New Family: in greater detail

My host family is so wonderful! My host mom is named Isabel, and she's an artist. The house is full of un-hung paintings and prepared canvases, and art supplies. It looks as though she does everything she can: she works with oils, I've seen a few watercolor, sculptures and even mosaics. Right now, she is making a purse out of burlap sacks for her granddaughter Raquel.
My host father is very quiet, but very welcoming too. I want to get to know him better, but I always feel shy around him.
The couple has two granddaughters staying with them right now. Camila is about 8, and I think Raquel is about 14. They are very nice to me, and talk to me. The couple's eldest sons come to the house every day to spend time with the family. I've been able to speak to both of them fairly well--once again, I am astounded at how well I can speak, understand, and be understood...

Isabel always asks me if I'm hungry, and gives me food to eat all the time. She jokes that she's going to make me fat with all the rice and beans, and the bread.

There are several staples in the Costa Rican diet: one is a form of rice and beans that is called gallopinto (gah-yo peehn-tow). It generally has onions and garlic that are sauteéd in a pan before adding black beans. The Ticos (Costa Ricans) use a special sauce called by its brand name, Lizano for nearly every type of seasoning. I keep sneezing whenever I smell it. It isn't spicy, it just makes me sneeze.
Another staple is eggs or meat. We eat a little meat with every meal, and have delicious bread all the time. For breakfast, I have eaten gallopinto, some tea, and bread. For lunch (lately, anyway. It will probably change when I start classes), I have sandwiches, and a little bit of fruit. The family I am with does not generally eat dinner, as they have a bigger midday meal. I'm trying to wean myself to fit into their lifestyle.

I love the city! There's so much to do!
I'll write more later!

¡Hasta luego, y que tengan buena noche!

The Trip: in more detail

Hello again!! I told you I would write soon!!

All right, so starting from the beginning of my story: I left from South Bend Regional Airport on 13 Jan really early. It was snowing out, and there were huge drifts and piles of snow all over the place. I made it through the scary security, and sat down to wait. I kept to myself and watched the other passengers. It was probably self-conciousness, but I felt as if the older business people were watching me too. I know I look rather young for my age, but it made me uncomfortable. A huge thanks goes out to my dad at this time for helping me keep my sanity in those last few moments before the trip. Dad, I love you.

I got on the smallest plane I've ever been on in my life, and sat back in my seat to take a picture of the snow outside the window. During the flight to my connection in Atlanta, I was able to get well acquainted with my seat-mate, a businessman to some sort of a conference in Atlanta. We spoke of everything from politics, to schools, to religion and theology. He was very fascinating to talk to because he had many observation and questions. I tried my hardest not to talk all the time, but I'm afraid I probably said the most... When we arrived in Atlanta, GA, I felt it was prudent to first find my gate and then see about using the restroom, etc., but the Atlanta International Airport is the biggest place I've ever seen in my life. Ever. Thankfully, there were so many signs that I had little trouble finding the next gate (though a very long walk), and sat down to read while waiting for my flight. I kept checking the time periodically so I wouldn't miss my flight, but all at once, I looked up and realized that my flight should have left 5 minutes earlier. What's more, I was one of only two people waiting at the gate. I jumped up and asked the lady behind me what flight she was waiting for. Hers was another flight, and I showed her my ticket and asked if I was in the right gate. She told me that maybe my flight had been canceled. I started to panic. The lady suggested I tackle one of the many attendants, but when I looked up to do as she had suggested, there was not a one in sight. Sigh. So, needless to say, I found someone at a desk, handed her my ticket and asked where I was supposed to go. What did she say? ¨Oh, your flight should have left by now,¨ she said, ¨but wait, I can look it up for you.¨ Thankfully, my flight was only delayed, but I had to run to make it to the next gate. The attendant wrote down the number of the gate on my ticket, I thanked her and left really quickly. AIA has ¨ground transport¨ which consists of several trains that run the length of the concourses, making stops at each. It's faster than walking, and so I was advised to take the train. I got on one, but didn't realize it went through each stop, and jumped off before the doors closed. Another attendant saw me and assured me I would make it to Concourse A (I was in Concourse E, naturally). So, I took the next train. The ride made me feel slightly sick watching the walls pass in a blur, so I closed my eyes and held my bag tightly. I made it to the gate with 10 minutes to spare. I was pretty proud of myself.

