Funny how life takes it's twists and turns and sometimes you end up right where you started from. I am standing outside the school in Manuel Antonio after my first day of spanish class, waiting for my "mother" to pick me up. I have my books, my homework assignment, and two backpacks full of everything I brought with me. It feels like I am in the first grade again with the excitement of the first day of class, and the anticipation of what life after school means, now that everything is different. Like a six year old, my "mother" will pick me up and I will do what she says. I have no control over my day, or any knowledge at all of what the afternoon will hold for me. I am completely at the mercy of my new Costa Rican family.
She greets me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Me llamo Bileida y mi esposo es Anibal." My name is Bileida and my husband is Anibal. That was as far as she could contain herself in slow, careful spanish. She proceeded to talk to me quickly in her native tongue the entire way down the hillside to her town of Quepos. I didn't understand much at all, but smiled and tried to look as though I did. I began to pick up bits and pieces as she gave me a tour of her small town. She showed me where the bus station was, the bank, and her best friend's gift store which I should patronize. Evidently those were the important things for me to know. As we left the lower part of the town she said, "Recorde el puente y el muro verde." She was pointing, so I used my brilliant mind and deduced that she meant, "remember the bridge and the big green wall."
At home, she showed me where the bathroom was, led me upstairs to my tiny bedroom with a slatted door that almost closed, and then gave me a set of keys to the house. I dropped my bags and she beckoned me back downstairs. She asked if I would like some food. She proudly communicated that she had red meat from her daughter's birthday party the night before. It was delicious! As I began to eat, her husband came home, said hola and sat down at the table to eat as well. I jumped up and went upstairs to get my gift for them as is customary when you stay with a family. I presented them with chocolates from America. They grinned, thanked me and she immediately took them to put them in the freezer. She was nodding as if to ask if that was ok, and what I wanted to say was, "No! Don't put chocolate in the freezer! I used to own a bakery. It breaks down the chocolate, separates it, and it turns white. I've carried these chocolates, protected in my bag for 4 weeks now through three countries to bring them to you. No, don't put them in the freezer!" But I said the only thing I knew to say. "Si." Her husband left without a word and I went upstairs to get my homework. I worked at the kitchen table and watched as a steady stream of people came in and out of the house for various reasons. There was much hugging and kissing and laughter. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, but it was beautiful to watch.
The owner of the school teaches yoga at a spa, and I told my mother that I planned to take his class at 5:00 and would be back at 7:30. I had been traveling for three days, hauling bags, and yoga would be the perfect cure for travel stress. I had planned to walk, but she said no, that she would call me a taxi. The driver was Danilo (someone's brother), and he would know where to go. When we arrived at the spa, he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down his phone number for me to call him when I was done. The class was held in a beautiful room that had walls made completely of mango wood with huge opened doors which faced the jungle. The sounds of the rain forest were fascinating and it was almost enough to help me forget how incredibly hot it was.
At the end of yoga I went out to the spa to borrow a phone. The spa was closed. It was dark outside and raining. Darn, I forgot that the sun goes down here at 6:00pm every single night of the year. What should I do? I walked down the driveway towards the street and fortunately there was a guard house. They let me borrow a phone and I called Danilo. I said, "Lucetta, Raindrop Spa." He said, "Bueno." A few minutes later a taxi arrives, but it is not Danilo. I jump in the back and the driver says, "Donde?" Where? Um, uh... oh shit! I don't know where! (pardon the language, but as my dad says, sometimes no other word will do) Shit. Um... "Quepos." I desperately search for information in my brain. What area did they live in? What were their names? Where was their street? Did I have any information in my tiny purse? No, I was only going to yoga and back. As we drove toward Quepos I peered through the dark looking for something I recognized. I shrugged and said, "I don't know." My driver just looked at me and then began to laugh a deep belly laugh. I sat back and began to giggle with him. It is ridiculous to be a grown adult and not even know where you are going. I suddenly remembered about the bridge. I didn't even know the words for right or left, or turn around, but i saw a bridge and pointed in that direction. We went across it and drove down several streets, but nothing looked familiar. I motioned for him to turn around after a while and as we crossed back over the bridge I started pointing furiously at the bridge itself. He laughed again, nodded, and said, "bueno". He took me to another part of town with a bridge. It was MY bridge, and there was the big green wall! I was home.
The house was completely dark, and empty. I was actually relieved because I needed a few minutes to regroup and I really, really wanted to take a shower. I used my three keys to get into fort knox, locking everything behind me. I went upstairs and grabbed the things I needed for my shower. I hadn't washed my hair in days and I had been sweating since I landed. The bathroom opened to the living room, and I hit the light switch right outside the door. Nothing happened. Maybe the light was inside? The bathroom was completely tiled in black tile, so it was pitch dark in there. I felt all around the usual places you'd find a light switch, but nothing. Aha! My headlamp. Earlier in the spring I'd had coffee with my friend Shelly, who lived in Africa for two years. She said to buy a headlamp and keep it with me at all times because it would become my best friend. I went up the steep little staircase and found my new compadre. Back in the bathroom I went over every inch of every wall. No light switch! Damn it, I am taking a shower! Another cuss word. This is clearly turning into an entire evening when no other word will do. I set the headlamp on the edge of the shower pointing upwards. I feel for the faucets and turn them on high. I'm waiting and waiting for it to warm up when the truth of the situation dawns on me. No hot water.
