Work was relatively uneventful today. Marilyn is back from Sweden; she brought euros and chocolates for the whole office. I forgot to mention last week that my desk was moved. I'm slightly sad about this. My old desk had a view of the entire office and the room next to us; now, my desk faces the wall. I have to turn around if I want to see any of the action. It's okay, though, because Cesar moved into my old desk. His office is being turned into the finance office. Working in a room with Cesar, Marilyn and Luis Diego is never dull. Cesar played Michael Jackson on his iTunes all day; he knew every word. I love him.
Office life here is so similar and yet so different from the United States. Everyone plays tricks on each other and gossips in low whispers. Ticans like to waste time, too. Technically, they work 8a.m. - 6p.m., but as we know, no one actually shows up at 8 a.m. And no one actually works all the time. It can be extremely frustrating sometimes.
Lunch time is observation hour for me, because everyone speaks too quickly for me to understand. Everyone here is obsessed with packed lunches. Luis Diego's mother still packs lunch for him. Todos en la oficina bring leftovers, perfectly portioned into their fancy tupperware. You'd think Gladware was all anyone ever ate out of; literally, the table is covered in plastic containers. It reminds me of elementary school, when your friends scope out each other's lunch boxes and make trades. My co-workers do the same thing. Sometimes, someone will pull out a whole avocado for everyone to share.
After lunch, I transcribed more of Marilyn's interviews from Sweden. She managed to get a one-on-one conversation with the new CEO. It really is fascinating. I've learned more about the future of Ericsson and broadband technology in the past week than I've ever learned about the computer age in a classroom.
Traffic update: In Costa Rica, the roads are backwards. I just realized that to make a left turn is easy; to make a right turn, you need an arrow. The streets are different. And green lights flash on and off as a signal to hurry up before they turn yellow. Que chiva!
When I got home, there was a power outage. It had stormed throughout the afternoon and the electricity on the whole street was out. It wasn't that much of an inconvenience, though, because there was daylight and it's not like we have air conditioning anyway. The power came back on soon enough.
Patri made noodles with vegetables and different kinds of meat. There was chicken, carne, pieces of ham and something else that looked like cut up hotdogs tossed in with the pasta. Needless to say, I avoided anything that wasn't chicken. Mixing meats is too weird for me.
Everyone in Costa Rica is talking about the current government situation in Honduras. From what I've deduced, there was a military coup that threw out the president of Honduras after he attempted to change a bill regarding the length of a presidential term. Apparently, he is a leftist. He was flown to Costa Rica and has since flown to meet with Hugo Chavez, who might as well be his brother, according to my co-workers. From what I understand, this is the first successful military coup since 1992 or 1993. Most of the "free world," the United States included, is refusing to recognize the replacement government and is insisting that the democratically elected president be put back in place. Despite his political preferences, he is still the popularly elected government official. All of the Ticans in my office are annoyed at the lack of cooperation on the part of the Hondurans. There is a certain level of anarchy in Central/South America that doesn't exist in the U.S., and most Ticans hate it (even though they like breaking rules and doing whatever they want to do). I like learning about current events here, but it has made me realize how little I know about the world. Sure, I skim the newspaper at home, but it's usually the school paper and contains more local news.
It's pouring rain outside my window, so I'm going to go catch up on world news. I like reading when it rains.
Ciao!
Lauren
Monday, June 29, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Manuel Antonio Beach
Buenas!
Where do I begin? I have so much to say! Friday was a relatively uneventful day at work, except there was a small celebration in the afternoon. At the end of every month, all of the businesses on the floor get together and eat cake to honor another successful month and birthdays or congratulations for fellow employees. Throughout the month, employees also write cute notes to each other, to thank them or give them a compliment. At the end of the month, they're distributed. It was adorable to watch the smiles on peoples' faces.
On Saturday morning, we left at 7 a.m. (NOT cool) for Manuel Antonio. We stopped at a restaurant on the side of the road for breakfast. In the United States, the side of the road is a service station with Starbucks or a trucker stop like Denny's. Here, it is a family owned, open air cafe overlooking cascading green mountains and coffee plants. The Pacific Ocean was in the distance. I had my omelette and ate it, too.
When we arrived in Manuel Antonio, we dropped our bags off at our hotel, El Mono Azul (The Blue Monkey), and went straight to the beach. The area is quite popular among tourists but for good reason. The beach is gorgeous. There are souvenir shops and artists lining the street. The water was the perfect temperature, and we rented boogie boards and surfed the waves all afternoon. Natalie, Alira, Jeremy, Amy and I went to a local restaurant for lunch. There were tiny squirrel monkeys in the window of the shop next door! I took a million pictures.
The beach was refreshing. I've spent plenty of time in the Atlantic, but the Pacific was just as fun. Tican vendors kept trying to sell us things, like fresh coconuts, wooden trinkets and hair braiding. Every Caribbean island and Latin American beach town sells the same souvenirs. I love it.
On Saturday night, we ate at a restaurant called El Avion. There was an actual crashed plane there. The restaurant's bar was inside, and the kitchen below sent up finished entrees through an elevator that came through the back of the plane. The restaurant overlooked the ocean and surrounding real estate. There is some serious real estate there, too. I wonder who buys these homes.
After dinner, we went back into town to a bonfire. It was 75% gringo, 25% local. No me cae bien. We left when the band wasn't up to our standards (we've been spoiled with all the Latin music here), and went to another bar up the road. I showed off my newly acquired salsa skills and recently learned Michael Jackson singing. I have never heard Thriller so many times as I have since Thursday. Insert all of the witty comments you can make with his song lyrics here.
There was a gringa woman who kept talking to us at the bar who was...strange. She told me that she never had kids, had a terrible accident, was in a coma, was pronounced dead and now has a different outlook on life, clearly. She's from California. One day, her chiropractor husband came home from work to find their house for sale and all of their belongings packed. They moved to Costa Rica without a plan and bought a house. She has no phone, and she just got internet a month ago after living here for five years. She has a hair salon here for women from the United States. She kept saying, "Thank goodness there's a need for soft tissue chiropractors here, or else we would never make it." She runs 10 miles on the beach every day, and goes back to the U.S. once a year to see her family and shop for the entire year. She said that her gringo friends who don't have permanent residency permits (apparently very expensive) are legally required to leave Costa Rica for 72 hours every three months. They take buses to Panama or Nicaragua instead of spending hundreds on flights elsewhere. Needless to say, this is way too much information one should ever learn about another person at a random bar in Manuel Antonio. I think she was lonely. I knew it was weird to talk to a stranger for so long, but I love learning about the lives of others. And she wouldn't leave.
This morning, we woke up early and went to the national park. On our hike, we saw a toucan, a sloth, tons of iguanas and other equally creepy reptiles. The hike ended at another beautiful beach with monkeys everywhere. They were so aggressive. We saw a monkey climb out on a tree branch and steal some tourist's bag of food. He and his monkey friends took the bananas out of the bag and then threw the bag away. We swam all morning in the clear water. There were black rocks in the distance and hermit crabs and soft white sand and nature...paradise, really. I was sad to leave. The hike back was along the water. There was so much natural beauty; I could have stayed there forever.
We went to a restaurant called Cafe Milagro for lunch. My meal: mora (blackberry) juice, chicken pesto sandwich with avocado on a baguette, banana chips and a chocolate milkshake. Heaven on a plate, basically. I was sad to leave. Maybe if Ila comes, we'll go back there.
I slept all the way home (is anyone surprised?), and enjoyed hot homemade burritos for dinner, compliments of Patri.
Back to work tomorrow! There's a 4th of July picnic this Friday somewhere in San Jose. Eric was telling us about it today. It sounds like all the gringos get together and celebrate, so I'm looking forward to it.
Where do I begin? I have so much to say! Friday was a relatively uneventful day at work, except there was a small celebration in the afternoon. At the end of every month, all of the businesses on the floor get together and eat cake to honor another successful month and birthdays or congratulations for fellow employees. Throughout the month, employees also write cute notes to each other, to thank them or give them a compliment. At the end of the month, they're distributed. It was adorable to watch the smiles on peoples' faces.
On Saturday morning, we left at 7 a.m. (NOT cool) for Manuel Antonio. We stopped at a restaurant on the side of the road for breakfast. In the United States, the side of the road is a service station with Starbucks or a trucker stop like Denny's. Here, it is a family owned, open air cafe overlooking cascading green mountains and coffee plants. The Pacific Ocean was in the distance. I had my omelette and ate it, too.
When we arrived in Manuel Antonio, we dropped our bags off at our hotel, El Mono Azul (The Blue Monkey), and went straight to the beach. The area is quite popular among tourists but for good reason. The beach is gorgeous. There are souvenir shops and artists lining the street. The water was the perfect temperature, and we rented boogie boards and surfed the waves all afternoon. Natalie, Alira, Jeremy, Amy and I went to a local restaurant for lunch. There were tiny squirrel monkeys in the window of the shop next door! I took a million pictures.
The beach was refreshing. I've spent plenty of time in the Atlantic, but the Pacific was just as fun. Tican vendors kept trying to sell us things, like fresh coconuts, wooden trinkets and hair braiding. Every Caribbean island and Latin American beach town sells the same souvenirs. I love it.
On Saturday night, we ate at a restaurant called El Avion. There was an actual crashed plane there. The restaurant's bar was inside, and the kitchen below sent up finished entrees through an elevator that came through the back of the plane. The restaurant overlooked the ocean and surrounding real estate. There is some serious real estate there, too. I wonder who buys these homes.
After dinner, we went back into town to a bonfire. It was 75% gringo, 25% local. No me cae bien. We left when the band wasn't up to our standards (we've been spoiled with all the Latin music here), and went to another bar up the road. I showed off my newly acquired salsa skills and recently learned Michael Jackson singing. I have never heard Thriller so many times as I have since Thursday. Insert all of the witty comments you can make with his song lyrics here.
There was a gringa woman who kept talking to us at the bar who was...strange. She told me that she never had kids, had a terrible accident, was in a coma, was pronounced dead and now has a different outlook on life, clearly. She's from California. One day, her chiropractor husband came home from work to find their house for sale and all of their belongings packed. They moved to Costa Rica without a plan and bought a house. She has no phone, and she just got internet a month ago after living here for five years. She has a hair salon here for women from the United States. She kept saying, "Thank goodness there's a need for soft tissue chiropractors here, or else we would never make it." She runs 10 miles on the beach every day, and goes back to the U.S. once a year to see her family and shop for the entire year. She said that her gringo friends who don't have permanent residency permits (apparently very expensive) are legally required to leave Costa Rica for 72 hours every three months. They take buses to Panama or Nicaragua instead of spending hundreds on flights elsewhere. Needless to say, this is way too much information one should ever learn about another person at a random bar in Manuel Antonio. I think she was lonely. I knew it was weird to talk to a stranger for so long, but I love learning about the lives of others. And she wouldn't leave.
