I made it!!

OK guys this is my first try at a journal and I’m pretty nervous about putting all of this down for the world to read. Plus my grammar is sub-par so maybe I should have thought about perfecting the English language rather than learning a new one. Anyway this journal or “blog” (I hate that word) is an attempt to keep everyone informed about what’s going on down here and hopefully provide a record of my visit that I can refer to when I’m old & gray.

I guess I’ll take it from the top.

After a difficult goodbye I arrived at my seat on the plane. There I found a non- English speaking Costa Rican buckling into my seat. This wasn’t that big of a problem but I had reserved the aisle seat specifically because my back hurts like hell when I sit for long periods. On a flight it’s nice to be able to let my leg rest in the aisle. Trying to explain was getting me nowhere; I took the window seat. I won’t mention the part where the elder Costa Rican coughed during the in flight meal, spraying my face with chicken and rice. With exception to the descent, the flight is terrible.

During the flight our plane passed over Cuba which looked like an amazing island. The south coast had azure blue water that extended for what looked like 50 miles. We definitely have to get that embargo lifted so we can visit. Who is GWB to tell me where I can and cannot go??? I thought this was a free country anyway. A short jaunt across the Gulf of Mexico and we were over Central America. My first glimpse of Costa Rica came during the descent to the landing strip. Volcanic mountains appear to be covered with green velvet. Coffee plantations were everywhere. From the air Costa Rica looks like my kind of place, I can see both the Pacific and Caribbean coasts. I wonder if there’s a turkey season??

I grab my checked baggage and a scary little Tico with a trophy mullet helps me find the CPI driver. I wait around for a moment for the other students who have arrived. Bo & Sharon Dawkins from N.C., Julia and Kristina from CA and I make our way with Fernando (the driver) to our new homes. Damn it! Costa Ricans can’t drive.. It’s probably not as bad as Rome but let’s not split hairs here. I am the first to get dropped off. I meet Gina and Kenneth Viquez, my new parents while in San Joaquin de Flores. I am greeted with warm smiles and tons of Spanish. What the hell are they saying?? Ok, not what I expected.. they speak as much English as I do Spanish. Despite the lack of understanding I find that substantive communication can be accomplished with a simple smile and shake of the head. I feel accepted.

The home is modest and tidy.. very tidy, three bedrooms and two baths. There is a small back yard. Their home as well as all the others are like compounds. They have large barred gates around the home, some with razor wire around the top. All have burglar bars on the windows and doors. This is a bit disconcerting but I shrug it off. The refrigerator is in the laundry room and there is no dryer. The floor is covered in 12’ tiles that are very shiny. The Nativity is still up as well as the Christmas tree and the other Christmas decorations. Wait a minute! Is this my Mom’s house?? I meet the daughters Melanie (10), and Stephanie (18). Gina somehow helps me understand that they are Catholic and will be attending Church @ 4. I had read of the tradition here in Costa Rica and was pleased to find that my family participated.

At Church I meet Gina’s mother, aunt, sister, & niece as well as Kenneth’s mother and father. Even though the ritual is the same everywhere I have a difficult time following the order of the mass.. It’s ok though because its home. In the Church it’s standing room only. Stray dogs wander in and out of the back door. Incense mixed with cologne and perfume waft around. Little boys can tell I’m a foreigner and not completely comfortable. They point and giggle and somehow I’m totally cool with it. They church is beautiful. It is constructed of large blocks of volcanic rock. The outside is the color of the rock, a dreary charcoal gray. Inside Gina tells me that the ceiling murals were painted by an Italian and it shows as the characters are very Romanesque.
The Church is the center of life in the community. In front there is a large soccer field. So far I have learned the staples here: Church, rice, beans, and soccer. In the soccer field fathers are playing soccer with their sons. Adolescent boys and girls walk around attached at the hip. Senior citizens sit on benches and have lively conversation. People who are very dirty and appear to be drunk sell homemade ice cream to long lines of Ticos. I’ve been here for 2 and ½ hours and I’m sold.
After church we go to Gina’s mother’s house for coffee. Gina’s mother, aunt, husband and daughters are all there. They try like hell to communicate with me and figure out that it’s nearly impossible. They chat.. Look at me.. and laugh. Its ok; I think they like me. Or else they think I’m an imbecile. (After reading this you may think I am too.) They learn that the weather in Alabama is warm for the most part, wet in the winter and that its been unseasonably warm thus far this year. They definitely like me. I get hugs from my new Grandma and Great Aunt when we leave.