I finally boarded the jet bound for my destination of Miami, FL, and found that I was the only passenger in my row of three seats. Not that I particularly wanted to sit in the window seat, or in the middle seat, but I made do with the aisle. I read my book, and suffered from motion sickness as a result. When I finally made it to Miami, I wanted to jump for joy, but my stomach wouldn't have allowed that. I had to go and find my luggage, and then I panicked again because I didn't know if my luggage had followed me on the same plane or been delivered ahead of me. Also, the MIA is about as large as the AIA, so I had to first find the luggage area before I would know anyway. Unfortunately, the MIA was having construction done on the lower level (the luggage claim area) and I could not find the name of my plane or my departure city on any of the LCD signs. Once again, I started to panic. I tackled a friendly-looking police officer because I looked appropriately confused and he took me to an electronic board that listed the plane and the luggage area where the passengers could find their belongings. Another gentleman from my plane was also looking for his, so I kept up with him when he went to find the luggage. We found our stuff, and then I went back upstairs to now search for the group of other LASP students, identifiable to me only by the bright orange luggage tags we were asked to wear on our things. We were supposed to meet at the American Airlines counter, but I walked up and down (what I thought) was the length of the counters, pausing to ask many bored-looking attendants in English (I'm not sure why I never thought to use Spanish, it didn't occur to me), until finally, after 20 minutes, I was told by another attendant that I had not walked far enough in one direction. As the original path I had been walking was a good, long distance, I wasn't surprised that there was a longer distance I hadn't yet covered. So I walked that way, and looked at everybody's luggage tags (people probably thought I was looking to steal something unattended), and finally got to the AA counter. I walked around it twice before a girl my age came up to me and said, ¨Hi, are you going to Costa Rica with LASP?¨ Finally!! I was saved!!! I said yes, and sat down with a group of students about my age who said they were 'on the look-out' for younger individuals with confused expressions.

This post is long enough. I will write another detailing my 'new' family!

¡Bienvenidos a Costa Rica!

I just wrote down a lot of stuff, but the computer deleted it.

My family is so nice! The doña always cooks, and keeps persuading me to eat. I spend much time in the kitchen talking with her because she shows me what she cooks. Yesterday, I helped make some gallopinto, which is rice and black beans mixed together. Doña Isabel sauteés onions, peppers and garlic for the gallopinto. It seems to be a common staple of the country.

Today, our group was split into smaller groups of three people and we were given a map and a list of things to do, and told to meet with them all over the capital at certain times. My group has yet to figure out how to take a bus to the LASP headquarters. We.re about to leave, but since the computer deleted my stuff, I.m trying to make up for it.

I have my own room with my host family, and they have their two granddaughters living with them right now.

They tell me that my accent is definitely not American, but a mixture, it seems between Dominican and Mexican: I drop my .s. at the end of words, but I have a Mexican lilt! Weird.

I know much more Spanish than I thought, and am able to express my ideas fairly well. It.s hard to write this in English because I have been trying to think in Spanish for the last 48 hours!!!

I will write more later!!
¡Que tengan un buen día!

The Last American Post (for a while)

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading! I don't know if I have many readers or few, but if you're reading this, I'm thinking of you.

I'm certainly going to take a nap again as soon as I finish, but I wanted to write a little more. To my friends, I will miss you. To my family, I'll miss you more. I feel an odd calm right now, almost as if I'm protected by some invisible shield.

I just wanted to mention that, abroad, my posts will probably be much shorter. I don't know when or if I will find computers that work quickly, and as I write very much in one sitting, I don't want to be forced to rewrite in the event of a timeout... I will take many pictures, though, and hopefully will be able to link them to my posts.

Hmm, I've just written a bunch of nothing. I hate it when I do that. Oh well.

Have a safe week, and enjoy the time you have!

Going solo

Here I am again, writing to you when I really should be packing...

I want to buy a small copy of the American Constitution so I have my Rights on hand, although why I would need them desperately, I'm not sure...I feel it is best to be prepared. I actually made two separate lists for packing: one lists everything I want to take with me, and the other lists where I'm going to pack it. Maybe I'm micro-managing. Probably. Sigh.