This morning, we woke up early and went to the national park. On our hike, we saw a toucan, a sloth, tons of iguanas and other equally creepy reptiles. The hike ended at another beautiful beach with monkeys everywhere. They were so aggressive. We saw a monkey climb out on a tree branch and steal some tourist's bag of food. He and his monkey friends took the bananas out of the bag and then threw the bag away. We swam all morning in the clear water. There were black rocks in the distance and hermit crabs and soft white sand and nature...paradise, really. I was sad to leave. The hike back was along the water. There was so much natural beauty; I could have stayed there forever.
We went to a restaurant called Cafe Milagro for lunch. My meal: mora (blackberry) juice, chicken pesto sandwich with avocado on a baguette, banana chips and a chocolate milkshake. Heaven on a plate, basically. I was sad to leave. Maybe if Ila comes, we'll go back there.
I slept all the way home (is anyone surprised?), and enjoyed hot homemade burritos for dinner, compliments of Patri.
Back to work tomorrow! There's a 4th of July picnic this Friday somewhere in San Jose. Eric was telling us about it today. It sounds like all the gringos get together and celebrate, so I'm looking forward to it.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Soy horrible.
Buenos!
I went to an interview with Luis Diego yesterday. It was great, but I couldn't understand a word. I spent the rest of the afternoon transcribing Marilyn's endless interviews from Sweden. It's actually getting pretty interesting. There are studies on social networking that have been going on for the last ten years. From the CEOs and VPs of Ericsson, the future in mobile technology looks like this: television expanding and leaving the home, entering our mobile phones and other physical environments more than they ever have before. Broadband becoming as common as radio, television, and mobile phones. Social networking expanding more and more, but only if advertisers and social networking Web sites can find a way to advertise contextually and without offending network users. See: the demise of MySpace. Observe: the current (but everchanging) popularity of Facebook. Tell me I'm not the only one who has noticed the increased applications on Facebook, like notes, fan pages and other not-so-quiet methods of getting your words out there. And those small advertisements on the right side of the page? The future of advertising: tailoring the messages you receive based on your personal interests. Less intrusive and annoying? Maybe. Slightly creepy? Definitely. We are products of the 21st century, and I'm afraid there is no turning back. I'll probably post more on this later.
Rain prevented me from leaving the house for dance class Tuesday night. The guest speaker I was going to see last night canceled at the last minute, so I came straight home after work. Karen, our neighbor Mitzi, Natalie, Amy and I went to Pop's with Juan Carlos. I love that place. I could go every day. Brownie Dinamite, por favor!
Today, I didn't have to go in to work. I slept in until 8:30am. It was glorious. Amy and I went to the gym (no air conditioning! No me cae bien!) and to Las Lenitas for lunch. I ate the best quesadillas I've ever had in my life. The guacamole wasn't bad, either.
In the afternoon, Amy and I played fútbol with Brandon and his friend, Joan (Joe-On). Yes, I played soccer. I'll repeat that one more time...I played soccer, in front of the house, which just so happens to be made out of concrete, not grass. Brandon and I played against Amy and Joan. Latin Americans are so talented. Joan practically made a third teammate out of the concrete house wall. It was exhilarating. Then it started to rain, and that made it even more exciting. I won't tell you the final score, because I lost that badly, but I did make two goals. Ole!
In the past few days, I have made the worst speaking mistakes when I am tired. The other day, I said, "Nos comemos" instead of "No comemos" at the dinner table. We eat ourselves. Juan Carlos and Patri couldn't stop laughing.
Then, at work, I said, "Tengo dueño" instead of "Tengo sueño." Literally, I said I have an owner, but most people here use it to say they are taken, by a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife. I meant to say I'm tired!
Last night, I found a baby cockroach in my room. Well, I have a live-in terminator. I shouted to Juan Carlos, "Juanca, venga! Hay una cuchara! Una cuchara en mi cuarto!" There's a spoon in my room? Try cucaracha.
Today, while playing soccer, I told the boys, "Soy horrible." I am really, really bad at sports. Ask anyone I know. Karen later tells me that horrible is the equivalent to hideous. What I should have said was, "Soy muy muy mala con los deportes." I have so much work to do.
This afternoon, Patri, Juan Carlos and Karen put loud Latin music on. We spent two hours dancing around the living room. It was adorable. Karen and Juan Carlos won a father/daughter competition together a few years ago, and Patri obviously knows how to move. Amy and I had so much fun, following their steps and trying to move like they did (FYI - you can try, but you can never move like a Tico). We taught them the electric slide. I know it can't compare to salsa and reggae, but it was all I had to give.
Tonight, we're going to make a significant effort to finally make it to dance class. There are clear skies right now. Let's hope we actually go this time...
Word has just reached me that Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett have both passed away. I suppose Michael Jackson was already an idol; now, he will stand as legend.
Pura Vida,
Lauren
I went to an interview with Luis Diego yesterday. It was great, but I couldn't understand a word. I spent the rest of the afternoon transcribing Marilyn's endless interviews from Sweden. It's actually getting pretty interesting. There are studies on social networking that have been going on for the last ten years. From the CEOs and VPs of Ericsson, the future in mobile technology looks like this: television expanding and leaving the home, entering our mobile phones and other physical environments more than they ever have before. Broadband becoming as common as radio, television, and mobile phones. Social networking expanding more and more, but only if advertisers and social networking Web sites can find a way to advertise contextually and without offending network users. See: the demise of MySpace. Observe: the current (but everchanging) popularity of Facebook. Tell me I'm not the only one who has noticed the increased applications on Facebook, like notes, fan pages and other not-so-quiet methods of getting your words out there. And those small advertisements on the right side of the page? The future of advertising: tailoring the messages you receive based on your personal interests. Less intrusive and annoying? Maybe. Slightly creepy? Definitely. We are products of the 21st century, and I'm afraid there is no turning back. I'll probably post more on this later.
Rain prevented me from leaving the house for dance class Tuesday night. The guest speaker I was going to see last night canceled at the last minute, so I came straight home after work. Karen, our neighbor Mitzi, Natalie, Amy and I went to Pop's with Juan Carlos. I love that place. I could go every day. Brownie Dinamite, por favor!
Today, I didn't have to go in to work. I slept in until 8:30am. It was glorious. Amy and I went to the gym (no air conditioning! No me cae bien!) and to Las Lenitas for lunch. I ate the best quesadillas I've ever had in my life. The guacamole wasn't bad, either.
In the afternoon, Amy and I played fútbol with Brandon and his friend, Joan (Joe-On). Yes, I played soccer. I'll repeat that one more time...I played soccer, in front of the house, which just so happens to be made out of concrete, not grass. Brandon and I played against Amy and Joan. Latin Americans are so talented. Joan practically made a third teammate out of the concrete house wall. It was exhilarating. Then it started to rain, and that made it even more exciting. I won't tell you the final score, because I lost that badly, but I did make two goals. Ole!
In the past few days, I have made the worst speaking mistakes when I am tired. The other day, I said, "Nos comemos" instead of "No comemos" at the dinner table. We eat ourselves. Juan Carlos and Patri couldn't stop laughing.
Then, at work, I said, "Tengo dueño" instead of "Tengo sueño." Literally, I said I have an owner, but most people here use it to say they are taken, by a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife. I meant to say I'm tired!
Last night, I found a baby cockroach in my room. Well, I have a live-in terminator. I shouted to Juan Carlos, "Juanca, venga! Hay una cuchara! Una cuchara en mi cuarto!" There's a spoon in my room? Try cucaracha.
Today, while playing soccer, I told the boys, "Soy horrible." I am really, really bad at sports. Ask anyone I know. Karen later tells me that horrible is the equivalent to hideous. What I should have said was, "Soy muy muy mala con los deportes." I have so much work to do.
This afternoon, Patri, Juan Carlos and Karen put loud Latin music on. We spent two hours dancing around the living room. It was adorable. Karen and Juan Carlos won a father/daughter competition together a few years ago, and Patri obviously knows how to move. Amy and I had so much fun, following their steps and trying to move like they did (FYI - you can try, but you can never move like a Tico). We taught them the electric slide. I know it can't compare to salsa and reggae, but it was all I had to give.
Tonight, we're going to make a significant effort to finally make it to dance class. There are clear skies right now. Let's hope we actually go this time...
Word has just reached me that Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett have both passed away. I suppose Michael Jackson was already an idol; now, he will stand as legend.
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Hoy por mí, mañana por ti.
I just accidentally deleted this entire post. I will try to reproduce it, but it will never be as good. I hate technology sometimes.
Random things in San José today:
- I was startled when a man on the bus grabbed my elbow. All he wanted to do was give up his seat so I could take it. Hello, paranoia.
- Two Ticans speaking in sign language. Spanish sign language, that is. ASL (American Sign Language) is only one of many different sign languages spoken all over the world.
- The first man I've seen over 5'11". He was a gringo from the United States. I don't know if it's the starchy diet or all of the coffee here, but no one is tall. I have never seen any locals over six feet.
- A man without an arm sprinting across the street and almost getting hit by a bus. All I was thinking was, "You almost just lost your other arm."
- The first redhead I've seen in Costa Rica (a welcomed change from the usual shades of brown).
- A homeless man missing an eye, chanting, "Hoy por mí, mañana por ti" over and over. I'd say it's a pretty convincing slogan, if you're into the whole kharma philosophy.
- Graffiti: "Lenin VIVE." I got a kick out of that one.
- An ambulance blaring its sirens while the surrounding traffic did absolutely nothing to get out of the way.
In my short time here, I've realized that Costa Rica does not cater to people with physical disabilities. I can't even make it two blocks without tripping on the uneven, cobbled sidewalk; I can only imagine someone in a wheelchair trying to navigate the streets. There are no ramps, safety bars or braille anywhere in the city. The speaker I heard last week walks with two crutches, and he said that he sometimes must be carried into his business conferences for lack of disability-friendly entrances. I know that Costa Rica might not be as developed as other countries, but I think this is an issue worth looking into. Maybe Costa Rica can adapt some version of the American Disabilities Act. Health care here is relatively well established, and that means an older population. C'mon, Costa Rica, do the math.
Speaking of math...I'm going to dance class tonight! One, two, cha cha cha...
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Random things in San José today:
- I was startled when a man on the bus grabbed my elbow. All he wanted to do was give up his seat so I could take it. Hello, paranoia.
- Two Ticans speaking in sign language. Spanish sign language, that is. ASL (American Sign Language) is only one of many different sign languages spoken all over the world.
- The first man I've seen over 5'11". He was a gringo from the United States. I don't know if it's the starchy diet or all of the coffee here, but no one is tall. I have never seen any locals over six feet.
- A man without an arm sprinting across the street and almost getting hit by a bus. All I was thinking was, "You almost just lost your other arm."
