Chapstick, Chapped Lips, and Things Like Chemistry

 "I know, nobody wants to stay home, while the rest of us, go out and make a day of it," thank you for your kind invitation to fun, Matthew Thiessen.  When in your in a band and making pop punk music riddled with jokes that please adolescent fan clubs, I imagine, it must somewhat be akin to living life abroad, rent free, with ample funds to explore the country.  It all becomes so much less serious, and being serious, to the point of being a tortured soul, was, what I thought, could be called a special gifting of mine.  And slowly am I beginning to disabuse myself of that divine calling.  I don't want to give up the higher callings of academia and religious/philosophical pursuits, but I'm not going to get caught up in the existence of my soul while the sun is outside and I have so many friends around me.
A little background.  I spent maybe 6 weeks at home planning.  Ecuador at that time was a brief interlude to what was going to be the next stage in my life.  Ecuador was a step away from Arkansas, a half-break, and a time to turn myself slowly to medicine as a new way of life.  For those 6 weeks I was looking up job information, grad school programs, missing the friends I had made in Arkansas and college.

What I want to say is that it was difficult.  It was difficult because life had seemed to stop moving.  Whenever I have been home, since I left for college, home to me has been the contrast from "live music" to "recorded music."  College, Arkansas, Costa Rica, then Ecuador are changes.  Changes that occur at an average rate of 1 change in location every 21.25 months, more change if I count studying abroad, but I didn't want to do the math again.  What a change each has been.  All this unpredictable movement, this influx and confluence in my life gives it the feeling of watching live music, a jazzy improvisation.  I don't know where I will end up, because I have no idea who will find their way into my life.  But home, yes, home was why I began talking about this.  Home is like listening to "Amelie" the soundtrack.  At times it makes me content, emotional, sometimes sad, but not too often does it take me by surprise.  It has one of the highest play counts on my itunes.  I know what to expect.  And because I know what to expect, I don't feel pushed anywhere.  I have to work a lot harder to keep myself engaged.  I took up cooking, learning Irish music, lots of Spanish, even took the GRE to generate the feeling of growth.  And when I am growing, which I may define as experiencing something new, I am happy.

And it has been easy to be happy in Costa Rica.  Just as forewarning, since this is only serious post #2, I will advise you to check out Wikipedia if you're reading my blog looking for information about Ecuador, you'll find it a lot faster than muddling through my brain as it appears on paper.

Right, so I was talking about Costa Rica and fun.  August has been much more than I could have hoped for.  Most recently I've had an incredible birthday, visited the Caribbean and saw a dormant volcano.  But more about that in a moment...maybe I will just bold the chronological parts of my blog for those interested?  Anyway, I had been at home worrying about becoming a stalactite, and finding schools that I could enter into as soon as Ecuador was over, so that I could get back into the states and continue on with my plan to go into health.  But being here has shifted my perspective.  People abound all over.  I do not currently feel the need to run back to America asap.  My sister tells me that I have only been in Costa Rica and should not get ahead of myself, and I feel she is right.  I will apply to school in the states while I'm in Ecaudor, I may even apply to P.A. school just for kicks, but currently, I am content to rub shoulders with the locals, learn Spanish, and feel.  Feel things out.  Am I happy here? If so, why not stay here a little longer?  Besides, at this rate, I am going to have a better relationship with my parents and sister by living abroad than by living at home.  Skype dates force us to talk about something.  I've enjoyed that.  I hear more about them this way.

And finally, with that, to adventures in Costa Rica.  Remember those books, "My Life as ...."?  "My Life as Crocodile Junk Food" was the first one I ever owned.  Remember how he always wrote a story within a story, well if you, like me do, I hope you appreciate this:


When we last heard, well, I don't remember what I wrote, I forgot to look.  So August came around.  I can't say I had been waiting for August since Christmas, but if I new my birthday was going to be this great, I would have been longing for August starting December 26th.  But let me not get ahead of myself.  August began and I found myself observing my fellow teachers at Arandu, the school where our protagonists teach.  I needed to achieve 14 hours of observation/assisting in ESL classes as part of a requirement of World Teach to get a TEFL certification (Teaching English as a Foreign Language).  I meanwhile began teaching a few classes to the 7th graders at the school.  Only 1 a day; I didn't really want to stretch myself too much of course.  I really enjoyed teaching them.  They are very respectful kids and engage in their assignments when given to them.  There is no fighting, cursing, and minimal talking in class, which is wonderful for a teacher!  I played lots of 4 square, tried to get kids to talk to me in Spanish, which is surprising because I'm in Costa Rica, but it is an all English school.