I'm drying off after the fastest shower possible given that I really did need to scrub, when I hear someone out in the living room. I knew I had locked the doors behind me so it must be someone with a key. I gather my belongings and open the door to find a man lounging on the couch with a beer watching the television. He looked at the bathroom, then at me and scanned down to my headlamp. He looked concerned. "Problema con la luz?" Problem with the light? I just shrugged as if to say I didn't know. He jumped up, hit the top of the right corner, outside of the back of the door jam and the light came on. He started laughing out loud! I looked up and sure enough, in the most awkward, indiscernible place there was a small white button. We were both laughing at that point and I asked him his name. "Me llamo Anibal." This was my father! Her husband. So who in the world did I have lunch with, and to whom did I present my chocolates that were at that very moment deteriorating in the refrigerator??
I went upstairs, unpacked my bags and settled into my new room. I was famished but my mother had somehow gotten the impression that I was going to dinner with the yoga people. I didn't want her to have to make my dinner at that late hour, so I just told her I wasn't hungry. Around 10:00pm I finally finished my homework and was about to peel off my clothes and dive into bed when I heard the sounds of young children through my window. Who would have children up at this hour? I heard tiny footsteps coming up the stairs and realized those children were in my house. Four little eyes peered between the slats of my door (whew, good thing I was still dressed) and my mom waved for me to come downstairs. It was her grandchildren who had come over to meet the new student. Downstairs were about eight other relatives as well, laughing and talking. I just smiled and played with the kids, trying to keep from nodding off. Finally, the families waved goodbye and I thought I would be able to gracefully make my break, but my mother jumped up and began frantically moving furniture on the front terrace. She seemed to be moving it all inside the house. Of course I got up to help, and just in time, because the iron gate began to open and a car pulled in. Right onto the front terrace! We all worked our way around the car and squeezed through the front door of the house. It was the 22 year old daughter, Milena and her fiance. Milena was in nursing school at night and had just finished a very important exam. By then it was 11:30, so after introductions I said,"Buenos noches" and bolted upstairs before anyone else could come over. I dove onto my bed completely clothed, and could not move. I heard more laughter from downstairs and then the banging of pots. Soon the most delicious aroma made it's way up to my room, and my stomach began to grumble. My mother was cooking for Milena!
At home, she showed me where the bathroom was, led me upstairs to my tiny bedroom with a slatted door that almost closed, and then gave me a set of keys to the house. I dropped my bags and she beckoned me back downstairs. She asked if I would like some food. She proudly communicated that she had red meat from her daughter's birthday party the night before. It was delicious! As I began to eat, her husband came home, said hola and sat down at the table to eat as well. I jumped up and went upstairs to get my gift for them as is customary when you stay with a family. I presented them with chocolates from America. They grinned, thanked me and she immediately took them to put them in the freezer. She was nodding as if to ask if that was ok, and what I wanted to say was, "No! Don't put chocolate in the freezer! I used to own a bakery. It breaks down the chocolate, separates it, and it turns white. I've carried these chocolates, protected in my bag for 4 weeks now through three countries to bring them to you. No, don't put them in the freezer!" But I said the only thing I knew to say. "Si." Her husband left without a word and I went upstairs to get my homework. I worked at the kitchen table and watched as a steady stream of people came in and out of the house for various reasons. There was much hugging and kissing and laughter. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, but it was beautiful to watch.
The owner of the school teaches yoga at a spa, and I told my mother that I planned to take his class at 5:00 and would be back at 7:30. I had been traveling for three days, hauling bags, and yoga would be the perfect cure for travel stress. I had planned to walk, but she said no, that she would call me a taxi. The driver was Danilo (someone's brother), and he would know where to go. When we arrived at the spa, he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down his phone number for me to call him when I was done. The class was held in a beautiful room that had walls made completely of mango wood with huge opened doors which faced the jungle. The sounds of the rain forest were fascinating and it was almost enough to help me forget how incredibly hot it was.
At the end of yoga I went out to the spa to borrow a phone. The spa was closed. It was dark outside and raining. Darn, I forgot that the sun goes down here at 6:00pm every single night of the year. What should I do? I walked down the driveway towards the street and fortunately there was a guard house. They let me borrow a phone and I called Danilo. I said, "Lucetta, Raindrop Spa." He said, "Bueno." A few minutes later a taxi arrives, but it is not Danilo. I jump in the back and the driver says, "Donde?" Where? Um, uh... oh shit! I don't know where! (pardon the language, but as my dad says, sometimes no other word will do) Shit. Um... "Quepos." I desperately search for information in my brain. What area did they live in? What were their names? Where was their street? Did I have any information in my tiny purse? No, I was only going to yoga and back. As we drove toward Quepos I peered through the dark looking for something I recognized. I shrugged and said, "I don't know." My driver just looked at me and then began to laugh a deep belly laugh. I sat back and began to giggle with him. It is ridiculous to be a grown adult and not even know where you are going. I suddenly remembered about the bridge. I didn't even know the words for right or left, or turn around, but i saw a bridge and pointed in that direction. We went across it and drove down several streets, but nothing looked familiar. I motioned for him to turn around after a while and as we crossed back over the bridge I started pointing furiously at the bridge itself. He laughed again, nodded, and said, "bueno". He took me to another part of town with a bridge. It was MY bridge, and there was the big green wall! I was home.
