And the winner is...

FYI...This is not my first attempt to post. This is my third official post of the same blog...this site was lame and messed it up.


This week, like many weeks thus far in my Peace Corps experience, has had a couple ups and downs. On Monday, I went to San Jose for two very different reasons. The first was to attend a photo exhibition/contest put on by the Peace Corps that displayed photos of life in Costa Rica by current Peace Corps Volunteers. If I’m not mistaken, 4 Tico 22’s had made it into the top 25 and had photos on display. The other reason I made my way to San Jose was that another Tico 22, this time an RCD volunteer was going home for good. This time, it was a medical separation.

When I got to San Jose, I checked into a hostel favored by volunteers and found that many others were already there. As I waited for the kids from my group to get in, I took the time to get to know some of the senior volunteers. I also took a fat nap. Seriously, the beds were so comfy, especially in comparison to my current bed that those 4 hours flew by like nothing. It was amazing. It turns out that even though I don’t get the opportunity to sleep much since coming in country, I still love it! Just thinking about how wonderful that nap was makes me sleepy.

Finally, some of the RCD kids trickled in and hang out time started. We went to the mall for a bit to eat ice cream and shop around a bit. I went into the bookstore to find a present for my host-sister, Anita, because her birthday is coming up in October. There wasn’t much of a selection, but I picked out “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Well actually, it’s “Charlie y la Factura de Chocolate.” I never read it, but I liked the movies. Maybe if I ever get through Harry Potter in Spanish, I’ll be able to borrow it one day. Anyway, I figure a book would be a good gift because they don’t seem to have any and I really think that she’ll like it. I also decided to get the book early because I’ve tried browsing the bookstore in my site and the selection is really sad. Seriously, I think that there’s like 30 to choose from total.

We made it back to the hostel and hung out a bit before deciding that we should go out for some drinks. It was Katie’s birthday so it seemed only right. Plus, Tina, the one being medically separated, wanted to get out. We took a Canadian girl who is staying at the hostel that Tina made friends with on her last stay at the hostel. She is currently studying the health and school systems of the country. From what she said plus our own experiences with the systems in the country, it just seems so bleak. It’s so hard to see how the system can change after being in so deep. I guess that’s why Peace Corps still exists in Costa Rica. After having one drink at a bar, we decided to go to the grocery store and bring back stuff and hang out the hotel. Not only is it more comfortable, but way cheaper. We basically killed a box of Cheez-its, a bag of Archer Farms chips (Thanks Cheryl), a thing of chocolate, and a bag of popcorn. It was kind of amazing. I’m pretty sure that we still went to bed before 12. Yes, even with the nap, I was still extremely tired.

The next day was the exhibit and some of my CYF friends finally made it into town along with a few other RCD’s. I went out to lunch with a few of them at a really good veggie place not far from the hostel or the place where the exhibit was being held. Melissa even managed to talk her way into getting a 15% Peace Corps discount.

We finally made it to the exhibit and there were surprisingly a lot of people there. Not only was it full of current volunteers and staff, but there were many RPCV’s (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) as well. It was quite a fancy event. It was actually kind of weird seeing everyone looking so cleaned up. This is probably because it is pretty rare to have an occasion to look sharp when you’re serving in the Peace Corps. After checking out the photos for a bit, we were all herded into an auditorium where there was a little ceremony in which the winners were chosen. It was kind of cool because they really emphasized the importance of volunteers and had all the PCV’s stand for recognition. It was nice. I mean since swearing-in, I feel like our work and sacrifices don’t get credited very often. It always feels good to get a good public pat-on-the-back.

The contest recognized the top 5 photos, which happened to be more exciting than I thought it would be. Three of those winners were Tico 22’s, which after the month we’ve been having, it was refreshing to see good things happening to our group. Seeing my friend, Allen, win was definitely the most exciting part. Most of us knew that he would take it, but it was just so amazing actually seeing it happen. He totally deserved it. Not only is he super talented, but he is also one of the nicest people I know. He is also the kind of guy that prefers to stay in the background and shies away from the spotlight. To see him get recognition and be the center of attention for a day was something else. The kid was so stoked too. You couldn’t help but be happy for him.