Early in August Kristen and Brittany took their kids to a camp out in the jungle, which left Kyle and I and the 7th graders.  Time spent outside of school was filled with working out at the gym, which I haven't done on such a consistent basis since...well maybe never?  Kyle is great for that.  Kyle is also great for having someone to enjoy vegetables with and eat a lot with.  Kyle is also great for traveling with.  He is an awesome planner.  He makes reservations, finds cool things to do, takes me places, and is able to easily converse with Spanish speakers so that we can find places like Establo, which you'll hear about in a moment.

After the girls got back from camp, they had 2 friends of theirs come down to visit for a week or so.  Introducing Meghan and Alli, friend and sister.  With a now extended group, we started our week+ of traveling.  The first place went to as a group was a restaurant, which I think was called Tiquicera, though maybe, Mirador. Not important.  What was important was the view and the activities of that night.  At the aforementioned restaurant, we watched as a group of Costa Ricans came out to dance for us in a traditional manner.  They wore brightly colored skirts, then men brightly colored clothes that reminded me somewhat of Aladdin.  They even showed a little belly.  The traditional dancing was perhaps about 15 minutes long.  It was entertaining and fun...and then it was over and they began playing American Pop music, at which point, the group of 25 Canadians who also happened to be there, took over the stage.  We joined for a bit, but then soon left.  The other attraction was the view.  The restaurant overlooked the entire city of San Jose, because it was up on a hill.  We tried to find Kyle's and Brit and K's house, their school and other attractions, lit only by streetlights and city lights.  It was beautiful.  We went back to Kyle's place after, made Mojitos and played Nutzee (or Nertz).  It was fast paced and delightful.  It had been a long time since I have played with 6 people and I really enjoyed it.  

Next day we got on the bus for La Fortuna.  Took a 3 or so hour bus ride to check out a volcano called Arenal.  We had reservations for a 5 star hostel, but when we showed up, we got seduced by Julio.  I use that word intentionally.  As semi-tourists, we did get used, sorta.  Julio took us to a different hostel, told us how great it was, and then sold us a tour of the jungle and a volcano with some hot springs mixed in.  I was least interested in the hot springs at the time, but nonetheless, decided it seemed like a good idea, and so it appeared to the rest of us, and so after a brief spell at the hotel we packed it up and got ready to go with the tour guide.  After 15 minutes of waiting, having already paid Julio the money to go, we began to get worried that our Incubus was gone out of our life leaving us with nothing.  Alli, always the one to take matters into her own hands, suggested we hunt him down.  So she and I left and went to his hut near the bus station to give him a piece of...well of her mind I suppose, I didn't have words at the time.  Wasn't there.  It wasn't until we had gotten back to the hotel that we saw him and the van waiting for us.  So after a late start, with some mixed feelings we got into the van.  We had to pick another couple up, so we drove to a nearby hotel.  As we tried to start the van up again, it just clicked.  Something was wrong.  Clicked for awhile, until eventually, the driver and the passenger in front, a girthy man, got out and pushed us down hill right into a blind street corner, for a push start.  Thankfully no other buses happened to be passing through at that moment or we might not be here to tell the tale.  About 40 seconds later, as our driver tries to shift up a gear, I hear this grating noise, he shifts down, fine.  Shift up again, more grating.  He pulls over and frantically calls Julio, who isn't responding.  Alli starts telling me about Public Health which I am very interested in, since I had looked at MN's School of PH while back in WI.  It wasn't bad at all.  A small bruise at worst.  In the back seat though, the situation was becoming hot.  The dormant volcano was stirring.  The 4 others of our party were stuck in the back row of a tour van, it was hot back there.  Not to mention stuffy, wet and difficult to breathe.  They were feeling wretched and wanted to walk home, quit the tour and try again tomorrow.  I can't say Alli and I shared their point of view.  I think we stubborned them out.  We sat there for nearly 40 minutes waiting for a van, though I thought it was closer to 20, but then again, the mind does play its tricks subtly.  Kyle had his backpack on, the girls were turning to walk home and I was sure all was over, when the van finally showed up.  After a little convincing, Alli and I, in a guilty way, won out and we stayed on our tour.  We saw a toucan, a bunch of monkeys, interesting plants, got downpoured on in the jungle, saw a rainforest, saw the volcano at night, which was impressive, and then a really green frog, which doesn't sound as cool as it was, but then kyle tried to pet it, and got scolded, "It feels like burning 100%, when you do that" our guide said in his foreign accent.  That joke lasted awhile.  We finally made it to the hot springs, which were probably the most fun part of the trip. There was 25+ pools, all of different temperatures and temperaments, 3 awesome slides and a buffet.  Wish we could have stayed there longer, but it wasn't to be.