The house was completely dark, and empty. I was actually relieved because I needed a few minutes to regroup and I really, really wanted to take a shower. I used my three keys to get into fort knox, locking everything behind me. I went upstairs and grabbed the things I needed for my shower. I hadn't washed my hair in days and I had been sweating since I landed. The bathroom opened to the living room, and I hit the light switch right outside the door. Nothing happened. Maybe the light was inside? The bathroom was completely tiled in black tile, so it was pitch dark in there. I felt all around the usual places you'd find a light switch, but nothing. Aha! My headlamp. Earlier in the spring I'd had coffee with my friend Shelly, who lived in Africa for two years. She said to buy a headlamp and keep it with me at all times because it would become my best friend. I went up the steep little staircase and found my new compadre. Back in the bathroom I went over every inch of every wall. No light switch! Damn it, I am taking a shower! Another cuss word. This is clearly turning into an entire evening when no other word will do. I set the headlamp on the edge of the shower pointing upwards. I feel for the faucets and turn them on high. I'm waiting and waiting for it to warm up when the truth of the situation dawns on me. No hot water.
I'm drying off after the fastest shower possible given that I really did need to scrub, when I hear someone out in the living room. I knew I had locked the doors behind me so it must be someone with a key. I gather my belongings and open the door to find a man lounging on the couch with a beer watching the television. He looked at the bathroom, then at me and scanned down to my headlamp. He looked concerned. "Problema con la luz?" Problem with the light? I just shrugged as if to say I didn't know. He jumped up, hit the top of the right corner, outside of the back of the door jam and the light came on. He started laughing out loud! I looked up and sure enough, in the most awkward, indiscernible place there was a small white button. We were both laughing at that point and I asked him his name. "Me llamo Anibal." This was my father! Her husband. So who in the world did I have lunch with, and to whom did I present my chocolates that were at that very moment deteriorating in the refrigerator??
I went upstairs, unpacked my bags and settled into my new room. I was famished but my mother had somehow gotten the impression that I was going to dinner with the yoga people. I didn't want her to have to make my dinner at that late hour, so I just told her I wasn't hungry. Around 10:00pm I finally finished my homework and was about to peel off my clothes and dive into bed when I heard the sounds of young children through my window. Who would have children up at this hour? I heard tiny footsteps coming up the stairs and realized those children were in my house. Four little eyes peered between the slats of my door (whew, good thing I was still dressed) and my mom waved for me to come downstairs. It was her grandchildren who had come over to meet the new student. Downstairs were about eight other relatives as well, laughing and talking. I just smiled and played with the kids, trying to keep from nodding off. Finally, the families waved goodbye and I thought I would be able to gracefully make my break, but my mother jumped up and began frantically moving furniture on the front terrace. She seemed to be moving it all inside the house. Of course I got up to help, and just in time, because the iron gate began to open and a car pulled in. Right onto the front terrace! We all worked our way around the car and squeezed through the front door of the house. It was the 22 year old daughter, Milena and her fiance. Milena was in nursing school at night and had just finished a very important exam. By then it was 11:30, so after introductions I said,"Buenos noches" and bolted upstairs before anyone else could come over. I dove onto my bed completely clothed, and could not move. I heard more laughter from downstairs and then the banging of pots. Soon the most delicious aroma made it's way up to my room, and my stomach began to grumble. My mother was cooking for Milena!
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| My street |
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| My house |
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| My bedroom |
First of all, I don't know what youa re talking about..you are an incredible writer. Beautiful story and descriptions and it makes it seem like you are not so far away! Thank you for sharing this with us, I can live vicariously through you and I know there is so much joy in this experience. Keep writing and sharing. Love you,Marta
ReplyDeleteLucetta! I don't know what's better ... reading this wonderfully written blog or just knowing that you are ok! Keep the posts coming. Miss you so much! XOXO
ReplyDeleteLove it! I had my own "cold" shower experience. After about 2 weeks of painfully cold showers, my family showed me wires above the showerhead that you had to put together to make the water hot. Unfortunately, I don't think I ever did that 1) because I was too short, and 2) because I was afraid of being electrocuted!!!
ReplyDeleteHave fun and make sure to learn about "Tico Time". :) I learned after about a month there, that I was offending people and had no idea :) -Kathy Johnson
Enjoying your blog. Starting at the beginning. :) Your experience reminds me of an experience I had in High School when I went to Germany for the summer and lived with a family and followed a No English rule religiously for the entire summer . Quite the experience after only 2 years of H.S. German. (later became a H.S. German teacher based in large part from that experience).
ReplyDeleteWill be looking forward to reading more in your blog. (I met you the other day at AAA - in fact, filled out your IDP form for you). :)
Mark