Just Like Flying

On Friday our group departed San José for Monteverde. We stopped halfway up the mountain to watch the sunset. By far the most magnificent I've ever witnessed.

The hotel was more like a really long, divided cabin. Lots of bugs and spiders. Oh, and an iguana in our room that took some serious effort to capture and release outside of the cabin. It was, however, nice to be disconnected a little from the world of social media and be able to focus on all the nature around us.

On Saturday we went on a hanging bridge tour (not my favorite) and then on a canopy tour, which is what they call zip-lining here. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating. 

After a few lines that were "normal," our harnesses were switched to be prepared for the "superman" position. Instead of having to hold onto our harness and have our hands ready to break on the wire, we had our hands free and arms outstretched. (PLEASE NOTE: Do NOT watch this video with the volume all the way up on your device. I screamed literally the entire time.) 

It really was just like flying. Riding on the wind with my arms outstretched was a feeling unlike any other. I envy the fact that birds get to feel that way everyday of their lives. The tour ended with a 120ft bungee swing. 

On Sunday we departed from the hotel for our first official beach trip. Playa de Puntarenas is on the Pacific Ocean. Having only ever visited the Atlantic before this, I was in awe of the wonder and beauty of my new friend. 

Also, I am sunburnt. Being only 10 degrees away from the Equator makes getting burnt almost inevitable. But laying on the beach and playing in the ocean for even only a few hours was completely worth it. 

Pura Vida

Cosas from Costa

So much has happened during the past week and a half. This post is going to be a few shorter stories of the goings on here in San Francisco de Dos Ríos. On Saturday we went white water rafting. I had originally been really scared for this, but as soon as we got through the first set of rapids, those fears were assuaged.

The adrenaline rush was incredible. At calmer parts, we were allowed to jump out of the raft and swim in the river. I felt so gross afterwards, but it was so worth it.

The bus ride afterward, however, was less than magical. What was supposed to be a two hour bus ride soon turned into seven. There was a major accident on the road we were originally supposed to take. After two hours of literally being parked in the same spot, we turned around. Then we stopped for a bathroom break and turned back the original direction because it had apparently cleared up. Lies. Turned around again. This perpetual turning around meant driving through the mountains about three times. For someone who gets carsick pretty easily, this was my least favorite part of being here so far. 

The traffic here in general could be three blog posts by itself. A good measuring standard for the norm is rush hour in Columbus. Rush hour, though, could be compared to rush hour in NYC. I can barely ride passenger in it without feeling sick and anxious; I can't imagine having to actually be the driver. In this past week alone, the news has reported three major, fatal, multi-vehicle accidents. 

We also experienced the apparently very important tradition of celebrating birthdays. For just one of my classmates we've celebrated three times this week, along with twice for another classmate. Two fiestas, in class and in his casatico. His tico family went all out throwing a fiesta for all of their family and our entire group. Balloons, streamers, and confetti. Singing and dancing. The whole nine yards. There were banners with his name, as well as stickers that matched the banners on every styrofoam cup. 

Needless to say, I'm not terribly upset that I'll be spending my birthday here as well. My tica mom is a retired baker. Last night she made us pie (the first actual baked good since we got here). Phenomenal. We also have ice cream after dinner at least once a week. Olivia and I have serous trouble saying no to it. Ice cream here is probably the best I've ever had. I've been told that it's because nothing contains preservatives. 

With all the things going on, my favorite part of the semester so far is honestly the classes. I am learning so much. I look forward to both two hour classes every day. Our teachers encourage us to speak and practice actually using the language, which makes it hard not to learn. Our classes consist of both laughing till we cry and getting down to business. 

Tomorrow we'll be on a paseo to Monteverde to experience a "canopy tour." If I don't die from the 90 meter bungee jump, I'll have details afterward! 

Pura Vida

Fries and Cries

Classes started this week on Monday. After a bit of review, and getting some things switched around, I'm honestly really enjoying myself. I've already learned several dozen new words, and being here gives me the opportunity to practice them all the time.
On Saturday, we took our second Paseo to the museums in San Jose. It was really interesting to see the history that each museum revolved around. One of the featured artists made me think about Delaney, which was cool, but also made me miss her like crazy during the whole trip.

We also got to walk around a street market, and ate lunch in the city. (Side note: The Taco Bells here serve fries. I do not recommend them.)

Between classes and paseos, I think everyone in the group is starting to feel the exhaustion set in. Our brains are also consistently running, trying to make sense of Spanish and English at the same time, trying to communicate the essentials to our Tico families without too much confusion, and trying to blend in as much as possible, even though our large group of touristy friends gets stared at no matter what.
I had managed to keep it together in the ten days we've been here, making sure to keep in contact with home just enough, but not too much. I taught my family about Pura Vida the other night on FaceTime, and still managed to smile through a call where I really just wanted to cuddle up on the bed with all of them.

One too many preterite misconjugations, one too many trips I'd like to share with D or Joe, one too many cute puppies that aren't Steve, and all the exhaustion finally broke me last night. I had a good long cry, and a cheeseburger with Kool-aid for dinner, (Other side note: my Tica Mom makes amazing cheeseburgers.) and started today fresh - ready to keep learning and growing and experiencing amazing pieces of creation and adventure.

Pura Vida

Climbing the Rock

I'm still not sure today was even real.

Our first paseo was to Poas Volcano and La Paz Cataratas (waterfalls). We stopped for breakfast at Freddo Fresas. The breakfast was good, but it paled in comparison to the strawberry frescos. (Hey Mom, will you please put strawberries on the grocery list when I get home?)

