Mochila, Paraguas, y Bicicleta

November 1, 2010 to November 4, 2010

A triangle is the strongest structure. Come on, we all remember geometery!  The fact that all three sides are of equal importance. We understand the importance of three in other ways as well, like everything happens in threes or winning a trifecta in horse racing brings you tremendous odds in your favor.

My triangle, or trifecta if you will, came in the form of three items that were critical to my comfort mentally and physically while spending time here.

Mochila = backpack
Paraguas = umbrella
Bicicleta = bike

The walk from my place to school, town, and just about anything of significance shows its disadvantages pretty quickly when it's pouring out and you have to walk, without an umbrella, and a plastic bag to hold your school literature. Oh, DC! How you have completely stripped me of my ability to prepare for anything that doesn't involve a car and work clothes. One would think that living in beachwear is the easiest thing in the world. I am finding a way to prove that theory wrong.

I quickly learned after just one day of living without these items, that I simply would not enjoy my time here as much as if I had them. I am not asking for a lot, right? Plus, this is just me adjusting to my environment.

Living in a small beach town in Costa Rica makes you realize something very quickly. Not everything is accessible immediately, or even accessible at all. Come to find out, Samara does not have a store that sells normal backpacks. Anywhere in this town. I did find a pink tote in a surf shop that said, Costa Rica, across it in really, really big letters. It was a tempting purchase, which shows how desparate I was to get a backpack.

However to my luck I got a ride into Nicoya on the day that bridges and roads were knocked out by the rain. I was with determined friends that matched my need to make it to Nicoya, fortunately. Our drive into Nicoya was an aventura in its own right. However, I will say one thing about the drive: San Isidro labrador quita el agua y pon el sol!  It's a saying to have the rain carried away and to bring the sun out.

I think it is what got us to Nicoya and back safely.

Fortunately, for me, I had another adversary who helped me get a bike and cheap. Mi dueno, Peter, hooked me up with a bicycle shop in town that sold me a bike for $80 used! It's not perfect, but it will definitely do for now. What I'd like to point out is that deals can easily be made. So, I may cruise in to talk to the guy that works on the bikes and ask him to trade in the one I got, once he has another used one that actually fits me. haha, yes, that is right. I am slightly taller than most of the locals. So the rusted bike seat doesn't exactly adjust up. Ah, the beach life.

Well, I have finally made it a full week! My trifecta of required creature comforts are now in my possession and I am actually fully ready to really focus on why I am here, to learn spanish.

For those of you patient enough to read through all of my blogs thus far, here is a picture that embodies the curtailment of the important parts of my experience in Samara. Enjoy!

School is in Session

Monday, November 1, 2010

Do you remember what you used to do to make sure you were ready for the first day of school? For me, I used to make sure that I had my backpack ready to go with pencils, notepad, and lunch. Then I would check it again. I woke up for the first day of class and I realized something. I didn't have a notebook. Ok, not much of a problem. I didn't have pencils. That's not too bad, because I have pens. I don't have my He-Man lunchbox. It's not an issue, because I am not 22 years old anymore. I don't have a backpack...

Who comes to school without a backpack?

Slackers.

I completely forgot the quintessensical possession that is pretty critical to a student's life. To boot, it was raining. Which also made me realize that I don't have an umbrella. 0 for 2 on my first day of school. I found a moment when the rain broke and it became a light rain, giving me enough time to barely make it to class. I was the only one there with nothing. No backpack, pencils, notebooks, etc. I could only imagine how much of a slacker I looked like on the first day to the teacher.

However, this is Costa Rica. So, just chill out and go with the flow.

The school is very nice and professional. Beyond the lectures, they organize additional classes that are free after school. There is dancing, yoga, tours of the town, cooking, movies, and art classes spread out through the week. All classes are after 5pm, for the one reason that lectures are either in the morning or the afternoon to allow students time to enjoy extra curricular activities.

I think my experience is going to be a great one. It may be raining today, but there is a lot of potential for having a great time.