Next day we went on Sky Trek.  Which, by the price, I was at first a little put off by.  It was a stiff 70 dollars but turned out to be more than worth it.  I zip-lined over a deep canyon over looking a beautiful lake at dusk.  It was pretty.  Can't say it any better.  Do it someday.  



We arrived back at the hotel, and since we hadn't gone out the night before, for there was issues of tiredness and dirty sheets and bugs and all sorts of issues to get sorted out, we decided to go out.  Again, thanks to Kyle's searching he found a place still open after 11pm on a Sunday night. El Establo.  I walked in, laughed to myself.  There was slow slow Spanish Karaoke going on, with an empty dance floor.  Not exactly why we had come.  We had a drink.  We waited, then it hit.  The karaoke stopped and the salsa music started blaring and the place got hot, and hopping.  The dance floor filled up and we got crunk.  It was like Hughes Cotillion, but Spanish version.  Lots of people who didn't look like me doing things that I didn't know how to do.  Meghan was probably the first to start.  The rest of us watched a bit, unsure of what happens next.  Well, since I wasn't sure I could salsa, and since Meghan was doing theater on the dance floor, I thought I would have better luck with her.  What ensued was a 90 minute Youtube clip.  Meghan and I went from being penguins, to chefs, to Trinity and Neo and many other characters acting out our roles while the people around us either tried to avoid us or couldn't help but gawk, including our friends who probably did a little of each.  But it was fun and we got sweaty and in the end I did try to do something that looked like salsa.  We took the bus home the next day in the afternoon after a sweet game of Costa Rican soccer.

We spent the next day apart.  The teachers were at school, so the 3 visitors (me, Meghan and Alli) decided to go on a short hike.  Kyle tried to explain me what roads to take, but I got lost on the way, so we walked for a bit, hit a dead end, took pictures over the city, turned around and walked back down the hill down to Brittney and Kristen's place, which is right next to their school.  Had lunch, then went to school because the girls wanted to watch Brit teach.  At night we all got together for another amazing meal, drank wine, and discovered each other.

