Bibliophilia

Just a note: I'll get around to posting my update for July about a day after I manage to get off my ass and write it. I know i'm playing a dangerous game given that now it's August so every day that passes is filled with things I cant with good faith put in that entry. Writing my CAT (our community diagnostic) is making me not want to write anything at all, but since its due soon hopefully i'll have that update soon.

Now on to what i'm thinking right now- books are cool. Let me repeat and elaborate: books a pretty awesome. Let me tell you some cool things about them:

1) They write some of them in english

2) They're usually well written, and if they're not they manage to fail in a funny way

3) They're full of things you might not think of yourself. If you could, you wouldn't need to read it after all

4) They don't demand you keep to a schedule while reading them

5) They occasionally surprise you with having WORDS in them

6) They make good door stops

Nice list bozo you might say, but number five? Really? Yes. I deal a lot in coloring books. Words are nice.

So here's a list of books i've read since getting here:

The Reader

To Love a Thief (purely research)

Three Cups of Tea

I, Claudius x2 (ie: I read it twice since getting to Costa Rica)

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Table for Two

Saving the World: A Maximum Ride Novel

Love in the Time of Cholera x2

Guns, Germs and Steel

The Liar x2

A Million Little Pieces

Alice in Wonderland

The Outliers

Dorothea

Moreover, I now work in a library. No, not one I built, just one that was shoddily enough built that they asked me to help run it. As the municipal library of the city has a couple hundred books in english and none of the librarians or staff speak english, I get the wonderful, wonderfully frustrating task of cataloguing them, and the wonderfull power rush of writing up a spanish translation for the title and short spanish description of the plot of each one. I'd like to believe that one day some poor English (language) student writing his thesis is going to waste a good week trying to write a literary analysis of some tragically awful romance novel because my poor translation makes him think he's dealing with a greek tragedy. Some of the problems i've already run across: how do you translate The Grapes of Wrath? I went with Las Uvas Odiosas. Also, apparently Costa Ricans have no concept of the genre murder mystery. I explained it in detail to the librarian who got a very concerned look in her eyes. I now categorize murder mysteries on my chart of all the plots as "story that involves a crime and usually a murder then someone has to deal with it, but this is not a detective book, this is scary- be warned"

Also, I like digging through tourists' old discarded travel reading (which constitutes a good 90% of the collection) because a) I like seeing the kinda trash people read when they feel its justified by being "vacation lite" and b) because I found this note written on the inside cover of the murder mystery On the Street Where you Live by Mary Higgins Clark

"This is an exciting THRILLER. It will have you on the edge of your seat.

_______________________________

Oh Christopher-

As you are reading this, I am missing you. A LOT. I had a really good time with you, I hope the next part of your time isn't too lonely and your not crying because you miss my annoying ways and my sexy model poses. Keep up the good work with your sexy poses, you'll really go somewhere with them- be good- email me, call me, don't forget me. You are wonderful, thank you for putting up with me. I will talk to you soon. I miss you and love you. Call me when you get back!

Michelle <---look at that sexy autograph"

Michelle Michelle Michelle. First, Christopher probably never got your note, he probably just dropped off the book in the first place he could which is why it ended up here. Also, it's 'YOU'RE not crying'. Finally, don't be so desperate. After all, you have sexy model poses, if he knows whats good for him, he'll come back of his own accord.

June

Just a fun note, i'm uploading this on my one month anniversary at my site…this is my anniversary gift to myself… i'm going to drink a cappuchino, check my email, eat a salad then go to a movie, you cant tell me that doesn't sound fantastic. I spoil myself.

Speaking of movies, this might be the malaria pills talking but i'm pretty sure the A-Team is the best movie ever. Go check it out!