Samara in Sight

Sunday, October 31, 2010

The bus journey was the beginning to understanding what kind of people were going to Samara. And considering the intercultura language school is the only one in town, I pointed out the other students very quickly. The bus ride reminded me of any other bus ride like in the states (pre-Megabus/bolt/wifi) minus the major difference that people were sitting and standing in the isle, because the bus stopped on the side of roads and towns to pick up people.

Imagine getting a description of where the bus stop is for a very small town in route to Samara. A fellow tico would say, "You know the gas station on the corner of Juan's farm and next to Gabriela's church? Just walk across the street, between the deserted cars and through the grassy ditch. Now stand on or near the large dirt/mud inlet from the main road. The bus will know to stop, if he sees you there."

I was about two hours into the trip and finally broke down and started using my iPod to watch a movie. Normally, while in transportation in the US, I don't think twice about it. However, it became the center of attention for the people around me. They all knew what it was, but it's not something they all have. So, we all watched some movies and Madmen to keep us entertained for the time being.

The ride was educational. Once again, I observed the flow of life in Costa Rica is lightly distrubed with such things as perfect landscaping, manufactured fencing, and that sense of territory. Live stock roam the grassy fields on both sides of the fence that is more like a guide of where the property line may be as opposed to a DMZ that clearly shows what is yours is yours and what is mine is mine. It was tranquil. Even the dogs roam freely without feeling like property with boundaries. Because of this preceived freedom, the Costa Rican dogs, albeit pretty dirty, are the happiest pets in the world.

My bus ride was perfect in the sense it prepared me to settle in for a Costa Rican lifestyle. At least, that's what I thought I was capable of as soon as I stepped off the bus.

I was anxious to jump off the bus and meet the woman who has been handling my rental unit agreement. I was finally off the bus with bags in hand and looking for her. I asked one woman standing around and she gave me a blank stare. Ok, clearly not her. However, everyone else was already afoot or gone. My next adventure begins! My ride wasn't there. I decided to hoof it down to the school. All students who had families to live with were directed to go to the school. I figured I could use the phone and hopefully find my way to my new home for six months.

I arrived at the school after telling the other students I just met that I was fine. Clearly, I was not fine. The receptionist helped me out and called my rental lady, but no answer. I was now out of luck, because I had no idea where my place was. The only thing I could think of was to jump online and see if she had a different phone number.

As soon as I started lifting my bags, Melissa walked in and asked, if any of us poor souls was Kevin. I was so excited at that very moment. Hearing that one question meant that I was so close to finishing my weekend of traveling. I was that much closer from the trials and tribulations of getting here. I was that much closer to my own bed.

Melissa, or Meli, was awesome and very helpful showing me around as we drove to my new digs. We pulled up to my unit and I was anxious to see if it lived up to the pictures. Fortunately for me, the pictures didn't do it justice. The place is amazing and I thank each day that I have a place like this.

The chapter on making it to Samara was finally closed. Walking into the unit carried a lot of purpose and meaning beyond the travels entailed to get here. It was a major acknowledgement that I made it.

Learning to speak spanish is a whole new bag, but the biggest effort of planning, preparing, and executing is now behind me.

Time to adjust to the Costa Rica way of life.

Pura Vida!

Heredia Hosts

Saturday, October 30, 2010

I was quickly directed to my room where the door was closed and securely locked behind me to guarantee the white devil doesn't dirty up the cleanliness of the place. Realistically, I felt like they gave me the biggest room in the house. It was a nice size bed with a tv and all the comforts needed to spend just one night. Better than any hostel or two star hotel that rents by the hour!

My mama tica, Costa Ricans are called ticos(men) and ticas(women), was on the phone immediately working out the confusion on the details of my arrival. I was not supposed to arrive according to her. The school did not fully inform her of my arrival. Needless to say, a mother of four was adapt to adding another to the table to feed.

I was finally hungry and she was ready to feed me some comida tipica of Costa Rica. I sat down to a bowl of sopa blanca "White bean soup." It was full of shredded chicken, vegetables, white beans, and seasoning. The bowl of soup was accompanied by tortillas and rice. It was heaven. Pure heaven. Not because I hadn't eaten in a long time or anything good, but because Costa Rican food is simple and delicious. How do you go wrong with an excellent seasoned broth with chicken, beans, rice, and tortillas? It was amazing for a basic meal. I wanted to eat all night, because it distracted me from being in a strange house and a strange city, with no where to go.

