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!