So, about important things…. my first month at site has been a ride of highs and lows. Most of the lows include the fact that I have no idea what i'm doing, what i'm going to do or what i'm suppose to do along with the fact that all the people i'm suppose to work with seem to think I know all these things and have abandoned me to my own devices. That, and my host mom not only hasn't introduced me to anyone here but instead actively discourages me from meeting anyone, and if I do, she talks bad about them in the hope that i'll give up on their company. Happily, most of my highs have at least been more varied. They include planting Caligula, my lime tree so that i'm assured that when it gets big enough to have fruit, i'll have at least ONE fruit available on a daily basis. Also, knowing that i'm educating the children of Costa Rica with my favorite books and my favorite music, and even more so because the CenCenai (daycare) at my site is looking to build a library…score! Finally, my personal favorite is the first day at the school where one of the kids was talking to me and mentioned wanting to become a surgeon- it was a great reminder that kids here want to learn and want to succeed even if they rebel against the system they have now.

There are two parts of the previous paragraph I want to elaborate on because I suspect they're things that might only remain clear to me.

The first is being able to use my favorite things to teach here. Since I got here i've been fighting a personal struggle between fitting in with the culture here and keeping what makes me in place. A lot of the things i've seen here are things I personally dislike such as grown women painting little flowers on their nails, the culture of teaching that focuses on rote memorization, the use of INSANE amounts of sugar and butter in all cooking (and the utter rejection of the idea of salad as an appropriate meal) and the ever-present novelas as the main source of creative expression in country. That being said, i've been trying to fit in and to understand what makes Ticos tick by participating in these things to try and find their benefits (of course there must be benefits or the practice wouldn't survive). Currently my nails are painted blue with pink flowers on them, I've learned to cook rice and beans, empanadas and platanos maduros and I know the plot line (even if having only seen one episode) of over 10 telenovelas. (If you were going to ask, my favorite is El Capo which can be summed up with the words "guard hippos") After four months in country I have been able to come to love certain aspects of this culture. Novelas are a lot of fun, even if they represent a pretty one sided way of addressing problems, women actually thinks their nails look good this way, rice and beans tastes delicious, and with the price of textbooks out of the budget of most people in my site, writing the material on the board to be copied down is one of the few ways teachers can transmit it to their students in written form. That being said, I need to keep being myself in part to save my sanity. I'm not going to spend all my time painting my nails and watching game shows just to fit in, I have to spend time doing things that make me happy as well. Which is why I love that I can use things that are fundamental to me (my favorite music and childrens books) both as a secondary resource by loaning them to the school's english teacher, but hopefully soon as a primary source when I start the inevitable english classes).

The second is the mention of rebellion in my schools. I wondered a little bit when I first got to my site about why I was here. There are two (by Costa Rican standards) mansions in this town. The town houses a mall, country club and about 15 factories. There are plenty of people and places with money that could be solicited for community projects. All the people in power here seem highly motivated and productive. Since i've gotten here, i've seen 3 different projects initiated that fit more or less exactly in the category of what i'm suppose to be doing, all of which got organized, funded and done without me hearing anything about them. I wonder if by the end of 12 months there will be anything even left for me to do without resorting to stealing work from other people's job descriptions. The only issue i've seen in my town that people seem legitimately unwilling to touch are the handful of "problem kids" in the schools. I have no argument with anyone that these kids can cause a problem. One of them punched a teacher in the face right in front of me. Another took all my papers out of my bag and ripped them up. Yet another got expelled for a reason I don't want to guess at since the kid who punched the teacher didn't even get sent to the principal's office. Most importantly, none of the teachers think there's anything left to save there and are more than willing to pass them off on me for whatever I can do with them. I guess I should be happy about that? Before I was told about their status in the school I had already made up my mind that they were my favorite kids in the school. I guess I really just hope I can do something good for them. If their teachers don't care anymore, and if i'm to believe the school councilors their parents haven't cared for years, how can I make them care? I've already revised my idea of what it can mean to be successful but I hope at least some of them don't end up like my friend Jeff who lives in the coffee fields and who graduated elementary school at 15 and got a girl pregnant by 16.

