Joy

The joy hits me like a torrent,

Rushes past me and through me

Like I'm made of nothing but water and dust

Not skin and sinew and stubborn bone.

I shed my workday skin, all scaley and gray,

And shine, like rose gold in the sun

New and light and warm.

You smile, I am reborn.

Troubles forgotten, loads lightened

My day is washed away

While my night with you is at its

Glorious beginning.

There is not greater joy

Than giddy expectation.

No greater miracle to witness

Than the first tender blades of love

Peeking through the barren fields of the heart.

Past and future have no place here.

This moment, the electricity of your touch,

The wild and wicked mischief in your eyes,

The rush of your skin brushing mine:

There is no space for anything here

But joy.

Screen People Vs. Meredith (Hint- Meredith wins)

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day about how "kids these days" don't know how to authentically connect with others. So much of their friendships and connections are through a screen, they are losing the sense of closeness that used to come with spending quality, unplugged time with another person. I too realize I am guilty of too much screen life. Living abroad, I do so much communication online. The people I am closest to in the world I can only reach thanks to technology, and while I am certainly not ungrateful for these means of communication, I also miss the connection. I miss knowing someone so well that we laugh over a look, predict each other's next phrase and anticipate how they will react to the weird dude behind us in line at the 7-11.

I am so #blessed to have had the same best friend since I was three years old. Her name is Meredith, and I miss her something terrible. I miss everything about her and about us that I took for granted when we were young and wild and free roving the 757, wreaking havoc on the roads and leaving no Chic-Fil-A unvisited. 

I miss her hands. She has beautiful, small hands, with nails she keeps meticulously painted. I miss the scientific method she uses to doctor up her coffee, and then how long it takes her to drink it (days). I miss her lack of appreciation for condiments- all she puts on a hotdog is mustard. I miss  how she reacts to cats, with the same begrudging indifference cats normally give to people, except cats are stupidly obsessed with her, probably because she views them with such begrudging indifference. I miss watching her drive while smoking and drinking coffee and shifting- her flow with this multitasking feat is an art form. I miss hearing her laugh with abandon. I miss watching her pick out what to wear; despite the real struggle this presents her (and all of us women, let's get serious) I love listening to her unpack her reasons why or why not certain outfits. Her ability to talk herself out of things is truly something to witness. I miss the way she listens without thinking of the next thing to say- she just listens to make sure she understands. I miss the way she says "awww, Hetero" when I am crying, because I know "awww Hetero" means "God I love you and I am so sad you are sad".

I miss everything about Meredith, but I am grateful that we grew up together and the her I know is the real her. We have spent countless real moments together. We have story after story of shenanigans, gut-wrenching sagas, dramas we survived together. We may not have been physically together for all of our stories, but man, we have such an amazing foundation, built from our years together as kids. 

I hope the current generation has Meredith's in their lives and not just screen people. I don't know what I would do without my Meredith. Even with all the screens, it doesn't make up for just sitting with her in the flesh. I guess I wonder if this is something kids these days even miss.

Patience

I am often amazed by the depth of rage some people display in the face of minor inconveniences.

Yesterday, I was stuck in traffic. This is a normal, abet frustrating, daily occurrence in San Jose. But, by virtue of being a daily occurrence, it is if nothing else predictable, so I sat patiently in my car, listening to music and waiting for the trail of brake lights to indicate forward movement. Without warning, the driver’s door of the car in front of me flung open and a man jumped out, and even in the fading twilight, I could see his face was purple with rage. Some clearly defined chest-bumping-fist-flailing movements alerted me that this purple-faced fella wanted to release a volley of fist-a-cuffs upon the driver of the SUV beside me.

What. In. The. World.

Having arrived late to the scene via a side road, I could not fathom what previous infraction occurred that warranted this scene. As Purpleface approached the driver’s window, my attention returned to the car in front of me, where the woman previously in the passenger seat had jumped into the driver’s seat and was yelling imploringly in Spanish. By now, I had obviously rolled down my window as I wanted to be a good witness for the police in case of bloodshed, yet I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I can only imagine it was the Spanish equivalent of “WHAT IN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING GET YOUR ASS BACK IN THE CAR.” I also, sadly, could not see what was transpiring on the driver’s side of the SUV, but in short order, Mr. Purpleface returned to his vehicle. As he tried to return the driver’s seat, the woman promptly (and wisely, if you ask me) sent him around to the passenger side. At first, the passenger door was locked, to which my brain immediately rejoiced “YAS GIRL SLAY YOU TELL YOUR MAN THAT SHIT IS UNACCEPTABLE”. However, a moment later the door popped open and Purpleface got in, and as I followed them for another few moments, I watched with relative amusement at their ensuing frantic and bombastic hand gesticulations. I can only imagine the verbal lashing he was (deservingly) receiving.

