here, you “take decisions” instead of make them, “have reason” instead of make sense and oh yeah, don’t even think about taking it easy with the hair gel

Hola amigos-

It’s been more than a while.  If I had to adequately describe the length of time between my last post and this one, I’d say “a small eternity” just about does it. Also, I am never dramatic or sarcastic.

Now, for the good, more interesting things:

Jacó

Kelsey, Kiska and I had the immense pleasure of getting to tag along with some Ticos as they made their monthly trip to Jacó to soak up some sun and surf for the weekend.

OK, so there was more surf than sun, but it all turned out well. We took the older/more scenic route to Jacó, passing through the beautiful rolling countryside of Costa Rica. I wish I had more interesting things to say about the journey, but Manuel picked us up at 5 a.m., so I really don’t remember much…oh yeah! Costa Rica has giant crocodiles. They live in the super-polluted river that runs through the middle of the country and are absolutely gigantic. The Ticos like to tell stories about 8ft monsters that eat stray passerby. So, this river was en route to our destination. We’re all passed out in various awkward positions, when suddenly Manuel’s voice cuts through our groggy fog: “Quieren para para ver los crocodilos?”
Me: “Que? Crocodilos? Donde?”
So, we pull over right after we cross this bridge, get out of the car and start trekking across the bridge to a more ideal vantage point. What we see are huge fugly creatures lounging around in the muck and mire of Costa Rica’s lovely polluted river. (please see end of post for photo-documentation)

So, we finally get there, where we meet up with Manuel’s friend Javier. They have a cute little “cabina” there that they share with two other dudes. The cabina exists purely for the purpose of surfing. These boys really like their surf.
By this time, it’s drizzling a little more than lightly, but we load the boards in the back of the truck and head to the  beach anyway.
Due to the rain, there were some gnarly waves. Apparently, they were too challenging for the boys, so we piled back in the truck and headed to another beach. It’s still raining, but we don’t mind. We get out of the truck and go sit in the sand to watch the angry, crashing swells hit the beach. It’s drizzling lightly at this point and we share a good two hours of silence, soaking up life, rain and the beauty that one so often finds in Costa Rica.  Interesting experience: usually when one thinks of a beach, it’s accompanied by sparkling white sand and strong sun. A beach in the rain is a whole different, but as equally relaxing setting. It got me thinking…what is man’s obsession with water, and especially the ocean? Theories: we are so fascinated and awed by the vastness that is the ocean, including its long history as the starting point of all life on earth, that we can’t help but be drawn to it. I mean, think of all the parts of our culture that draw inspiration from the sea. Incredible, really.
OK, enough philosophical babble. After this beach, we decided to head back to the cabina, eat something and rest (it’s about 9 a.m. at this point). We swing by the Supermercado, grab the essentials…you know, a loaf of bread, coffee, cream cheese, jam, juice, yogurt, etc….then make for the cabina. We dine, then everyone passes out for a couple hours listening to reggae and the rain.
Around 1 p.m. we head back out to the beach. There’s sun! We’re at a third beach, Playa Bejuco…known for its waves and the surfers they bring. Manuel and Javier head to the water immediately, Kelsey, Kiska and I sit on the beach and just think. Kelsey and Kiska go for a walk after a while, I take a nice nap. We take a dip just before dark, the boys come back and we’re off to the Super again. We buy the fixings for a pasta dinner and breakfast tomorrow, stop by the cabina one more time to store the boards and whatnot, then hit the road to Manuel’s family’s country home.
What a beautiful house it was. Imagine a large, spacious three-bedroom house, with a wrap-around porch, covered deck/outdoor grill area, pool and hot tub. Oh, and then the view. 360 degree view of rolling, forested mountains. Breathtaking. And so, so peaceful (well, if you ignore the Karaoke night that was taking place in the pueblo down below).
We whip up that pasta dinner, then spend the rest of the night sharing music and drink recipes.
In the morning, we leave for San Jose…after lounging around by the pool for a couple hours, of course. It was a magical weekend…traveling with Ticos is the best because a) no public transportation, and b) you’re forced to speak Spanish!

Jade Museum, or Getting to Know San Jose

I spent a lovely Friday afternoon with some friends roaming the streets of downtown San Jose. The plan, go to one of the city’s many museums, led us to the discovery of parts of San Jose I never knew even existed. We frolicked through parks, posed in front of some historic buildings and just had an overall grand time.
Every other month, an organization in San Jose puts together a tour of the city’s art museums and galleries. Buses are provided free-of-charge, but it’s more fun to walk. This past month, I went, which was an excellent idea, as I now have a running list of quaint little cafes and boutiques to visit in the future. Traveling is nice, but it’s always good to get to know the city in which you live; sometimes the best treasures are only a 20 min bus ride away.

jotabequ, or interns are real people, too

So, as I mentioned in my last post, I’m interning at an advertising agency here in San Jose. It’s called Jotabequ, and so far, so good.
The firm is located in a renovated 100+ year old building that used to be a factory of some sort. Because the building is historic, nothing permanent can be done to alter the interior. That means, no construction of new walls, no bolting things into the existing walls, etc. These rules make for an interesting work space. All the desks are located in the middle of a huge, open space, with semi-opaque dividers placed between the creative side of the firm and the administrative, or planning side. Conference rooms are these giant hub-like things, located on a second floor. The corners of the room are rounded, the seating bright and colorful…overall, it’s a creative, interesting use of space.
On the first floor, right when you walk in, there are some pool and ping-pong tables. The second floor has a kitchen and a little area with tables and chairs, which the employees pretty much use all day…for working, for chatting, for eating, for avoiding work, etc.
In such a big space, everything echoes. There’s always some kind of music blasting from someone’s computer. It’s a friendly, open, creative work space. I like it.
So, in addition to the more…lax…work ethic in this country, I work for an advertising firm, which means more free spirits and time and less stress and rigidity of the work day. On top of that, I am intern, which means no one actually trusts in my ability to be productive. Anyway, I’ve started demanding work, and finally have a project to work on for the next couple weeks. I did spend one productive day translating presentations and reviewing others’ translations–an excellent way to touch up on colloquial Spanish skills. “So, uh, here, did you mean to say…because, this doesn’t actually make any sense.” It’s interesting to catch errors and recognize the mistakes I myself once made, or still do. Seeing a learning process in action, from a removed vantage point, really brings everything all together.

A day in the life of Jotabequ…where I “work”

Volcan Poas, or the first volcano I’ve actually been able to see!