I was content. I excessively thanked my mama tica not because I thought it was the right thing to do, because her food made me that happy at that moment.

Well, that happiness wore off pretty quickly. I stayed in the room most of the night and left the door open, so they didn't feel like I was being rude. As I spent my time reading a book and trying to stay awake (It was only 9pm at the time), I noticed something very interesting about tico lifestyle. Everyone's business is integrated. Mama tica walks in and out of each of her boy's rooms without knocking. The younger boys spend most of the night hanging right outside of the front door shooting the breeze with their friends. Let me enlighten you that doors and windows are not shut in Costa Rica. Weather and the climate are meant to be one with the inside of the house.

Life in Costa Rica is one.

I woke up around 9:30pm to find a blanket placed on my bed. It was getting a little chilly and the mama tica already knew how to take care of me. I was warming up to my 24 hour family. I took advantage of the opportunity to get some sleep, excused myself, shut the door, and passed out in a hurry.

I woke up pretty early and quickly the following morning, anxious for my 12pm bus departure to Samara. I wasn't looking forward to the 5 hour bus ride, but that was the next challenge to take on. My mama tica was up shortly after me and ready to get the kitchen warmed up to feed the family. If breakfast was anything like dinner, I was in for another treat.

Sure enough, it was exactly what I was hoping. Nothing short of fantastic. She placed a plate of rice and beans mixed together with a fried egg, crackers, fried plantains, and a plate of pineapple/watermelon. At this point in time, I know they use some amazing seasoning, because rice and beans don't taste like that back in the states. Don't get me wrong, I love my rice and beans from the states. This style was quickly added to the top of my list.

Gallo pintos (pronounced, Gah-jee-o pintos) was the name of the dish. It is a common breakfast dish for the ticos. Absolutely wonderful. I can't wait to learn how to cook it.

Mama tica didn't want me to be late for the bus, so she had me out the door by 8:50am for my 12:00pm bus. With my 75lbs of life stuffed into three duffle bags, I quickly found out how out of shape I have been. We made it into San Jose to catch my bus and ended up walking from one bus station to another. Along the way, I saw too many reasons why I don't want to study in San Jose. The city is way too poluted. The smog that billows out of the back of cabs, buses, cars, and motorcycles is thick enough to obscure your vision and the cloud of contamination passes right through you. I think I knocked off 3 months of my life being in San Jose for three hours. I won't fully mention the dogs that sleep in the gutter where the buses park or the rat that was run over so many times by the buses that it is now a permanent fixture of the street. Oops, I guess I did mention it.

We made it to the bus station without much trouble. She purchased my ticket for me and it appeared that she was going to sit with me for the remaining time to make sure I got on the right bus. She sat with me for the remaining 2 1/2 hours. You heard that right. Mama tica who doesn't speak english and Kevin who speaks like a 2 year old over a broken connection sat together for 2 1/2 hours. She appeared to be a very active woman and didn't appreciate the finer qualities of life like sitting in a bus station. She ended up buying an am/fm radio from one of the vendors to keep her entertained. Apparently me pointed at things and say, "mira, tv....futbol," wasn't all that appealing as a conversation to her. I have not clue why.

The time finally passed and she was showing me where to drop my bags off, where to stand in line, and making sure that I was getting on that bus as her final mission as a host.

I was grateful for her hospitality and her family's tolerance. They were all truly very nice and I can't wait to speak to her in six months. Maybe when that time comes, the conversation will be filled with more than just, "Look, tv...football."

Flight Risk

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Uncertainty hits like a ton of bricks when you can do nothing about it. I should be excited that one of the critical checkpoints of this trip is behind me; I made it on to the airplane. As I sat in 10D, thinking about how the attendant favored me with a great seat selection, maybe as a parting attempt for a forced return flight purchase, I had the perfect time to begin to panic.