The next morning, bright and early, Brit and Alli, the sisters, woke up and left for Jaco, which is a beach on the Pacific.  A little while later I took a taxi down to meet up with Meghan and take a taxi to the bus station that took us to Puerto Viejo, which is a small town located on the Caribbean side of C.R.  Usually, Kyle buys tickets a day or 2 in advance.  Well, since Kyle wasn't going with us, we didn't yet have tickets.  But no matter, St. Anthony was listening.  We got to the station around 9:20, with the first bus leaving at 10.  The white couple in front of us bought a ticket for the 10am bus.  I stepped up, and in Spanish I might add, asked for 2 tickets.  "No mas."  hmm, did that couple just get the last ticket? Wow, we are that unlucky? Had I left 5 minutes earlier, and not listened to that one last Usher song, I might have just made it in time.  I bought the tickets for the 12:30.  At this point, some people might have given up, but we weren't the type to lose 2 1/2 hours of our vacation waiting at a bus stop.  Meghan and I hatched a plan, she let down her hair and we walked over to the bus.  There was a short man there.  Timid and quiet.  Not emphatic.  We showed him our tickets, he told me they were for the noon bus, at which point I looked over to Meghan, looked back to him and gave a pleading look and told him that we didn't need a seat, we could just stand in the aisle.  He was about to let us on, when a thicker man, with dark eyes, which shadowed his soul, came over and began firmly telling us it was not possible for us to get on the bus, (of which there was 12 empty seats).  Strange.  Well it just so happened that the white couple who bought there tickets in front of us were still standing outside the bus.  They weren't getting on either.  Turns out they have, Tiquetes de Pie.  Which translates roughly into: Standing room only.  Ahh, so we just needed standing tickets, guess the guy selling tickets didn't feel like trying to explain that to us.  So with Meghan, praying to her patron saint, I ran back off to the ticket counter, told him my amiga wanted to leave earlier, and if it was possible to get our tickets changed.  Black eyed man told us we would have to pay again, but her prayers were answered.  He exchanged them and we didn't even have to pay for new tickets.  Just printed out a new receipt and stamped them De Pie.  Perfect.  We got on the bus and we were off.  Turns out there was a group of 24 tickets bought, but only 12 of those travelers turned up, thus vacating 12 seats.  Meghan sat in one and almost threw up on the way.  She was looking sick and she felt hot the entire trip.  I thought she was sleeping...  I on the other hand sat next to a German lady, maybe 30, who I began interviewing.  She was a marine biologist studying mating habits of turtles.  We talked for about an hour, she gave me a couple of pointers of living in a new country and how ridiculous America is, and then I read my book the rest of the way.

We got to Puerto Viejo, lunch still intact, and set off to find Cafe Rica.  Lesli, a connection, had recently been to Puerto Viejo, and had made some suggestions for us.  We found the hostel, got ourselves a room and did some exploring.  We walked out to the beach, got dominated by the reef, bleeding and injuries within minutes of walking.  Ran back to our hostel, and Nurse Meghan healed us up.  I bought water shoes, she began looking for Christmas gifts (shocking I know), and we bought some sunscreen.  We sat and chatted for awhile about nursing and future careers, then had Indian food at our hostel.  Now, this post is already bloated, and at this point I have a choice to make, how much to tell about Meghan.  She regaled me with tales, from the crypt and otherwise, and I probably could spend another hour retelling them, if not for anyone else, then so that at least I will always have an account of them.  I think I can say it best by describing my impression.  After 2 or so hours of conversation, I became invested.  She was no longer an acquaintance.  Yet not quite a close friend.  Like Tom Hanks.  Someone you can just sympathize with.  Someone you hope for.  She let me into her life, told me why she was living, why she should be dead.  Why her family was living, why they shouldn't be, and most importantly what she was doing about it.  I felt like I had listened to This American Life.  From WBEZ Chicago...today on our show, young woman defies death and plans to heal the world.  I know, I know, you've heard that story already.  But here she was, sitting in front of me.  And I had no doubts. 

 Time passed.

There was a lot of Puerto Viejo yet to explore and it was getting late, at least for a Wednesday night.  We walked out down the beach, found a bar, that was just closing down, but ordered a drink anyway because we wanted to play some ping-pong.  He said that was fine, we could play for a few minutes while he closed up.  It would have been an awesome place had it been Friday night, filled with people, a view right out to the beach, lots of space, lots of games and great drinks.  We couldn't find much else happening that night, so we packed it in and went to bed.  

The next morning we tried to get up a little earlier, to go snorkling and bike riding at Punta Uva.  These activities were including in our hostel, which was why Leslie had recommended it to us.  So around 9:30, we set out, not quite my mom's definition of early, but we are pretty easy going about traveling when we want to be.  We had a nice bike ride, though a bit treacherous, and of course for Meghan, including a good bruise to the knee. We made it without serious incident, asked for someone other touristy looking people to watch our stuff while we swam around in the ocean for a few hours, which no sun screen could have protected our backs from.  The sun smiled on our backs but also illuminated the beautiful coral reef for us.  It was wonderful.  Lots of coral.  Lots of fish.  And those few small beautiful rarities that you just catch sight of a few times that make it all worth it.  Including the shark...  Meghan had an underwater disposable camera, the likes of which I hadn't seen since I was in 5th grade with her, and I'm expecting pictures sometime in October when I have somewhat of a permanent address in Ecuador.  I'll put up a picture or two then, so you'll have to wait, just like me.  I ran into some coral, got bloody (which attracted the shark we think), and made me scramble for shore like a trained triathlete.  We hung out on the beach for a few more hours, hammocked, slept, swam a bit, then headed back home.  Bought some xmas gifts for real this time, found some great live music, Jessi Check, check her out online if you like Regina/Norah/Adele-ish music.  She was great.  I think we were her biggest fans.  