So, our friend Pepe took us to Volcan Poas a few weeks ago. Half the fun was the drive; there are visible changes in vegetation as you climb higher and higher. Apparently, Volcan Poas is the third largest active volcano in the world. It’s so large that you’re actually on the volcano before you know it. The parts leading up to the crater are called “La faldas de Poas”, or The Skirts of Poas.
It’s popular for high schools to take field trips here and families to come visit on the weekends.
When we got there, we waited around a bit for the giant group of high schoolers in front of us to get ahead so we actually felt the full effect of the surrounding nature…sans high-pitched squeals and awkward flirting attempts involving pokes and giggles.
There are two parts of the volcano: The Lagoon and the Crater
We arrived just in time to see the large lake in the crater. Literally five minutes after we got to the clearing and observation deck area, the clouds rolled in, and there was a thick heavy fog that completely shrouded the crater and obstructed any view of it whatsoever. (Photos below)
On the way back from the volcano, we stopped at a little Soda in town for “casados”, which are huge plates of food…basically, a mixture of everything the restaurant has that day: rice, beans, platanos maduros, some kind of meat y ensalada. And, of course it comes with a fresh fruit drink. Yumm.

Other news:
Yesterday was my tica sister’s Baby Shower. Interesting experience. Here, it’s called a “tea.” Not much differs from showers in the states, except there are several Ice Breaker games…my favorite! Of course, they played “pick on the gringa”, so I had to embarrassingly stand in front of a room full of ticos and smile awkwardly for about ten minutes. The game I had to play involved racing against another girl to try and grab as many people as I could and pin them to a clothesline before she could…I guess it was supposed to be a getting-to-know-you thing, but I was flustered, and all I could do was grab strangers and kind of grunt and point in the general direction of the line. Of course, I happened to choose two people who are the kind that never participate in group activities, and got waved off.
Photos in next post.

I am soooo hot and sweaty right now.
Also, there are giant cockroaches in this country. Disgusting. They only come out at night…but, that’s when I’m awake and no one else is. So, I have to deal with them all by my lonesome. Oh, did I mention they can fly here? What?  How can you event try to win against a creature like that?

Saprissa (one of the soccer teams here) won the championship last night, which means the streets were packed with honking cars and crazies running with flags flying. Note: roundabouts are worthless after a championship win. Imagine hundreds of cars confined to a restricted space with only three methods of entry and exit. Yeah, some “intersection.” Clusterfuck is more like it.

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Miss and love you all.

Thinking of coming home a week earlier than planned, so July 12. Who knows.

<3

Hollie

Montezuma, a Jellyfish, a Life-Sized Jesus and Bastante Playa

Greetings, friends!

We meet again.

First things first:

What I did over Semana Santa.

Montezuma

We had about a week off from classes. Kelsey, Kiska, Rachel and I headed to Montezuma, on the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica. Montezuma is known for its beaches, waterfalls and surrounding lush landscape (pretty much what every tourist destination is known for). Montezuma is also close to Cabo Blanco, a National Park with excellent hiking trails and wildlife. Of course, we did it all.

Monday: wake up around 4 a.m., catch the 5 a.m. bus out of Curridabat, down to San Jose. Walk through San Jose, arrive at the bus stop, catch a bus to Puntarenas around 6 a.m. For the lovely price of about $12, you get a 2 and a half hour bus ride to Puntarenas, a ferry ticket from Puntarenas to…the other side? and a ride from there, to Montezuma. All in all, the trip took a good 6 hours.

We roll into Montezuma at a hot and sweaty 12:30 p.m. We nab the first hostel we find; it’s situated right on the beach and costs about $9/night/person for a dorm room. We’re exhausted and happy to find a bed during one of the busier travel weeks in the country. So, maybe there was sometimes running water, and sometimes not, and there may have been a baby that banged on people’s doors at 5 a.m. and threw rocks at the faces of people sitting on the beach minding their own business because its mother did not believe in discipline, but hey, pura vida. Also, who needs running water when you can wake up, walk out the door to the beach and bathe in the sea?

The first afternoon, we relaxed on the beach and had a low-key evening.

Tuesday: wake up, chill on the beach, head for the waterfall! We walked a small ways down the main road to a small path that turned off and headed for the waterfall. After a short scramble over some rocks, we arrive at the bottom of the waterfall. There are many people laying about, enjoying the warm summer sun, swimming in the pool and taking pictures. We’re with Rachel, who’s been here before. She takes us up and around the back of the waterfall. It’s a “hike” that requires us to hold on to roots and rocks while we scale the sides of cliffs for a good 30 minutes. A direct upwards climb. It was totally worth it, though, because when we finally got to the top, there were two more pools in which you could swim, plus, a sheer drop-off into another pool, from which you could cliff jump. It was probably a 50-ft plunge into the pool below, which backed up over to an edge that cascaded down in the waterfall we had just seen from below 30 minutes ago. Absolutely beautiful.

Tuesday night, we set up camp on the beach for a few hours with some boxed wine and a whole lot of sore but happy muscles. We chatted with a local about his preferred method of fishing, and passed a couple hours under a full moon, with reggae music drifting our way from the one and only bar in town.

Wednesday: Rachel leaves, Kelsey, Kiska and I head (rather hungover) for Cabo Blanco, the national park about a 30 min bus ride away. We get there with the intent of hiking the day away. There’s a hike that will take us through the whole park. It’s about 4.5 km in one direction, and ends in a beach, where we would lunch and then head back.

Hardest.hike.of.my.life. The trail map said the hike should take about two hours one way. We did it in one hour, but were literally drenched in sweat the entire time. The whole trail consisted of a series of steps, essentially. In efforts to preserve the park, the trail followed a winding, indirect path that lead us up and over the highest part of the park and back down to the beach. So, the way back also had a significant amount of steps.

When we finally got to the beach, we had ourselves a feast of PB&J, avocados, tortillas, tuna, beans and some fresh papaya and pineapple. The beach was infested with hermit crabs, which we found out when we threw an avocado pit to the side and they swarmed it.

The beach was beautiful, the dip in the water refreshing and the jellyfish sting I received was…entertaining.

“Ow! Something bit me!”

Kelsey and I run to exit the water

“Maybe it was a Sting Ray!”

“I think that’s a jellyfish sting!”

“What do I do? Does someone have to pee on me?”

“No! Rub sand on it!”

“No, maybe someone should pee on it”

“No, it’s ok”

So, I rubbed some sand on it, which I think just resulted in wedging bacteria into the sting, but in the end I was fine. I still have a faint mark, but it’s healing well.

Back at the hostel that night, we encountered Johan, our surprise new roommate. See, before Rachel left, there were four of us, so we shared one dorm room. When she left, we didn’t realize they rented the beds individually, so we get back to find a random boy making himself at home in our room.