That night we celebrated by making some top ramen for dinner and having drinks at the hostel with the other volunteers. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but it was definitely a night that just makes you feel good when you look back. I guess the only downer was that it was Tina’s last night. Even so, the general mood was pretty good. It was confirmed that all my Celtic blood must be in my liver. It actually surprised me considering that I stay away from all forms of alcohol in site and figured my tolerance would be a lot lower. Guess not!

So after crashing out, I woke up the next morning realizing that Tina had not woken us up like she told us she would to say goodbye and had already left. I have talked to her since, but it is still kind of weird to know that another one is gone. Every time someone leaves, it naturally makes me reflect about how I would feel if it were I. All I know is that I’m not ready to go home. I have experienced very miserable times. I battle with mosquitoes, mold, fungus, and sweat every single day. Yet if someone told me that I had to pack my bags and wouldn’t be able to come back, I think it would just be devastating. It’s actually quite weird. I long for home and all the comforts, and yet the thought of being forced to go back for good is horrible. Don’t get me wrong. I can’t wait for Christmas to come around so that I can go back and see everyone, but I’m not done here. I kind of love my dysfunctional community and I would hate to leave it before my time.

Anyway, after saying goodbye to the rest of the volunteers, I had lunch with Allen and Maitreya before going back to site. While I was waiting for my bus, I ended up having a conversation with this guy from Florida who was here for the craziest reason. It turns out he comes to Costa Rica often to surf and the last time he was here, he brought his 15-year-old daughter and one of his friends who has a hotel here had attempted to rape her. He was on his way to beat the crap out of the guy and then go around town and ruin his reputation. It was really a crazy story. I’m not sure if it’s true, but it is quite believable. Things like that happen. Who knows. This might enforce my general hesitation to engage in conversation with other gringos.

So, I made it back to site and things have gone on as usual. I introduced a new song in my English music project. It was pretty exciting. Kids are coming up to me telling me that they’ve downloaded the last song onto their phones. It’s just satisfying to know that even if the messages aren’t getting through, I do hope they are, at the very least I am making connections with these kids. Plus, it’s just cool to see them be excited for something related to school. My next project is to work with Asociación de Desarollo to activate another committee that specializes in kids. If we can launch that, we may be able to use some of those funds to build the playground that the parents have been requesting. Today, a kid from the high school came to my house looking for me wanting help with her English. I was kind of surprised that someone found me looking for assistance. It was kind of exciting. I then found out that there are lot of kids who are struggling with English and might be interested in help, but are too embarrassed to seek me out. Well, I’ll start with the girl tomorrow and if there is a legit interest, I might just have to start an English Club. That just might be the step I need to get to know the high school kids in order to launch other projects. Oh, the life of a volunteer. There’s always more work to do if you just look.

Well, that’s all for this week. I’ve decided to add some pictures of my new house as requested by my mother. Until next time.

My new house.

My room.

Our family room/dining room/kitchen.

The chicken coop.

Our outdoor stove.

Lots and lots to Celebrate

The past couple of weeks have been incredibly crazy. Not only have I been transitioning to my new host-family, but the country has also been busy with celebrations for the past couple weeks. Last week was Día del Niño, which I think should be celebrated in the States. It’s basically like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, but Kid’s Day. This week we were busy with el Torche, Faroles and of course, 15 de Setiembre, which is their Independence.

Like I was saying, besides adjusting to my new house, things at the school were kind of crazy. Everybody was busy getting ready for some kind of celebration. It was complete chaos. People were stressed out making decorations, training kids how to march in formation, or trying to figure out who was going to run the torch. I was busy minding my own business, aka spacing out, when all of a sudden a bunch of teachers grabbed me and asked for my help. Of course I want to help, I’ve got nothing else to do. I don’t have any projects running. Why not? They drag me to one of the classrooms and I realize that they want me to dance. OK, let’s clarify things. They didn’t want me to just dance for their own entertainment; they wanted me to participate in a dance with them in a performance for Día del Niño. So, if you know me at all…dancing is kind of horrific. I’m kind of bad at it. Thus, the prospect of having to dance in front of an audience, sober, is slightly terrifying. Then I think, “Well, I’m gonna be asking these kids to put themselves out there and challenge themselves with some of my projects. I need to step it up too.” I learn the moves, which actually were fairly simple and agreed to attend the last minute practice the next morning.

