Since my last post, I left Las Cruces (thank god), lived in a homestay for two and a half weeks in San Jose, went on an incredible spring break adventure with my mother, and have now moved to a new, much more lively biological station in the northern lowland rainforest.
Since we left Las Cruces, this trip has done about a 180 and I am very glad I stuck it out for those miserable five weeks.
As anyone planning a trip to Costa Rica will discover, its capital, San Jose, is not a choice destination. Costa Rica's economy depends on eco-tourism, the type that snatches you up from the airport in a tour bus and shuttles you to the forest, the volcano, the beach, the white-water rapids -- anywhere but San Jose. So logically, most of the resources are spent fostering tourism - building hotels (excuse me, "eco-lodges"), installing zip lines (canopy tours) and generally plopping down identical "Adventure Tours" offices on every corner. In consequence, San Jose is deteriorating. Fast. Peeling paint, piling trash, cracking sidewalks, and lots of crime. I lived in a suburb near the University of Costa Rica, which felt relatively safe, although my homestay house did have a 30 foot wrought iron gate with barbed wire at the top...
My homestay was spectacular. I lived in a compound/complex/small gated village with the entire progeny of a teeny tiny woman named Nidia. Her five children each had their own houses, and the doors were always open with aunts, cousins, dogs, and friends constantly running in and out. Another girl in my program lived with Nidia, and I lived with Mayra, one of her daughters. Mayra has a gorgeous 19 year old daughter, Christina, and a really sweet 16 year old son, David. David looks like a little gangster, with his wifebeater tanktops and spinning dollar sign belt buckle, but he is a sweetheart. We talked the most, and tried to convince his mom to throw him a huge birthday bash, and he was really helpful with my Spanish. My sister was way too cool for me at first. She had a boyfriend and a social life and was probably just shy, but we got past that a little when we watched "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" ("¿Quien Quiere Ser Millonario?") every week and when I asked to borrow her hairdryer. And Mayra was your typical ama de casa, or housewife. There was not one conversation we had that did not involve ironing, doing the laundry, cleaning the house, or embroidering. She did beautiful embroidery though. Landscapes, folk art, flowers, abstract, you name it. And her mother was just as talented! She picked up a paintbrush at age 64, and now, 75 years old, her home is full of masterpieces, every one her own. I loved living there. I have an average-sized extended family, but we are spread as far across the United States as possible. To have everyone in the same city, the same block, the same compound... it seems like a lot of fun. It's also a lot of noise, a lot of drama, and a lot of gossip, but there was such a communal feeling - everyone helped each other out and everyone had a place. I liked it a lot.
I have a lot more to catch up on, but I'm running the risk of TLDRs, so I'll publish this and start again later. Photos later, too.
