. So I'm excited.

Most of my program is built around the completion of an independent resarch project that each students designs, carries out, and writes up with the help of an advisor on a topic of their choosing. The first draft of our proposal is due Thursday, which I was fine with, until I looked at the example one and saw that it's 14 pages. ack. Little confused about how we're supposed to go from our first five sources due tomorrow to a draft two days later, but whatever.

It's raining. Which is apparently very strange because it's summer here and never rains this early. I'm just hoping I won't get too wet this week on my walks to and from school.

Spanish is harder than it was the first week. The first week was mostly me being super excited that my Spanish was actually passable. That I could communicate with people. But now that we've talked about the easy, simple things, it's harder. Even in English, I am generally a pretty quiet person except with the people I know really well. In Spanish, I struggle to come up with things to say, and then simplify them back to tenses and constructions that will be comprehensible outside of my brain. It's hard to have a censor on myself like that.

But then I come here and I talk to friends and family and the wonderful world of the internet. Which is helping to keep me sane, but I can also feel how it disrupts my Spanish. Once I'm thinking in English, it takes my brain a little bit to transition back into Spanish. I'm not going to give it up, but the balance between the two is definitely on my mind. 

musings.

Comparisons between here and India are inevitable. I'm doing my best to not let them overwhelm me and to be present here. But, for kicks, here's what I've noticed.

--Being able to speak even a little bit of the language makes such a huge difference in my experience. Being able to respond in kind when someone greets me on the street feels huge.

--A lot of the students were initially overwhelmed by the traffic, but for me it was so tame in comparison to India. There are lanes! People stay in them! I don't fear for my limbs when trying to cross the street. And I'm mostly grateful that they drive on the right here. I still haven't shaken the habit of looking right twice, so now I just look both ways an excessive number of times, which probably isn't the worst thing in the world.

--I stand out here so much less. White skin is not the norm, but it's definitely not the rarity like it was in India. And since I'm living here, I'm getting to know my way around and definitely am starting to feel, and hopefully look, a lot less like a clueless tourist.

--I have not been asked for my picture once. It is fabulous. Of course, as I was walking home today thinking about all this, I got catcalled, but I just smiled. That's something I get in the US and while it's definitely not my favorite, it feels manageable.

--I am definitely out of the Grinnell bubble. As small and limiting as it can feel sometimes, it's a wonderful place to be and I miss it and the people.

--I don't know how to end this. I've settled in here way faster than I thought was possible. Things are generally quite good. And my family has a cat, so it will all be okay.

day one

It began at a few minutes before six, so that I would have enough time to eat breakfast and get ready before heading out the door to reach my institute's office by 7:30.

We had a morning full of listening to thrilling information about emergencies, policies, and expectations. Then we headed out for lunch, before a (long, long) tour of the University of Costa Rica campus.

My favorite part of the day was when my host mom arrived to pick me up. It was such a relief to see a familiar, kind face who was going to take me back to what is rapidly becoming my home.

There are 14 total students on my program, some who already knew each other, but most not. We started the day speaking to each other in our halting Spanish, but by the end had mostly devolved back into the easier English. In these first few days of orientation, it's not a big deal, but soon it will become an expectation to speak only in Spanish.

They all seem very nice, most of us eager for our Spanish to improve and to begin our research projects. I'm not sure how well I'm going to be able to get to know them, with the limiting factor of language from both ends. We shall see. Definitely different from my long, easy conversations with friends back home.

Tomorrow there's more orientation, plus the Spanish tests. I was so anxioius about these tests before arriving, but now that I'm here, and can say that I've survived multiple days with a family that only speaks Spanish, a test seems very small in comparison.

To get to school I walk through the neighborhood for about 10 minutes, catch a bus (my host mama originally told me that any bus would work, but she keeps qualifying this, so here's hoping I don't end up on the wrong side of town), hope the traffic isn't too terrible, hopefully remember the correct stop, and then walk a few blocks to the office. The money is a whole other challenge, so my grand plan is to just hand the driver the smallest bill I have and hope he gives me the correct change.

That's my not-so-thrilling news.

It already feels like it's been going to fast in some ways, but sometimes I can't believe that I signed myself up for four months (129 days, but who's counting) here. 

Arrival in San José

I had the beginning to my next post all composed in my head. It would be a funny apology for writing yet another "pre-departure" post. I would talk about all my feelings about leaving and fears and excitement.

But I never quite got there. Mostly because I was in an impressive state of denial. Study abroad had sounded really fun and great until I started getting down to the details. Like how it would involve living in another country for four months, speaking another language, small things like that. So I settled into and thoroughly enjoyed my winter break. My family and I adopted two new fuzzy kittens. I watched TV, read books, and slept in. And shocked myself and my friends with how late I started packing.