We went back to our place, played bananagrams and applied aloe for the next 3 hours and then chatted til we fell asleep.

Friday we got up, got on our bus, drove back home.  This time without getting sick and sitting next to each other.  Talked some more, no idea about what.  We got back to the bus station, took a taxi home to Britt's Pub, and there waited for Kyle and Lesli to show up.  We met up and went out to Laly's to eat a late dinner.  It was fun and I got to hear about Leslie's trip to Tortuguero on the NE coast of C.R.  Wish I had the time to go, but probably won't make it.  Got served by the same waitress as last time, who served me my food late, 2x in a row now.  So in return, Meghan and Brit payed her about 3000 colones in change. And then dropped a few coins in mushroom sauce for added measure.  

Another early night, for tomorrow we were getting up early, and it was about to be my birthday.  On the 20th we woke up, got packed, and left to meet up with our van.  By this time Alli had gone home, felt she needed to be home a few days before college started.  So there was still 6, but switch Alli the sister with Lesli, the other US friend who teaches elsewhere in CR.  Our van picked us up around 6am.  Brutal, after only a few hours of sleep.  But we made it, and took a 3 hour ride to the river.  Stopped there fore breakfast, which consisted of rice and bean and an omelet maybe? I only remember the omelet actually.  We took another 20 minute ride to the river afterwards.  

To take this trip you're required to have previous whitewater rafting experience, to which we all just coyly nodded.  And then he began his explanation of safety procedures, and some of us turned a few shades paler.  Some grimaced.  "See our first rapid, it's a class 4+" and it's about 50 yards away.  Which means that we have about 10 seconds to figure out how to paddle as a group or we are going to tip into the whitewater dinning around us.  However, we successfully navigated it, and I'm sure our guide was quite relieved.  Or it would have been a long, long day for him.  None of us actually fell out at all, which was pretty impressive, for we went over rapids with names such as, El Horrible, indigestion, and Frankenstein.  They were absolutely huge!  We all screamed a bunch, got soaked, some may have wet their pants but didn't divulge that information to the group.  We paddled probably just shy of 2 hours, and most of us were exhausted an thankful it was over.  It was a lot of work, but it was thrilling.  I'll have pictures of this event within the month as well.  So that, was how my birthday started.  Down a sweet river!  We headed back home, Kyle and I bought some groceries, and we made dinner for the group.  A delicious salad, some butternut squash and chicken.  And then, the nice people I'm with, made me both cupcakes and a fruit pizza, decorated with a 25.  It was just great.  We then played more Nertz and more Bananagrams.  Then since Meghan's birthday is on the 25th, she also got to make some plans for what we did that night, so we us birthday-ers decided to go to Mas Tequila for mas Bailar-ing.  Our taxi driver drove us there at break-neck speed, we had a drink or two, then got to dancing.  Danced for an hour or more, had a lot of fun again, but then the place was shutting down, because it was running on 1:30am.  Sad.  I could have danced for another few hours. 

So we left.  Headed back home.  Stayed up talking. As 1x1 people went to sleep.  Megs and I made it til 5am, so I can proudly say I got a full 24 hours of birthday excitement. 

A wild river, great food, great friends, dancing, fruity drinks, raspberry-lemon, and my grip and heart tightening on the people here.  I will miss them when we separate.

We woke up, celebrated Meghan's birthday with a cupcake, went around the room and said what was special about her, and then Kyle and I went to his home, I talked with the fam, other friends, did some planning with Kyle and went to bed.