So about what i've been doing…

Well, I arrived in my town in about the most inglorious setting I can imagine. Not only did I leave WAY too much stuff for the second trip out to my site, meaning that I arrived with a suitcase and 6 small bags along with a full sized umbrella, I had to lug these things on one of the local buses, dropped my suitcase that then fell out of said bus that had to stop while I fetched it, then when I finally got to my stop had to walk the mile or so to my house in the dirt street full of potholes during a torrential downpour. I should mention though I had my umbrella with me, with three bags in each hand besides I wasn't able to use it. So I arrived at my house my second time there dripping wet with everything I owned covered in mud that had been kicked up from the dirt road. It was awesome.

Shortly after I realized that my town is infested in these little bugs about the size of fruit flies that must have mouths that cover about 90% of their body, which would make them utterly terrifying if they were the size of ordinary house flies. They bite, draw blood, then the bite hurts like the dickens for the next two to three days. By the end of my first week I had over 50 of these bites, with more than thirty on my legs and feet alone. I used an entire tube of hydrocortisone cream to be able to sleep. It was also awesome.

As far as things that didn't bring shame or pain to myself, I participated in a number of meetings and ceremonies. The first day at the school, I went to an acto civico dedicated to myself. Funny thing, the first time I went to a church I went to a service dedicated to myself as well. I also participated in an acto civico which was entirely devoted to praying the rosary. There's never a minute here that allows you to forget that church and state are joined at the hip. I got invited into the PANI (child protective services) regional office with a breakfast, and have since been invited to join the Junta (the overarching committee devoted to child protection). I've also visited two orphanages (by the time I publish this it will have been three) and hope to start a program with PANI, that runs them, to create a plan of action for how to help kids who age out of the system. I invited myself to the local CEN (state run day care) and am now working with a committee formed to help provide it with toys and books which it's severely lacking. Also, at a "shower" for the Cen, I met the president of the Associacion de Desarollo for the town so am invited to their next meeting. So its not like i've done nothing, just nothing with tangible effect which is what i'm dying for right now.

What I have done is read about 6 books, learned to say two phrases in french and written four chapters in my book. Now whether you think that's remarkable or not, what it is to my host mom is troubling. Along with salads, book learning is apparently also dangerous in her eyes, and she continually expresses her disappointment in me for choosing to participate in these anti-establishment practices. Another habit, which i've heard her lament to other members of the family but which hasn't yet bugged her enough to bring up to me is my ability to play cards which she claims is a sign that I hate other people?

Of the things that i've done that are acceptable in her eyes are cleaned the house head to toe about 3 times so far, helped various assorted family members study for their english tests, gotten addicted to the news (which if you remember that the entire country's population is smaller than that of Dallas is really more like local news, I keep expecting to see someone I know show up on it), gone to a baby shower for my newest host cousin in which I won at bingo twice and got growled at by an old lady, and finally went for bbq at a relatives house where I was introduced to Plants vs Zombies, the most addictive computer game ever.

Oh, and i've watched Mexico win twice in the mundial so far where has England's record is what again??? Sorry Matt, had to bring it up!...

May...just May

So you'll forgive me, won't you if I start with things that happened at the end of the month and move backwards? After all, in the grand scheme of things, i'm working backwards right now anyway, so you don't have much of a base to argue on, and besides, if you do wanna argue, you can't get at me all the way out here.

On the 21st of May I was finally sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer. In a lot of ways it wasn't that much different from my college graduation since I didn't feel any more professional and certainly not any more mature than I had when I woke up that morning, and just like in college, I had checked out a long time before so the magnitude of it kinda passed me by since in my head I had finished with training the day I went on my site visit.

That being said, I did get tripped up by one thing at swearing in. Maybe it was the solemnity of the occasion or the fact that we were kinda on US soil but I found myself crying during the National Anthem. Now i'm not unpatriotic, but I don't like saying the pledge or in fact pledging to anything except when drunk when I pledge any number of things. I had walked without emotion by the Declaration of Independence, Abe Lincoln's hat and the flag that the same National Anthem was based on but this time without reason I got tears in my eyes and looking around, I saw several other people in the same position.