Next, the airport.

Airports are not efficient places. No one is happy to be there. They all want to be somewhere else. Literally. I include the people who work there, as I am sure they would all pursue other career opportunities should they present themselves. Given this, my bar for humanity in airports is so low I have to dig for it. Yet, oh yet, some people still sneak under right on under it.

I’m in a clusterfuck of humanity at my gate and we have begun boarding zone 1. I am zone 5. I know this clusterfuck will continue for at least a half hour. I figure, everyone else in zone 5 understands this as well. That is how zone boarding works. Clusterfuckery followed by sitting in a confined space for hours. Cha.

The man behind me was enraged by this sequence of events. How did I know he was enraged? Constant verbal diaharia. This man had never heard of an internal monologue. “God, why can’t they get in a line”, “They aren’t listening” “God pay attention” “Can’t you read the number” “What is wrong with these people” “Jesus”. Huff, puff, headshake. Repeat. By the third repetition (zone 3), I moved farther back in the clusterfuck. I’d rather get on the plane six people later than spend another moment in his energetic orbit. By the time zone five began boarding, he matched Mr. Purpleface. When my turn came (a mere six passengers later) and I saw him (thankfully) a few rows in front of my assigned seat, he was still purple, huffing and shaking his head. I couldn’t help myself. In my chipperest kill-em-with-kindness voice, I said “Don’t worry, we are still well ahead of schedule I am sure we will take off on time.” He looked at me and said, in a patronizing tone “You think?” Despite my overwhelming desire to verbally castigate him over his horrible behavior, I simply replied, “I do” and went to my seat.

We took off at 12:40, a mere six minutes behind schedule, and by Latin American airport standards, a good half hour early.

To return to my original statement, I am amazed- no, I am flabbergasted- by this rage at little things. While Airport Purpleface was ranting on, all I could think of was the people in Florida, Texas, Louisiana and Montana literally losing everything they own. The earthquake in Mexico, the flooding in India, the whole North Korean regime. And you want to lose your Goddamn bananas over an inefficient boarding process? Really?

Have our modern conveniences only served to make us selfish assholes? Are we now treating each and every one of our minutes on earth as our own private commodities that simply cannot be wasted on something as useless as waiting….for anything? Alternatively, maybe we are all just sleep deprived and cannot self-regulate? Or are we all texting so much we forget how to comport ourselves like civilized humans IRL?

I don’t have the answers, and I am certainly guilty of this rage myself. The other day, I nearly lost my bananas on the pharmacist of the eighth pharmacy I visited that did not have the medicine I needed. I also laid on the horn for a good 20 seconds at the guy who nearly clipped my car as he tried to whiz around me as I backed out of my driveway. So there; I too am guilty of giving into The Rage.

Maybe just identifying the problem is half the battle towards solving the problem. I know I will certainly be more cognizant of my patience and subsequent anger in the future, because frankly, there is no time or place for these shenanigans. We are all fighting our own personal wars. All trying to get to the same place: home, happiness, a life well lived. Who am I to make someone else’s road that much harder over the slightest of inconvenience? I am so blessed, and I should carry my blessings like a badge of honor and a great responsibility. Those who have much should give much. And if nothing else, I never, ever want to be “that purplefaced girl” some random person blogs about. 

Words

Words. I love words.

Words, neatly typed

On a page that smells like home, dust and imagination.

Words, softly spoken

Meant only for me to hear.

Words, breathlessly giggled

Before we all dissolve into stomach-stitching peels of laughter.


I like words on a screen less.

They lack emotion, yet often carry undue weight.

Shouted words I like lesser still,

As they are often used as daggers against the unsuspecting.


I love words, but I also fear them.

Words wield an incredible power.

They can surprise, they can maim, they can resurrect the dying

Or lay a family to waste.


Words can be fickle.

Said with conviction one day,

Only to lose their luster in the days that follow.

Their meaning has changed, but the original intention cannot be unremembered.


Words. I love words.

May they be full of love,

Or full of threat.

May they result in unstoppable joy

Or life-bending pain.

Words are the best chance we have

To finding meaning while we are all together in this place.