- The first redhead I've seen in Costa Rica (a welcomed change from the usual shades of brown).
- A homeless man missing an eye, chanting, "Hoy por mí, mañana por ti" over and over. I'd say it's a pretty convincing slogan, if you're into the whole kharma philosophy.
- Graffiti: "Lenin VIVE." I got a kick out of that one.
- An ambulance blaring its sirens while the surrounding traffic did absolutely nothing to get out of the way.
In my short time here, I've realized that Costa Rica does not cater to people with physical disabilities. I can't even make it two blocks without tripping on the uneven, cobbled sidewalk; I can only imagine someone in a wheelchair trying to navigate the streets. There are no ramps, safety bars or braille anywhere in the city. The speaker I heard last week walks with two crutches, and he said that he sometimes must be carried into his business conferences for lack of disability-friendly entrances. I know that Costa Rica might not be as developed as other countries, but I think this is an issue worth looking into. Maybe Costa Rica can adapt some version of the American Disabilities Act. Health care here is relatively well established, and that means an older population. C'mon, Costa Rica, do the math.
Speaking of math...I'm going to dance class tonight! One, two, cha cha cha...
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Monday, June 22, 2009
Ver/Mirar/Buscar
I overslept today. It was the greatest thing, because even though I was 20 minutes late, I was still only the third person to get to work! Love Tico time.
I realized on my bus commute why I keep getting sick. Public transportation is a germfest. I had to stand up because there weren't any seats left, and I realized how many people touch the metal bars I hold on to. As soon as I thought about it, the man standing behind me coughed up a lung on my back. Needless to say, I washed my hands a million times today. I need to buy hand sanitizer. Maybe I should develop some obsessive compulsive disorder tendencies. Or maybe I already have them. I think it's justifiable; la gripe is getting old.
I tried to transcribe an interview in Spanish this morning, but it was way too fast for me. Cesar even downloaded a program called VirtualDJ to slow down the words. I couldn't understand anything. I have so much to learn.
Luis Diego and I picked up lunch at KFC. I know, I know...disgusting. I don't even remember the last time I ate KFC in the United States. In Costa Rica, fast food is considered upper class. My lunch was the equivalent of about $4, which is not cheap by these standards. Everyone here loves KFC, Burger King and McDonald's. Keh Effeh Seh. Ha. Ticans like Taco Bell, too, even though Tican food is so much better than any Cheesy Gordita Crunch.
After lunch, I researched and wrote about two upcoming movies to put in the August issue. Movies come out later here. Angeles y Demonios is out with subtitles. The Hangover hasn't come out yet here.
Luis Diego was going to let me leave early for the day, but Marilyn skyped me from Sweden and asked me to transcribe an interview for her. Isn't technology crazy? She sent the audio of an interview with the mayor of Stockholm, Sweden. It was very hard to understand her English. I was so frustrated with her broken speech, until I realized that the way she speaks English is exactly how I speak Spanish. She kept using crutch phrases, like "as you can see," and "for this reason." I do the same thing in Spanish! I stick to the few words and tenses that I know will work. I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. I've hit a Spanish plateau.
When I got home, Amy was helping Patri cook dinner. Las cebollas always make my eyes water. Brandon, Amy and I proceeded to chase each other around the house for a solid 30 minutes. He is just like my little brother, David. They're annoying and obnoxious, but you can't help but love them. Brandon purposely speaks as fast as possible so that Amy and I can't understand, so we started speaking to him in English. It was a great dialogue. I wish I recorded it.
Jose David wanted another English lesson today, so Amy and I tried to help him read the first page of Amy's book, My Sister's Keeper. Teaching is challenging. I spent 10 minutes explaining the differences between the verbs ver, mirar and buscar in English. To see, to look at and to look for are different. Jose David understands this in Spanish but not in English. My mom always tells me I would be a good teacher, but it requires a lot of patience.
One of our neighbors is a lovely old woman who has the cutest grandson in the world, Santiago. I don't know if I've written about him before, but he loves Patri. She babysat him when he was a baby. Now he is two years old, and he only talks to Patri when he is here. If you say, "Patri es mia," (Patri is mine), Santi will say, "No. Patri es MIO." No, Patri is mine. That's all he says! He is adorable. Today, Patri told me that the woman's husband recently committed suicide. It was in the newspaper. Apparently, he took a gun to his own head while driving and was discovered after he crashed on the side of the road. It's funny how I pass this woman every day and say hello without another thought. She and I make small talk on a regular basis. She stops by and takes a plate of food for dinner sometimes. She speaks slowly for me so I can understand, and she corrects my mistakes without making me feel small or stupid. You don't realize that everyone has a past, a story, a life beyond a friendly exchange of words. I want to know about people.
The more I learn about my family, the more I love them. Dinner was another comedy routine in and of itself. Juan Carlos is a prankster. During dinner, I accidentally said "Nos comemos" instead of "No comemos." Everyone laughed at me! I've got to work on my skills. We eat ourselves instead of we don't eat. Oy vey. Karen, my Tica sister, told me that she likes me a lot. I feel so special. She told me to continue speaking in Spanish as much as I want, because she thinks I have a happy light around me and a kind spirit. At least that's what I think she said...
Now, Amy and I are watching Garden State. I'm going to go to bed early tonight and hopefully get over this bug I have.
Pura Vida,
Lauren
I realized on my bus commute why I keep getting sick. Public transportation is a germfest. I had to stand up because there weren't any seats left, and I realized how many people touch the metal bars I hold on to. As soon as I thought about it, the man standing behind me coughed up a lung on my back. Needless to say, I washed my hands a million times today. I need to buy hand sanitizer. Maybe I should develop some obsessive compulsive disorder tendencies. Or maybe I already have them. I think it's justifiable; la gripe is getting old.
I tried to transcribe an interview in Spanish this morning, but it was way too fast for me. Cesar even downloaded a program called VirtualDJ to slow down the words. I couldn't understand anything. I have so much to learn.
Luis Diego and I picked up lunch at KFC. I know, I know...disgusting. I don't even remember the last time I ate KFC in the United States. In Costa Rica, fast food is considered upper class. My lunch was the equivalent of about $4, which is not cheap by these standards. Everyone here loves KFC, Burger King and McDonald's. Keh Effeh Seh. Ha. Ticans like Taco Bell, too, even though Tican food is so much better than any Cheesy Gordita Crunch.
After lunch, I researched and wrote about two upcoming movies to put in the August issue. Movies come out later here. Angeles y Demonios is out with subtitles. The Hangover hasn't come out yet here.
Luis Diego was going to let me leave early for the day, but Marilyn skyped me from Sweden and asked me to transcribe an interview for her. Isn't technology crazy? She sent the audio of an interview with the mayor of Stockholm, Sweden. It was very hard to understand her English. I was so frustrated with her broken speech, until I realized that the way she speaks English is exactly how I speak Spanish. She kept using crutch phrases, like "as you can see," and "for this reason." I do the same thing in Spanish! I stick to the few words and tenses that I know will work. I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. I've hit a Spanish plateau.
When I got home, Amy was helping Patri cook dinner. Las cebollas always make my eyes water. Brandon, Amy and I proceeded to chase each other around the house for a solid 30 minutes. He is just like my little brother, David. They're annoying and obnoxious, but you can't help but love them. Brandon purposely speaks as fast as possible so that Amy and I can't understand, so we started speaking to him in English. It was a great dialogue. I wish I recorded it.
Jose David wanted another English lesson today, so Amy and I tried to help him read the first page of Amy's book, My Sister's Keeper. Teaching is challenging. I spent 10 minutes explaining the differences between the verbs ver, mirar and buscar in English. To see, to look at and to look for are different. Jose David understands this in Spanish but not in English. My mom always tells me I would be a good teacher, but it requires a lot of patience.
One of our neighbors is a lovely old woman who has the cutest grandson in the world, Santiago. I don't know if I've written about him before, but he loves Patri. She babysat him when he was a baby. Now he is two years old, and he only talks to Patri when he is here. If you say, "Patri es mia," (Patri is mine), Santi will say, "No. Patri es MIO." No, Patri is mine. That's all he says! He is adorable. Today, Patri told me that the woman's husband recently committed suicide. It was in the newspaper. Apparently, he took a gun to his own head while driving and was discovered after he crashed on the side of the road. It's funny how I pass this woman every day and say hello without another thought. She and I make small talk on a regular basis. She stops by and takes a plate of food for dinner sometimes. She speaks slowly for me so I can understand, and she corrects my mistakes without making me feel small or stupid. You don't realize that everyone has a past, a story, a life beyond a friendly exchange of words. I want to know about people.
The more I learn about my family, the more I love them. Dinner was another comedy routine in and of itself. Juan Carlos is a prankster. During dinner, I accidentally said "Nos comemos" instead of "No comemos." Everyone laughed at me! I've got to work on my skills. We eat ourselves instead of we don't eat. Oy vey. Karen, my Tica sister, told me that she likes me a lot. I feel so special. She told me to continue speaking in Spanish as much as I want, because she thinks I have a happy light around me and a kind spirit. At least that's what I think she said...
Now, Amy and I are watching Garden State. I'm going to go to bed early tonight and hopefully get over this bug I have.
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Cahuita
Latin Americans can dance, and I mean really dance.
I always knew this, but after experiencing a full weekend's worth of Latin and Caribbean music, I can finally appreciate it.
On Thursday night, the group attended a guest speaker event. The Costa Rican manager of Franklin Covey (I'm a horrible person; I already forgot his name) spoke in Spanish about his life and overcoming obstacles. He had over 100 surgeries in the span of two years as a child to allow arm movement. He walks with two crutches and has quite the success story.
After, Amy, Natalie and I headed downtown to Castro's, the infamous bar and club everyone recommends. We were a little early, so we started the evening with a little karaoke upstairs. Yes, we sang Spice Girls. Yes, we were awesome. No, we did not get any applause.
Later on, we went back downstairs. We didn't even go near the dance floor for the first hour. It was all Tican couples dancing the salsa, meringue and other types of dancing I had never even seen. There's no sense of personal space here, either. Everyone was just all over each other, with a little spice and a lot of rhythm.
We finally decided to brave the dance floor after more awkward tourists arrived to make us feel a little less inadequate. I love the music! The instruments, the beat, everything...I wish I could dance better, but I didn't care. We danced the night away. Eventually, the DJ started playing random hits, including everything from Grease to Journey to Beyonce. It was great. We met the most interesting people. One guy was half Tico and half British. He spent part of his life growing up in Switzerland (speaks English, Spanish, and French) and now attends University in Germany (learning German). Overall, it was the best night I've had in Costa Rica so far. We will definitely be going back.
On Friday, we went to lunch at Bagelman's. Bagelman's is the one and only place you can find bagels around these parts. It felt like home. After lunch, we went to Auto Mercado to buy snacks for the weekend. I found Goldfish and granola bars. Happiness!