Back at the house I show the family pictures of home to hopefully let them know more about me. They see pictures of family, friends, Anna, the camp house, me with turkeys I killed, me wakeboarding & Jasper of course. We look at pictures until 11pm and I am whipped. I get in bed and can’t sleep, not because the neighbors appear to run a disco, I guess its nervous energy.

My first day of school was intense. I arrived (late) and took a placement test. On the test I was able to answer 5 of approximately 30 questions. My oral exam was no better. This lands me in class with Steve from Australia. Our professora Karla has got her hands full with us. The 4 hours of class go by in what seems like 10 minutes. I make some advances.. baby steps.. Good thing I’m here for 9 weeks.

After class we take a walking tour of Heredia, the larger San Jose suburb that is four miles west of the school. We take the bus to town. The fare is 125 colones which I will guess exchanges to around a nickel. We arrive and the pace is overwhelming. The sidewalks are overflowing with people. The shops appear to be constructed entirely of sheet metal. Unpleasant smells strike the nose once in a while. We walk to the central market which I believe we were told is about 100 years old and operates in its original building which must be about 5 acres in size. It’s no place I would shop for meat.. yet meat is everywhere. Sausages hang in all the counter windows. Fruits and vegetables are everywhere. Women make tamales and wrap them in banana leaves. There are many sweets made from raw sugar. Little kids suck on bags of what appears to be a condensed sugar paste. In the center the sewer is being repaired. These people have not ceased to make me smile since I arrived.

From the market we go to the Church of the Immaculate Conception. The Church dates to the late 1700’s and is rather large and white. I think it’s constructed in the Greek style with two domes on each side of the front of the Church. The bells in the dome were brought from Peru. Inside is muy bonito with a marble checkerboard floor and a life sized Nativity. So far this is the first church I have seen here without a soccer field in front. The plaza that is in the front is extremely beautiful. In the center there is a large fountain. The wind blows a fine spray from the fountain around the plaza; one gets the feeling he is being spit on. The plaza is shaded by mango trees and there is one tree that appears to be coniferous but I can’t really tell. The tree is magnificent though and must stand about 90 to 100 feet tall. It has long, droopy branches without so much as a twig until the end is reached where you find a pom pom of needles. It’s really cool; I just realized what Gulliver must have felt like. (I’ll be coming home if I run into any talking horses though.) Across the street from the Church is the old fort. It is very small and a military disaster. It has windows that are somewhat conical in shape. The cones face outward so that any bullets that are fired in them are certain to ricochet into the fort. As my travel guide explains, this is one example of the innocence of Costa Rica. Maybe I’m just a militaristic American but it was the first thing I noticed. I suppose it’s because I’ve seen a real fort. I am reminded of the line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail “On second thought let’s not go to Camelot, it is a silly place!” The Heredia Cultural Center is also across from the Church. It was once the home of a very important President in Costa Rican history. I forgot his name. The “cultural center” has two original pieces of the president’s furniture, but actually serves as a gallery for a local painter. I feel like I may sound negative and I hope not because Heredia is amazing.. at once its fragrant yet smelly, bustling but laid back, dirty yet polished.. Contradictions like this only make a place more interesting and perhaps being from Alabama helps in Costa Rica. I can’t wait to return to Heredia with the camera.

I return home armed with all of the new things I learned that day. My communication with the family progresses as I can speak and understand a little more Spanish. Have I mentioned that the only time that I speak in English is during the twenty minutes we have during the break at 10am, the five minutes that I see students after school and the 15 minutes that I talk to Anna at night. Thankfully I am a quiet person by nature otherwise I may go crazy. It is hard to be down here alone. Anyway I have thoroughly impressed Gina and Melanie with my music collection and computer. Gina is an aficionado of eighties music and loves to listen to the “I Want My 80’s” box collection. Melanie plays games and jams to Black Eyed Peas “My Humps” for hours while I study, she also is quite fond of “Drive My Car” by The Beatles. I study in my room only to be interrupted by a “Maaaarshal” from little Melanie. She gets stuck from time to time trying to navigate Microsoft Windows. Helping her provides occasion to learn more Spanish, and I suppose that is why I’m here. Right now I miss Monroeville, Natchez, Stony Lonesome, Auburn, family, friends, my girlfriend and all that space we have in Alabama. I’ll see them all very soon I suppose. Check back later for pictures and feel free to email me marshall.black@gmail.com I’d love to hear from whoever is listening. Peace be with you all.
~Marshall