I've had the same recurring image in my dreams for the last three days. It happens differently every time, but the gist is the same: I'm almost ready to go, but I walk into my room at home, and it's all filled with boxes and crates. There's a pile to left that goes in my suitcase, and the pile to the right that goes in my carry-on, but nothing fits. I'm such a light packer, that it frustrates me--I'm only trying to take the essentials, but I seem to need everything in the piles, and I can't narrow it down at all...Then the dream will change into something else before going back to the theme. From my humbly unprofessional deduction of dreams, I would hazard a guess that I'm really stressed about this. Really.

Of course, I technically know me better than others, but if that's true, then as an individual who hides unhappy emotions, it follows that I hide my stress not only from others, but from me. Was that a run-on sentence, or what? So sorry. I took higher English classes than the language I appear to be using...

Well, I guess I'm writing now out of pure nerves: I'm absolutely terrified of crossing the country on my own. I don't think my family (and others) actually understand or appreciate this. It doesn't placate me to say that I'll be fine; it doesn't reassure me to tell me how others have made it through the checkpoints. It is others who have made it, not I. I just have to do it. Perhaps it's better to let me blow things out of proportion. There are two very good reasons to do this:

One, I will be very observant of my surroundings and pay very close attention to details. This will help if, God forbid, I am abducted, etc. It will also help because I will give authorities no reason to put me into custody (not that I think they would anyway, I'm just making sure).

Two, if and when my fears prove superfluous I will be very pleasantly surprised. That's a good thing.

Just a thought: I think I want to revise a post I published earlier this month, the one where I think I'm nervous because I am leaving my net of security behind me. I agree to a point (can a person disagree with himself?): I follow rules very meticulously. However, I don't know the best list of things to do, or things not to do. In short, I have no boundaries for this trip in which I can comfortably operate. That's why my security is staying in my hometown: I don't know how to operate outside of it. It is not in my repertoire to travel great distances by myself, therefore, I have no set rules to keep me safe (excluding, of course, common sense), or to tell me how to act or what to say, or even when to say it. I'm going solo.

I leave Tuesday from the airport at 5:50 a.m.

Have a wonderful day, and keep safe!

Closing in

It's coming ever closer. I keep feeling nervous, but so excited!! I hope these ridiculous conflicts of emotions will finally calm down once I board the plane. But, with my luck, they probably won't.

Speaking of, I'm faced with yet another interesting conundrum (if you don't know that word, Dear Reader, you might as well look it up now because I will probably use it frequently in the coming days/weeks/etc...): I get motion sickness. I am well aware that the pharmaceutical market has invented all these "cures" for motion sickness, but I also react poorly to the side-effects caused by pills and such. So, pills and tablets are out. But here's the thing: I also have a fear of heights. And, I have occasional claustrophobia--How on Earth will I handle the plane ride?? Consider: I cannot sit next to the window because I will fear the height, I cannot sit on the aisle seat because I won't be able to look out a window to connect my sense of gravity and speed (which, oddly enough, helps me NOT be sick), and I cannot sit between the two seats because I will feel claustrophobic. I would sleep, but I'd be terrified that someone would steal my purse...

Sigh.

It figures.

Guess I'll sleep. Maybe those barf bags can be used to calm someone who hyperventilates. I could always tie my shoes to my wrist like they did in the Great Depression. Hmm... maybe that's overreacting a bit.

I'll probably be fine. Yeah, that's it. I'll be fine.

Wow, now I'm writing to reassure myself.

Have you noticed, Dear Reader, that as I continue posting this week, my posts have gotten steadily more flustered? It kind of makes me laugh: I used to not write at all, and now I can't go more than a couple days without imparting my thoughts on the subject...

I think I'll spend some last minute time with my mom. I know how sorry she is that she hasn't been able to spend lots of time with me, and I'm really going to miss her. I wish everyone could see me off--all my friends from the university, my family, my parents...but the plane leaves at 5:50 a.m. and I'm not /that/ desperate, at least, not now. Besides, everyone has things to do, like school and work.

Don't worry, I'm still happy!

Have a wonderful evening, and keep safe!