Soon enough, it was time to leave for Cahuita. We gathered in the pouring rain at Veritas to catch our bus. After a long, scary, tedious journey through the storm, we arrived at Chalet Hibiscus in Cahuita. We had an entire beach house to ourselves, complete with mosquito nets, hammocks and ONE bathroom. It was just how I pictured my Caribbean bungalow. The only problem was the distance from town. There was only one long dirt road, and we had a 25 minute walk from our lodging to get anywhere.
We managed to find a taxi into town for dinner, but we were not as lucky after we ate. We started walking home, and within five minutes, the rain started up again. Oh, and of course I wore a sheer white blouse. It was exciting to run around in the rain for 10 minutes, but it got old quickly. We were drenched. We stopped at a little reggae bar on the side of the road to take a break, but the locals didn't exactly go well with my soaked clothing, if you know what I mean.
Sleeping with mosquito nets is creepy. You feel a little claustrophobic under there. There were fans in our room to keep us cool, though, so we slept peacefully. On Saturday, I woke up to the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the black volcanic rock outside our house. I was in paradise.
All eight of us ate breakfast at a local restaurant. It took an hour and a half for our food to come out, so the owner of the restaurant told us that if we came back for dinner, he would give us free drinks. The food was delicious, so we decided to go back that night.
We spent the day at Playa Negra, relaxing on the black sand beach and swimming in the Caribbean. The water was warm, and the beach was deserted except for a few locals here and there. I could have been there all day. It was so beautiful. Evan rented a surf board, but no one managed to get up. We bought hot empanadas from an old woman, too. Later, we went back to our chalet/bungalow/house and relaxed in the pool until dinnertime.
We went back to the same restaurant for dinner and enjoyed our complimentary fruit drinks. Sam and Jeremy, two people from my program, got sick during dinner. They were both sunburnt and dehydrated. I felt bad for them; they were both helpful when I was sick last weekend, so I tried to help, but there wasn't much I could do for them. After dinner, they went home and the rest of us went to the only bar/club in Cahuita, Coco's. There was a live band and lots of locals.
Cahuita is a tiny town on the Caribbean. The people who live there speak a weird mixture of English, Spanish and some Jamaican-style dialect. Everyone rides bicycles, and drug trafficking is rampant. It's not the safest area, but everyone we met was friendly. The heat and humidity were almost unbearable, but the town was adorable. It was so tropical!
This morning, Natalie and I bought some banana bread at the supermercado and ate it by the sea. I wish I had the beach in my backyard every day. We saw a sloth in the trees. I tried to take pictures, but they didn't come out very well. Everything I learned about the sloths in elementary school is true. They. are. so. slow. It. takes. them. forever. to. get. anywhere. All. they. do. is. eat.
When our bus finally arrived to take us home, the three girls who we had let share our private transportation (to lower costs) were sitting in the front seats. They sat in the front seats on Friday, and it wouldn't have been a big deal, but Amy re-injured her bad shoulder at the beach on Saturday. She's had shoulder problems for years, apparently, and to climb all the way to the back was cramped and difficult. I asked them politely if they wouldn't mind taking the back, and they gave me such a hard time. After a brief confrontation, two of them obliged. The third girl refused, but it was fine. Amy was able to sit in the front. I feel bad for her. She can't even move her right arm.
Today is Father's Day! Even though I had a great vacation, I was happy to return to my Tican home (cooler temperatures, cleaner facilities). The whole family had a delicious meal of something made of yuca. After dinner, Patri brought out photo albums. Brandon and Karen's baby pictures were so precious!
Back to the grind tomorrow. I think I'm going to go to a dance class this week!
Pura Vida,
Lauren
I always knew this, but after experiencing a full weekend's worth of Latin and Caribbean music, I can finally appreciate it.
On Thursday night, the group attended a guest speaker event. The Costa Rican manager of Franklin Covey (I'm a horrible person; I already forgot his name) spoke in Spanish about his life and overcoming obstacles. He had over 100 surgeries in the span of two years as a child to allow arm movement. He walks with two crutches and has quite the success story.
After, Amy, Natalie and I headed downtown to Castro's, the infamous bar and club everyone recommends. We were a little early, so we started the evening with a little karaoke upstairs. Yes, we sang Spice Girls. Yes, we were awesome. No, we did not get any applause.
Later on, we went back downstairs. We didn't even go near the dance floor for the first hour. It was all Tican couples dancing the salsa, meringue and other types of dancing I had never even seen. There's no sense of personal space here, either. Everyone was just all over each other, with a little spice and a lot of rhythm.
We finally decided to brave the dance floor after more awkward tourists arrived to make us feel a little less inadequate. I love the music! The instruments, the beat, everything...I wish I could dance better, but I didn't care. We danced the night away. Eventually, the DJ started playing random hits, including everything from Grease to Journey to Beyonce. It was great. We met the most interesting people. One guy was half Tico and half British. He spent part of his life growing up in Switzerland (speaks English, Spanish, and French) and now attends University in Germany (learning German). Overall, it was the best night I've had in Costa Rica so far. We will definitely be going back.
On Friday, we went to lunch at Bagelman's. Bagelman's is the one and only place you can find bagels around these parts. It felt like home. After lunch, we went to Auto Mercado to buy snacks for the weekend. I found Goldfish and granola bars. Happiness!
Soon enough, it was time to leave for Cahuita. We gathered in the pouring rain at Veritas to catch our bus. After a long, scary, tedious journey through the storm, we arrived at Chalet Hibiscus in Cahuita. We had an entire beach house to ourselves, complete with mosquito nets, hammocks and ONE bathroom. It was just how I pictured my Caribbean bungalow. The only problem was the distance from town. There was only one long dirt road, and we had a 25 minute walk from our lodging to get anywhere.
We managed to find a taxi into town for dinner, but we were not as lucky after we ate. We started walking home, and within five minutes, the rain started up again. Oh, and of course I wore a sheer white blouse. It was exciting to run around in the rain for 10 minutes, but it got old quickly. We were drenched. We stopped at a little reggae bar on the side of the road to take a break, but the locals didn't exactly go well with my soaked clothing, if you know what I mean.
Sleeping with mosquito nets is creepy. You feel a little claustrophobic under there. There were fans in our room to keep us cool, though, so we slept peacefully. On Saturday, I woke up to the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the black volcanic rock outside our house. I was in paradise.
All eight of us ate breakfast at a local restaurant. It took an hour and a half for our food to come out, so the owner of the restaurant told us that if we came back for dinner, he would give us free drinks. The food was delicious, so we decided to go back that night.
We spent the day at Playa Negra, relaxing on the black sand beach and swimming in the Caribbean. The water was warm, and the beach was deserted except for a few locals here and there. I could have been there all day. It was so beautiful. Evan rented a surf board, but no one managed to get up. We bought hot empanadas from an old woman, too. Later, we went back to our chalet/bungalow/house and relaxed in the pool until dinnertime.
We went back to the same restaurant for dinner and enjoyed our complimentary fruit drinks. Sam and Jeremy, two people from my program, got sick during dinner. They were both sunburnt and dehydrated. I felt bad for them; they were both helpful when I was sick last weekend, so I tried to help, but there wasn't much I could do for them. After dinner, they went home and the rest of us went to the only bar/club in Cahuita, Coco's. There was a live band and lots of locals.
Cahuita is a tiny town on the Caribbean. The people who live there speak a weird mixture of English, Spanish and some Jamaican-style dialect. Everyone rides bicycles, and drug trafficking is rampant. It's not the safest area, but everyone we met was friendly. The heat and humidity were almost unbearable, but the town was adorable. It was so tropical!
This morning, Natalie and I bought some banana bread at the supermercado and ate it by the sea. I wish I had the beach in my backyard every day. We saw a sloth in the trees. I tried to take pictures, but they didn't come out very well. Everything I learned about the sloths in elementary school is true. They. are. so. slow. It. takes. them. forever. to. get. anywhere. All. they. do. is. eat.
When our bus finally arrived to take us home, the three girls who we had let share our private transportation (to lower costs) were sitting in the front seats. They sat in the front seats on Friday, and it wouldn't have been a big deal, but Amy re-injured her bad shoulder at the beach on Saturday. She's had shoulder problems for years, apparently, and to climb all the way to the back was cramped and difficult. I asked them politely if they wouldn't mind taking the back, and they gave me such a hard time. After a brief confrontation, two of them obliged. The third girl refused, but it was fine. Amy was able to sit in the front. I feel bad for her. She can't even move her right arm.
Today is Father's Day! Even though I had a great vacation, I was happy to return to my Tican home (cooler temperatures, cleaner facilities). The whole family had a delicious meal of something made of yuca. After dinner, Patri brought out photo albums. Brandon and Karen's baby pictures were so precious!
Back to the grind tomorrow. I think I'm going to go to a dance class this week!
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The Beach House
Last night, Amy and I went on an adventure with Jose David and Marco (the two cousins who live with us) for a late night snack. They are great company. All Jose David wants to do is learn English, and all Marco wants to do is pretend he doesn't understand as much English as he really does. He's picked up on a lot of our girly gossip that way.
We spent the rest of the night trying to teach Jose David English. I forgot how difficult of a language it is. We break all of our rules. I tried teaching Brandon how to convert the metric system to our system so he could calculate how tall he is. He's 5'7", if you were wondering.
I woke up in the middle of the night sick again. It's getting tiresome, but Patri made me my special tea and a hot vegetable soup. I spent the morning between the bathroom and the bedroom, but I finally feel a lot better. I met up with Amy and Natalie for lunch at a local outdoor restaurant. I can't remember the name right now, but they have guacamole (translation: I will be going back).
Afterwards, Amy, Natalie and I went exploring in Zapote. I feel like I'm starting to gain a better sense of my surroundings, which I love. We found Pali, a little discount supermarket, and bought some snacks for our weekend getaway. We had fun dancing up and down the aisles while Latin music played (similar to elevator music, but so much better!). I do miss Publix, though. There's a market here called Auto Mercado that brings in a lot of food from the United States. I want to go there soon. I miss peanut butter and regularly sized apples and baby carrots and...I'll stop there.
It's been pouring all afternoon, so I took advantage of my downtime and finished the book I've been reading every night. The Beach House, by Georgia Brockoven, is about four different families who rent/live in the same beach house different months out of the year. It was a little corny and highly predictable, but it kept me interested until the picture perfect ending. I recommend it if you're looking for an easy mindless read.
Tonight, we have some sort of planned event at a hotel. I think it's just dinner and a guest speaker, but I'm not looking forward to venturing out in this weather. Amy mentioned possibly checking out the downtown nightlife afterward. We've been meaning to go to Castro's since we got here. Castro's has a reputation for great ambiance and even better dancing. I want to go!
