The San Pedro Mall

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

With a couple of hours to kill this afternoon while waiting for the conversation class to begin at 4:00, I decided to walk to the mall and look around. I went to my favorite ice cream parlor, Pops. It is conveniently located just inside the entrance I use to go in the mall. I say it's my favorite, but in reality, this was only my second visit, but I have enjoyed both trips. So compared to the other ice cream shops in the mall, which I haven't tried, this one is my favorite! Rather than have a cono today, I asked for a copa sencillo (1 scoop in a cup) of chocolate. As always it was delicious. It cost 1.350 colones.

Front entrance to the San Pedro Mall

After eating the ice cream, I decided to check out the 1st floor, which I haven't yet experienced. There are many cell phone dealers, clothing shops, and so forth. I was surprised to encounter an adult store behind the children's toy store! I guess that could be convenient if you are pre-disposed to buying both children's and adult's toys.

At the mall you can find many of the brands you find in the U.S., whether it is cologne, sports gear, or some of the clothing labels. Rather than one food court, there are fast food restaurants on the second and third floors, and other smaller snack kiosks scattered on all 3 floors. There are several banks inside the mall as well as a bookstore, a dentist and doctor's clinic. The movie theater is on the 3rd floor. Epoca Hielo 4 (Ice Age 4), El Hombre Cabellero Oscuro (Batman: The Dark Knight Rises), and Hombre Arana (The Amazing Spiderman) are currently playing. Sometimes you can catch them with English subtitles.

I've been in the mall probably 5 times now and it is always crowded. On the other hand, everytime I go it is during the lunch hour. With all the businesses around, there are probably a lot of people there for lunch.

View inside the mall of all 3 levels of the mall. There are about 4 more floors above the mall. I think they are various offices.

Another view of the mall.

Quiznos, McDonalds and Burger King. Wendy's and Popeye's Chicken are to the left of Quiznos. KFC is across from Quiznos.

Monday's Ramblings

Monday, July 30, 2012

One week down and three to go.

I am tired tonight. I didn't sleep well last night because with my bedroom at the front of the house, facing the street, I hear everything happening in the vecinidad (neighborhood).  Evidently, few people have mufflers on their cars, and for some reason the past few nights, there have been a lot of cars and trucks running down the street in the middle of the night. The woman next door is dog sitting her daughter's 5 Schnauzers (spelling?). Yesterday morning and this morning, they decided to get into some kind of vicious-sounding, tear-something-apart bru ha ha at 5:00 in the morning. They sounded like a pack of very angry wolves.

I learned a new word today: tapones para oidos. Ear plugs...I bought a large box today.  I had NO trouble asking the store clerk where they were located in the store. Speaking success!!!

I went to the ATM at the San Pedro Mall today during lunch. They are private affairs which look kind of like a phone booth, with several lined up side-by-side. Once inside, I saw they had an English option. Good! I didn't want to take any chances when it came to withdrawing money. I wanted to withdraw $100, so I had to push the button that said 50,000 colones. I just about had a heart attack. I felt like I was withdrawing my entire life's savings. Breathe deeply, Debbie. It was just $100...

10,000 colones, the equivalent of approximately $20.

Various bills & coin, equaling 13,615 colones or roughly $27 and some change.

Religious Meltdown

Sunday, July 29, 2012

After another harrowing taxi ride with Dona Sandra and her 3 grandchildren, I arrived at church grateful to be alive. I found out I am attending the La Campina Ward in the Los Yoses Stake. Sacrament Meeting went well. I enjoyed the talks and understood much of what was said.

We had another good Sunday School lesson, this time about Alma's advice to his sons in chapters 36-39. The teacher is very animated, confident, and uses visual aids such as posters, which she hangs on the board, to deliver a very spiritual, well-organized and thorough lesson. I enjoy her lessons very much and even though she speaks rapidly, I understand what she is saying. Toward the end of the lesson, she challenged the entire class to follow her to the stand next Sunday to bear testimony during Fast and Testimony Meeting. I was puzzling over whether I should consider doing that next week, when she called on me to give the closing prayer. I was so shocked and unprepared, that my first thought was "NO!" but I remembered that we should serve when asked, so I hesitantly said I'd try. Big mistake! HUGE MISTAKE!

I am basically a very shy, timid, reserved person, although I've tried really hard over the years to break out of some of that. I compensate for these short comings by preparing VERY WELL when I am asked to give talks in church, teach lessons, and so forth. I've gotten over my fear of praying at church as well. I can do all of this fairly well with advanced preparation and prayer. I have been saying my daily prayers in Spanish since I arrived here, but that was not enough to prepare me for praying in public in Spanish. Obviously in school, we are not taught, nor have I ever learned, religious vocabulary. In short, I blew it...big time.

I was so tongue-tied, that after I said, "Heavenly Father," I barely choked out a basic, "We thank you for..."  And it went downhill from there. I tried to say we were thankful for the prophet, but I was so flustered, I couldn't even remember the name of the prophet! I'm not sure what I said, and I don't think anyone else was sure either. Somehow I finished. Hopefully, I said, "Amen."

As soon as I sat down, the woman next to me, Raquel, said, "I can help you." She proceeded to tell me in English that she had the perfect way for me to learn Spanish. She said she would come by tomorrow to show me her method. She was very kind, but the more she talked, the worse I felt.  I think she kept saying something about my pronunciation. Pronouncing Spanish is NOT a problem for me, in fact, I’ve been told my pronunciation is just fine. The problem was that I was so panicked, I could not think of the words to say, but she kept talking about my pronunciation and that was depressing me to think that was a problem, too. As we were walking back to the chapel for a combined meeting with the priesthood, THE BIG MELTDOWN began...

I was so frustrated with myself. Frustrated that I even attempted to pray in Spanish. Frustrated that I knew the words to say, but couldn't think of them in my moment of need. Frustrated that I didn't have the presence of mind to just switch over to English to finish the prayer when I realized that I was in trouble. Frustrated that I have worked so hard these past 6 years to re-learn Spanish after 25 years of letting it lie dormant and yet I still have trouble speaking. (I think there may have even been a fleeting thought of frustration that I had beans for breakfast again today.)

And then I started crying. I bawled in the chapel as quietly as I could for 30 minutes straight. I didn't want to walk out because that seemed so dramatic, and I didn't want everyone behind me to see my red face. I finally left with 15 minutes left of the meeting. I went to the bathroom and cried. I walked out to the curb to wait for the taxi, still crying. I cried all the way home and then cried off and on through the afternoon. I guess I just needed to let out all the frustration of the past 6 years and of the missed opportunity 35 years ago when I was in college to travel to a Spanish speaking country and really get this language down.