It didn't hit me until I looked out the window of the plane on our final descent into San José and saw that the terrain was actually quite hilly, even bordering on mountainous. Which sent me into an utter panic that I had not packed any walking type shoes besides my beloved black converse. I proceeded to picture the conversation with my host family in my head about why I, the stupid American, had not thought to bring such an essential. Halfway through I realized that I had no idea how to say the word "hiking," so I resorted to saying that these were not shoes for walking, but for walking. It went poorly.

Luckily, everything in me calmed down the second I saw a very nice looking women holding a clear sign with my name printed on it, right where she was supposed to be.

I said hello to her and her husband and 10 year old son and we all did a weird handshake/hug/cheek kiss combo. (That would be a helpful thing to include in the arrival materials, btw: cultural customs around greetings.)

But anyway, it went fine. My brain started pulling out Spanish words that I hadn't thought of in years, and I even managed to make them think I was competent when I said "única" instead of "sola." Don't know why that's impressive, but I'll take it.

My stomach can handle rice and beans, they were very happy when I told them I liked their house, they have a cat and he likes me (!!!), I learned that I have a short commute compared to many of the other students, and I did not in fact break their shower door. It's the small things.

Suffice it to say, I survived. I might even continue to do so for another few days. 

Delhi

I have one more day here. I get on a plane at almost midnight tonight and begin the journey home. 

Physically I’ll get home midday on the 9^th, but who knows when my brain will catch up to me. But I am already making plans for when I’m home to go see friends.

We’ve spent a lot of time here in Delhi, but somehow it doesn’t feel like that much. It was broken up by a quick trip to Agra in the middle to see the Taj Mahal. Back in Delhi we’ve visited Lodi Gardens, the India Gate (which it turns out is actually a war memorial, which I was not expecting), driven past the PM’s house and the parliament fancy building places.

Obama will be visiting India for Republic Day, January 26. I first learned of this from some shop owners in Hassan, who immediately proclaimed “Barack Obama” after hearing that we were from the US. Made me feel like an egocentric stereotypical American, who knows nothing about other countries but who expects everyone else to know about her country of origin. Regardless, it’s a big deal and people are excited. It’s a big political statement that he’s making by visiting and people are well aware of this. We drove along the parade route, which is lined with thousands and thousands of bleacher seats. Delhi police gates are everywhere in preparation.

As a city, I feel like I’ve seen both the fancy side, with big boulevards and trimmed trees, and the other side. What some might call the “real” India. But I think you have to see both and everything in-between to begin to get a taste for this city, let alone this country.

Delhi is quite fond of roundabouts (with inexplicable stop lights in the middle), unlabeled one-way streets, and speed breakers. Temples and mosques are everywhere. Markets specializing in everything from car parts to gold and silver to wedding stuffs, to clothing and shoes. People everywhere. Cars and rickshaws and buses and bikes and trucks and motorcycles (my ideas about how many people can fit on a motorcycle have been blown away). Signs that call for people to “Obey lane discipline” make me laugh. I realize when I look around that my pictures and words will never be able to come close to capturing the essence of what I am experiencing. It takes all of my senses plus some to comprehend it.

Now I’m rambling. I think this is me trying to make sense of it all. From the tiny details like the color of our taxi driver’s hat (blue) to the wide overviews that climbing a mosque’s 40m minaret afforded me. It’s a lot. And I think that’s about all I can say for sure right now.

The Taj

The Taj Mahal.

I was actually freaking there.

It was quite surreal.

Moonlight viewing was wonderful, as it was quiet and peaceful and we just got to stand there and stare at it in awe. A half hour of staring is a good long chunk. So then today we got to go in the daylight (again, no mist, the weather gods were smiling on us) and get all the details, up close and personal.

Wonderful guide, lots of good information, some cheesy tourist pictures, and still time to sit and just be in its presence. Because it is truly stunning. 

Moonlight viewing. We were so lucky that the fog cleared enough for us to see it!

Being an embarrassing tourist.

on photography

I chose not to bring my camera with me to India. It was a decision I went back and forth on, but ultimately decided that I would be more comfortable without it. As a tall, white, blond, young woman, I stick out here. I felt that adding a fancy dslr to the mix would only make me more of a target. And as impossible as it is, I do like to pretend that I can sometimes blend in a bit, and I didn’t feel that that would be possible to do with my camera.

I’ve borrowed my parents’ cameras a few times. I love taking pictures, but it has also reaffirmed my decision to not bring my own. It is so easy for me to get sucked into framing the perfect shot, messing with the iso and exposure. Sometimes it’s so much better for me to just take in what’s in front of me. To accept that I will never possibly be able to capture everything that my many senses can. So I just turn in lots of circles, walk slowly, and enjoy it while I’m there. And let that be enough.

With that being said, here are some grainy cell phone shots I've gotten: 

My bed in Bangalore

A chilly arrival in Delhi

The autos that are everywhere