That afternoon was bittersweet as I was celebrating with and concurrently saying goodbye to a lot of the people I had spent nearly all my time outside of my house with in the last few months. Granted we'll all be seeing each other in three months where we'll probably all be so changed with our individual experiences in our sites we'll probably be spending our time getting to know each other all over, but when I found myself that afternoon playing pool with the two biggest ladies men of Tico 20 and Joe (in his ladykiller shoes), I couldn't help wishing training had been organized with a whole week rather than one day at the end to hang out free of classes. Later that evening after after having to endure myself singing Abba in a karaoke bar, Abby's far too excited exposition on Hobbit wrestling, and having the bus that we waited for 45 minutes for in the rain break down twice, finally dumping us on some unknown corner that I knew that I would gladly trade both pairs of shoes I paid 2,000 colones for (especially the ones that fell apart about 100 feet from the house my first time out, just as Judith predicted) to have that extra week.

Ever since Technical week, my host family has been building a Panaderia (bakery) in our house. I say since tech week even though they first came up with the idea nearly three weeks before then because I arrived back home after a week away to find the entire house rearranged and most of the extraneous furniture heaped up in a pile in the front entry. In fact, the only rooms spared from the carnage of remodeling were my room and the kitchen (which I suspect was only saved after I spent the better part of an afternoon trying to convince Judith and Ritchie that uprooting all their appliances and moving the kitchen to another room just for the heck of it was going to be expensive and probably a lot of work besides). My last week in my site the hard work and the having to eat, hang out and live in the roughly 5 square feet not filled with piles of whatnots finally began to prove its worth with the beginning of the real work on the Panaderia. My last few days in my house were full of moving shelves and displays into the space (their old bedroom), installing a sink for who knows what and painting the whole thing. We didn't finish the entire construction by Saturday as they headily announced on Tuesday when we started the first bit of moving. (I know Kevin, I owe you a beer) Even though I knew it wasn't going to be finished however, I found myself working in all my spare time at home on getting it as close to completion as I could before I left. My last night in my house I spent hours painting grey onto the wall and around the unexplained sink. At the time I couldn't understand my dedication or the need I felt to finish it against all odds, but in retrospect I think every bit of grey I painted on the wall was almost a therapy for me, helping me move on and move out by ensuring that in a way my presence was still there in every drop of grey paint I had put on the wall.

So that was the end of the month. You might say--(well you can't say cause this is all written and besides you're all far away) "but Kari, you said yourself that started on the 21st of May and in this year of our lord 2010 i'm pretty sure May has 31 days." This is true, but I don't count my time in site as part of this month but rather the next one. Now that's cleared up, here are some other things that happened to me this month:

-I had a really awesome time grocery shopping for the family party with Harold and accomplices. In a few selected anecdotes, we made an illegal u-turn since after all we were in a diplomatic vehicle, we made that illegal u-turn to go to McDonalds for a McPinto that once we got there noone actually ordered and then we followed that up by eating nonstop for the rest of the day since every place we went afterwards had samples

-I had a really awesome time hanging out with Sophie my host aunt as we painted the Panaderia, and was honored by her trust in telling me that she's agnostic

-I had a really awesome time with the host kids learning both about their deepest fears (Noe's is pinatas and Josue's is clowns) and about their favorite pastimes (Memory, paper-airplanes and dunking the basketball in my dirty clothes hamper)

-I had a really bemused time imagining Alex making cheese in a well

-I had a really awesome time hanging out on the bench outside of my house w/ Kevin till untold hours while being harassed by one of my jealous security husbands on his security bicycle

-I had a not very awesome time at all fending off Pato's increasing flirting w/ me my last weeks in Chepe

-I had a really awesome time meeting the US Ambassador to Costa Rica in a dress I had fished out of the ocean not a month before

-I had a really delicious time eating pizza with the family as a last meal

and finally

-I had a really awesome time sharing with Nate some of the best music every written

Until next time, and remember… Jesus es verbo, no substantivo

April Doings (What was done in April)