Sometimes in the United States, we get frustrated when we call a company for assistance with whatever product or service we want to use, and a person who speaks English with a strong accent answers. Or we are out and about, maybe at the mall, and we hear people speaking their native language (usually Spanish.) A year or so ago when we carpeted our basement, 2 men showed up to lay the new carpet. The entire time they were in our house they spoke Russian. I don't know about you, but it feels uncomfortable when I am in the presence of people speaking in another language. I don't know what they are saying. Maybe they are talking rudely about me? I don't know. So out of frustration, we say something like, "If a person wants to live in America, they should learn/speak English."  I have never liked to hear people say that because I know how difficult it is to learn another language.

Face it folks: there are many, many words we use every day. We have been learning those words since we were babies. We practiced and practiced as we learned our native language, and our parents and relatives thought we were so cute when we mispronounced words or used them incorrectly. We learned our language in a comfortable, encouraging environment over many years.

As a foreign language learner, we try to cram the equivalent of 15 years of total immersion as a child into a few hours weekly in the classroom. When we make mistakes, instead of someone thinking we are cute, we get a bad grade. We feel humiliated. Then when we venture into the "real world," we face real people who may not have the patience our parents had. They look at us funny, they may smirk, and they are impatient.

Living in another country has given me even more insight into the difficulties of being an immigrant. The teacher in my class told me that I have a broad vocabulary base. He was surprised at some of the words that I know. However, despite that base, I still encounter many, many everyday words that I just simply don't know. It is frustrating and humbling. I know that I am trying very hard to continue to learn Spanish and I don't want anyone here telling me that if I am going to live or visit in Costa Rica I need to learn or speak Spanish.

It's just a thought, but perhaps when we encounter someone trying to communicate in English, we could replace our judgmental thoughts that insinuate they are not trying, to thoughts of encouragement and admiration that they ARE trying. Offer gentle assistance and patience, rather than hostility, impatience, and harsh judgment.

As for me, I'm feeling better tonight, but how do you say, "Good Night?"   Just kidding...Buenas Noches!



La Campina Ward

 

The chapel is the building on the left.

And you thought it rained a lot in Seattle?

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Seattle has a bad reputation for being a bit grey because it seems like it rains for 9 months every year. By the time June rolls around, everyone is pretty sick of it and we suffer through what is known as June Gloom, knowing that something similar to what we see in books with the title "Summer" really will make its appearance at some point in the near future...usually on July 5th. From then through the end of August, maybe a week or two into September, the sun shines, the sky is the bluest blue you've ever seen and people are out and about in droves, wearing their rarely-used shorts, enjoying the nice weather. One can see many, many chalky, white legs roaming the streets and neighborhoods of Seattle during summer.

In reality, Seattle doesn't get all that much rain, as in downpours. It is grey and drizzles a lot. Some days it does rain, but it doesn't usually go all out with a frog-strangler. Yes, we occasionally have a thunder storm, but they are so infrequent that they generate a lot of discussion when they do occur. "Wow! Did you hear the thunder last night and see the lightning? The lightning flashes woke me up!"  Once several years ago we had over 1,000 lightning strikes in one night and it made the front page of the paper! There was a large color picture of the Space Needle with lightning flashing above it and that's all anyone could talk about for days.


https://www.google.com/

But usually, mist, drizzle, drip, drip, grey, watch the moss grow. That's Seattle.

The Costa Ricans could teach Seattle a lot about rain. They have aguaceras (down pours)...frequently, as in daily. I have yet to see drizzle or mist. It's either raining or not. Thunder and lightning? Yep, there's a lot of that, too. It started raining Friday evening and really has not stopped. In fact, it's pouring right now as I type this.

I am beginning to understand the 2-season concept now. Winter - rainy season.  Summer - dry season.

On Friday, Pauline, the French student who lives here, escaped from the rain for a trip to the Carribbean coast at Puerto Viejo near the Panamanian border. Usually it doesn't rain so much at the beach. It's hot, dry, and sunny, so many of the students head for the beaches over the weekend. Not only did it rain while she was there, but the bus had a hard time getting back. A four or five hour bus ride turned into a 22 hour nightmare. Mud slides blocked the road in many places and she said it was hard to tell where the road was and where the river was!

I think the young man selling toothbrushes on the bus the other day should consider selling sombrillas (umbrellas).

The National Museum, Part 2

I guess each blog entry has a limit, because I was unable to finish telling about The National Museum and had to start a new entry...

In the Pre-Columbian exhibit, there were many glass cases with tools, ceramic pottery, and items made of jade and gold. One entire room was devoted to gold. It was amazing to see the small intricate pieces, little tiny Polly Pocket-sized animals, as well as larger pieces used for jewelry. I can just imagine the thinking of the Spanish conquistadors when they saw the golden pieces! They just went nuts conquering one native group after another in their search for gold and precious metals to send back to Spain.

One of the glass cases was dedicated to "re-burials," a very interesting phenomenon that occurred around 500 B.C. A few months after a person died and the soft flesh was gone, they would dig up the remains, gather the bones into a neat stack about 12" x 12", include some wooden beads or jade pendant, wrap them in cloth and re-bury the remains. Archeologists excavated these neat little bundles, and two were on display at the museum.

We toured two homes that were used for the 1st and 2nd commandants of the fort and viewed photos of several with their families. Finally, we went through a gallery that had photos of Francisco Soto. I think that was his last name. He has been taking photos for many, many years and in fact, is still alive. I have never heard of him before, but I was very impressed with his work. There were many photos of everyday people at work, which perfectly captured their lives in just an instant. There were also photos of some of the Costa Rican governmental officials over the years. He took pictures of John F. Kennedy when he was here in 1963. A grouping of photos of tourists was very interesting, too. While I'm no expert on art or photography, I could still appreciate the genius of his work. Each photo "said" a lot!

There are several other museums in the same area of old, historic San Jose. I have been told the Gold Museum, Jade Museum and Children's Museum are very good and will try to see them soon.

The National Museum, Part 1

Saturday, July 28, 2012

El museo nacional de Costa Rica (National Musem) is definitely worth seeing should you find yourself in San Jose, Costa Rica. It is housed in the old Bellavista Fortress, which was built in 1917 and served as an army barracks. During the civil war of 1948 fighting took place there and one can still see the bullet holes in the turrets.

On the right is one of the turrets from the old fortress. If you look closely you can see the bullet holes on it.

Outside the entrance to the museum is the first of many Pre-Columbian spheres that you will see throughout the museum. It is housed within a large glass sphere. These spheres are from southwestern Costa Rica and are believed to have been made from 300 A.D. to just before the Spanish arrival. They range in size from a few inches to over 8 feet in diameter. The one in the picture below seemed to be about 5 feet in diameter. The glass sphere around it is huge!

Pre-Columbian sphere within a more modern glass sphere.



More spheres!