We got back on the bus and headed for Poas Volcano. The little bit of hike was so worth it. The view was, well...

You're welcome. 

But seriously, if you ever have the opportunity to visit this country, this should be at the top of your list of things to see. According to my tico family, and our tour guide, Ronnie, there are usually so many steam clouds surrounding the top of this volcano that you can hardly see the crater in the middle sometimes. I've been told how lucky we were to see it, in both English and Spanish. 

When we were finally pulled away from that view, we got back on the bus to head to La Paz Cataratas. Before we even got to the waterfalls, we toured through the gardens, aviary, and other animal exhibits. 

I GOT TO HOLD A TOUCAN. I may have been so enchanted with the fact that it was happening that I forgot to take a normal picture, but I wouldn't trade that moment. 

After some more exploring of the aviary, we made it to the butterfly exhibit. Everyone was running around holding pieces of fruit, trying to catch a mariposa to take the perfect picture. After I finally caught one, it wouldn't get off my hand. Worth it though, because I ended up with several pictures like this one. 

While I was trying to get this one off, another landed on me and I minorly panicked for a bit because it was much larger than this one. 

We then got to see some monkeys, some frogs, and other animals, and ate lunch at a buffet that had a surprising amount of American food, but also the best rice pudding I've ever eaten. 

After quite a few stone staircases, we reached the first waterfall in the garden. Ay. Dios. Mío. I don't know what any of us were expecting, but we all looked incredibly in awe of this giant tower of water.

Between the three other waterfalls in the garden, and the breathtaking views, I couldn't help but never want to leave. Being surrounded in a creation as beautiful as this one had me in tears at least once.
My friends and I kept commenting that it felt too surreal and we were sure we were going to wake up at any moment.

Magical as it was, I had an important life lesson happen today as well.
Before I left the States, Emiliya, Delaney, and my parents were talking about what I'd be doing and seeing in my time here. When the subject of the waterfalls came up, all of them said to make sure I jump if everyone else does, because the experience would be like none other. The waterfalls in this park weren't for jumping in, and I knew that. After the first waterfall, however, my group was standing below it near the water. And a large rock.
If you've spent any time at all hiking with me, you know that there's just something about climbing on rocks, especially wet rocks, that terrifies me. I immediately told myself to stay on the sand and be in charge of holding people's stuff while they climbed up to take pictures. As I stood there, several phones in hand, I was reminded of my family's instruction to jump. Take the risk. My friends climbed up the rock to take their picture, and I followed. Sure, I couldn't bring myself to stand up all the way, and yeah, I had a hell of a time getting down from there, but I climbed the rock.

I'm taking this experience as a metaphor for this entire trip. I know there are going to be times when it seems that I cannot possibly take on one more new challenge - times that I get overwhelmed by homesickness and culture shock, but I also know that I will always regret it if I don't climb the rock.

Also... here is a stereotypical "we're from Ohio" picture:

Pura Vida

Primeras Impresiones

Call me a stereotypical American tourist, but welcome to my travel blog about my semester abroad in Costa Rica.
We all made it to Costa Rica in one piece - luggage and all.

Yesterday, we arrived in San Francisco de dos Rios, which is just outside the capital, San Jose. The minute we stepped out of the airport, it was obvious that this place was more than any of us had expected. After getting past the mob of taxi drivers awaiting potential passengers, we reached our bus that would take us to the school.
The traffic here certainly lives up to the rumors. The personal space that people tend to disregard in day to day interactions here is reflected in the way that ticos drive. It's not that they don't drive well, (apparently accidents happen way less often here than in the States) just differently than we do (with much more honking).
Despite the overwhelmingness of the traffic, we made it to the Spanish Language Institute (ILE) within the hour.

You know that smell of fresh air that you get when all the windows are open in your house in the Spring and the wind just blows through them and you feel so extremely at peace that all you want to do is stand there and breathe? That's what it smells like all. the. time. The windows throughout the school, as well as my casatico, are always open to let in the fresh air.

My ticomama is a retired baker. I have yet to eat anything baked by her, but WOWZA...this woman can cook. Not only the deliciousness, but the amount of amazing food I've had the past day and a half has been overwhelming. Both of my tico parents are incredibly generous and understanding of my language gap. There is another girl attending ILE staying at our house as well, who speaks almost zero Spanish (for now). I've had to translate some for her, which is going surprisingly well so far.

On day two, after a morning filled with Orientation, a group of us gringos decided to go to the mall. There are only two Spanish majors in our entire group, myself included, so this trip proved to be more interesting than productive.
Because none of us have super great service here, even if we do have data, we had to rely on screenshots of maps that we had pulled up using wifi before we left. The original set of directions said the mall was 0.9 miles away. Yeah, no. We ended up walking a little over 4 miles there, and then back as well. They also don't use precise addresses in Costa Rica. The streets have numbers, sometimes names, but they mostly use landmarks and "blocks." (A block is always 100 meters, no matter if that's actually how long the distance of the block is or not.)


Walking through downtown San Jose with only two people, of a group of 12, speaking the language enough to communicate with ticos was more stressful than fun. I was the one with the map on the way back, and felt very much like the mama of our group, which, while not outside my comfort zone, was harder than it ever is in the U.S.

I'm not entirely sure culture shock has set in yet. A lot of things are different, but the workers at our school describe it as much more dramatic than the feelings I'm having. I miss my family back home. I miss my Joe. I miss my perrito. But I still feel like I'm going to survive this thing, if not thrive in it.

Yes, I came to Costa Rica to improve my Spanish, but the lessons this country has to teach me have already gone beyond the classroom.

Pura vida,
Kailey