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
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