After paying for tickets to enter the museum ($8 foreigners/about $3 for Costa Ricans), we entered a butterfly garden. The garden is charming and instantly brought me a feeling of peace, contentment, and joy. Maybe it is the lush green environment or maybe all the oxygen the plants are producing, but I felt that I hadn't a care in the world. Since it was raining, we had to look very carefully to see the butterflies. They found places to stay out of the rain and once I saw one, then two, it was much easier to see where they liked to hang out.

After passing through the butterfly garden we exited to a central courtyard that was really like a small park. I saw a cacao tree with a pod on it. It was nice to see the source of my favorite drug (chocolate)! The rest of the museum consisted of buildings around this courtyard.

Next, we went into the old barracks of the fort. We saw the jail cells, the showers, the latrine and looked at photos and read about the history of the fort. Most of the descriptive signs were written in both Spanish and English, which came in handy because there were a lot of technical terms used.

From the barracks, we went to a Pre-Columbian exhibit that was just incredible. While Costa Rica does not have the pyramids and ruins that Mexico, Guatemala, Peru and other countries have, the artifacts that have been excavated are fantastic. Here are some photos:





These are called metates and were used to cover bodies in a tomb.

 

Want to buy a toothbrush? Marketing Costa Rican Style

Friday, July 27, 2012

After school today, Kesa and I took the bus further into San Jose. When we arrived at the end of the line, we disembarked amid such a crowd of people that I thought I was in New York City. I could hardly walk for all the people. The bus stopped at a cobblestone street that is not used by vehicles and we started making our way through the crowd.





As we walked down the street, we saw vendors of all sorts hawking their wares, which were laid out down the middle of the cobblestone street, laying right on the street. There were no tables or other method of display other than just laying whatever they were selling right on the street.

Apparently, the country has la lotería (lottery), because there were people with small tables on every corner selling lottery tickets. The tickets were just lying out in rows on the tables, but I did notice they had push pins on each one, apparently to slow down the petty thieves.

We crossed through La Plaza de la Cultura (Culture Park), which was covered with pigeons, mooching off anyone who would give them a bite of whatever they were eating.


This photo doesn't even begin to show the amount of pigeons. At places, I had to scoot them aside with my feet to pass through.



 Kesa wanted to buy a bilingual Bible that was not Catholic. Jennifer gave her directions to an evangelical book store, but we couldn't find it. Soon we found ourselves in a part of town that felt a little scary. One of the lotería saleswomen, an older woman who was with her blind son, took us under her wing and quickly advised me to put my camera under my blouse rather than walk around with it exposed around my neck. She advised us to really hug up on our purses so no one would grab them and she told Kesa to keep an eye on the necklace she was wearing. She was helpful, but scared the beejeebies out of me with her admonitions. She sent us off to the east 6 blocks to find the book store. No book store there. We asked 2 policemen for help; they sent us 3 blocks back the way we came. Along the way we encountered book stores, just not the Evangelical kind. Another man sent us several blocks in another direction. It almost felt as if they all had walkie talkies and were in collusion to see how many different directions they could send us. We went around and around and I was so turned around, I wasn't sure I was still in Costa Rica! Eventually we ended up back with the lady with the lottery tickets who was with yet another son, a professor of English. He was sure the book store was in a completely different direction. Before departing, the lottery lady blessed us Catholic style and we headed out once more for the not-Catholic bookstore. Turns out her son was correct: we found the bookstore and Kesa was able to find a Bible to buy.

After walking all over the place in the rain, dodging people and cars, we had little time to go to the mercado de artesanias, so we made a quick run through. From the outside it looked like a run-down rectangular something. Not quite a tent, but not really a building either. Stall after stall was filled with just about anything you can imagine. As we walked the length of the mercado people would try to get us to enter their area all the while regaling us with what they had to sell and what it was made of. There were leather goods, wooden carvings, jewelry, clothing, toys, every kind of handmade souvenier you could think of. It was an interesting, but imposing place.

About an hour before sundown, we thought it wise to catch a bus and head home. The bus had just barely pulled away from the curb, when de repente (suddenly) a young man stood up at the front of the bus, and in a loud voice introduced himself and explained that he was a poor college student in need of money, whipped out several packages of toothbrushes and began a sales pitch on why we should buy his toothbrushes. Yes, you heard me correctly: TOOTHBRUSHES!  He went on quite sincerely for quite a while, even demonstrating the models that fold in half, their flexibility, etc. I was quite impressed with his agility, that he was able to stay upright while the bus bounced and hopped its way down the road. After his lengthy presentation, he walked the aisle of the bus selling toothbrushes to anyone who wanted one! A couple of stops down the road, he got off the bus and a young man with half of a bag of suckers got onboard and began his pitch to sell suckers. Kesa bought two. Too bad the toothbrush salesman didn't board after the sucker salesman. He may have had better luck...





Anyone want to buy a toothbrush?




Birthday celebration

Friday, July 27, 2012

Tomorrow is Emilio's birthday. Emilio is one of the grandchildren. He will turn 7.  Tonight, the family celebrated by having several of Emilio's friends come over for que que (cake) and conos de helado (ice cream cones) and play time.





Emilio's birthday. Emilio is sitting on the couch on the far right.

  After taking pictures of the children and family, everyone gathered at the table to sing Happy Birthday,. The que que (cake) had one lit candle, and the lights were turned off. The song went like this (to the traditional sound of Happy Birthday in English):

Cumpleanos Feliz  (pause)   Cumpleanos Feliz  (pause)  , etc.  During the pauses, Emilio's older cousin, Juan Miguel, would shout out chicharrones!  It was pretty funny. After blowing out the candle, everyone was served cake, ice cream cones, and soda pop. Then the kids went outside to play.

Blowing out the candle. Emilio with his mother Marcia.

Mayra Portilla and her husband, Miguel Quesada, are the patriarchs of the family. Their 3 grandchildren are left to right: Jose Miguel, 10; Emilio,7; Mariana, 4. The boy on the far right is their family friend, Davis.

Tomorrow, the children and their aunts will go to a local amusement park to continue to celebrate Emilio's birthday.

A few bad words in Spanish

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Yeah, I knew that title would get your attention...

Our teacher occasionally feels the need to caution us on the use of certain words that may seem harmless if looked up in the dictionary, but can be quite dirty if combined, whether innocently or not, with other words.

Take, for example, the word for "to pick up."  No, I'm not going to give you the Spanish translation. However, it means to pick up something from the floor, the table, etc. In Spanish it is not synonymous with the idea of picking someone up, like giving them a ride somewhere. That word is a whole different word. But in COSTA RICA if you use that first word I told you about to say you are going to pick up Laura (to take her somewhere), you have just dropped the F* bomb and Laura's mother is not going to be very happy with what you are planning to do with Laura!

I also learned how to say the same thing in Mexico using a distinctly Mexican slang word. It's a good thing to know how to be vulgar in two different countries. You never know when that might come in handy.  NOT!  Actually, it is a good thing that he warned us. I certainly don't want to do something like drop the F* word at church or something.