Patri was telling us today how a friend of hers just had breast implants and liposuction. Joaquin was telling me that more and more people from the United States have been coming to Costa Rica for plastic surgery and other medical treatments. Apparently, the medical care is the same quality, but the costs are much less. Piercings and tattoos are also significantly less here ($5 for any hole in your ear). It's almost too cheap to resist...just kidding! Kind of.
Tomorrow we are going to Cahuita, a tiny Carribean beach town in Limon. I am so excited! We're staying in our own little beach house that's really more like a bungalow, and going to the beach to snorkel and swim. We booked our own bus to chauffeur us around for the whole weekend, too. I'm praying for good weather.
Off to hail a cab into the city...
Pura Vida,
Lauren
We spent the rest of the night trying to teach Jose David English. I forgot how difficult of a language it is. We break all of our rules. I tried teaching Brandon how to convert the metric system to our system so he could calculate how tall he is. He's 5'7", if you were wondering.
I woke up in the middle of the night sick again. It's getting tiresome, but Patri made me my special tea and a hot vegetable soup. I spent the morning between the bathroom and the bedroom, but I finally feel a lot better. I met up with Amy and Natalie for lunch at a local outdoor restaurant. I can't remember the name right now, but they have guacamole (translation: I will be going back).
Afterwards, Amy, Natalie and I went exploring in Zapote. I feel like I'm starting to gain a better sense of my surroundings, which I love. We found Pali, a little discount supermarket, and bought some snacks for our weekend getaway. We had fun dancing up and down the aisles while Latin music played (similar to elevator music, but so much better!). I do miss Publix, though. There's a market here called Auto Mercado that brings in a lot of food from the United States. I want to go there soon. I miss peanut butter and regularly sized apples and baby carrots and...I'll stop there.
It's been pouring all afternoon, so I took advantage of my downtime and finished the book I've been reading every night. The Beach House, by Georgia Brockoven, is about four different families who rent/live in the same beach house different months out of the year. It was a little corny and highly predictable, but it kept me interested until the picture perfect ending. I recommend it if you're looking for an easy mindless read.
Tonight, we have some sort of planned event at a hotel. I think it's just dinner and a guest speaker, but I'm not looking forward to venturing out in this weather. Amy mentioned possibly checking out the downtown nightlife afterward. We've been meaning to go to Castro's since we got here. Castro's has a reputation for great ambiance and even better dancing. I want to go!
Patri was telling us today how a friend of hers just had breast implants and liposuction. Joaquin was telling me that more and more people from the United States have been coming to Costa Rica for plastic surgery and other medical treatments. Apparently, the medical care is the same quality, but the costs are much less. Piercings and tattoos are also significantly less here ($5 for any hole in your ear). It's almost too cheap to resist...just kidding! Kind of.
Tomorrow we are going to Cahuita, a tiny Carribean beach town in Limon. I am so excited! We're staying in our own little beach house that's really more like a bungalow, and going to the beach to snorkel and swim. We booked our own bus to chauffeur us around for the whole weekend, too. I'm praying for good weather.
Off to hail a cab into the city...
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Avalancha caen del volcán Arenal
I went to el Teatro Nacional anoche! We dressed ourselves up and took a taxi into the middle of San José to meet our group in front of the historic building. The architecture is incredible. There were ancient statues and carved detailing inside and outside. The ceilings and walls were painted with figures remniscient of the Roman era. I tried to take a few pictures, but camera flashes aren't allowed.
We had box seats (translation: I felt cool). The theatre was lovely, complete with gold trimming and plush red cushion seats. It was a full house with no air conditioning, but I hardly noticed the temperature once the show started. The show, called "Por los trillos," was about the seven provinces in Costa Rica and their ancient traditions. I didn't understand most of the words, but I made up my own and enjoyed watching. Here is my analysis:
Set - fabulous
Music - good
Acting - mediocre
Singing - mediocre
Costumes - fabulous
I'd like to think I've been exposed to enough musical theatre to form knowledgeable opinions (Right, Jess?).
After the show and a brief photo session, we headed to News Café for a late night snack. Karol brought her mother and aunt to the show. I talked to her mom the whole time about her business selling fresh lunches to children at a local elementary school. She was so interesting, and she spoke clearly so I could understand. I love that.
News Café also had the first cloth napkins I've seen since my arrival. Everywhere else I've been has the same paper napkins, small, flimsy rectangles that last about a minute. I'm not a messy eater (ask my mother!), and I go through a stack of six or seven every meal. They're too thin. I think if Costa Rica invested in thicker napkins, they could save so many trees (or napkins). I should speak to someone about that.
I woke up this morning to the sounds of dogs barking, roosters crowing, and Patri doing laundry. I don't know what kind of washer she has, but it sounds like a drill. I am not kidding. A drill, drilling into concrete, woke me up at 6:30am. And I thought my alarm was obnoxious...
Today, Marilyn and Luis Diego took me out to lunch (compliments of Summa - gracias!). We went to a restaurant called Casa Conde. I wish I had brought my camera. There were colorful murals and lush green vines covering the walls, and we ate outside next to a deep blue piscina. Two old men sitting at the table next to us were wearing New York Yankee T-shirts and speaking with thick Long Island accents. It was so strange to hear!
The buffet was delicious, of course. I ate barbecued chicken breast and salad: my first real meal since Saturday! I'm hoping I don't regret it.
I picked up the local newspaper, La Nación, when we returned to Summa, only to discover this headline: Avalancha caen del volcán Arenal. Um, HELLO - that is where we went last weekend. Volcan Arenal had an avalanche yesterday. The entire surrounding area had to evacuate. The pictures are ridiculous. I'm still in shock reading the article. My group was just there on Sunday! Luis Diego wasn't even phased by this. It is the second most active volcano in the world, apparently. No big deal...?!
Life in Costa Rica seems to be like life in the 90s in the United States. I have not seen any car newer than 1997, and the radio is still as popular as ever (just AM/FM, not Sirius). On the way to lunch, we passed five pay phone booths. All of them were being used. I had actually forgotten about pay phones. I know that's awful, but it's true. During Orientation, Eric had given each us his phone number with instructions to never leave our homes without it. I remember thinking, It doesn't matter whether we have your phone number or not, because without our cell phones, we won't be able to call you. Sure, I have no common sense, but who really uses phone booths in the States anymore?
Speaking of the past, men here always let women go first. Always. Through doors, up stairs, on the bus...it's very old-fashioned, but I don't mind it. It goes along with the Spanish language. Manners are everywhere. Don, Doña, por favor, Usted. It's all about respect.
Now, I'm researching the CEO of Ericsson (as in Sony Ericsson) and the CEO of Volvo for next month's magazine. Marilyn is traveling to Sweden on Saturday for a week to interview various top executives from Ericsson. Que tuanis!
Signing off for now...my internet connection here is tan lento.
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
On the job...
Bad news: I'm not going to be in the July issue of Revista Summa. The Colombian office found a better photograph for the article. I'm sad.
This morning, I wrote an article in Spanish about Monica Araya, a businesswoman in Costa Rica who works with exporting and trade. All of this Spanish is exhausting, but I suppose I'm learning a lot.
It turns out that Marilyn and I have the same virus. She ate sushi last night (um, HELLO - mistake) and proceeded to throw up two times. Cesar made a sign that says, "CUARENTENA. PELIGRO" with the toxic symbol and a skull and crossbones. Quarantined. Danger! He hung it on the door to our office. Very funny, but also potentially true. If this bug is contagious, I could have spread it all over San José by now.
There is a Tican who works here named Rafa. I think he would be fired for the things he says if he lived in the United States (sexual harrassment!), but here everyone just laughs at him. He likes to creep in quietly and then shout, scaring anyone in the vicinity half to death. He uses inappropriate English and Spanish words constantly. I have a feeling the office only keeps him around for entertainment value. At lunch today, he was trying to talk to me, but I didn't understand. Then everyone laughed at his inappropriate comment, while I sat there completely lost. That is something I get annoyed with. The language barrier often forces me out of rapid conversation. I put in good daydreaming time, though.
Ugh - Rafa just came in and spooked me again. I really don't like it. I jump every time.
After a delicious lunch of Cup of Noodles, I edited the article I wrote about Philip Kotler. I found a few of Luis Diego's mistakes. He spelled Evanston (as in Illinois) wrong! FACT ERROR. He also translated a few sentences incorrectly. I wish I was getting credit for my work. Life as an intern, verdad?
Marilyn and Luis Diego just had a two hour editorial meeting, during which time I had nothing to do but talk to other women in the office. I found out the best Web site to go to for cinemas here in Costa Rica. I also received a list of the most famous poets here, whose poems I must read for educational value. They say it will increase my vocabulary. I agree, but I feel like I'm doing enough translating trying to communicate all day!
I'm not as busy as I'd like to be today, but it's okay. Tonight I am going to the theatre!
Ciao!
Monday, June 15, 2009
"Mindi, you know I don't speak Spanish!"
I love my Tico brother, Brandon (or Brando). This morning, while I was getting ready for work, Brandon poked his head out of his bedroom and shoved a paper into my hands. I realized it was a test he failed at school (27/50 - que malo!). An English test! It was so elementary...pictures of body parts that he was supposed to label correctly. I told him I could help him with English anytime, but he just laughed. He is definitely un bichito - a total prankster. Patri yells at him because he spends all of his time playing computer games. Such a badass.
I was on time for work today. Translation: I was the first one there. I didn't get an assignment until about 9:30am because my bosses had an editorial meeting. I could have slept in!
Later, Cesar needed a picture of someone reading a specific newspaper for an article. Guess who he decided to shoot? Yep! I will be in the July issue of Revista Summa, looking quite intellectual, I might add. I'm going to be famous in Latin America. Don't worry, I'll bring back enough copies for North America, too. Que chiva! It made my day.
I found Cup Of Noodles at the Tican equivalent of Wal-Mart (Mas x Menos) during my lunch hour. It's all I could really stomach for lunch. It reminded me of camp, which I believe started on Sunday. I wonder how it's going...
After lunch, I was doing some research for the next month's issue, when I made my first mistake, politically speaking. Luis Diego asked me to collect a list of all of the airports and boat ports in all of Central America and the Dominican Republic. I collected all of the airport information first, for Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras (Belize is geographically considered Central America, but the country associates more with the Caribbean Islands and does not work with Revista Summa). When I searched for Central American boat ports, the first Web site I found included Mexico in its Central American list. This seemed weird to me, so I turned to my boss, Marilyn, and asked her if Mexico was included in Central America. Mistake! She went on a tirade about how gringas can be so ignorant and how people from the United States think they are the only Americans. Mexico is part of North American, along with the United States and Canada, if you didn't already figure that out. I totally knew that! She wasn't actually mad at me; she was just shocked that I asked her that question. I was so upset. I showed her the Web site and tried to explain. I kept saying, "I understand! I understand. We're all American!" It was humiliating.