So the next day, I went to the school dressed in a plaid button-up and jeans as everyone working at the school was told to dress up like cowboys. I was ready to practice the dance and perform in front of the kids. However, Rodrigo was taking over for Don Carlos, the principal, for the week while he went off to Peru. Oh yeah, our principal decided to take off during the craziest week of the year. Anyway,Rodrigo needed my help using the computer and figuring out how to get into Don Carlos’ e-mail and such. Well,this caused me to miss the dance practice, which led to me not being able to participate in the performance. Oh, bummer. That probably ended up being for the best as I decided to bust out my SLR camera and take photos throughout the day. I’m much better at that than dancing.

Día del Niño was a lot of fun. There were no official classes and the day consisted of performances and eating. Not only did the teachers do a dance, but also almost every class had some kind of performance. The kids were also allowed a free-dress day and kids who dressed in costumes were entered into a raffle. After the performances,the kids went to the classroom where the cooks catered lunch and later everyone got ice cream cones. Yum. Since the school is divided into an AM class and a PM class, we basically did the whole show in the morning and repeated it in the afternoon.

Some of the kids dressed in costume.

3rd Graders doing a performance.

One of the students during a Michael Jackson dance contest.

The teachers doing their dance.

Monday rolled around and I decided to collaborate with Erlin, the English teacher, and launch an English music project. It basically consists of popular songs in English that we listen to during English class and translate into Spanish. The goal is to get kids to learn English in a medium they enjoy, while also exploring positive messages. I figure it’s an easy project for starters and I don’t have to work too hard in finding a counterpart or a space to work in. Small steps. So, I started out with Katy Perry’s “Firework,” because I’ve heard it on the radio here and thought it would be good to start off with something familiar. The kids seemed to like it and were really trying hard to translate they lyrics themselves. I would say that it was a good experience all around. They were learning English, I was learning Spanish, and Erlin was picking up some new English phrases. Win, win, win. Couldn’t ask for better.

Later that day, Erlin invited me to stay the night at her house to visit and hang out with her family. It was definitely an interesting experience. Living in my town, I can sometimes forget that not all of Costa Rica is like this. It was a bit surprising to stay at someone’s home where there’s a master bedroom, each kid gets his own room, and they even had an office. It felt familiar and comfortable. Sometimes it blows m ymind when I suddenly remember, “Oh yeah, I used to live like this.” It’s so different from what I now experience every day. On the one hand, it made me happy to see that not everyone in Costa Rica lives in poverty. On the other hand, it makes me sad that so many do.

That night, I went to a Tae Kwon Do class with her family and was pleasantly surprised that I could keep up with everyone. I was kind of nervous that after being sick and not working out for the last few weeks that I would be out of shape,but it turned out that I had no issues with the cardio part of the class. Once we got to the part with the kicking, spinning and turning, I got confused. It was still fun, but it quickly became clear that I have two left feet. It wasn’t horrible,but it did resemble the montage in Karate Kid where Ralph Macchio sucks and is trying super hard. However, I never got to the part where I become awesome and kick ass. Either way, it was still super fun. I would totally keep doing it if the class wasn’t an hour away from where I live. Sigh. I guess I’ll just keep running in the field. Maybe I’ll start my own exercise class here. We’ll see.

On Wednesday, the school’s official Independence Day celebrations began. The country has a tradition in which students from all the schools and high schools are chosen to carry the torch. It’s very similar to the Olympics’ torch run. A team of students visit a school, where they wait for the light to pass to their torch and run to their own school where another team of students wait to light their own torch. It’s actually really cool to watch. It’s kind of intense for the kids who have to run longer distances. In our school, teams of eleven kids from the 6th grades were chosen to run the torch. Somehow after Día del Niño, the school named me the official photographer. This meant that I was lucky enough to do a ride along and watch the process.