Finally, I learned the crude way to say what results when someone passes gas. I don't like the word in English, so I'm certainly not going to repeat it in Spanish. Our teacher, Oscar, told us that part of the word for someone who is pedantic contains this particular word, so be careful when you are saying that someone is pedantic.

Along that same theme: I had black beans and rice with my breakfast, black beans and rice with fried plaintains and some vegetable mix for lunch, and yes! You guess it: more beans for dinner. This time it was garbanzo beans mixed with yucca, chicken legs, and a yam-like potato. It was actually very good, but I do think I am going to blow up if I eat any more beans this week!

Weather report: We actually had a sunny day with very few clouds all day. I'm told that it is very rare at this time of the year and has the farmers worried about their crops. With the clear skies, I was able to get a good look at the mountains all around us. We are definitely in a valley. The mountains are awesome. I will try to get some pictures of them soon.

Tomorrow's blog entry : after classes tomorrow I'm going to the town center to check out the mercado de artesanias (traditional handicrafts market.)

Cooking and Eating Costa Rican Style

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Pictures: Some street scenes  and cooking class photos at the end of this posting.

Weather report: It did NOT rain today! In fact, it was partly sunny when we left for school today! Yay! However, it was cloudy when we arrived in town and stayed overcast and pretty windy all day...but at least it was dry.

I couldn't wear my jacket to school today because it was still wet from yesterday's downpour. No one here has a clothes dryer. Washing machines, yes; but no clothes dryers. Everything gets hung on the line to dry, which means during the rainy season one may have to wait awhile for clean clothes. The mother of the house washes our clothes, but we have been advised to give her a couple of days notice so we don't run out of clean clothes before the laundry has a chance to dry in el aire libre (outdoors.)

National Holiday: Today was a dia feriado (a national holiday), celebrating the annexation of an area west of here known as Guanacaste. I have been told the people there are native tribes so to speak and would like to be their own country, but the area is too small. They had to choose between Nicaragua and Costa Rica and they chose to be annexed to Costa Rica. (Wise choice). This happened about 70 years ago or so. Los nicaraguenses (Nicaraguans) aren't too happy and think they should be part of their country, but too bad, so sad, they aren't. Anyway, a lot of people didn't have to work today and the public schools were closed, so the commute to town was easy this morning. (We DID have school today.)

Emilio, the son of Marcia (the teacher at our school and daughter in the family here) had to dress up as a campesino (person from the country/not a city dweller) for school yesterday to participate in a play about the annexation of Guanacaste. Campesinos dress in traditional clothing: sandals, short pants with red bandana tied around their waist, white shirt, and straw hat. Well, Emilio is about 7 years old and has very definite feelings about how things should be, especially when it comes to socks. He does not like to be without his socks (even at the beach.) He had a melt-down when he was told he could not wear socks with his sandals yesterday. It has been the talk of the family for days. They were afraid he would sneak socks to school in his mochila (backpack) or somehow have a fit once he got there.  But when the big day came yesterday, with tears in his eyes, he dutifully walked to his microbus at 6:30 yesterday morning without his socks for his ride to school. As it turns out, once he got to school and saw the other campesinos without socks, he was fine, and proudly said his lines in the school play.

Ugly Americans: Although the school has students from all over the world, there are more Americans than other international students. The great majority are very kind and well-behaved, but I had the misfortune today to experience two who definitely fit under the category of ugly American: rude, brash, arrogant:

UA #1:  Remember the man in my conversation class yesterday who butchered the language so badly? One of his classmates said he is totally disrupting their class by arriving upwards of 30 minutes late, expecting the teacher to fill him in on what he missed, interrupting her constantly, and dropping the f-bomb and other choice words in class. He happened to show up to the cooking class I took today and was swearing all over the place. Ugh!

UA#2: As we were introducing ourselves in one of the classes today, we were supposed to say our name and where we are from...in Spanish. The woman next to me said she was from Egipto (Egypt). A very brash, loud-mouthed young woman immediately blurted out in English, "What the hell is that?"  I think everyone was embarrassed; I know I was. Someone told her that it was the Spanish word for the country of Egypt. The young woman was unphased and didn't seem to realize how rude she was and how uncomfortable she probably made the Egyptian feel.

TRAVEL TIP OF THE DAY: Don't be an Ugly American when traveling abroad.

Cooking Class: Every Wednesday a cooking class is offered at the school. A woman comes to the school and teaches us how to make traditional Costa Rican food. Today we made empanadas.
The entire class was conducted in Spanish, as is everything at the school. We mashed 6 cooked platanos maduros (ripe plaintains-- like bananas, only bigger and harder),  and mixed in 1/4 kilo of grated queso blanco (white cheese) and 1 taza (cup) of harina (flour). We took that dough and formed balls, which we then flattened into a tortilla shape. We filled each "tortilla" with a little more grated cheese and mashed 1 lata (can) of black beans (yes, I had more beans today!). Then you fold it half and pinch the edges together and fry it in oil until it is well-browned. Very delicious! The sweet taste of the plantains with the cheese and beans was an interesting combination. Culturally, I learned that these empanadas can be made as a dessert as well by adding either vanilla or sprinkling with cinnamon. They are sort of an equivalent to our coffee cake. They invite friends over in the afternoon for empanadas and a cup of coffee.

Dinner: Our dinners have now taken on a more international flare with the addition of Pauline, the woman from France that I mentioned in yesterday's blog posting. We had 3 different languages going tonight at dinner as she struggled to translate words from French to either Spanish or English.
Kesa was talking about foods from the south, such as collard greens and pigs feet (I guess we could say there was a 4th language) and we were trying to translate not only what Kesa was talking about, but Pauline's descriptions of French food and the traditional Costa Rican food on the table. I learned that chicharrones (Pork Rinds) come in different styles. When I said I didn't like them because they taste like greasy air, Jennifer told me that chicharrones de carne are the best and I would like them. It sounds like they will be bringing them into the house for us to try.

We had a salad of sliced Bok Choy mixed with chopped tomatoes and corn tonight. It sounds gross, but it was actually pretty good. Did you know that Bok Choy is called mostaza china (Chinese mustard) in Spanish? We also had baked chicken pieces (meat is not a big part of the meal---more of a condiment with just small pieces served), some kind of salsa made of a vegetable that I have never heard of before (ajote, I think?), and rice.

After dinner Pauline showed us some pictures from her Facebook account of their home in Provence, in the south of France. It is a lovely, traditional French cottage.