As the lovely ladies of CYF know, wedding season is the most important period to be noted in a seasonal calendar, being even more important than the time of year in which white clothing is no longer tolerated. Following that lead, it only makes sense that April contained a wedding. Well, not the whole thing mind you. This wedding included the cake, decorations, music and invitations sure enough, but notably absent was the groom who is living in the United States and who i'm sure is blissfully ignorant of the whole hubbub. April was the month where we were suppose to be montando a project with kids in a civics class in the local colegio about peace (apparently?). Anyone with experience in any kind of school has already guessed that this meant lots of time waiting at the front entrance for the teacher or director or assorted henchmen to show up to collect us. In one of these sessions, we planned Tiffany's upcoming wedding. I got dibs on the cake, and its going to be awesome. Without giving too much away, with two years to practice (unless she jumps the gun this December which we're all rooting for) this cake will be so epic people who see it will be getting married left and right just to have one of their own. I take no responsibility for what that will do to social security when my cake fueled baby boom generation retires.

April, I guess, is also fall. Leaving summer behind and moving ever so reluctantly (for the people who know whats coming) towards winter, that sort of makes April fall right? Fall being my favorite month here, it only makes sense that my family would go out for an idyllic day in the Parque de la Paz. Idyllic because it included all the activities that comprise precious childhood memories such as kite flying, (Costa Rican) snow cones (which are made "Costa Rican" by the inclusion of obscene amounts of fat and sugar for "taste"), observing works by local artists in the form of poorly done graffiti and of course, sliding down a steep hill in a cardboard box. I thought it was strange at first to see hundreds of small children running up a hill with cardboard boxes before I realized that this is really much more dignified than rolling down it, and moreover, is kinda like recycling.

Along with the cultural patronage I had received at the hands on my host uncle and his spray can, I was also blessed in this month with the opportunity to expand my knowledge of classic film with a film almost rivaling in sheer awesomeness anything Smith College Film Studies 101 deems important. Would you believe that up until this point in my life I had never seen Saw? Sadly I wont be around to see all seven which my host parents are dead-set on doing, (get it, DEAD-set??) but if they're anything like the first one, I can't possibly understand how the Oscars could have passed up these masterpieces of cinematography! (Also, I finally saw The Princess and the Frog and was pleasantly surprised)

Unfortunately, as it always does, the hyperbolic curve of my life contrived to destroy me again. (here's a visual: http://www.revisioncentre.co.uk/gcse/maths/1overx.gif) As potential to have lived in a place long enough to be settled in and happy reaches infinity on one side, the time I spend in a place without making a fool of myself also reaches a tipping point at which the probability that i'll do something stupid to ruin myself in everyones eyes tilts sharply towards the impossible to avoid angle. And thus, my worst fears were nearly realized. Would you like to know about the boogeyman of CYF? The one we all hope and pray we'll never look in the mirror and realize is us? It was some dude who dated an underage girl. A person who came to this country to protect children only to (in the eyes of the law and anyone with morals) do the exact opposite. Did you also know its almost impossible to tell ages in this country? People who look 16 end up being 25 and people who look 25 end up being 16. Nothing more needs to be said on that front, except that I realized that to successfully keep myself out of jail these next two years I should never allow myself to find a Tico handsome lest the 'Peace Corp tragedy' that showed up on my MASH sheet comes true.

Speaking of Peace Corp tragedies, another near miss on this author's part inspired an urban legend called "Los Aspirantes a la Deriva." Based on an almost true story, it details the events that happen to a band of foolhardy volunteers who against the warnings of the ghost of JFK, wander into the jungle in search of a prophesied waterfall only be meet by and be done in by a mysterious man with a machete. As I said, this is very nearly true except for the parts that aren't, most important being that the man with the machete did not do anyone in, but instead was content to hang out and be half naked. (But very amiable!)

So while yours truly aptly avoided being the opening credits for a crime show once again, I'm happy to report that in my host family, health and well being were also the buzzwords of the month. Judith, since my arrival, had been suffering a painful and profound back injury that left her in constant pain and unable to walk at anything more than feet-shuffling speed. Concerned, she managed to get a date at the hospital for a back surgery that happened to fall roughly a week before it cured itself of its own accord. You didn't read that wrong by the way. Roughly a week after having her surgery, Judith participated in a prayer session in front of her whole church where she was magically cured of that same injury in what the preacher could only describe as a miracle and I can only describe as rather incredible. Long story short, people were weeping. With great passion.

