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…