Glorious

I play the same song on repeat.

Macklemore, Glorious.

I play it so loud my doors shake with the bass.

I yell along with the lyrics,

But can’t hear myself scream

Over the refrain.

In my car, I could escape.

I don’t, I can’t- where to?

Surrounded by mountains, oceans,

The America above me and America below me.

So I drive home.

But on the way, all I hear

Is Glorious.

If only all I could hear

Was Glorious all day.

If only I could drown out

The rest of the refrains.

Shit, drama and pain,

Rinse, refrain, repeat.

If only, if only

The one single in the disc drive

Was Glorious. 

Trigger Warning: Family

Secrets cycle through, generation to generation,

At first, lost in the last rays of dusk,

Awash in white light and then consumed by the rising darkness.

But then, with the first orange glows of dawn

Secrets cycle back down to the next of the kin.

They were secrets for a reason.

Ugly, unbecoming of good southern folk.

Uncomfortable to tell, more uncomfortable yet to receive.

Words come in short breaths, ears hang on to every syllable,

Desperately seeking the ultimate gift: answers.

Answers for the sobbing 16 year old.

Answers for the lost 24 year old.

Answers for the lonely 30 year old.

A sense of understanding for the woman standing before you.

So many whys answered in brief half-truths.

So many hours wasted in contemplation,

Only to, at long last, have the cycle of secrets circle back.

Finally. Understanding.

Acceptance will come, not today, or tomorrow.

And the secrets will stay secrets, lost again

To the rising darkness of the night,

Until the morning of the next generation

Begins its ascent over the horizon. 

New Orleans, My Old Friend

New Orleans you

Are a blessing

And a curse.

You with your beads

Stuck in my heel.

Your jazz

Forever in my ear.

No, I said.

Leave me in peace.

Let me live my life impervious

To your

Free. Love. Booze. Swing. Thing.

Let me keep

The straight and the narrow.

Let me live my life unchallenged

By your sweet bayou sway.

Sweet Jesus, show me your mercy.

Take this Cajun drum beat sweet rhythm heat

Off of my brain.

Good lord, show me your grace.

Take from me these Creole love sweat swaying toe-tappin feet.

I have lost my way entirely.

Because you, New Orleans, wrecked my plans

So well made

For a life unfettered by change.

If you take me, take me whole.

Drown me in the Pontchartrain.

Smother me with Spanish moss.

Take me down with a pair of dueling pianos

And a round of purple haze.

I cannot defeat you,

God knows how I've tried.

You've cast your hook into me,

For years now I've writhed,

On your hook, your unyielding line.

Pull me in, I'm done resisting.

I am ready, reel me in.

You are the curse that once betrayed me,

Now be the force that won't forsake me.

Soul Searchers

There are a good many of us soul searchers in our 30’s. My guess is that few of us thought we’d be there by now. At 21 we had it all. figured. out. Career plans. Family plans. Retirement plans (at least we thought about opening retirement accounts). All the plans intersected at 30, the point at which we would have all our plans realized and be on the smooth path towards a life lived well.

I’m 33 and I had Nutella straight out of the jar with a spoon for breakfast yesterday. I have not figured it all out. I will, with cautious optimism, say that I have about 30% figured out, with the remaining 70% residing between cluelessness and I’ll figure it out….later. Furthermore, I have no magic intersection age at which I plan to have the other 70% worked out. Certainly not 40, that’s in seven short years, and I’ve noticed the older I get the faster time goes, so seven years is practically the blink of an eye. If I was still 21, this lack of urgency and certainly would cause me great mental anguish and probably constipation. Lucky for me and my bowels, I am 33 and fully embrace my place. I am a soul searcher in my 30’s, and like I said, I have it on good authority there are many of us yet out there.

Make no mistake though- we are not a type. We are not all married or single, childless or with child(ren). Employed, unemployed, gay, straight or bi. Just because I fake tan doesn’t mean I’m lost. I just might like not being pale all the time. Just because I am single doesn’t mean I am looking and just because I am married doesn’t mean I’ve settled. There’s just something about being more seasoned that gives one the permission to be untethered. Experience forgives us if we choose not to commit to a certain course of action, or to change direction if the wind moves us. At 21, an uncertain future was the enemy. Now, I feel that an uncertain future is merely a blank page, with endless possibility. Perhaps the page will be filled with words of sorrow, or colors dark and boding. But with any luck, there will be another blank page after that, and another after that. A life long lived is a book full of all the colors and stories, fantastic and woeful. Why, at 21, in the very beginning, was I so eager to have my book already written?