Kesa, mama Mayra, and her daughter Jennifer and I laughed for over an hour over the antics of children. We swapped stories about the funny things our children or grandchildren have done. I haven't laughed so hard in months as I did tonight. Jennifer was telling us funny stories about being the youngest in the family. Her brother Jorge (he fixed my computer) is 15 years older than her and Marcia is 9 years older. Some of the things they did to her were typical, funny big-brother-picks-on-little-sister stuff. Once when they went to the beach and it was Jennifer's first time at the beach, Jorge and Mayra told Jennifer that everytime a wave rolled in she should open her mouth. After 15 minutes of that, Jennifer was vomiting and her parents were like, "What the heck?" I laughed and laughed at her stories. I told them about the time Billy was 2 years old and said to a scraggly man with a beard at the bank, "Hi Jesus. I go to church."  They really cracked up over that!

Progress: I can't believe how fast I have learned to understand most of what is said to me. I have heard Spanish from sun up to sun down for 5 days now and it really makes a difference. If I don't understand something I can usually pick out the word that I don't know and ask for clarification. When we were telling stories and laughing so much after dinner tonight, it felt really good to understand the stories, especially well enough to get the humor and laugh.

However, I still struggle with putting my thoughts together to say things. Some things just roll off my tongue so easily; others are sputtered out hesitantly. It just depends on the theme of the conversation. Speaking seems to be the last piece to come together for most language learners and I'm told it will get easier the more I practice. Although I am by nature more reserved, I am really pushing myself to speak as much as I can with as many people as I can. When I go to school, I speak to the bus driver, security guard, the receptionist, the teacher, and all the students in Spanish. I use Spanish at the mall, the bank, the store, & at church. I'm trying really hard to obtain a higher level of fluency.

Cooking class: mashing the platanos



Above: Frying the empanadas
Below: the finished product!

The buses like to get real close to each other. View from inside my bus.

Street scene at rush hour

Above: Some guys saw me taking pictures and motioned for me to take theirs!
Below: For WILL. The local police out and about.

What a Downpour!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

I finally have access to the internet on my laptop! Jorge, the son of the people I live with, reconfigured the internet access and all is working as it should. I can't tell you how happy I am to say adios to the computers at school!

I learned a new word today: pipilaches. It's just a slang word that means something is basically a piece of crap. That is how I woud describe those computers. When a little child needs to go to the bathroom they have to hacer pi pi  (go pee pee--it sounds the same in Spanish.) So you can see part of the origin of pipilaches.

It was lightly raining when we left for school this morning. The bus ride into town was even more memorable than yesterday's. Imagine commuting in an overloaded washing machine. If you've ever put too many clothes in the washing machine, you know what I mean. We bumped and grinded, hopped and bopped up and down all the way to school. I don't know what was different about the roads today, but I almost fell out of my seat several times from all the action.

At lunch time, Kesa, a girl from Belgium whose name I can't remember, and I walked to San Pedro Mall to eat lunch. The Belgian girl wanted fast food, a hamburger to be exact. We had a choice of Burger King, McDonalds, and Wendy's. They were side by side on the 3rd floor of the mall. We unanimously chose Wendys. I ordered ensalada Cesar con pollo spicey (Spicey chicken Caesar salad.) It cracks me up that they just mix Spanish and English words together like that. Anyway, I'm glad we ate American fast food because I really couldn't handle one more dish of beans. I've eaten so many beans these past 4 days, I could personally power the electricity in this city of 2,000,000 people!

When we left the mall to return to the school it was pouring, I mean REALLY pouring rain. It was a true aguacero (downpour) complete with thunder and lightening. I felt like I was dodging lightening bolts the whole way back to school, praying that my metal umbrella wouldn't be too much of an attraction for the lightening. Even with my umbrella, I dragged into school looking like a wet dog. My jacket was soaking wet, my feet, my backpack--everything! It continued raining all afternoon. I unloaded my backpack when I got home this evening to dry everything out. No clothes dryers here. I guess my jacket will eventually dry...

I had another Latin Dance lesson today. I really think I'm hopelessly stiff, but I gave it my best shot. There were more women students than men today so I had to dance with a woman. And I thought it was weird dancing with young guys yesterday... Her name is Debra and she is a psychologist from the U.S. (How handy to have an LDS bishop in the neighborhood and psychologist at school!) She is probably my age and we were once again, the "old folks" in the class. She was the "man" for our dancing, and I got to be me. We had to change partners twice and I ended up with a young man from Suiza (Switzerland). He was very gracious about having to dance with an old lady. My next partner was Tyler from Austin, Texas. He was actually a fairly decent dancer and also very gracious about being stuck with me. I felt I did a little better dancing the Salsa with his guidance.

Afterwards, I had a conversation class. Those classes are very informal gatherings of a teacher and any students who want extra practice. At first, there was just one young lady and me. We were at about the same level and had some pleasant conversation with the teacher about ourselves and what we have noticed about the culture of Costa Rica. I learned about piropos.  Piropos are the cat calls that men (mostly Latinos) fire at pretty women as they pass. We have to pass by a construction area on the way to the Mall and the workers go all out when they see a girl pass by. No big surprise: I have had NO problems with piropos!

She left after a while and a young man joined us. I could not understand half of what he said. Sorry to sound critical, especially since I don't consider myself all that excellent in Spanish, but we were in an intermediate group and he definitely was not at that level. His pronunciation was horrendous and he just made up words as he went, refused to conjugate verbs (all verbs were in the infinitive form), and just about butchered the language. The teacher was infinitely patient, but I really wanted to grab him and slap some sense into him. It was painful to hear. If I, as a gringa, caught the mistakes and cringed at the pronunciation, one can only wonder how the native teacher was able to endure it. Whew! I had to get that off my chest. I will try very hard not to be so judgemental in the future.

We have a new student staying in the house now. Her name is Pauline and she is from France. She didn't like the cooking at the last place she was staying. I'm serious...you know how the French are about their food! She heard our home had good food so she moved in. During dinner she told us all about the good food in France and Italy! She is quite the world traveler and has plans to work in tourism. She speaks French and English fluently. Her Spanish is very good. She has studied Italian and plans to start Mandarin soon. I admire how many Europeans take the time and effort to learn multiple languages. She seems very sophisticated in both dress and manner for someone so young. It will be interesting getting to know her.

Here are a few pictures of the school. More later.

The entrance to the school



The courtyard.



My First Day of School

Monday, July 23, 2012

I didn’t bring shampoo or shaving cream with me because my suitcase was so full, and I figured I would buy both here. On Saturday, I went to Poli (a mini version of Walmart) and thought I was buying shampoo. I carefully read labels--in Spanish, of course--moving from one brand to another to find something for tinted hair. I decided to buy Dove. I made sure to choose shampoo, but evidently, the label on the bottle of conditioner was exactly the same as what was on the shampoo bottle, except for the words acondicionador instead of champú. I read the label on one bottle and picked up what looked like the identical bottle beside it. When I arrived home, I realized I had conditioner instead and had to wash my hair yesterday with soap. I conditioned it well to get rid of the tangles, but once it was dry it looked and felt like I had washed my hair with honey: sticky! Off to church I went looking like I don’t know what.