“Hello. I’m Johan. I’m from Iceland”

This is why I love hostels. The people you meet will leave you with impressions you’ll never forget. We spent the night resting, I talked to Johan for a bit about the different world of Iceland, then we all slept. We got up at 6 a.m. to catch the bus back to San Jose.

Procesiones

So, Semana Santa means “Holy Week,” but should really mean “A Week Filled with Processions Containing Life-size Jesus and Mary Figures that Crowd the Streets and Shut Down the Country.” But, that’s just my opinion. For those of you who know of my strange fascination with Catholic art, you can imagine how much personal restraint it took to keep from running up to cross-toting life-size Jesus, freeing him from his pedestal and running straight to the airport to catch the next flight home.

Puntarenas: the Armpit of Costa Rica

Last weekend, we decided to take a day trip to Puntarenas, the most popular beach spot for the city-slickers of San Jose. Just a short $4, two hour bus ride away, Puntarenas is the perfect spot for a family looking to getting away for the day, weekend, etc. Definitely not the prettiest spot in all of the country, but it was interesting to watch tico families at play, lay out in the sun and just relax for a few hours. Aside from the creepy man who watched us for about an hour, I had a super fun time.  A lovely couple close to us warned us about the creepy man watching us, telling us not to leave anything unattended, as he might steal it. Yes, we know. Don’t be that gringa…the one who runs into the water with total abandon, leaving all possessions unattended on the beach and returns to well, nothing.
The best part of this day was the absolutely delicious sea bass fillet I had for lunch. Oh, seafood. You revive me.

I’d like to write more, I really would, but I’m just not feeling it tonight. So, I will leave you with a phat photo album. Enjoy, vicarious vacationers!

Various other happenings:

Tico thrifting. Super 80s, super fun.
Trip to Jaco (update soon!)
Possible trip to Monteverde next weekend
New job! I landed an internship with Jotabequ, an ad agency here.  I’ve only been with the company for a week, but I’ll update soon when I have more to tell. Great group of people; very innovative, fun-loving and relaxed work environment.
University of Costa Rica strike: http://www.nacion.com/Generales/MediaCenter/Home.aspx?tipo=1

Con mucho amor

Hollie

<!–[if !mso]> <!– st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } –>

Hello, all-

We meet again.

First things first:

What I did over Semana Santa:

We had about a week off from classes. Kelsey, Kiska, Rachel and I headed to Montezuma, on the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica. Montezuma is known for its beaches, waterfalls and surrounding lush landscape (pretty much what every tourist destination is known for). Montezuma is also close to Cabo Blanco, a National Park with excellent hiking trails and wildlife. Of course, we did it all.

Monday: wake up around 4 a.m., catch the 5 a.m. bus out of Curridabat, down to San Jose. Walk through San Jose, arrive at the bus stop, catch a bus to Puntarenas around 6 a.m. For the lovely price of about $12, you get a 2 and a half hour bus ride to Puntarenas, a ferry ticket from Puntarenas to…the other side? and a ride from there, to Montezuma. All in all, the trip took a good 6 hours.

We roll into Montezuma at a hot and sweaty 12:30 p.m. We nab the first hostel we find; it’s situated right on the beach and costs about $9/night/person for a dorm room. We’re exhausted and happy to find a bed during one of the busier travel weeks in the country. So, maybe there was sometimes running water, and sometimes not, and there may have been a baby that banged on people’s doors at 5 a.m. and threw rocks at the faces of people sitting on the beach minding their own business because its mother did not believe in discipline, but hey, pura vida. Also, who needs running water when you can wake up, walk out the door to the beach and bathe in the sea?

The first afternoon, we relaxed on the beach and had a low-key evening.

Tuesday: wake up, chill on the beach, head for the waterfall! We walked a small ways down the main road to a small path that turned off and headed for the waterfall. After a short scramble over some rocks, we arrive at the bottom of the waterfall. There are many people laying about, enjoying the warm summer sun, swimming in the pool and taking pictures. We’re with Rachel, who’s been here before. She takes us up and around the back of the waterfall. It’s a “hike” that requires us to hold on to roots and rocks while we scale the sides of cliffs for a good 30 minutes. A direct upwards climb. It was totally worth it, though, because when we finally got to the top, there were two more pools in which you could swim, plus, a sheer drop-off into another pool, from which you could cliff jump. It was probably a 50-ft plunge into the pool below, which backed up over to an edge that cascaded down in the waterfall we had just seen from below 30 minutes ago. Absolutely beautiful.

Tuesday night, we set up camp on the beach for a few hours with some boxed wine and a whole lot of sore but happy muscles. We chatted with a local about his preferred method of fishing, and passed a couple hours under a full moon, with reggae music drifting our way from the one and only bar in town.

Wednesday: Rachel leaves, Kelsey, Kiska and I head (rather hungover) for Cabo Blanco, the national park about a 30 min bus ride away. We get there with the intent of hiking the day away. There’s a hike that will take us through the whole park. It’s about 4.5 km in one direction, and ends in a beach, where would lunch and then head back.

Hardest.hike.of.my.life. The trail map said the hike should take about two hours one way. We did it in one hour, but were literally drenched in sweat the entire time. The entire trail consisted in a series of steps, essentially. In efforts to preserve the park, the trail followed a winding, indirect path that lead us up and over the highest part of the park and back down to the beach. So, the way back also had a significant amount of steps.

When we finally got to the beach, we had ourselves a feast of PB&J, avocados, tortillas, tuna, beans and some fresh papaya and pineapple. The beach was infested with hermit crabs, which we found out when we threw an avocado pit to the side and they swarmed it.

The beach was beautiful, the dip in the water refreshing and the jellyfish sting I received was…entertaining.

“Ow! Something bit me!”

Kelsey and I run to exit the water

“Maybe it was a Sting Ray!”

“I think that’s a jellyfish sting!”

“What do I do? Does someone have to pee on me?”

“No! Rub sand on it!”

“No, maybe someone should pee on it”

“No, it’s ok”

So, I rubbed some sand on it, which I think just resulted in wedging bacteria into the sting, but in the end I was fine. I still have a faint mark, but it’s healing well.

Back at the hostel that night, we encountered Johan, our surprise new roommate. See, before Rachel left, there were four of us, so we shared one dorm room. When she left, we didn’t realize they rented the beds individually, so we get back to find a random boy making himself at home in our room.

“Hello. I’m Johan. I’m from Iceland”

This is why I love hostels. The people you meet will leave you with impressions you’ll never forget. We spent the night resting, I talked to Johan for a bit about the different world of Iceland, then we all slept. We got up at 6 a.m. to catch the bus back to San Jose.