My fellow 30’s soul searchers, hold your Nutella jars up high with pride! We are in the zone! Tethered by our past choices yet with a long untethered life before us- there are many pages of our books still unwritten. Embrace your search, with all it’s colors. Yes, we have more responsibilities now, and yes, adulting often sucks. But, the search is on, and there is so much yet to come. So much yet to discover and embrace. So much to figure out, or to leave for another time….later. Embrace your search in all it’s uncertainly, and give zero fucks about what you eat for breakfast. 

Vincible

The power comes in waves. Triumphant, 
with the windows down and music loud. 

Later, alone, with the rain for company,
All is quiet, and so much heavier.

I'd welcome a middle ground:
Rain, with a bit of song.
Windows down, ears filled with only wind.
Power laced with mortality.
Power tempered by prudence.

Strength in vulnerability.
Answers whispered before the questions
are even asked. 

2nd Honeymoon

I’ve been in the world long enough, and gone through enough break ups of my own to realize that every one is different. Some are worse than others, and there are even categories they might fall into that people can recognize and know, at least peripherally, what the breakuper is going through. When someone cheats, the breakup is often filled with anger, perhaps remorse on the part of the cheater. Ghosting, the most passive aggressive form of a break up, is just rude, so I am not going to talk about it. The mutual breakup seemed to me, before last month, the cleanest, prettiest breakup one could hope for. No hard feelings, no anger, no remorse and certainly not rude.

I am learning that the mutual breakup has it’s downsides. Indeed, there is no anger, but that means there is nothing to counteract my sadness. I feel my losses doubly, both because of my lack of anger as a counter balance, and because I am now sad thinking both of my good memories and the plans I had created that will never come to pass. I have entered a phase of almost a second honeymoon. The first honeymoon was the beginning of my relationship, when all was love and love was all. There was no bad, no friction, nothing to interfere with love and wanting and joy and hope for the future. Now, in my second honeymoon, the well thought out reasons for the breakup have vanished from my mind and have been replaced with all the good. Everything good that ever happened is all I can seem to remember. All the love, the wanting, the joy and the hope are there, on display, all of my waking hours. Yet, I am alone. Just me and my good memories and my sadness.

Just as I know the first honeymoon ended (and boy did it), I am sure this one will as well. A good friend said I should just start dating- force the inevitable to help me get over my sadness. I wish I could, but the memories have swallowed me. Truly, while I fake it pretty well, all I want to talk about is the memories. My love, my joy, my wanting and my hope. They are on the surface of everything I do. I cannot swim around or over them, as much as I would like to. I fear that going on a date, they would bubble up and out of my mouth and ruin all my chances for, whatever.

Thus, I need to sit it out. Wait for the bad and the angst that was also to finally resurface. The struggle will mix in with the joy and finally I will be able to see what I saw back then- love, but also suffering. Misunderstanding, difference like a gorge without a bridge to cross. There was a reason for this mutual break up after all, a crevice that could not be overcome. Eventually, it will come to pass that I will stand and walk forward once again. But for now I will continue to sit and wait and revel in my sadness. This honeymoon will pass, as they all do, and the real world will begin anew.

Transitions

I take great pleasure in the alignment of small details. Shoes, neatly stacked by the door. A alphabetically organized accordion file. Inbox zero. A well managed refrigerator.

I have not always been this way. There are stories, fables, legends really, about the filth accumulated in my college dorm room. However, those days are long past, and as I blossomed into adulthood, as did my penchant for order. Like any good Myers Briggs J, I rejoice in finding things in their proper place. I revel in a To-Do list completed. I honor efficiency, the noblest of traits.

In order there is freedom. I mean this not in a pathological or diabolical way. I do not fear OCD tendencies nor do I demand unflinching order from others. I just mean to say that when my life is in order, so is my mental state. When all is where it should and as it should be, I am finally able to relax.

Unfortunately for me and my J brethren, life is anything but orderly. Which is likely why I find myself back here again, putting words on the page, trying to make order out of chaos.

Perhaps chaos is a strong word. My friend Rob (a Myers Briggs P) says I am in “transition” and “transitions” are, by their nature, uncomfortable. While I agree with both statements, I would like to take it one step further and say that “transition” just took a five bag pound of rice and dumped it all over my well managed refrigerator, alphabetically organized accordion file and neatly stacked shoes. “Transition” laughed all the while, then rolled around in a mud puddle and fell asleep in my spotless bathtub.