This morning I happily got up at 5:30 excited for the first day of school and the opportunity to actually wash my hair with real shampoo. After a lovely lukewarm shower and hair washing, I readied myself for school, had a breakfast of mini corn tortillas with melted cheese and black beans, and walked to the bus stop with Kesa (the other student here in this house,) and Marcia (older daughter in this family and one of the teachers from the school I am attending ,Costa Rican Language Academy).

I felt like a kid on the first day of school wearing my little backpack, filled with a new pencil, notebook and pocket Spanish dictionary. We walked about 3-4 blocks to catch the public bus to town. I paid my fare, 210 colones, sat down with Marcia near the front of the bus and enjoyed one of the more entertaining commutes of my life. It was a combination of the game of “chicken” and the Indy 500. For people whose motto is pura vida, the costarricenses, or ticos as they liked to be called, sure are aggressive on the roads! Most of the streets do not have lines that mark lanes and there are few stop signs or traffic lights until you get to main roads in the city proper. People just pull out in front of each other with abandon, motorcycles are allowed to zoom pass cars in the middle of the road (still in the same “lane” as the car they are passing as oncoming traffic also squeezes by), and busses grind through their gears (If you can’t find it, grind it) as they pull up literally within inches of each other. I swear I could open the side window and shake hands with the people in the bus next to us. When stopped, the bus in front is so close, it is practically a hood ornament. It’s not uncommon to be at a 90 degree angle to another bus as the other one tries to get in front. This morning we were stopped directly over a train track with the sound of a train approaching! About 1 minute after we finally passed over the tracks, the train went by. It wasn´t going all that fast, but I still think a collision with a train would not bode well even in a bus! Everyone and their dog were on their way into the city as we literally inched our way down the two lane road. When there was an opening in the traffic, everyone raced to see who could get down the road the fastest. Like I said earlier: chicken versus the Indy 500.

After leaving the bus, we walked another 3-4 blocks to the school, were allowed in by a security guard, and Kesa and Marcia quickly went to their various classes. I was given an identification badge with the name and address of the family I live with (kind of like a kindergartner pinning their name and address to the front of their shirt) and escorted to a large room where I waited with about 30 other newbies to the school. One by one we were pulled aside for our oral exam to determine class placement. I was interviewed by a young man named Oscar, who ended up being my instructor as well.

I was put in a class with 3 other people: 2 sailors (a man and women who are both mid-shipmen) from the U.S. Navy Academy in Anapolis and a man from Holland, who is married to a Costa Rican woman and now lives in San Jose. Oscar conducted the entire class in Spanish and really pushed us to the limits of our abilities. We reviewed a lot, but encountered some things that were new to us and had quick mini lessons as needed. We spoke, wrote, listened, and read in Spanish from 9:00-noon, before breaking for a one hour lunch.

I met up with Kesa, who introduced me to two of her new friends, sisters from Nassau, Bahamas. We walked several blocks to a nice tienda (market) and bought our lunch. The tienda was similar to a typical U.S. grocery store. One could see many of the comforts and brands from home, mixed with some decidedly Costa Rican items. The deli was at the back of the store. At first, I went for something safe--a tuna sandwich on wheat bread. Then I put it back and decided to eat something authentic. I choose an empanada Argentina con jamon y queso (kind of a ham and cheese folded over pastry) and a mixed fresh fruit salad. We went to a counter to have our take out boxes stamped with the name of what was inside, went to a cashier and checked out. The cajera (cashier) was not impressed that I used a 10,000 colon bill to pay for my 3,000 colon meal, but that was all I had and I needed change for the bus anyway. I got a fistful of change back so I should be good with bus fare for the foreseeable future!

After lunch, I had another hour of class instruction. We were all a little tired and goofy by then and had some fun teaching our instructor a few words he didn’t know in English. By the way, he is university educated and is a very intelligent young man, having studied multiple languages including Greek and Latin. He had no problem explaining language concepts and giving translations in English, as needed. Anyway, we were being asked various questions where we had to use new vocabulary to describe various types of people. We were talking about materialism and why we would or wouldn’t like someone who is materialistic. I was supposed to explain why I wouldn’t like someone like that. I said it was because that type of person is often prideful and…for lack of a better explanation, said in English, “They think they are all that and a bag of chips.” The other students laughed; the teacher looked confused and I was asked to explain myself. First of all he thought I said sh**, not chips. He did know that word!  Although that is inappropriate, it’s funny even now as I write about it. Then he translated bag of chips into Spanish and still couldn’t understand why a prideful person would be like a bag of chips. Well, that is often the case with slang; they just don’t translate very well if you try to translate each word literally. He never did get the gist of the saying, but we all had a good laugh and eased the tension of all the Spanish we had been exposed to all morning. By the way, the instructor taught us a saying earlier in the day: estar de goma. It is a Costa Rican phrase that means hung over from too much drinking. The words literally mean “to be rubbery or a rubber band.” As you see, an English speaker would never figure that one out by translating each word. You have to learn the phrase in its entirety and just use it for what it means.

Classes ended at 2:00. I went to the computer lab to upload yesterday’s blog posting. Three computers were down, and the others were all taken. After waiting for 20 minutes or so, one came available. The entire desktop and every website was in French! The school has students from all over the world and evidently someone changed the language. I didn’t have time to dink around trying to figure out how to change the language, so I used my one year of high school French and knowledge of Spanish to figure out what was what and was able to check my email and add another posting to the blog.

At 3:00 I went to a complimentary Latin dance class offered every afternoon and learned a few meringue and salsa steps. The class was full of mostly young people from around the world. One other grey-haired person showed up and we were promptly paired up. “Roy” is from California and didn’t have anymore rhythm than I did. We were AARP poster children for how to stay active and healthy as you advance in years. The old hips just didn’t do what the instructor’s did, but we made a valiant attempt at looking like sexy latinos. (I don’t know where my daughter, Noelle, got her ability and skill to dance so well. She surely didn’t get it from me or her father.) We had to change partners 3 different times and I felt like a “cougar” dancing with several different young men, who kindly took on the challenge of dancing with this old girl. (I don’t know how Demi Moore was able to hook up with Ashton Kutcher! It’s weird dancing with someone half your age.)

I was sweating profusely after an hour of swinging my hips latin-style and think I will have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow! Nevertheless, it was good exercise and if I can walk tomorrow, I will attempt another lesson.

Ouch! I just got my first mosquito bite since arriving in Costa Rica.

I’m off to bed. I’m not sure what I’ll write about tomorrow, but I’ll try to keep it a little shorter than the long postings I’ve had the past few days. Thanks to you who are reading and for your kind remarks.

L to R: Kesa, Alia, Alaina. My lunch companions today.