Why am I doing this again?
Will I truly learn?
Is it really worth it?

I questioned all my confidence in my decisions I made over a year ago about doing this. I had reached my point of no return long ago, but it sure could be questioned at the last minute. I went from having high expectations of spending the full six months in Costa Rica and becoming fluent to, just take it day-by-day for the experience. By chance, if I am back at home in less than a month, at least I won't be hated as much as Steve Bartman who arguably lost the playoff series for the Cubs in 2003 by stealing a potential catch from a Cub outfielder.

I knew it was just jitters. Time to suck it up and do what I promised everyone I would do.

As I landed in San Jose, Costa Rica, it was game time. Roll with the punches. The bell has been rung. Hold on, I'll be right back. I have a visitor. I believe it is a white gecko. Gotta get him out of here, so he doesn't freak me out in the middle of the night crawling over my face...

Ok, where was I?

The San Jose airport is really nice! Who knew it was like being in a southwestern United States Airport? A mix of spanish and english. I could get Burger King, if I wanted. I could get a Schlotzky's Deli sandwich. Alas, it's time for me to step away from the comforts of home. I passed on the familiar food.

As I waited for 40 minutes in the immigration line, I pondered the possibility that they would say, "Este es imposible." And I would be back on a plane to the United States, because something was wrong with my proof of return to the states.

In reality, I got my first sense of true Costa Rican chill. The immigration officer not only avoided staring me down, he said, "You Spanish?!" I was afraid to tell him no. That may have been my in. I made my nervous laugh and said, "haha, no, but I am here to learn Spanish." He softly smiled, stamped my book, and went back to taking a hit off his joint.

I am off! My next hurdle was to find my host family who was scheduled to pick me up, but the line to scan the bags was long and I was nervous about making them wait so long. I landed at 11:30am and it was already 12:45pm. As I stood in line, I saw a gentleman diligently holding up a sign with someone's name on it. His dedication to holding the same position was impressive and made me even more attentive to see if he was waiting for me. I look back at the end of the line and realize that I am pretty much it. If my host family was patient, it sure was being tried today.

As I got closer to the scanner, the gentleman was stoic in his effort to present and flag down his target. He was not budging from his spot and he kept the sign steady and in place. So much effort required an apology, if he was my ride. I finally made it through the scanner and picked up my bags as quickly as possible to introduce myself to the gentleman with great sincerity. I was prepared to use every little bit of spanish I knew. I finally reached him within good sight and notice that he was a carboard cut out for a car rental company.

This is a really good time to laugh at yourself and realize how wound up with anxiety you are. Don't ever forget to be able to laugh at yourself.

Once I made it outside with tons of host families holding up signs for their targets, I did not see my name. I was homeless midday in San Jose, Costa Rica. The taxistas quickly approached like the usual wolves to sheep in a developing country, however I didn't feel alarmed. I felt at ease talking to the taxistas and being approached by them. They genuinely wanted to help. Obviously, geniune help puts more money in their pocket. My good friend, Rafael, called the host family on my behalf and worked out all the details. He then watched over me like one of his own sons all the way to the door of the host family. I think I shed a tear when he left.

I was finally at my next checkpoint. Standing in the living room of a strange family, in a strange city, in a strange country, I realized I had the next challenge to go through. Spend 24 hours with a host family that wasn't expecting me and only one son speaks english.

Esta bien, I said. How bad can it be?

En Route

Saturday, October 30, 2010

I folded and packed a third small duffle bag with all of my carry-on items. I had to do it. I am taking way too much stuff, but I know I will need it all eventually. I think I will need it all eventually. I hope I will need it all eventually. We'll see.

I got to the airport early with time to spare and I would find out quick enough that I needed that extra time. As I began to check in, the attendant asked,"When is your return flight?" I told her that I did not have a return flight yet. This was just a one-way and I would purchase my return ticket later. I was informed that customs would not allow me to fly unless I had proof of my return. They requested to see my visa. Luck would have it that Costa Rica doesn't require visas for Americans. I have no proof of my return and no clearance to leave the airport.