With that powerful dose of the power of positive thinking, Judith's recover was swift, and she was soon her chipper self, but now walking at normal speed. Elated, she immediately set out to plan the rest of the life God had given her a second chance at. From what I could garner from her excited and far too rapid spanish, this mainly consists in having Cristiano Renaldo's babies.

Well that nearly concludes the list of things that happened that month, except of course for that day that I hung out in a bullring with prostitutes while we ran away from charging bulls. Which is kinda self explanatory as thats exactly what happened. Whats much less obvious than that is the fact that for some reason my spell check tries to correct the word prostitute to prostate. Will wonders never cease?

Till next month!

March Happenings (What happened in March)

My San Antonio family is a case. Upon arriving my first day, my introduction to them was warnings about what I might expect there. I don't remember which exactly came first, the "I'm a terrible cook and you'll be eating terribly…everyone complains" warning or the "The kids arn't here this weekend, take advantage of it cause you'll wish for death when they show up" warning but suffice to say, taken in tandem it made me warm to them immediately. I chalk it up in retrospect to the fact that Dan is obviously a psychic and doesn't take into account anything we might say (like me asking not to be put in a family with small children) but in fact puts us in the place that we've been secretly wanting the whole time.

It was a rocky start, mainly because I was suffering a pretty severe brand of homesickness mixed with a healthy dose of why am i here(???) and topped with the fact that the kids for the first three days after their prophesied arrival were utterly terrified of me. I mean, i know i'm bigger than them, but thats hardly an encouraging start to two years of working with small kids to realize within the first week that i'm as good as the boogyman to my target population.

An introduction to each family member:

Judith (age 26): Is terrified of natural disasters in a totally awesome way. Right after my arrival it seemed like the whole world was simultaneously being hit by an earthquake which she naturally took to mean that god was angry and the end of the world was coming. One of my best moments in country was an earthquake that hit us around midnight one night roughly a week after showing up, which caused my host-mom to bolt out of bed and yell at the top of her voice "Se acabo!!!" (which I can only assume refers to the world). An interesting side note: she also argues in her sleep. My first night with my family I was woken up in the early hours of the morning by her yelling "NO KARI!! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

Ritchie (age 23): Is, in case you didn't notice, the same age as me. The SAME age. With two kids and a house. A good reference to what my life would be like had I gotten married in or right after high school. Which in all honesty doesn't seem like such a bad life looking at him, especially if my kids were like Kevin's host brothers who I maintain are totally evil but totally darling. But however evil and endearing my imaginary kids would be, three months of both of them warning me with as serious as a face as they could put on that I should learn from their example and NEVER have kids has quenched that dream. Additionally, Ritchie's claim to fame within our house and around the local area is that he seems to have been born playing bass guitar and from there evolved to playing a whole one mans band worth of instruments.

Josue (age 2): Is basically Ritchie's doppleganger. With a vocabulary seemingly limited to "Hola Kari," "Mis tennis," and "No hay payasos" (the last one I find a very interesting window into his worldview), he finds expression both in the way he constantly looks depressed with his head hung down to his chest as he runs in circles around the house, and the fact that he's very likely to be a musical virtuoso. Not only does he play the drums, but when music videos play on tv, he takes his plastic guitar and plays and dances along with the song.

Noe (age 5): As much as Josue takes after Ritchie, Noe takes after Judith. Not only do they have arguments like a well tuned Abbott and Costello, they can both get amazingly distracted when the tvs on (him with Curious George and her with Troy, her weakness). Noe can be accurately described by the words "Monster Jam" which is what he lives and breaths. (If you don't crush small cars or turn wheelies, you might as well be dead to him.) That said, I have done these things with him, along with allowing him to school me in soccer, basketball (in full view of the mechanics shop next door), fort building and board games so we're cool.