I rode with Rodrigo to a nearby school a few kilometers away and met up with the team and their teacher, Gabby. When we got there, I realized that we had to wait for their students to arrive with their torch before we could run with ours. It felt like half the day consisted of waiting. It was hot and there weren’t many places to sit, but it was a cool opportunity to get to know some of the kids a little bit better. I couldn’t have been stuck with a better bunch of kids. Finally, their team arrived and we did a lighting ceremony and we were off! Gabby decided to go on foot and I jumped in the car with Rodrigo where along with paramedics and police escorts, we tailed the team. We lost Gabby really quick as she was walking and the team was running,but we continued on our way following the students. It was one of the most fun things to do. Some of the kids that were lagging had to jump in the car to hitch a ride for part of the way because they wouldn’t have made it to the end. Besides that, a few falls, and the torch going out a few times, it went pretty smoothly. Half of the team ran the whole way. I have to say, I’m especially proud of Julie, the one girl who made the whole way. What a bad ass. Not to take away anything from the guys either. It was a tough run. It was hot and in the middle of the day. A few of the guys had to hitch rides part of the way also. So we finally made it back, passed on the flame, and had an acto civico. After that, I went home to rest before having to return that evening for the faroles. I could have stayed at the school and helped decorate the school with the teachers, but I was beat and needed a break.

The team, fueling up before the run.

The kids and Gabby waiting at the other school.

The team running on the freeway.

The team during the last stretch of road to the school.

Some of the team resting after their run.

Later that day, I went back to the school with both my host-sisters for the faroles. Faroles are basically lanterns. Another tradition Costa Rica has is that students make faroles and everyone lights them walks through the streets at night. I guess it’s their version of lighting up the night for Independence Day. We have fireworks. They have faroles. It’s actually a really cool site to see people walking together with all these lanterns lighting the way. Oh, so finally Gabby turned up. I was getting worried about her. I would recommend that she ride in the car next time

My host-sisters, Beatrice and Anita, and Anita's friend.

The following day was September 15, the day of independence. I went to the school early to take some pictures of everyone getting ready for the acto civico. I’m glad I went early because the parents were starting to gather around the fence and that always makes me nervous. There is just something very scary about a crowd of over-excited parents. It seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

So the ceremony started and it turns out that all the practice that the kids had been doing for weeks paid off. It was super cool. Of course, it started with the flag being carried in and the national anthem, a prayer and a speech from Don Carlos, who had come back the night before. Actually the speech from Don Carlos, while a good speech, lost me a few times. Don Carlos is a man who likes to talk. His speech reminded me of those long-winded often times off-topic speeches my dad used to make. To quote my dad, “A good speech is like a dress. It should be long enough to cover everything, but short enough to keep people’s interest.” Let’s just say that Don Carlos’ speech would be compared to a ball gown as opposed to cocktail attire.

Anyway, the good stuff started and it was really impressive. The younger kids did traditional dances in traditional garb, a few kids did some bombas, traditionally from the Guanacaste province, and the selected “best” did a march with the flags. The ceremony ended with a traditional dance with kids dressed up in masks taking people from the audience to come out and dance with them. Again, being the “official” school photographer, I took many photos and got to be up close and personal. At one point, I almost got run over by a kid dressed as a bull during one of the dances. I did get a good photo though. Through all the stress and hard work, it ended up being quite fun and successful.