Procesiones

The Costa Rican College Experience…Plus a Little Futbol Fun

¿Que pasa?

Yes, yes, I know.

It’s been a while, but here I am, so quit your complaining and read on.

I am a student at the University of Costa Rica in San Pedro. It’s Costa Rica’s biggest public university, with close to 40,000 students. Let me recount my first week of real classes:

1. Gramática española para lenguas modernas
You guessed it! This is a Spanish Grammar Class for Modern Languages. Basically, what this means is, we’re learning morphology and other grammatical things…like sentence structure and how to properly conjugate verbs. I am a pro. I mean, I’ve been conjugating verbs since I first started learning Spanish, so like, what? Sixth grade?
Anywho, we get to class, and the professor starts talking at us. I’m at the point in my Spanish studies where I understand about 95% of everything that is said to me. Well, ok. This number is subject to change depending on the speed of the speaker, his/her accent and the volume of the voice.
This professor is nice. She even has an e-mail address she gives us by which we can reach her with questions, comments, etc! Yes, I know this sounds rather mundane to all you Amurrican folks, but she is literally the only professor I have with an e-mail address.  It’s even Gmail. Que technologically savvy, no?
She is in her late 40′s, or early 50′s, if I had to guess. She seems to know her stuff, too. The first day, she spent a good ten minutes talking about how English-speaking students might have an advantage in the course, since we have exposure to the roots and grammatical structures of both languages. It’s like double the fun in one timid foreign exchange student package! (Yes, I did just use the word “timid” in reference to myself). To prove our grand advantage, she wrote on the board:
Me gusta la pizza.
Then, she asked Molly to directly translate it:
“Pizza is pleasing to me.”
Bahaha! I mean, this is the correct translation, but when you say the phrase in Spanish, it means “I like pizza.” The point of the demonstration was to show the place and function of the subject of a sentence, and how that varies between the two languages. Regardless, I finished out the class with a slight smile on my lips, repeatedly recalling “Pizza is pleasing to me…hells yeah it is!”
OK, one thing I need to clarify: each of my classes is TWO AND A HALF HOURS long. That’s a pretty significant change from the usual 50 min at KU, no? Imagine someone talking at you in a different language for two and a half hours. You leave the class absolutely exhausted from the mental translation process, and it’s then that you realize…oh, I should probably try to participate next time.

2. Literatura Latinoamericana III
Speaking of participation, this class, Latin American Literature III (duh), has a 30 % participation grade. Never before have I been so absolutely terrified of opening my mouth…enough and at the right times. Being in Costa Rica has redefined the expression “think before you speak,” which honestly, probably isn’t too bad for me (Dad, I can see you now, nodding to yourself and saying, “finally!”).
The professor of this class is a total space cadet. On day one, she spoke with an Argentinian accent…which, basically translates to not really articulating any of her letters, but she was wearing a floor-length plaid skirt. Argentinian-Scottish blend. I can dig it.
So, I struggle for most of the class to even understand what she’s saying. Here’s what it sounded like to me (translated to English):
“…modernism…vanguardism…post-modernism is not after modernism…readings…hahaha…anthologies…modernism…Ruben Dario…Latin American identity…modernism”
Surprise! Our first reading was about el modernismo, which does not mean the same thing as the literary/artistic/social movement of Modernism in the States, or in Europe. THE FIRST READING ASSIGNMENT WAS 60 PAGES LONG…and all in Spanish. Mmmm there’s nothing like curling up with 60 pages of a thick literary soup of technical terms and ideologies…in Spanish. And, here’s what I learned: We cannot really identify el modernismo. It’s just so…inexplicably grand.
The next class period, she literally read to us from the reading. Everything she touched upon, I had already underlined. Suddenly, I am not-so-terrified.

3. Introducción a la filologia
Intro to Philology? What the hell is Philology?
Well, boys and girls, sit right down here and I’ll tell you a story…
Philology, as defined by the super-reliable Wikipedia is a field of study that “considers both form and meaning in linguistic expression, combining linguistics and literary studies.” That means, I get to learn how literature and books came to be, without actually studying any of the books themselves. It’s abstract, yet concrete on a whole new level! Essentially, the majority of the class deals with the evolution of text, from the great Alexandrian Library to present day’s obsession with digitalizing everything (thanks, Google Books!). The first class was a disappointment…my wasp-of-a-teacher read directly to us from a PowerPoint presentation, and then assigned reading that contained the exact same material. I feel over-informed.
The last two classes have consisted of her lecturing…without any sense of organization…for about 40 min, then letting the class form groups to work on answering questions about the assigned reading.
Note: Ticos do not do the readings. I thought bullshit was hot in the States. No way, it’s super fresh here.

4. Morfologia
More morphology! Yes, this class so far has been an exact copy of my Gramatica class. I assume we’ll go more in-depth as time passes, but right now, we even have the same readings assigned. Oh, well.
This professor is my favorite (Nasi! She is a tica version of you! Cute, petite, thin and trendy. Even smiles like you. It feels like home…). On the first day, she emphasized the importance of maintaining an open learning environment where everyone feels comfortable enough to share their comments and ask questions. Boy, did I perk up when I heard that. Yes! A comfortable environment! This is exactly what I want as a foreign student! She spoke to my soul.

“Textbooks” in Costa Rica:
Here’s how it works: you go to class. You listen to the professor speak. Then, he/she will give you a reading assignment. After you’ve written down the title of the reading, she gives you (in rapid Spanish) the direction to a “copia” where you can buy the reading. What’s a “copia,” you ask? It’s a copy shop. I know you’re imagining FedEx Kinko’s in your mind, but no. Stop. Copy shops in Costa Rica are a whole different world. Think Stock Market meets Copy Room in any cubicle-laden office in the U.S.
Ok, so the professor gives you “directions,” you set out on your adventure. I call it an “adventure” because here is an example of how addresses and directions work in Costa Rica (translated into English):

200 meters north of the big pizza restaurant, across the street from the big orange building, on the left of the park.