The weather, money and church

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Before I tell you about my experience at church today, I want to tell you about the climate. In Costa Rica there are only two seasons: the dry season, known as el verano (summer), and the rainy season, known as el invierno (winter). El verano is from the months of diciembre to abril.  El invierno is from mayo to noviembre. You probably figured out those months because they are so similar to how we say them in English. Those types of words are known as cognates: words that look and sound similar in both languages and mean the same thing. Notice that the months are not capitalized in Spanish; neither are the days of the week. But, I digress. Back to the weather…

Yes, it is winter here. It feels like Seattle, only a little warmer and just a little more humid. It has been partly cloudy and it rains a little each day. Sometimes there are thunderstorms, but it’s really only a small part of the day. The humidity is not too bad--certainly not as severe as Atlanta. There is often a breeze, which helps to drive the humidity away. The temperature feels like it’s about 75 degrees, but I really couldn’t tell you exactly because everything is in the metric system here. My 10^th grade chemistry teacher would probably love to tell you that I never did understand the metric system, and I still don’t really get it. However, I do know what a 2 liter bottle looks like (thank you, Coca Cola, for contributing to the edification of the American people!)  So I’ll just say that my internal thermometer says it feels like the mid 70’s Fahrenheit. Of course, my personal thermometer has been a little off since I passed through my 40’s and experienced menopause, so I guess I should say it feels like a 50-something year old women’s idea of the mid-70’s! Hey, just trust me. The temperature is mild.

Speaking of math concepts that I don’t get, the monetary system is driving me nuts. Most of you know that I am a penny-pincher. So, when I see price tags that read, 5,760 for a shirt, I just about have heart failure. I have to continually remind myself that it is not $5,760, but five thousand seven hundred and sixty colones, and then I have to do some quick math: approximately 500 colones to one dollar. So, the shirt costs approximately $11 and that’s reasonable. Another thing about the math here is that they use the comma and the decimal point just opposite of how we do.  For example, 5.760 is five thousand, seven hundred and sixty.  5,60 is five point sixty or five and 60/100^ths depending on how you want to say it. Got it? Good! There will be a short math quiz at the end of this posting, but don’t expect me to grade it and give you a correct score! That involves math and there is a reason I do not teach math…

Now on to the religious part of my life here in Costa Rica ~

I asked Mayra and her daughters to help me figure out where the church is and how to get there. We looked at lds.org and found 5 LDS churches in San Jose, none of which are anywhere near here. Daughter Marcia was sure there is one near here and then they remembered there is a woman in the neighborhood who is mormona. Mayra spoke to her last night and arranged for me to take a taxi with her this morning to church.

At 8:45 Hermana Sandra, her 3 grandchildren, and I piled into a small taxi and arrived at church less than 10 minutes later. Cost: 1.185 colones for 4 people. (Math check up: how much is that in dollars?) 

The church seemed more like a gated compound, rather than a typical LDS church in the U.S.. The chapel was its own building. Windows were glass slats opened wide and two large doors were also open and gave the chapel a feeling of “open air”. A gentle breeze wafted through and was very refreshing. The chapel was small with less than 100 people present.

I think I attended the Carpina Ward because that was what was written on the sides of the hymnals. There was no ward bulletin/program, so I am not really sure. I found out that the husband of Hermana Sandra is the bishop of the ward when she introduced me to him. (Nice to have a bishop in the neighborhood, huh?) When she took one of her grandchildren with her to the stand and left me with the other two, I figured out that she must be a speaker today. The two children (5 and 8 years old) were very curious about me and with rapid fire Spanish, began asking me questions. Of all the people I have met and spoken with on this trip, these were the two who spoke so fast I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying. So I did what has always worked in the past: I smiled and nodded my head to everything they said!

I had no idea which hymns we were going to sing because when they are translated into other languages the gist of the hymn is translated and not the actual words. Therefore, the title doesn’t really tell me anything. Once the piano started playing, I quickly recognized the hymn we were going to sing and was able to howl along in Spanish.

The first speaker was a young man who also spoke so fast I couldn’t really understand most of what he said. (What is with these kids who speak so fast?) I did understand Hermana Sandra’s talk. She spoke about genealogia (genealogy). Another adult man spoke. Yep, he was younger and sure enough, more rapid-fire Spanish.

Then we were off to Sunday School in another building. Hermana Sandra left me once again while she went to work with the kids in Primary. The adult Sunday School class met in the kitchen. A wonderful middle-aged woman gave the lesson, which I understood almost perfectly. She started with the story of the semilla de mostaza (mustard seed), gave us each a real mustard seed, and went on to give an excellent lesson on Alma’s teachings in regard to developing faith in Jesus Christ. We read aloud Alma 32 almost in its entirety. I was asked to read 4 verses of it, which I did, trying my best not too sound too much like a gringa.

Relief Society also went well. We stayed in the kitchen and had another excellent lesson on how to communicate effectively with our family members, taught by an older woman in the Relief Society presidency. I understand the older people so much better than the youth. Old and slow…that works for me with pets and Spanish-speakers!

Hermana Sandra and I went back to the neighborhood by taxi. As we pulled away from the curb near the church, we almost crashed head-on with another car trying to navigate the narrow road. I couldn’t remember how to say OMG in Spanish, and had to settle on “ARGGHHHHHHHH!”  I have been told multiple times that the drivers here are loco and the taxista  (taxi driver) surely proved that point today. Between the potholes, narrow roads, and impatient drivers, I realized that pura vida does not apply to their life on the road!  Hermana Sandra and I agreed to meet same time, same place next Sunday for more adventures at La Iglesia de Jesucristo de los Santos de los Ultimos Dias.

Tomorrow: My first day at school

A few pictures

July 21, 2012

The first thing I saw after passing through customs. It´ actually an advertisement for beer (cerveza), but I liked the picture!

La virgencita at the entrance to the neighborhood protects all who enter.

Where I am staying.

My room

Mountains in the distance.



Some feelings are just universal!



My First Day in Costa Rica

July 21st -

My plane left Seattle just before 7:00 last night and arrived in Denver at 10:22. It was a quick and uneventful flight. I had just a short walk to the next gate, but heard my name being paged on my way there. I had to verify that I did have a return flight and show my passport before being allowed on the plane. Just before midnight the flight to San Jose took off. I was surprised that most of the passengers were American as well as the crew. I wondered if I’d hear Spanish on the plane; I did not.

A mother and her daughter, who looked to be about 7, sat beside me. The child and her mother promptly took their shoes off and I was hit with a smell I haven’t experienced since our son Sean used to do the same thing on our family road trips. Facing a 5 hour flight, I knew that wasn’t going to work. I turned on the air nozzle and aimed it right at my face so I could get some fresh air. That did the trick! Other than a lot of initial wiggling, the child finally fell asleep with her head on her mother’s lap and her feet curled up against my legs. I soon dozed off, too, despite having feet almost in my lap.