My day didn’t end there, however. I then went with Manuela, our school cook, to Orotina to catch the festivities there. There was a huge parade consisting of people from various schools and high school marching down the street. My host-sister, Beatrice, was in the parade and my host-mom wanted me to get photos of her. Also, Manuela’s son, Luis was also in the parade. It was crowded! It was hard to get a good spot, but I managed to get a few shots. After that, I quickly lost interest. I was hot and tired and the parade was just sooo long. There were some cool things like cheerleaders doing stunts and such, but otherwise it was more of the same. Lots of marching, lots of dancing. My host-dad found me and asked me to take some pictures of him and Beatrice after it was over. I then lost him. It was so crowded that I never found him. Manuela then took me out to lunch and as we were eating it started to pour. Well, we had to go through it to make it to our bus, but unfortunately her daughter, Kendi and a friend were also with us and they didn’t have umbrellas. So we had to put to people under each umbrella and run for it. I took Kendi under mine. Being the good person that I am, I let her have most of the umbrella and I got soaked. That didn’t matter. All I cared about was that my bag that had my camera and other electronics stayed dry. Mission accomplished. I didn’t end up ever finding my host-family, and I figured that they went home. I got there and they still hadn’t made it home. They decided to wait out the rain before taking a bus home. Well, we didn’t get to take the pictures, but we all agreed that it was a good day. Exhausting, but good day.

Don Carlos during his speech. At this point he's talking about the trees, I think.

The kids doing a traditional dance.

The kids during the march.

The kids in masks coming towards the audience.

One of the kids in masks asking for someone in the audience, Manuela, to join in the dance.

Speaking of my host-family, I know people must be wondering how my new situation is going. I must say that it is pretty amazing. They are the family that I have been waiting for since training. Everyone is so sweet and not over-bearing about it. The house is comfy and doesn’t overheat. I didn’t realize it before, but now that I have them again, I have really missed doorknobs! It’s so crazy how simple things can make me so happy. Also, I really like my host-sisters. They’re super cute and really mellow. They are easy to hang out with. I’m kind of hoping that as we get to know each other better, it continues to go swimmingly. We seem to share a mutual respect of each other so I think that we won’t run into any major problems. Plus, I’ve seen what dysfunctional host families look like, I have a deep appreciation for the good ones. So, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I’ve finally found my Tico family. Ironic really…my town was expecting a blond-haired blue-eyed American and got a Filipino-American where I was expecting to get a typical Tico family and got a Nicaraguan-Costa Rican family. Already we are breaking stereotypes. Cross-culture win!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

As David Bowie sings, “Turn and face the strange, Ch-ch-ch-changes…” The past couple of weeks have been full of changes and strange happenings, so sit tight because there might be some good stuff in this story.

A couple of weeks ago, two days before I had to leave for San Jose for PDM (Project and Design Management Workshop) and IST (In-Service Training), the couple that is living in my house had their baby. They brought home their bundle of joy the day before I was set to leave and I have now have an understanding as to why new parents always look so tired and haggard. It’s not a myth that babies don’t sleep, except in the case of my nephew back home...like the rest of us Suba’s, he’s been a sleeper since birth. Anyway, that was not the case with this baby. I was so tired and delusional, that when I woke up the morning I had to leave, I thought, “Wow, that chicken sounds really weird. What’s wrong with it? And why does it seem so close? Is it outside my window?” Blink, blink. Think. “Wait! That’s not a chicken. That’s the baby!” My chain of thought then jumped, “Ok, somebody take care of that! Saying a quick, ‘shhhh’ is not helping.” Now, I’m not a parent and thus no expert, but I’m 99.99% certain that when you have a newborn fussing, shushing it does nothing.

I got ready, and made sure everything was packed since it was decided that I would move my stuff that day so that when I got back from IST, Peace Corps would just have to check my new house and I would be set to move. The fact that the shower broke that morning only confirmed my convictions that I had to get out of there. I went to school and waited for my counterpart as he was going to help me speak to my host-mom and move my stuff before we set off for San Jose. I was also bringing him to participate in the PDM. Anyway, so we went to my house and realized that my host-mom had already left at like 4 am. Well, thanks a lot lady. No “Good night,” no “See you later,” or even “have a good trip.” I can only come to the conclusion that it doesn’t really matter to her what I do or where I am. Anyway, it was decided that I would move after training since it would be rude to just move without informing her.