I.wish.I.were.kidding. Addresses here consist of a series of meters and landmarks. 100 meters is equivalent to one block, and here’s the best part: sometimes they give directions using landmarks that are no longer in existence. The old church? Yeah, sure, I know exactly what you’re talking about…the one that burnt down 20 years ago? Cool, thanks! Some UCR students put together a short animated film depicting a gringo asking directions in Costa Rica, and the thought process he must be going through as he hears each landmark:

Anyway, you finally make it to the copia after 25 wrong turns and a slew of direction-asking of random passerby. When you get there, you are in a very small replication of the Stock Market with everyone raising their arms and yelling at once: “Folder 88! Necesito…1..2..3..4 copias de la lectura de la morfologia en hoy dia!”
“Folder 56! En rojo! Quiero el color rojo. No, solamente la primera lectura!”
“Donde esta la lista de las clases? Quein tiene la lista??”
See, each class has a folder number. Inside the corresponding folder, are a series of photocopied pages. The pages with a highlighter mark on them are the original copy. Well, when I say “original,” I mean “has only been photocopied ten times as opposed to 50.” Usually, a group of students will go directly after class to collect the readings. Whoever gets to the counter first, finds the selected readings, then yells back to see how many copies are needed. Then, the necessary pages get handed to the assistant, and we’re off to corporate America’s copy room!
Each copia has an average of five giant copy machines. These things are monsters, and have got to be from the early 90s. Together, they produce a roar, over which you can hear all the Stock Market-yelling of other students from different classes. Oh, and I forgot to mention that there does not exist a concept of personal space here in Costa Rica. So, while you are enveloped in the intense noise-cocoon of what seems like 100 space ships taking off at once, you are packed in tightly against 20 other students, each one yelling and fighting for his/her own precious copy. (Side note: no wonder Costa Ricans are all so obsessed with brushing their teeth. They have to have fresh breath, if they stand with only inches separating them day in and day out. Yes, students here will leave class with toothbrush and toothpaste in-hand to go freshen up in the middle of the day…X 5. It’s rather humorous to me. Apparently, gum won’t do the trick. Nuh-uh. No way).
Once the copies are finished, students start passing up change to pay for them. Depending on the size of the reading, it can cost anywhere from 25 cents to $20. There has got to be some major breaching of copyright laws going on, but hey! At least the students have their homework!

“Vamos….Vamos Saprissa….Esta noche….Tenemos que ganarrrrr”
Or, my first Latin American Soccer Game!:

So, Costa Rica has many soccer teams. The teams correspond to regions, or provinces. My host father, Danilo has always supported the San Jose team, or Saprissa (official Web Site: http://www.saprissa.co.cr/content/). So, I heard that Saprissa was due to play La Liga, the Alajuela team. It was supposed to be the game of the century! The teams were evenly matched, and the fans had a reputation for going insane during games.
It just so happened that my host dad had a birthday in early March. So, I bought him two tickets to This Big Game. My host mom told me that he hadn’t been to the stadium in over thirty years! He was so preciously excited. I knew he always watched the games on T.V. , so of course he’d probably want to attend one…especially the biggest one yet. Plus, I wanted to spend more time with him, as he worked (retired last Friday at the age of 78!) during the days, and I had class.
And, so, we went to the Saprissa game. I was a little nervous, because I had heard things like, “watch out. the fans throw bags of pee on the field when they’re angry,” or “make sure you leave early because fights will break out.” None of this happened, but I was also sure to get the good seats where the raunchy people don’t sit.
The game happened to fall on St. Patrick’s Day. So weird…no one celebrates that here even though it’s technically a Catholic holiday. I took a bus after my class got out at 4 p.m. and met Danilo in downtown San Jose. My mom had packed us sandwiches and refrescos (any cold drink that is not water or tea). Danilo is a fast little man. Like I said, he is 78-years-old, yet literally walks faster than anyone I have ever met. I had to speed walk to keep up with him as we weaved in and out of pedestrians on our way to the stadium. At one point he looked at me and said, “I have the custom of walking very quickly. Please tell me if I need to slow down.” Of course I wasn’t going to say anything! I am supposed to be the young, sprightly teenager here. No way is some grandpa gonna beat me! Still, I arrived panting at the bus stop where we waited for the bus to take us to the stadium. The closer we got to the stop, the more purple and white jerseys we saw (Saprissa colors).
We got there super early so we could be guaranteed seats. What followed was a series of chaotic pre-game displays.
1. Soccer game played by “youths” as Danilo said. Probably high schoolers, if I had to guess.
2. Random guy juggling a ball and doing some sweet tricks…except, he did drop it a few times.
3. A very poorly coordinated cheerleader squad. Almost entertaining.
4. The Saprissa girls. All I could gather from this performance was that the purpose involved hot girls shaking their asses. It was a literally a line of about ten 20-something-year-olds with ample bosoms and even ampler lower-halfs in spandex seductively moving their hips and blowing kisses to the camera. There was no choreographed dance. After ten minutes, they exited the field.
5. Finally, team warm-ups.
Here are some photos from the beginning of the game (thank you Grupo de Kansas…my camera is broken, so these pictures are all courtesy of friends):

the crowd goes absolutely wild. smoke bombs, toilet paper all over the field, shredded phonebooks, flags, a giant drum beating somewhere, roman candles in the stands, deafening yelling and cheering

Apparently, things like smoke bombs and roman candles in public are not illegal in Costa Rica. But, then again, not much really is. Throughout all of this excitement, Danilo was sitting next to me with a huge smile on his face clapping along to the chants being sung by the entire stadium. He looked blissful. Wish I had a functioning camera to capture it.  More pics:

note all the toilet paper on the field. the crowd threw roll after roll, most of them fell across La Liga's goal. the poor players just ran through it all

Orange smoke bombs set off after first goal. Some funny guy behind me yelled, "Putas! (Bitches!) They're burning carrots! They're going to burn the stadium down!"

fireworks! i believe this was after Saprissa’s first and only goal. Final score was 1-0 Saprissa

We were sitting in the top left section. Good view of the field.

I believe this was the "Halftime Show," which also didn't really make any sense. From what I could tell, a ton of little kids wearing Saprissa jerseys swarmed the field all holding balloons. Then, the team mascot...a giant purple dinosaur (due to the 1980-something win when the country newspaper dubbed the team "The Purple Monster") entered the field and the kids released their balloons. There was also a strange parade of heavily costumed dancers promoting the "Bimbo" brand, the most popular bread brand in Latin America.

Well, I don’t have much else to say other than I went to a sweet dance party in downtown San Jose last weekend. First we went to a contemporary art museum where we walked through a series of strange pieces that were part of a Flamenco and the Female exhibit. I believe the point of the exhibit was to demonstrate woman’s state of virtual captivity throughout different levels of Latin American society. Whatever. After, we went to El Steinvorth, which is a refurbished warehouse gallery/cafe/club. The music was banging, and I got a heavy dose of the Costa Rican hipster scene. (Katie, they’re everywhere! Gonna take over the world!)

This upcoming week is Semana Santa, or the equivalent of Spring Break. I have plans to travel to Montezuma and Mal Pais, both beach-laden coastal zones of Costa Rica. The only thing on the agenda is hiking, beaches, hiking to beaches and maybe some waterfall climbing. We’ll see. I’ll post in a couple weeks with updates from that trip!