After work, I was rushing to the bus stop when I heard catcalls from a group of older men. Costa Rican people consider this normal. Men whistling at women as they passed isn't respected or condoned; it just is what it is. I don't like it, obviously. I wore a dress today, but most women wear pants. I won't be wearing a dress into the city again. I felt very uncomfortable.
Did I mention that bus drivers here get mad if you linger on the stairs onto the bus? You either wait outside or stand on the top step. They hate the inbetween. I like to put the exact amount of change in my hand before I even leave the office. That way, I don't have to awkwardly fumble for change in front of the driver while everyone is waiting. Bus drivers also hate it when you give them bills. The fare is usually 175 colones, and the smallest bill is 1000 colones. Heed my advice: always use your coins!
Patri made me my favorite tea for my stomach when I got home. She also did my laundry and made my bed. Ah, what a life. I ate some pasta with ground beef for dinner (My stomach is telling me that was a mistake), and then Natalie, Amy and I made Marco a Facebook account. What an eventful evening, right? It sounds boring, but there is always entertainment in this house.
David arrived in Jerusalem today, and Ila had her first day in corporate Burger King (Ticans call it Bah-Keh here). Change, change, change. As much as I hate to say it, change can't be avoided. Ila might book a flight to San Jose and visit me for a weekend! This could be a disaster in the making...no. No, it will be great to see my sister. I miss familiar faces, even though I have adjusted to my sweet Tican lifestyle.
I'm looking forward to dressing up for el Teatro Nacional tomorrow night. Our group is going to see a show in our finest formalwear! Ah, que divertido!
Me encantan los Ticos.
Pura Vida (y buenos noches),
Lauren
I was on time for work today. Translation: I was the first one there. I didn't get an assignment until about 9:30am because my bosses had an editorial meeting. I could have slept in!
Later, Cesar needed a picture of someone reading a specific newspaper for an article. Guess who he decided to shoot? Yep! I will be in the July issue of Revista Summa, looking quite intellectual, I might add. I'm going to be famous in Latin America. Don't worry, I'll bring back enough copies for North America, too. Que chiva! It made my day.
I found Cup Of Noodles at the Tican equivalent of Wal-Mart (Mas x Menos) during my lunch hour. It's all I could really stomach for lunch. It reminded me of camp, which I believe started on Sunday. I wonder how it's going...
After lunch, I was doing some research for the next month's issue, when I made my first mistake, politically speaking. Luis Diego asked me to collect a list of all of the airports and boat ports in all of Central America and the Dominican Republic. I collected all of the airport information first, for Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras (Belize is geographically considered Central America, but the country associates more with the Caribbean Islands and does not work with Revista Summa). When I searched for Central American boat ports, the first Web site I found included Mexico in its Central American list. This seemed weird to me, so I turned to my boss, Marilyn, and asked her if Mexico was included in Central America. Mistake! She went on a tirade about how gringas can be so ignorant and how people from the United States think they are the only Americans. Mexico is part of North American, along with the United States and Canada, if you didn't already figure that out. I totally knew that! She wasn't actually mad at me; she was just shocked that I asked her that question. I was so upset. I showed her the Web site and tried to explain. I kept saying, "I understand! I understand. We're all American!" It was humiliating.
After work, I was rushing to the bus stop when I heard catcalls from a group of older men. Costa Rican people consider this normal. Men whistling at women as they passed isn't respected or condoned; it just is what it is. I don't like it, obviously. I wore a dress today, but most women wear pants. I won't be wearing a dress into the city again. I felt very uncomfortable.
Did I mention that bus drivers here get mad if you linger on the stairs onto the bus? You either wait outside or stand on the top step. They hate the inbetween. I like to put the exact amount of change in my hand before I even leave the office. That way, I don't have to awkwardly fumble for change in front of the driver while everyone is waiting. Bus drivers also hate it when you give them bills. The fare is usually 175 colones, and the smallest bill is 1000 colones. Heed my advice: always use your coins!
Patri made me my favorite tea for my stomach when I got home. She also did my laundry and made my bed. Ah, what a life. I ate some pasta with ground beef for dinner (My stomach is telling me that was a mistake), and then Natalie, Amy and I made Marco a Facebook account. What an eventful evening, right? It sounds boring, but there is always entertainment in this house.
David arrived in Jerusalem today, and Ila had her first day in corporate Burger King (Ticans call it Bah-Keh here). Change, change, change. As much as I hate to say it, change can't be avoided. Ila might book a flight to San Jose and visit me for a weekend! This could be a disaster in the making...no. No, it will be great to see my sister. I miss familiar faces, even though I have adjusted to my sweet Tican lifestyle.
I'm looking forward to dressing up for el Teatro Nacional tomorrow night. Our group is going to see a show in our finest formalwear! Ah, que divertido!
Me encantan los Ticos.
Pura Vida (y buenos noches),
Lauren
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Hamburger was a bad choice.
After work on Friday, I had plans to relax at home and pack for our weekend trip...but that didn't happen. Juanca and Patri invited us to go out dancing with them! How could I turn down a proposal like that?
Amy, Natalie, David and I packed into Juanca's car. We drove up into the mountains and picked up Patri's two cousins, Katya and Karen. They are...the equivalent of Latin cougars. Katya and Karen are both divorced. They wear clothes that are tighter than any clothing I have ever seen. The bar was filled with locals. Crazy Ticans were singing karaoke. Amy, Natalie and I sang Madonna's "Like A Virgin." Don't judge; it was the only English song they had. We stayed out until 2am (mistake). Katya and Karen sure know how to party. We dropped them off at another bar after we left! Crazy.
Our group embarked on our first weekend getaway early Saturday morning. The three and a half hour drive was absolutely breathtaking. The United States is so annoying. Costa Rica has acres and acres of untouched land. Everything was green. The bus was a nice perk, too. Air conditioning is a precious commodity these days.
Once we settled into our hotel, we ate lunch at a local restaurant. I was so happy to see an American hamburger on the menu. In retrospect, hamburger was a bad choice. After lunch, we went to the hot springs near the volcano. It was a major tourist trap, but there were about 20 pools of different temperatures. The afternoon was supposed to be relaxing, but after a couple hours, I became extremely ill. I won't go into detail (I don't feel it is necessary, as I am sure the horrible memories will stay with me for years to come), but it was awful. Karol, one of the directors, had to take me to an emergency clinic. I had a rough night, but I woke up feeling much better.
Because I was sick, I had to miss out on the hike to Volcan Arenal today. The volcano is beautiful (at least from a distance). It is still active. Smoke billows out of the peak regularly. I'm really upset about missing the hike, but I needed the extra time to recuperate. I had a little soup for lunch, and bought my first apple juice on our way home. I love apple juice, and I finally found it here! It cheered me up. Oh, the little things.
When Amy, Natalie and I returned home, Patri and Juan Carlos told us that their pet fish, Dory, had a baby over the weekend. I couldn't believe it. All of a sudden there was a baby fish swimming in the tank! I had no idea Dory was pregnant, and Patri had told us that she killed all of the other fish by accident. I was so confused! I kept asking them how it happened. After a solid five minutes, they finally told me they were kidding. They bought a new fish over the weekend. It was quite the scene. "No es posible!" We want to name the fish "Dorito," as in Little Dory. Get it?
Patri made me chicken noodle soup for dinner, and her daughter took me to the local pharmacy to get anti-nausea medication. In Costa Rica, every pharmacy has a doctor present. You don't need a prescription for drugs, and they provide whatever you need right on the spot. It's much more convenient than the United States. Don't get me started on health care here - another post for another day.
Long weekend + under the weather + work tomorrow = bedtime.
Amy, Natalie, David and I packed into Juanca's car. We drove up into the mountains and picked up Patri's two cousins, Katya and Karen. They are...the equivalent of Latin cougars. Katya and Karen are both divorced. They wear clothes that are tighter than any clothing I have ever seen. The bar was filled with locals. Crazy Ticans were singing karaoke. Amy, Natalie and I sang Madonna's "Like A Virgin." Don't judge; it was the only English song they had. We stayed out until 2am (mistake). Katya and Karen sure know how to party. We dropped them off at another bar after we left! Crazy.
Our group embarked on our first weekend getaway early Saturday morning. The three and a half hour drive was absolutely breathtaking. The United States is so annoying. Costa Rica has acres and acres of untouched land. Everything was green. The bus was a nice perk, too. Air conditioning is a precious commodity these days.
Once we settled into our hotel, we ate lunch at a local restaurant. I was so happy to see an American hamburger on the menu. In retrospect, hamburger was a bad choice. After lunch, we went to the hot springs near the volcano. It was a major tourist trap, but there were about 20 pools of different temperatures. The afternoon was supposed to be relaxing, but after a couple hours, I became extremely ill. I won't go into detail (I don't feel it is necessary, as I am sure the horrible memories will stay with me for years to come), but it was awful. Karol, one of the directors, had to take me to an emergency clinic. I had a rough night, but I woke up feeling much better.
Because I was sick, I had to miss out on the hike to Volcan Arenal today. The volcano is beautiful (at least from a distance). It is still active. Smoke billows out of the peak regularly. I'm really upset about missing the hike, but I needed the extra time to recuperate. I had a little soup for lunch, and bought my first apple juice on our way home. I love apple juice, and I finally found it here! It cheered me up. Oh, the little things.
When Amy, Natalie and I returned home, Patri and Juan Carlos told us that their pet fish, Dory, had a baby over the weekend. I couldn't believe it. All of a sudden there was a baby fish swimming in the tank! I had no idea Dory was pregnant, and Patri had told us that she killed all of the other fish by accident. I was so confused! I kept asking them how it happened. After a solid five minutes, they finally told me they were kidding. They bought a new fish over the weekend. It was quite the scene. "No es posible!" We want to name the fish "Dorito," as in Little Dory. Get it?
Patri made me chicken noodle soup for dinner, and her daughter took me to the local pharmacy to get anti-nausea medication. In Costa Rica, every pharmacy has a doctor present. You don't need a prescription for drugs, and they provide whatever you need right on the spot. It's much more convenient than the United States. Don't get me started on health care here - another post for another day.
Long weekend + under the weather + work tomorrow = bedtime.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Caminando por las calles
The party at Veritas last night was amusing. It was a giant gathering of awkward international and Tican students, along with a decent DJ and delicious food, of course. David taught me how to salsa, and I met the dance teacher at the school who insists I attend her next class. After the DJ left, a band played music with drums while dancers performed traditional salsa and merengue. Our group mostly stuck together, but I did have a decent conversation with two boys who recently graduated from Texas A&M. One of them told me that he had 25 interviews before he finally got a job. Gotta love the economy right now...not.