Anyway, we went on our way, and PDM was awesome. It was actually really awesome. Not only was it fun to see my friends, but it was cool to work with our counterparts also. All of a sudden all of our training doesn’t seem so abstract anymore. Also, it was really interesting to see what all my peers have been up to and what their plans are for their communities. It made me super excited to start projects with the school and I’m thinking that Don Carlos, my counterpart, was getting excited also. He’s always been supportive of my ideas, but working together to go through the steps and process of carrying out a project is so helpful. My first project is going to be a Chic@s Poderos@s. That’s basically a 10-week workshop on a gender-focused group to work on self-esteem and positive attitudes, something that the kids here definitely need.

On the last day of the PDM, Don Carlos didn’t show up to the session. Being the paranoid person I am, I automatically dreaded the possibility that something had happened to him in his room. So, a few of the Peace Corps staff started to look for him. My boss finally got a hold of him and found out that someone had broken into his house and attacked his dogs. The good news is that after a trip to the vet, the dogs are OK, but it was definitely a scare. Other than that, PDM went super well. After being assured that everything was OK with Don Carlos, I was able to continue enjoying my time there.

To top things off, we were staying at a really nice hotel. It was really nice to live the cushy-life for a bit. It was exactly the break I was looking forward to for the past month or so. Life was good. The beds were incredibly comfy. There were hot showers with great water pressure. Rooms came with a flat screen TV. The gym! Oh man, I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen a gym, but really…a few of us just stood outside of it gawking and the machines. It’s quite the shock after being away from such technology for so long. What’s more of a shock is looking at your reflection in the mirror after months of not really seeing yourself. It’s not pretty. It’s quite scary actually. I have realized that when I’m at site, I’m walking around looking like a hot sweaty mess all the time. What a revelation. Anyway, we took advantage of all the resources available while we were in the city. I’m pretty sure that I gained back some of the weight I lost at site. It was a time to work hard during the day and play hard at night (or if you’re me, just relax and enjoy the company of friends).

All of a sudden, things took a change when the IST part of our training started. I’m pretty sure it not only surprised the PCV’s but also our Peace Corps staff. Let’s just say that there were a lot of WTF moments. I’m not sure what exactly set it off, but the tone of our group got pretty grim quickly. I think it started off with a few shared stories of rough times and just snowballed from there. One of our peers was especially having a tough time and it definitely set a ripple through our little group. It not only affected me because I was concerned for him and his well-being, but I know it made me check myself and where I stand in my service. I’m sure the others did as well. Our group cohesion was also brought into question. There is still debate as to whether that problem exists or not and whether it was relevant to our personal experiences. Anyway, our project team addressed the situation and gave us the time and space to talk about our expectations and how to improve our situations. Like mother wolves they shook us by the scruff a bit and reminded us that there’s a reason we’re here and that we shouldn’t so quickly go running with the negative events that have happened. The truth is that if any one of us keeps riding that train, he or she will lose the motivation to stay here and our already tiny group will dwindle further. Considering that we swore in with 14 and are now down to 11, it would be tough to lose anyone else. I suppose it’s a good thing that I am “blindly optimistic,” as my friend Maitreya describes me. I never really thought of myself as optimistic, in fact it’s kind of scary that people believe that I’m the optimistic one in the group. I would rather say that through all the chaos and mess that we call life, I’m just crazy hopeful. Either way, I’ll take it as a compliment. It can only work for me. I also believe that deep down the rest of us are silly people also living on the upside. I mean if I were the only optimistic person, nobody else would be here. I know we can bitch with the best of them, but we’re still here and moving forward, so we must be doing something right.