Loves yous,

Hollie

Los mapaches, old german tourists and another invisble volcano

Hi All-

First off, my apologies for the time lapse between my last post and this one. I’ve stayed quite busy with a several page group research paper, a group project about Costa Rican culture and of course, traveling this gorgeously green country.

So, since I last wrote, these things have happened (in no particular order):

1. Weekend trip to Punta Leona
2. Weekend trip to Volcan Arenal
3. Tico dance lessons (fail)
4. Turning in a 20 page research paper on the effects of immigrants on the main sectors of the Costa Rican economy…in Spanish
5. The slow realization that what I do not know far exceeds that which I do
6. Un poquito de homesickness

1. Weekend trip to Punta Leona

So, the program I’m involved in includes a weekend trip to Punta Leona, on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. Basically, we spent almost 48 hours in an all-inclusive (minus drinks, of course) resort/spa in Punta Leona. The beaches here are gorgeous; they’re much calmer than the beaches on the Caribbean coast in terms of waves and wind.
Aside from clearly being the youngest guests there, our group had a lot of fun. We arrived around 5 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 25 after an uneventful bus ride through the countryside. Our rooms, each of which had two double beds, a bathroom, TV and AC, were divided up by Central American countries. So, I stayed in Nicaragua, but I actually think it was Venezuela. Que authentic, no? We made it to the closest beach before it got dark and all just hung out and swam a bit. That night, we drifted from room to room, chatting, laughing, indulging and learning how to dance from the Tico assistants that accompanied us on the trip as part of the program (I watched and did not participate).
Friday was really the eventful day. Kelsey, Kiska and I walked to Playa Blanca, the “nicer” beach about a 30 min walk away. We took the short cut, which means we had to make sure the tide was still out while we clambered over rocks and gingerly toed our way around little pools of sea water until we reached a bank with stairs carved into the mud. We stopped at one point, rested the camera on a rock, set the self-timer and posed:

After heaving ourselves up the bank (the stairs were poorly carved), we were greeted by this site:

Looks like a little slice of heaven, no? We spent the remainder of the day lounging around on this beach , floating in the ocean and pretending not to count the number of old men who walked by wearing speedos. Friday night most of the group went down to the resort bar and partook in Spanish karaoke and a game called “try to annoy the old german tourists.” To be honest, I did not participate in these games, but rather stayed in the room to do some serious thinking about life. For some reason, being around all this nature just makes me want to sit and think sometimes.  And so,  I did.
Saturday morning 4 a.m.:
We are awoken by loud scratching and squeaking noises coming from directly above our heads. We wake up and mumble something at each other across the room: “mmmdiddyahear that? mmm” It sounded like there was a small family of monkeys in the midst of a scrabble on the roof of our room. We were too scared to go out and yell at them, so we determinedly fell back asleep and hoped it would die down eventually.
Saturday morning 6 a.m.:
“Shit, dude! Raccoons just fell onto my bed!”
“What? What’s going on? Are you serious?! Oh my god! Ahhhh!”
I jump up and run to open the door. One raccoon, “mapache” in Spanish, runs out of the room and quickly climbs a tree. The other hides under the bed and peers out at us, obviously more terrified than we are:

Here’s the hole they made when they feel through the ceiling:

Kiska’s all like, “What? a jungle raccoon just fell from the ceiling and landed on my bed?? Pura vida, mae.”
So, we call the front desk. Kelsey: “Hola, hay dos animales en nuestro cuarto…” They probably thought we were crazy drunk Americans not making any sense…which is why it took them AN HOUR to finally send someone over to check on the damage.
All in all, the trip was fun. The only other eventful tale involved monkeys that hung around the restaurant. When no one was looking, they’d climb down onto the tables and steal entire glass bowls of sugar packets and then run off into the jungle. Hilarious.

2. Volcan Arenal, La Fortuna

Here’s a tale of yet another invisible volcano!
The entire group traveled down to la Fortuna, a town at the base of Volcan Arenal in the Northern part of Costa Rica. The first day of the trip was included in the program fee, but most of us opted to stay over on Friday, March 5 and Saturday night and take the public bus back to San Jose.
So, having just completed an arduous month of orientation classes, we were all ready to enjoy a relaxing day. First, we stopped for breakfast in a quaint little town nestled between rolling hills, with cows who grazed among them, perched at precarious angles on nearly vertical slopes:

Beautiful countryside:

After breakfast, a very satisfied group of students boarded the bus, where most promptly fell asleep. About an hour and a half later, we found ourselves at another hot springs, this time at a large, lavish resort. Welcome to the Springs Resort and Spa:

Basically, this resort has a series of pools at different levels along a hillside shrouded in dense jungle foliage. Each pool is at a different temperature. While we were there it happened to be raining, so we all headed for the warmest pools, which were about 103 degrees F. The water comes directly from hot springs fueled by Volcan Arenal. Little specks of minerals float in the pools in dense clouds, each with its own health benefits. This resort was like a fairytale. The pools were nearly deserted due to the weather, so we essentially had full reign of the entire place. Mas fotos:

Supposedly, the resort has an incredible view of Volcan Arenal, but unfortunately it was completely invisible due to the heavy fog and rain. It’s okay, I have an excellent imagination.

We left the resort after a couple hours and a delicious lunch, but promised to return the following day. Apparently, we all had two-day passes, so some opted to come back on Saturday and relax some more. We came back for the showers and free towels. Oh, budget traveling. You are so thrifty.
The bus dropped us off in la Fortuna on the way back. Four of us stumbled around the town comparing hostel prices and bargaining with the owners. Finally, we found our fit: one room with two double beds, a mini fridge, AC, private bath with hot water and free internet for $30/night. The hostel had a community kitchen, too, which meant we had somewhere to prepare all of the food we brought with us. (Side note: best cheap but delicious travel food: tortillas, avocados, canned tuna, re-fried black beans, limes and lizano sauce).  We spent the night exploring the town a bit and chatting with our neighbors…two older German men who blasted Rammstein and taught us how to perfect our German accents.

Saturday: hiking time!
So, we had this elaborate plan to hike up to the base of the volcano and swim in this completely natural hot spings in a crater somewhere up there. There was also a waterfall you could hike to as well. We packed a delicious lunch, hiked all the way up, found out it cost $6 to enter the park, pretended we didn’t have money on us, ate our lunch and hiked back down. Action shots:

(oh, boxed wine, how you make me feel so classy)

view about midway through the trek up:

Anyway, it was a fun time. My first hiking experience, really. It tired me out, too. I’ve never walked that far up hill before in my life. It was probably a good two hour trek. Does a body good, no?
We hiked down, caught the shuttle to the resort, swam, showered and headed back to la Fortuna for another night of working on our German accents. Hostel pics:

We left Sunday on the public bus that was so crowded that at least ten people had to stand in the aisles. And it was a four hour ride. I was definitely happy to arrive in good ‘ol Curridabat after all the excitement of the weekend.