I forgot to mention that my host family has given me a nickname. The name is "Bichita." The exact translation is a small bicho, or bug, but the word has many meanings. I've been asking everyone I know for a decent explanation, and I think I've finally come to a conclusion. A bichita is a girl who seems sweet and innocent at first, but likes to tell jokes and tease her friends. The women at the office told me una bichita has spice, charm and attitude. It's not an insult or a compliment. I guess it's funny that my family calls me by a nickname. The son, Brandon, called me una hablacita yesterday (a girl who talks a lot). Ha. I think this name suits me more than bichita, pero no me importa.
This morning, I got on a different bus than usual. I usually take Zapote-Pista, but my host mom told me that Barrio Lujan goes to the same place in the center of San José. I sat down in an open seat, and at the next stop, an older woman got on the bus. She sat down behind me and tapped my shoulder. When I turned around, she simply said, ¨Hello.¨ I started to laugh. I am such a gringa, and it was clear that she wanted to use the one English word she knew. She was so proud of herself. I responded with, ¨Hello!¨and a smile. We tried to talk for a few minutes, but she spoke Spanish too quickly and quietly for me to understand.
Well, it turns out that Barrio Lujan has a different route. Barrio Lujan is a cheaper fare, and it goes in and around the surrounding area. I was already late by the time I got off in an unfamiliar part of San José. Getting lost seems to be my new hobby. I walked around for a few minutes, and finally I recognized the largest Catholic church in the city from our tour last weekend. I followed my instincts (my inner compass) and took a right turn. After five minutes, I found the main street in San José, Avenida Central. What a relief!
From there, it was easy to find my building. I was 25 minutes late, but my bosses laughed when I apologized profusely and tried to explain my tardiness. Half of the office wasn't even at work yet. Tico time = on time is early, 15 minutes late is on time, 30 minutes late is normal and an hour is late but no big deal. My sister would fit right in.
All morning, I edited pages for the July issue (in Spanish!). I had to find grammar mistakes, syntax errors, and misprinted fonts or sizes. I found a few problems, but I'm sure I missed most of them. For lunch, I went out with my co-workers to a fancy restaurant for Suzie's (Sue-see's) birthday. The Costa Rican Minister of Foreign Affairs was sitting two tables away from us with absolutely no security. Que chiva! The restaurant was relatively pricey, but my bill came out to roughly $5.30. I love Costa Rica.
After lunch, I finished editing the July issue. The manager's wife baked a cake for the birthday celebration, and the whole office crowded into my room to sing to Suzie and indulge in dessert. It was dangerously good...some kind of cake with sweet milk at the bottom. Now, I am waiting for Marilyn to finish her work and give me another assignment. Después, I'm going home (hopefully getting off at the right bus stop this time). It's the weekend!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Un poca enferma hoy
Last night was not a fun night. I have some sort of stomach virus, according to my house mom, but I think my body is just adjusting to my new Latin diet. Entonces, I called out sick today! I really hate doing that. It's only the third day. Pero, Eric said it was best that I call out. Marilyn was understanding, so I don't feel bad.
Patri and Juan Carlos made me drink special tea that is supposed to help with your stomach. I spent the morning reading and laying around on the couch. I talked to Jose David (one of the cousins) for a while about the differences between Tican college students and American college students. I don't think I understood any of the conversation, but he had a lot of questions. I hope I answered them...?
Amy gets to work from home a lot at her non-profit internship, so when she woke up, we hung out. Amy is absolutely hilarious. There is never a dull moment with her; hay chistes todo el tiempo.
Now Amy and I are in the office upstairs. It is pouring rain! Because it is the wet season here in Costa Rica, it rains almost daily. Tonight there is a fiesta for all students at Veritas. Tomorrow, it's back to work. Saturday, we're going to the Volcano Arenal!
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Patri and Juan Carlos made me drink special tea that is supposed to help with your stomach. I spent the morning reading and laying around on the couch. I talked to Jose David (one of the cousins) for a while about the differences between Tican college students and American college students. I don't think I understood any of the conversation, but he had a lot of questions. I hope I answered them...?
Amy gets to work from home a lot at her non-profit internship, so when she woke up, we hung out. Amy is absolutely hilarious. There is never a dull moment with her; hay chistes todo el tiempo.
Now Amy and I are in the office upstairs. It is pouring rain! Because it is the wet season here in Costa Rica, it rains almost daily. Tonight there is a fiesta for all students at Veritas. Tomorrow, it's back to work. Saturday, we're going to the Volcano Arenal!
Pura Vida,
Lauren
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Trials and Triumphs?
I missed bus stop on the way home today. My family suggested I take a different route because it would be shorter, but I didn't recognize anything so I passed my stop. I didn't realize it for 10 minutes. Once I finally got off, it was already dark and I had no idea where I was. I learned quickly that if you look scared, you become a target...so I pretended I knew where I was and walked with purpose until a taxi passed. It was scary, but I did it! The taxi driver took me back to Veritas. I ran into David, one of the boys in my program, and he made me feel a lot better. Every mistake is a learning experience, verdad?
Oh, I remembered more things about Tican life. Bathrooms. The toilet paper doesn't go in the toilet. I think I've clogged about three public restrooms now, solely because I forgot to put my toilet paper in the trash can. Also, everyone in my office brushes their teeth after lunch. If you don't, you're considered to have poor hygiene. Guess who is bringing a travel toothbrush to work tomorrow?
In Costa Rica, Tican pedestrians like to cross the street. In Costa Rica, Tican drivers like to drive quickly. Bad combination. Drivers DO NOT STOP for pedestrians. I'm serious. I almost got hit by a car this morning. It was an adrenaline rush, but I don't recommend trying it. Tican drivers also like to honk their horns. They honk when they're bored, they honk to say hello, they honk to tell you the light is green...all the time.
I also discovered that lines do exist in Costa Rica. People line the sidewalk while they wait for the bus, and you do not cut this line. Today while I was waiting for my bus (Zapote Pista), a homeless man camped out right next to me asking for money. Gringas are targets for homeless people and street vendors. It is clear that I am from another country. I wish I looked more like a local.
Taxi drivers also like to take advantage of foreigners. The second they hear your poor Spanish accent, they will tell you that they don't know where you live. Some drivers purposely take a longer route so they can charge you more than is necessary. Never sit in the front seat of a taxi, and always ask, "Tiene maria?" Do you have a meter? If they don't have a meter, do not get in the car. They'll rip you off.
After dinner, Natalie, Amy, Evan, David and I went to a local mall to see a movie. We couldn't find the movie theater, though, so we went to a bar instead. A woman at a table next to us was celebrating her birthday with her girlfriends. It was really cute and made me miss my friends at home. A lot of Tican women hold hands or link arms when they walk down the street. This also reminds me of my friends at camp. Que triste, pero ahorita estoy en Costa Rica!
Getting through two gates in the dark is a little complicated, but we managed after our evening adventure. Now I'm off to bed. Can't wait for my commute in the morning! Que tuanis! So cool!
Hasta luego,
Lauren
Oh, I remembered more things about Tican life. Bathrooms. The toilet paper doesn't go in the toilet. I think I've clogged about three public restrooms now, solely because I forgot to put my toilet paper in the trash can. Also, everyone in my office brushes their teeth after lunch. If you don't, you're considered to have poor hygiene. Guess who is bringing a travel toothbrush to work tomorrow?
In Costa Rica, Tican pedestrians like to cross the street. In Costa Rica, Tican drivers like to drive quickly. Bad combination. Drivers DO NOT STOP for pedestrians. I'm serious. I almost got hit by a car this morning. It was an adrenaline rush, but I don't recommend trying it. Tican drivers also like to honk their horns. They honk when they're bored, they honk to say hello, they honk to tell you the light is green...all the time.
I also discovered that lines do exist in Costa Rica. People line the sidewalk while they wait for the bus, and you do not cut this line. Today while I was waiting for my bus (Zapote Pista), a homeless man camped out right next to me asking for money. Gringas are targets for homeless people and street vendors. It is clear that I am from another country. I wish I looked more like a local.
Taxi drivers also like to take advantage of foreigners. The second they hear your poor Spanish accent, they will tell you that they don't know where you live. Some drivers purposely take a longer route so they can charge you more than is necessary. Never sit in the front seat of a taxi, and always ask, "Tiene maria?" Do you have a meter? If they don't have a meter, do not get in the car. They'll rip you off.
After dinner, Natalie, Amy, Evan, David and I went to a local mall to see a movie. We couldn't find the movie theater, though, so we went to a bar instead. A woman at a table next to us was celebrating her birthday with her girlfriends. It was really cute and made me miss my friends at home. A lot of Tican women hold hands or link arms when they walk down the street. This also reminds me of my friends at camp. Que triste, pero ahorita estoy en Costa Rica!
Getting through two gates in the dark is a little complicated, but we managed after our evening adventure. Now I'm off to bed. Can't wait for my commute in the morning! Que tuanis! So cool!
Hasta luego,
Lauren
Hello! Today is my fifth day in San José, Costa Rica, but I feel like I've been here for much longer. Where do I even start? This blog is way overdue.
The second I arrived at the airport in Ft. Lauderdale, I was inundated with Spanish. Most of the people on my flight were Tican (Costa Rican). The first thing I learned about Tican culture is that there are no such thing as lines. I was cut in line while waiting at the security checkpoint by a family. Israeli culture is similar in that respect, but I was shocked at first.
Upon arrival in Costa Rica, I was greeted by Joaquin, one of the directors of the program. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and immediately put me at ease while we waited for other participants to arrive. Joaquin is about 40 years old, has studied almost every subject at some point in his life and currently teaches intercultural communication courses at a local university. He wears his hair in a short ponytail and is essentially the epitome of a Costa Rican hippie. He knows everything about Costa Rican government and history, and he is opinionated when it comes to human rights and politics. In short, Joaquin is awesome.
Once Sam (a girl from Michigan) and David (a boy from Boston) made it out of the airport, we hopped into a van and drove to the hotel to meet the rest of the group. Hotel Don Carlos was adorable, complete with water fountains and Latin American art. Joaquin took us out to lunch in the middle of the city. I was brave and ordered casado con pollo. I thought it was going to be my first strange foreign meal, but it was just a huge plate with chicken, rice, beans, vegetables and plantains. Little did I know that Ticans eat bread and/or rice with EVERY meal. I'm serious. Not one meal goes by without some form of carbohydrate. Ticans eat a lot of starch.
Once we met up with the whole group, we went to an open bar/restaurant to watch a game of fútbol. It was an important game; the Costa Rica team needs a certain amount of wins to qualify for the World Cup. Every time Costa Rica scored, you could hear the city erupt in cheers. Every person on the street was wearing their bright red team jersey. It was really exciting, and even more so when they won the game!
When we returned to the hotel, we had a brief orientation. I was exhausted. I had just survived my first day!
