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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