I feel like numbers 3-6 are more or less self-explanatory. Ok, honestly, I’m just tired of writing. I’ll post again soon with details about my classes (this was the first week!) and other little tidbits of tico life.

Thank you, faithful readers!

Nos vemos,

Hollie

Los viajes, las aventuras y el café (Travels, Adventures and Coffee)

Boy, have I been busy.

Puerto Viejo was relaxing, intriguing and a bit rainy. Rockin J’s Hostel was fabulous–a true hippie haven, complete with guest-inspired mosaics and art projects, a beachfront location and free-flowing fun from sunup to sundown.

All in all, I enjoyed myself and had a pleasant first-time hostel experience. It was nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of San Jose, where traffic is slower than molasses and los piropos (directly translates to “flattery,” but is really more like “cat calls”) follow me down the street everywhere I go. Speaking of piropos, I’m slowly learning that it is almost a disadvantage to be white in this country. Strange, no? Well, obviously we gringos stick out like a colony of sore thumbs, but quite honestly, all the girls in my group dress more modestly than the ticas, and don’t even attempt to flirt with the passerby. Essentially, being a white female is the equivalent to wearing a sign on your forehead that says, “Yes, I’m a dumb foreigner who does not speak your language. Please, take advantage of me.” Never to fear, I DO speak the language, and we’ve talked about how to handle los piropos in our culture class: basically, ignore them. Never make eye contact with a male in a bar, or even a public space, because apparently that signals immediate sexual attraction, and latin men are completely incapable of reigning in the hormones. Whatever, hot blood is old news.  I’m Iranian, haha.

Ok, so the group took a lovely little day trip to Cartago yesterday, which is about an hour drive outside of town.  We visited Irazu, a very active volcano. On the way there, we drove on a winding road that snaked through onion and potato fields (sidenote: we actually stopped at one point so a passenger could get over her motion sickness, and some local farmers gave us three fresh onions, uprooted right in front of our eyes. Needless to say, the entire bus smelled like onions for the rest of the trip, but hey, at least the seats reclined, right?), with sporadic glimpses of forested patches fit for a fine and fancy fairytale.

The Mystery of the Missing Volcano (Nancy Drew # 20):

When we got to Irazu, it was cold and misty, and well, umm, we actually could not even see the volcano, or craters or anything. What we did see was a thick mist that keep enticing us to venture further and further away from the wooden balustrade that ran the length of the craters. Reenacting Spielberg’s “The Mist”, we disappeared time and time again into…nothingness.  Que dramático, no? (How dramatic…duh).

After the mystery volcano, we made our way down to the actual town of Cartago, where we visited La Basilica de la Virgen de Los Angeles, which is this beautiful old Spanish church with a lovely little legend to match its high-arching ceilings, gilded statuary and intricate stained glass. Of course, we visited the museum that’s under the church, where there are collections of little pendants that visiting worshipers left as requests for cures, guidance, etc. The pendants include everything from legs, to torsos to breasts to beds with children in them, to pets. The nature of the pendant matches the nature of the request, i.e. you have a broken leg, so you leave a leg pendant in hopes of a cure. Oh, boy. Catholicism fascinates me.

After the Church, we went to this absolutely charming little Bed and Breakfast/Private Coffee Plantation/Hot Springs up in the mountains of El Valle Central (the Central Valley…duh, again). You know, I could talk about the magnificence of the place, but honestly, I think pictures do it more justice (Mom and Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Brandt and the Zarinkias:  I’m positive you would all LOVE it here)

PICTURE TIME!!!

Well, I’m off to “freshen up” as Mom Farrahi would say. It’s Friday night in Curridabat, which means…well, I’m not quite sure, but I’m getting together with some of the other Curri ladies.  Tomorrow morning I’m visiting two different farmers’ markets for a project in our culture class…I have to approach random people and ask them questions…without appearing too white and confused, haha. Love me a challenge.

Toodaloo for now.

Love for all!

Hollie

Cosas extrañas de mi vida diaria (Strange things in my daily life)

I want to share with you all some oddities I’ve stumbled upon in my daily travels. Bear with me; this post probably won’t do much in the way of organization…

As a foreigner in a strange land, I tend to notice things that I’m sure melt into the backdrop of the natives’ lives.

Everyday, I take the bus to campus. On a good day, it’s about a 15 min ride. On a bad day (which is just about every other day), it’s a 45 min ride.  Something very hard to grasp here in Costa Rica is the concept of time, punctuality (or lack thereof) and a relaxed sense of responsibility. Anyway, along my bus route is this little old man. He stands on the corner of an intersection along la calle principal (the main road) between Curridabat (my neighborhood) and San Pedro, where the University is. As he stands right next to the McDonald’s (darn you, America), he constantly dips a wand into a tupperware container filled with soapy water. Then, he waves the wand, creating giant rotund bubbles that float into the constantly bottlenecked traffic flow in the street. At his feet are several plastic buckets filled with colorful pinwheels. They spin incessantly in the strong, warm breeze, bouncing their loud colors off the winds of passing cars.

My question: the San Jose area of Costa Rica is not a tourist destination. Who buys his wares, and if so, are they regular customers? Clearly, this is his main line of work, as he is on the corner day after sun-filled day. I am intrigued. He is the Bubble Man. Something tells me I will be the proud owner of a shiny new pinwheel sometime in the near future…

I mentioned the traffic conditions here. Absolutamente horrible! People use their horns, nonstop, and cars dart in front of each without the slightest look back to see if their rear-end actually made it into the lane with the rest of their vehicle. The bus drivers are the most aggressive, often tailing cars within a couple of close feet. Here’s what really gets me: the motorcyclists. If you want to effectively and efficiently get around Costa Rica, then buy a motorcycle. Why? Because you don’t have to follow traffic laws (not that there really are many…)! The cyclists zip in and out of cars and trucks, weaving through the lanes, and usually driving right down the dividing line. At first, I was convinced I’d see a crash happen, but I’ve yet to experience once. It’s absolutely incredible, if you ask me.