A few more notes about my life that month:

-My family is evangelical. This makes two host families i've stayed with in Catholic countries. This particular church, located at the end of our street features kids who come to church dressed up as batman, Richie on bass guitar in the church band, a constant stream of people fainting and talking in tongues, miracles (as i'll talk about later) and religious movies whose openings are covered by local news (making this the second time i've been on tv in the last year and the 6th time overall).

-My family has drama. My first time having coffee with my extended host family happened to fall on the same day my host aunt got fired from her job.

-Police here have a file on me. During one of our first spanish classes, we had to walk around the neighborhood introducing ourselves to local business owners. We went to the police station, and after a brief interview with a far too concerned police officer, our presence is filed in San Antonio's police log.

-Along with directions ala Tica (which anyone whose seen my mailing address here has a taste of) mail can apparently also be sent to any old post office in country and for a small fee we can go pick up letters from the room in the back, assuming they're addressed to us

-I went to the hospital once, and almost went back on several occasions since apparently my body when I cross streets is a magnet for moving vehicles

-I have four "husbands" here, three have jobs related to providing security. I guess opposites attract?

Digamos que...

A very wise person told me today that while they were a pretty proficient writer before coming to Costa Rica, the more they practice and mejorar their spanish, the more the scale tips away from even the most basic english comprehension. I'm very glad they told me that, my misery as comparatively under-qualified as it is, loves company.

It began gradually at first, the shift in the balance of powers then with alarming frequency until now i literally feel the most basic english words slip out of my hands as i grasp for enough of what remains to fill the space until sentences end. My spelling is increasingly become a danger to myself and others as well. Boggle games devolve into discussions not of whether words exist (olde english totally counts) but how hone is spelled. or whet. or tie. At the same time, my spanish is not only improving but becoming noticably Tica. I no longer even hesitate before busting out Ud, and I have become indirect to a fault, throwing "digamos que" into conversation as if I were Charles Dickens being paid by the word.

Obviously, there is only one possible thing to do in this situation. Read Steven Fry. Therefore I leave you with this lucious tidbit from The Liar:

"Everything he saw became a symbol of his own existence, from a rabbit caught in headlights to raindrops racing down a window pane. Perhaps it was a sign that he was going to become a poet or a philosopher: the kind of person who, when he stood on the sea-shore, didnt see waves breaking on a beach, but saw the surge of human will or the rythms of copulation, who didnt hear the sound of the tide but heard the eroding roar of time and the last moaning sigh of humanity fizzing into nothingness.

But perhaps it was a sign, he also thought, that he was turning into a pretentious wanker."

Muy Helado

Hello my name is Kari and I live in Costa Rica. Enough with the introductions now on to my intimate thoughts!

Today was my 3rd day in Costa Rica, my first day with hot water in my shower and coincidentally also my birthday- happy birthday to me!

We got in to Costa Rica monday evening and were carted off straight to a convent on the hills overlooking San Jose (the Capital) which is where we're staying until saturday. We're still staying at the hotel/hostel? since we arrived and so thats all i've seen of the country except the two casinos and many MANY Quiznos we saw on our drive in from the airport (for sirius, more in that drive than i'd seen in my whole life).

Our life here has been what i expect the life of a nun to be like, waking up around 5am when a parrot right outside your window starts screeching, falling asleep and being woken up about 20 minutes later by the lawn mower passing right behind your head. Participating in ritual castigation in the form of standing in the freezing cold water for your shower hoping that with enough time and sheer force of will it will warm up to the temperature of the water in the sink taps, then spending the rest of the next 10 hours or so participating in classes, lectures and dinamicas (ice breakers) then running back to the room to throw on a fleece, crawl under 3 blankets and wonder how a country so close to the equator can be so cold

so maybe thats not exactly how nuns live...

My first moment of cross cultural realization happened yesterday when i learned all the outlets in this country have two prongs and my computer charger has 3. Therefore, until next time (when i've managed to pick up a converter) I bid you all adieu before my computer shuts down