We arrived in San Jose a little past 5:00 this morning. Looking out my window, I saw a couple of small mountains and the lights of the city as we landed. I like mountains, so my first impression was very favorable. We were told a customs agent would greet us so we should have our papers ready as we disembarked. As I left the plane, I didn’t see anyone, so I wandered down the passageway through the gates, eventually saw a sign for immigracion and followed the rest of the norteamericanos.  I greeted a man in Spanish and he replied back in English with a strong Spanish accent. He stamped my passport and grunted for me to move down the hall toward la aduana (customs.) After dropping off my paperwork there and having my luggage scanned, I started for the exit and met with at least 6 people offering a taxi. I didn’t need a taxi and quickly saw the man who came to pick me up and take me to my host family.

His name is Leonel (like Lionel Richie, he said). He has worked for 20 years as a driver at the school I am attending.  It turns out he is somewhat of a local hero. He showed me a copy of a runner’s magazine with his picture on the front cover. He likes Indians and always dresses in a headdress and war paint when he practices or runs marathons. He is known as el indio leo. We drove past an area that he renovated. The area had a bad drug problem and he turned it into a beautiful parque (park). A wall in the parque has been painted with a mural of him as a runner. The name el indio leo adorns the mural. He has run a marathon in Germany and would love to run in the Boston Marathon, but he has to get a Visa and he says it is very difficult to get.  He was such a nice man and immediately put me at ease. We had quite a lovely conversation--all in Spanish. When we arrived at the host family’s house, he told them I speak Spanish better than all of them! Trust me: he was just being nice.  J

My first day in Costa Rica has been interesting. I am staying with the Quesada - Portilla family. The family is headed by a very nice older couple, Miguel Quesada and his wife, Mayra Portilla. So many people came and went during the day that I can’t possibly remember the names and relationships. I do know that their son and two daughters live in their own places on the property and they and their children were many of those who were in and out. Sra. Portilla’s parents also live nearby and were here as well. There were also some friends, treated like family members, of course. Another Spanish student from Alabama also stays here. A feeling of total harmony exists in the household, which is amazing to me given the number of people in such close proximity. I admire the strong sense of family, love, patience, and support of one another that is so typical of many Latino families and very evident here. Their daughter, Marcia, was completely shocked when I casually mentioned that I haven’t seen my mother in 2 years due to the distance that separates us. That just wouldn’t happen in this culture.

Their home is in an area known as Santa Marta. There is a small statue of la virgencita (Virgen Mary) at the entrance to the neighborhood, blessing all who live or visit here. Santa Marta is considered an upscale area, middle class so to speak. However, what is considered middle class here is not the same as middle class in the U.S.

The Quesada-Portilla family live in a pleasant home with a gated entrance. They have a small front yard, adorned with lots of flowers and rose bushes, bearing bright red roses, but mostly taken up with the driveway. The back yard, however, is much larger. Two small homes are in the back. These are where the daughters and their families live. There is a small banana grove at the very back of the yard, yielding lovely bunches of small bananas. The trees are called bananos.  There are also lime trees, a bush that has berries that look like very elongated blackberries (without the painful briers and stickers), and several patches of plants bearing calabazas, large squashes that resemble zucchini. All of this is in a yard that appears to be considerably less than an acre. Three dogs complete the inhabitants of the compound. The grandparents, who live across the street and 2 doors down, have a horse in their yard. I heard a rooster crowing nearby.

The living room and dining area is pleasant and feels very American middle class as far as the furnishings go. I have a small room with two twin beds and some shelves to use for my clothing. Cozy, sparse, functional. There are two bathrooms. One is specifically for the students to use. The sink has only cold water. There are no electrical outlets in there. The tub/shower has a faucet that only emits cold water. I confused this as the source of water for my shower and thought for a while, as I waited, waited, waited in vain for warm water, that I would be taking a cold shower. Fortunately, I gave a handle-like thing a try and found the warm water for the shower head. No long, hot showers here. The water is somewhat warm, not hot. They told me tonight that there was no water for two entire days last week! Mayra said they just drank wine during the two days. The electricity went out for a while the night before I arrived due to a thunder storm. Who hasn’t lost electricity during a storm? Getting by without electricity is an inconvenience to be sure. But, no water? I sure hope they don’t lose the water again. This Mormon girl can’t subsist on wine!

I have always had sympathy for immigrants to our country. One can only imagine what it feels like to be new in a country and not speak the language well. I now know what it feels like on an intimate level. How humbling to not understand basic things such as how to turn on the shower, how to use the internet (it’s all in Spanish), how to use the telephone (also, all I Spanish.), and how to use the bus system and to have to ask for assistance with everything. Marcia, who is also one of the teachers at the school I will be attending, took me to el mall de San Pedro by bus. Many people use the buses and it was quite full. There can be many locations listed on the front of the bus. It was very confusing, but she assured me I will get to know it well during the next month. I paid 210 collones for the ride. That sounds like a lot, but 511 collones is really just $1.00. The bus ride cost something like the equivalent of 40 cents.

At San Pedro Mall, I went to the bank right away to exchange money. I learned that one does not just stroll into the bank. The door is locked and a security guard lets you in. He had to check my passport and my purse to make sure I wasn’t bringing anything in that I shouldn’t have. Several years ago there was some kind of horrible bank robbery with lots of people killed or hurt, so they changed the law and all the banks in the country now have a security guard to let you in. I waited in a very long line with probably 70 people in it before being able to exchange the money.  Each person has a clearly marked set of lines to stand between as they wait in line. Only one person at a time is allowed at the teller’s window, so Marcia had to leave me to my own devices. I made the exchange successfully, so I guess I said the correct words!

Next, I bought a prepaid cell phone, a basic phone with no bells and whistles, and hope it will last the month I am here. My own cell phone will not work here. It keeps searching for a signal to no avail. I do not want to be walking around and riding buses without having a way to call for help should I lose my way. Marcia helped me negotiate a good deal on a phone with prepaid minutes. I was even given 4 entradas (tickets) to a local amusement park, which I promptly gave to Marcia for her children to thank her for all her assistance today.

The mall was very crowded, but everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Different cartoon characters wandered around entertaining the children. Except for the names of the businesses being in Spanish, it looked very much like any mall in the U.S., including the fast food chains of KFC, Burger King, and Wendy’s. McDonalds and Starbucks also have their presence known throughout the city.

The last thing I want to note is just how very kind everyone is. The women greet each other with a kiss on the cheek; the men shake hands. People talk to one another on the street and just seem very contented and happy. I didn’t see anyone in a rush or all stressed out. I think I could enjoy living in such a society.

So ends my first day in Costa Rica. I am very tired tonight. Buenas noches!

Tomorrow: going to church in Costa Rica…