Anyway, the last day of IST I was not feeling so well. I went through the day feeling nauseous and light-headed. By that night, my joints were aching and I had a fever. My roommates, Emily and Claire decided that we should call the medical officers and go to the hospital. Turns out that was a bright idea. Claire took me to the hospital where they were surprisingly quick at getting to me. So I left her in the waiting room while I went into the triage room, they discovered that my heart was beating a bit fast and I expressed my concern about dengue since I seem to be the food of choice of all the insects in Costa Rica, but most especially the mosquitoes. There was also a bit of an outbreak in my region. Don’t worry; after the doctor checked me out, he said that it was a bacterial infection. I was then brought into the back where they had me lay on a bed. That was when one of the nurses brought out a cart. At this point I expected that they were going to draw blood for tests. I have to say, I can take shots like a champ, but something about sticking a foreign object into veins and blood makes me queasy. So, I look over to see what the nurse is doing and to my horror, he’s holding an IV needle. Oh man, that was some scary stuff. I actually broke out in a sweat. While I waited for whatever it was they were giving me, I updated my friends back at the hotel. They then rushed over with a bunch of stuff. While I couldn’t eat any of the goodies they picked up, I definitely appreciated the effort. It was really comforting to see my friends come out to support me. Although, I must say now having been the visitor and the patient, I would much rather be the visitor. Not only are you sick when you’re the one having visitors, but it’s also really disconcerting to see the worry on everyone else’s faces. It’s touching and at the same time completely freaky. After a couple of liters of whatever solution it was, they pulled out the IV (it hurts a lot more coming out than going in, thank you Claire for the heads up) and I was sent home.

The original plan was for me to go home the next day with one of my bosses, but because I was sick, I was ordered to stay in San Jose another day. That ended up being OK as there were a few others who had to stay in town for medical reasons as well. Here began the great hotel/hostel tour of San Jose. I managed to get another med day off and used some of my nights out to stay out of site for a few more days. From here, a bunch of us infirmed hopped around San Jose trying to find the most comfortable place for the best price. It was exhausting yet interesting. I now know which places I would never want to go back to and those that are nice but I probably will not use again unless Peace Corps foots the bill. While moving around was kind of a pain, it was nice to decompress among friends and do absolutely nothing. A few of us did go see Captain America which was a much better than the last movie I saw here in Costa Rica. I must say that I miss going to the movies. I truly am an escapist. It was also fun getting to spend some time with the RCD kids, since there hasn’t been much RCD/CYF inter-group hangouts.

After bumming around San Jose and refusing to return to site unless I could move houses straight away, the time finally came when I had to go back. That was definitely an interesting experience that I never want to repeat again. “They say that breaking up is hard to do…” and it’s true! Yeah I know, it’s just a host-family who I wasn’t super stoked on in the first place, but when you reject the crazy, they react, well…kind of crazy. So I was told to call my host-mom before I left the Peace Corps office with one of my bosses so that she would know when we would be getting into site. Naturally, after she assured me that she would be there, I assumed that when we got to the house she would be there. Well, we got there and she was not. So, we waited a bit and then decided to check my new house to save time. That went well. My boss really liked the family and thought it was a good fit. We went back to my house and my host-mom was still not there. So we waited for as long as we could before my boss had to leave. She did help me move some of my stuff first, though. So after she left, I went to the school to talk to one of the teachers about moving the rest of my stuff. She agreed and when we got to the house, my host-mom was there and we tried to explain why I had to leave. Let’s just say the reaction was bad. She refused to address me and didn’t believe that Peace Corps was behind me. She went into hiding as I took out the rest of my things from my room. I had to hunt her down to say thanks and tell her I was going. Her reply was a snooty, “Fine, I’m calling your boss.” I left the keys and went. Good riddance. I then e-mailed my boss to give her fair warning about voice mail that was waiting for her and explain the situation. As expected, she supported me and didn’t think it was a problem.

That situation does make me think that there should be some kind of training on how to break up with people with whom you would like to end relations. It sounds silly, but it can be tricky in another culture and language. Add the fact that most people want to get rid of their families or counterparts, it can be an extremely sticky situation. It produces lots of anxiety! I know many of us are experiencing this anxiety in some form or another. There really should be some kind of session on it.

So, now I’m settling into my new home. It consists of two parents and two daughters. It’s so different already. They are not only so mellow and peaceful, but they talk to me and want me to feel part of the family. They definitely have a humble lifestyle and don’t have much, but they are so nice that it’s easy to get past the lack of creature comforts. Also, the house is way better than my last one. The government has a program where they sometimes build poorer people houses. They were lucky enough to be one of those families. Don’t start to think I’m living it up though. My bed is basically a 2-inch foam cushion on ply board, but I don’t mind. I feel like I’ll be gaining a lot more than losing with this change. I guess the next step is to get to work and start projects. Let’s see how that goes.