On Sunday, after a delicious breakfast of eggs, papaya, beans, coffee and bread (obviously), we took a tour of San José. The city is relatively small. Avenidas run east to west, and calles run north to south. Except in Costa Rica, that doesn't really matter. Nobody knows what street a certain place is on, unless it's on Avenida Central or Calle Central. Directions go something like this: "Es tres cuadras al norte, cerca del banco y a la izquierda del parque." It's three blocks north, near the bank and to the left of the park. If you hand a taxi driver a numbered address, he will look at you like you are crazy and most likely have no idea where it is. A block isn't a specific distance, either. The block could be 100 meters long or 30 meters long, and people will still call it a block. No specifics here, claro?
After the grand tour, we went back to the hotel. We waited for the home stay families to arrive. My family didn't pick me up because I am living with two other girls, and their car wasn't big enough for all of our luggage (I am proud of my 47 and 49 lb. suitcases, thank you). Eric and Karol, the other two directors, drove Natalie, Amy and me a nuestra casa.
Oh, another thing about Tican life - people here are very weird about security. Every house or building has bars on the windows and barbed wire above their gates. I have three house keys: one for the gate on the street, one for the gate inside and one for the actual front door. What's weird about it is that during the day, my family leaves every gate and door open. Windows are open all the time (no air conditioning), and people are relatively trustworthy. For example, on our tour of the city, we stopped at a Catholic church. Sunday also happened to be the primary election for the presidential candidate for the Liberación Nacional party (similar to the Democratic Party). Johnny Araya, one of the candidates (who actually lost), was at the church shaking hands, kissing babies, etc. He had absolutely no security. There were no police present, no guards by the doors, nothing. When I asked my host family about this, they said there is no need for that in Costa Rica. While petty crime may be rampant among San José, more serious crimes are almost unheard of.
Okay, back to my host family - once we made it past all of the gates, we were met by Patricia and Juan Carlos, my house parents. They were so welcoming! I barely understood one word, but they gave us a tour of their adorable house and insisted that Eric and Karol stay for coffee. They prefer to be called Patri and Juanca, even though the directors told us to call our house parents Don Juan Carlos and Doña Patricia. Patri y Juanca tienen dos hijos. Estéfanie is 19 years old and studies speech therapy at a local university. She was a little shy at first, but I think she is warming up to Natalie, Amy and me. Brandon is 14 years old. He plays a lot of computer games, doesn't do his homework and cracks a lot of jokes. Basically, I adore him. He makes fun of everyone. Patri's cousin's son, Marco, and another relative, José David, share a bedroom in the house as well. Natalie, Amy and I each have our own room. Natalie and I share a tiny bathroom upstairs. So far, the toilet is still out of order, which forces Natalie and me to travel downstairs every time nature calls.
Dinner the first night was overwhelming, confusing and hilarious all at once. Patri, Juan Carlos and the rest of the family quickly learned that speaking slowly is much more effective if they want me to actually understand what they are saying. I have learned that smiles and silence are acceptable when you do not know the Spanish equivalent of an English expression. I have also learned that my five or six years of Spanish language education were worthless. Words have completely different meanings in different Latin American countries. ¨Ahora¨ does not mean ¨now.¨ It means later. Much later. Kind of confusing, right? If you want to say ¨now,¨you have to say ¨ya¨or ¨ahorita.¨ Thank me for this tip later...it will save you about an hour of confusion the next time you find yourself among friendly Ticans.
My room has a few shelves, a small desk, a cement bed and an open window. My view is spectacular. During the day, I have a clear image of the surrounding neighborhood and mountain landscape. At night, I enjoy the perfect mixture of multicolored lights spotting the mountains and a star studded sky. I can also see into a few other houses. All of the houses are kind of slipshod (is that the word I'm looking for?) in the sense that people are constantly making additions to their houses that don't match the rest of the house. Houses are shack-like, with metal sheets patched together for the rooftop. I'll upload pictures soon.
On Monday, Karen (Estéfanie inside the house, Karen outside the house. Nickname, I think? Yo no sé) walked us to the University of Veritas to meet up with the group. Veritas is an arts school; students here study architecture, graphic design, visual/audio production or photography. All of the Tican students dress on the punkish side. A lot of the girls were wearing my slouchy black suede boots! I could never wear boots in this hot and humid weather, but Costa Rica is in the wet season right now and are used to the temperature. After a brief campus tour, we left and drove to Café Britt. Café Britt is a coffee company in Costa Rica. We took a tour of the coffee plant and factory. After, we indulged ourselves in free samples and had lunch with the manager of the entire company. He was fascinating. Of course I can't remember his name now, but he spoke about his trials and triumphs in his career. He stressed how important it is to possess a skill and to use it to your advantage when you pursue a career. He cited his work as an apprentice to a coffee taster as the most beneficial educational tool of his life.
After the tour, we separated and went home. I went to the gym with a few friends from my program (Amy, David and Evan). The gym didn't have air conditioning! I don't know why I was so surprised (there isn't air conditioning anywhere), but it's a gym! It was so gross in there, despite the decent quality of the facilities. I couldn't wait to go home for dinner (oy). Patri is an incredible cook, but I noticed that Ticans get insulted if you don't try a certain dish or clear your plate. She made a cauliflower dish with cheese and onions. Unbelievable. I don't think my host family is like most other families. They don't attend church often, dinner is not at a specific time and the children don't have to sit at the table with us. Patri and Juan Carlos often have the television on during meals, and Juan Carlos helps himself to whatever he wants in the kitchen (in most Tican homes, the kitchen is the mother's territory ONLY). They are very relaxed. They love having a lot of people around all the time; they take in students studying abroad as often as they can (Tican families get payment for this, too). I think my Spanish will improve; the family is very helpful and patient with the language barrier. Oh, they have a note on their refrigerator with our names. Amy is crossed out and it says, "Eime." Natalie is written out correctly, because it is pronounced the same way. Lauren is crossed out and it reads, "Loren." I got a kick out of that.
Yesterday (Tuesday) was my first day of commuting and working in San José! I wore my most stylish pencil skirt and business profressional blouse, but I think that might be the first and last time I do that. By the time I got to Veritas, I was melting from the heat. Joaquin met me at Veritas and helped me with the transportation to work. I have an easy commute y mi trabajo es solamente tres cuadras de la parada del bus. I'm working at Summa Media Group. Summa publishes a variety of Latin American magazines, but it is most well known for Revista Summa. Revista Summa is the largest business magazine in all of Latin America.
The security guard of the building gave me a hard time at first. He wanted my identification and a lot of information before he would let me inside. Joaquin told me that Ticans like to feel like they're doing their job. Now, the security guard and I are best friends. His name is Edgar. He looks out for me!
In Costa Rica, when you enter or exit a room, you must greet or say goodbye to everyone. You must introduce yourself to every person. It's rude if you say hello to one person and not another. Pues, hay muchas personas en la oficina de Summa. Men and women kiss each other on the cheek when they greet you (warning: always go to the left when kissing a cheek), and men shake hands when meeting other men. I met everyone! I'm working with Marilyn Gutiérrez y Luis Diego Quirós. They write almost every article in the magazine. Marilyn and Luis Diego brought me to my desk and computer (a beautiful desktop Mac).
By the time I arrived, it was lunchtime. Marilyn and Luis Diego brought me to a fast food restaurant called ASand helped me order lunch. Fast food is considered to be quality dining here. Burger King, McDonald's, KFC and Taco Bell are everywhere. It's not cheap, either. I sat with my newfound co-workers in the cafeteria. All I said the whole time was, "Lo siento, no entiendo nada." Sorry, I don't understand anything. I've now graduated to saying "Repite, por favor." Repeat, please.
After lunch, I got my first assignment. I transcribed an interview with Philip Kotler. Luis Diego asked the questions in broken English, and Mr. Kotler responded in English. I typed it all out, only to learn that I was to write the article. I worked all afternoon. Google Philip Kotler. Yeah, my jaw dropped (can you say "Ay Dios Mio" five times fast?). This magazine is awesome! They've had Michael Dell on the cover, among other prominent businessmen and world leaders. I was honored that they let me write a piece for them on the first day. Granted, it will be translated into Spanish for the magazine, but I think I did a decent job.
I left around 5:30p.m. Public transportation isn't safe after 7 p.m. and it gets dark around 6 p.m. I found the right bus and got off at the correct stop! I was so proud of myself. I walked home from Veritas...I think I might actually be learning my way around. After another delicious dinner filled with second helpings, lengthy explanations and endless laughter, I was exhausted. Natalie, Amy and I go to sleep relatively early. Here, people are up and running around 6 a.m. The walls are paper thin; I couldn't sleep in even if I wanted to.
This morning, I had to be at work at 8 a.m. Juan Carlos brought me to a new bus stop; he and Patri claim it is a much easier commute (at least that's what I think they said). It turned out to be the same bus route, just closer to my house. I walked around the city for a few minutes before work. I want to learn my way around the city. I found a few restaurants and destinations that the group went to on our tour.
Another Tican trait - when they say 8 a.m., they mean whenever you decide to wander in, give or take 30 minutes. I was the first one here! I'm going to leave much later tomorrow. Marilyn gave me an assignment right away. She transcribed an interview in Spanish, and she wanted me to write the article...in Spanish. I asked her if she was sure, and she said yes. I did tell her yesterday that my Spanish is better on paper than in word form (I guess my Spanish background isn't totally worthless after all). So, I spent four or five hours writing an article in Spanish, complete with quotes and proper organization. I've never had to do that in a journalism class. Though extremely challenging, it was also interesting. I've been taking journalism classes and Spanish classes at UF for two years now, but this was the first time the two have mixed. I realized that this internship is a perfect combination for me. The magazines in Latin America are just like every other magazine, and I'm thrilled that I have the opportunity to contribute. I warned Marilyn my grammar mistakes would be juvenile, but she didn't seem to mind. The article was about the president and general manager of the only five star hotel here in San José, Hotel Aurola. Sr. Jordan would be proud; my SPN3300 Grammar and Composition class actually came in handy.
Right now, Marilyn is editing my article and adding extra information she collected during her interview. I met the Editorial Director and General Manager. César González, the graphic designer, is right outside our office. He has the coolest job; he puts the pages together with photos and cool fonts. Note to self: I want to take a design course at school next year. César knows a little English, but Marilyn has told everyone that I need to practice my Spanish. She pretends that she doesn't know any English, even though she has been in a bilingual school since she was five years old and speaks beautifully.
Now that I have written a novel at work...what am I forgetting? There is so much to think about. Translating and speaking in Spanish is draining, but I love it. I wish I had a blog with me all the time. I do have a notebook. Maybe I'll write in that during the day and blog at night if I have time. Oh! Costa Rican money. Here, there are colones. Roughly 500 colones is a dollar. The bus toll is usually 175 colones, which is like 25 cents. Almost everything here (food, transportation, clothing) is cheaper than in the United States.
Apologies for the disorganization of this novel. I don't think any of my posts will ever be this long, but I had five days to catch up on! I think I'm going to love it here. The people are friendly, the food is good and the country is gorgeous. What's not to love?
Pura vida,
Lauren
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