As my remaining minutes tick away for being cleared to leave, my only viable option was to purchase a return ticket. So, friends, family, and co-workers, I'll be back in the office on May 9.

The feeling that my trip would be postponed, even just for a couple of days, was not a feeling I wanted anymore. I waited months for this moment; I wasn't about to wait another day.

With that first major drama behind me, I was now trying to mentally prepare for the reality of the situation. I am no longer in planning phase. I am executing the beginning of the most emotionally taxing part of the trip...I am officially en route to Costa Rica.

Hasta Luego Mis Amigos; Hola Pura Vida!

Friday, October 29, 2010
The dust is settling and I wish I had the strength to write this blog in the heat of emotion that fueled me to make it to Costa Rica. Leading up to the last days has been a well oiled machine. Plans were set in motion that I didn't even have control over. I was just a cog in the wheel to make this happen. The change in life meant something to a lot of people around me. However, as I sat in la casa de mi familia tica, I quickly jotted down highlights of the last mile to this great adventure of mine.

Where do I begin?

A whirlwind of events and emotions brought this dream to reality. It's Saturday, 10:40 am EST and I am less than one hour away from landing in San Jose, Costa Rica and that reality hit me. I was awaken from being a part of the system to realize that I am the system. The cog has become the wheel.

Reflecting on the lavish support from family over the past few days had a greater impact on my ability to leave all of them behind. Who can say they are fortunate to have two families? One I was born into and the other I left in Washington D.C. Thank you all for your selfless support to make my transition that much easier.

One thing is for sure, I don't want to pack/unpack for a long time. I will face that demon in six months when I move back, but that is just how I feel right now. If I become a minimalist with contemporary/modernistic flare, you know why. With this approach, I will have half of the things I have now. I went from labeling every single crate to throwing things in a bag to asking friends to pick up my mess after I left. It never fails that packing lasts until the last possible minute. In that case, it was 4:30am on Saturday for me.

Alas, I was done with D.C. and prepared for my flight to my biggest adventure and hopefully a fulfillment of a childhood dream.

As they say in Costa Rica, Pura Vida!

Packing Priorities

Have you ever looked at your failed attempts as if they are looking back at you with a little smile? The two duffle bags that are charged with the ungodly responsibility of holding the next six months of my life are hinting that I need a third duffle bag.

I say on to you, failed attempt...tomorrow is a new day.

Bewildered by the challenge and slightly excited to make it happen.

Do I really need the laptop for work?

Friday Night Special

It's 2:26am and my Friday night closes down with another round of cleaning out the house of items that don't need to be a part of my life anymore. My move will be upon me faster than I am currently ready for and spending my Friday nights packing and organizing are taking on a more appealing demand. Work is taking a light-hearted acceptance of their decision to redefine my position in order to let me take this time to fulfill personal growth. I am no longer greeted with, "Mornin'." My boss now says, "Hola."

The big items are almost fully taken care of:
1. Rent place out
2. Book one-way ticket to Costa Rica (Weird!)
3. Storage for cars and furniture
4. Apartment in Costa Rica
5. School reserved

I haven't had time for it to hit me yet. I've been in go mode so much that the process of making this happen is now the norm. I think it won't hit until I realize it's not vacation. I guess it is not a bad dilema to be in. Waking up to the beach and having the realization that will be my reality for 6 months.

with that, I have a moment of peace that will allow me to go to bed now!

There will be another day to worry about what isn't taken care of.

Full Swing

One and a half years has brought me to this realization that it is happening. My driving focus for eighteen months to enact change in my life in such a significant way is taking root. Two months from now, I will be in Costa Rica fulfilling a childhood dream to be immersed in a spanish culture that will teach me to speak the language fluently.

If you ever had a life long dream to do something important to you and you need motivation to take that big step towards it, share your dream with friends. And keep sharing it. Nothing is motivating as not disappointing friends and family. Not just your close friends either. Make sure you include acquaintances. They'll be sure to keep asking you about your dreams, because that's all they know about you! It's a healthy reminder.

With the place rented, work backing me, and the planets aligned, it's just a matter of time now.