Something interesting regarding the teenage/young adult culture here:

The styles are recognizable, with the concentration of hipsters increasing as you approach the university campus. However, there are some stylistic components that stick out, and quite frankly, strike me as hilarious. For exmaple, the punk culture here is huge. But, it’s off by a couple years, if not a decade and a half. Iron Maiden t-shirts, haircuts from the 90s, and a strange fascination with hair gel and mohawks. All the girls wear their clothing incredibly tight, with copious amounts of fat rolls protruding in all sorts of directions. Oh, and the amount of women wearing heels. It’s insane! I’ve never seen more stiletto-clad women walking down the main sidewalks. Ridiculous, especially considering the condition of the sidewalks here: awful. You’re lucky if you have a couple feet of a smooth patch of pavement on which to walk. Basically, tread lightly and carefully…and, watch out for the cover-less 3ft deep drains and gutters.

Regarding food:

My mom packs me a sandwich almost every day to bring for lunch. Yesterday, I got a butter, mozarella, tomato, fresh basil and…honey sandwich on flaky baguette bread. She explained to me that she likes to put honey on all the sandwiches she makes. Strange, but oddly tasty. It’s like including dessert in the main course.

Things are amazingly inexpensive here. Yesterday, I bought a fresh juice drink for the equivalent of 45 cents. When I say fresh, I mean freshly squeezed tropical fruit juice. Que satisfactorio (how satisfying).

You can get an entire tico meal for less than $4. This weekend, I will travel to Puerto Viejo on the Coast. A roundtrip ticket cost me $15, and it’s a 4.5 hr bus ride! Amazing.

In Puerto Viejo, I will stay in a hostel called Rockin J’s (http://www.rockingjs.com/). It costs about $5.50/night to rent a hammock. I plan to chill on the beach for most of the time. Should be a fun time. I think the group is going to buy food and try to cook most of their meals. What an adventure!

I picked my classes for the semester. They are:

Intro to Morphology
Intro to Philology
Spanish Grammar for Modern Languages
Latin american Literature III

I somehow managed to pull off my hope for no class on Mondays and Fridays, so now I’ll have plenty of time to travel…and do the copious amounts of reading I’m sure I’ll have. The good thing is, all the class topics coincide nicely, so I should have a rather comprehensive learning experience here.

I met with the advertising professor here (thanks, Linda!). She is going to find me an internship in some marketing firm. I’ll either be dealing with copy writing, account services or PR. I’m definitely excited to get some real experience, and truly use both of my majors–Strategic Communications and Spanish.

OK, well, this post has been entirely too long. I’ll leave you with some pictures of the food and campus I’ve been enjoying as of late.

Biological reserve on campus

Thanks for the readership. Miss you all.

Pura vida,

Hollie

Fotos de mi vida

Hola!

So, I promised pictures. What follows are some snippets of my life thus far; mostly pictures of my house and host family.

Mi Casita Tica Perfecta

Hola a todos!

So, just wanted to post something quickly, as I know a few of you are dying for updates.

Key: tico/a = costa rican

**the title of this post means, “My Perfect Little Costa Rican House”

My house is lovely! It’s quaint, airy, incredibly tidy and oh-so-tica.

Mi mama tica is simply adorable. She is a precious little lady who bustles around the house, is always cooking something and has made me feel very welcome. She has a husband and a daughter, Adriana who is 24 and lives with us here. She is pregnant, and I’ll get to experience a Costa Rican baby shower soon! My mom used to be a nurse, but she is retired now. Regardless, lucky me…no awful ailments without any cure in sight.

I have my own room with a little bed, large picture windows and a vanity/dresser. I also have a spacious closet, which is more than I can say about the Little Blue Barn…lawl. I have no more space than I need, but no less, either.

Upon arrival, mi mama tica met me at the Universidad de Costa Rica campus. We took a taxi to my neighborhood, Curridabat, about 15 min away. She immediately served me fresh coffee (it’s to die for here!) and some bread with pistachios and olives in it that she made herself. Everything tasted delicious and I found myself falling right into the daily routine:

The family wakes up around 5:30 a.m., then Yadi (my mom) cooks a lunch for the day. Adriana and the dad go off to work around 6:30. Yadi assures me that there will ALWAYS be a lunch waiting for me when I get home from school, even if I took a sandwich during the day. We had a lengthy conversation about the benefits of cooking and eating inside the home. She buys all her produce fresh off the street corner, where her neighbors sell what they grow in their backyards. Her meat, she buys from a specific store, and always requests the cut with the least amount of fat (American Mom: it’s like I never left!).  She feeds me well. I am content with the eating situation.

Last night, we had a traditional Costa Rican dinner:  rice with vegetables such as carrots, celery, olives, some raisins and chicken all mixed in, and a side of red beans to match, of course. Beans and rice: the national dish here. Later, we had some Jell-O with powdered whole milk on it. I was little leery to try this, but am SO glad I did! It’s delicious. Who woulda thunk it?

I woke up around 8:30 and found a delicious breakfast waiting for me. It consisted of scrambled eggs, the same bread from yesterday, a bowl of fruit such as pineapple, papaya and cantaloupe and of course, fresh hot cafe (coffee).

Today began with a lecture at the university regarding the political history of Costa Rica and this weekend’s elections. Apparently, here, elections are basically a big party and everyone celebrates.

After the lecture, the entire group ate a little Italian restaurant, then we took a rather comprehensive tour of campus. I now know (or, at least think I do) where my classes will be this semester. On Monday I being orientation classes: a history class, a writing class and culture class. I’m excited, albeit a little nervous.

The Grupo de Kansas (official name of the program I’m in) office has an extremely helpful binder full of prior students’ ratings of classes, professors, etc. (*Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll be sure to form my own opinions, too).  Over the next week, I’ll work on getting my schedule juuuuuust right…so that I won’t have class on either Monday or Friday, giving me plenty of time to travel this breathtakingly beautiful country.

Ok, ok, time for my daily cafe! We’re having cappuccinos today. I’ll post again with pictures, hopefully!

Love and miss yous!

…oh, boy! Just got my cappuccino. She even sprinkled cinnamon on top. Time for some indulgence. Hasta! (Later!)

Testing, Testing 1…2…3…

Hello Everybody!

What follows is a test of my brand spankin new blog.  I promise this post will be the most boring of all, seeing as I’ve yet to leave the States.

I’ll do my best to update at least once/week, but realistically, it’ll probably be more like every other week. It’s okay, though! I have a tendency to include juicy details in my writing, and I’m sure many of you can attest to my overall proneness to rambling…kind of like right now.

Here’s to keeping in touch:

Skype account: hollie.farrahi

Google chat/gmail: farrahi.hollie@gmail.com

Alright, well, stay tuned for adventures, mishaps, silly Spanish words and much, much more.