I cannot relax. What’s more, I cannot be efficient, as the mess before me is large and I cannot fathom where to start. And so I sit here and try to get words on a page in hope they will guide me forward.

To begin, maybe I will make a t-shirt. It will say DO NOT ASK WHERE I SEE MYSELF IN 5 YEARS. No one, NO ONE enjoys this question, least of all me. Do I have plans? No, I don’t, I’ll take it as it comes. Am I okay? Sure. I have way, WAY too many good things going for me not to be. How am I feeling? That’s a nice, non-committal question. I am sad. I miss things that were that are no longer. It hurts me deeply, to look back as to look forward. There are things that now will not come to pass that I think hurt more than the things that are no longer. I am not scared, but I am anxious. Remember I said before I have a lot going for me? Those things keep me from being scared, but the future is uncertain, and that calls for some trepidation. Here’s another question: what do I want? Want. That’s a loaded word. Let’s try another. What do I need? ::takes reflective pause::

I need order. Stability. But I also need freedom and a little wilderness and a few unexpected problems to solve. I need hugs. All of the hugs. I need to snuggle small animals against their will. Sometimes I need to talk out my feelings, which usually involves me saying the same thing 14 different ways but I still need you to listen and smile reassuringly and give me a hug when I’m finally talked out. You know what I need more of? Belly laughs. Also impromptu 10pm runs to the store for candy and beer and maybe that imported bag of chips that costs $7.

Okay, words on paper. I get it. If I start taking care of my needs, I may get what I want. And if I take care of my wants and needs, I might starting working through the mess transition has made in my life. Maybe, just maybe, I can be okay with finding rice grains in my refrigerator for a while. After all, sometimes it’s the small details that remind you of the transitions you’ve lived through and, of course, overcome. 

The End of an Era

Why is it always the end of an era? We never hear that the era began, or that the era carried on. 

Do eras always end? 

At the end of the era, is there a bang? A whimper? A glimmer of what could have been?

At the end, there must be fond memories, a sense of pride for what was. 

Perhaps, a bit a of nostalgia. A sweet hint of melancholy, because, apparently

All good things must come to an end. 

Why must they, though? Why all these ends of eras and good things ending?

Can't the good go on and the eras carrying on carrying on? 

Asking for a friend, standing now at the end of an era, watching

The good things come to an end. 

My friend, she's feeling pretty nostalgic. Hell, I'd say she's even pretty sad.

She wished (so hard she wished) that the good could keep on going. 

She prayed (Lord, she did pray) that the era would have no end. 

Yet, the end came. The good, it ended. 

She stands now on the divide. The space between what was and the dark unknown

Of What Is Going To Be.

She's feeling pretty sad, and yes, a little scared. 

No one ever talks about what happens after the end of an era, or what comes next 

When all good things come to an end. 

So now she wants to know- needs to know. 

Is it a bang? A whimper? A glimmer?

Again, asking for my friend, whose there, standing at the end.

I hope, for her sake, that when the era ends something good will begin. 

Blogger fail

I feel like such a terrible blogger. Ever since this time last year, my enthusiasm and interest in blogging went down the tub. Don't get me wrong: I love the idea that I can communicate with many people at once about my goings ons. In fact, I feel quite guilty when I don't blog simply because I know some of you are actually interested in how I am doing south of the border. However, I am finding it harder and harder to carve out the time to blog, and then so much happens that to blog about it all would be overwhelming. Sigh. Indeed, in my former life, writing about my thoughts, feelings and activities was a much needed outlet. Now, it has strangely become just another thing to do. I wonder where my deep longing to engage with the written word has run off to. Will it ever return? I hope so. Otherwise the dramatics of my 20's will be the pinnacle of my sad literary career. 

Meanwhile, gentle readers, I leave you two things: a quick synopsis of my current life and a reflective entry from a long-forgotten post in my Facebook notes from 2008. 

First: synopsis. Work is going well. Still travelling some but the initial fervor has died down a bit. Looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with some work friends in a sick house on the beach with an infinity pool. Also looking forward to coming home for Christmas! Ivan is in week three of a great new job with Experian! He's doing what he wants to be doing and we are both very happy that he is gainfully employed. Everyone is happy and healthy in my world, missing autumn and all pumpkin flavored things but totally overjoyed not to be cold. 

Second: Throwback to 2008, reminding me that my reflections then were eerily relevant to my future some years later, as well as in 2008, apparently. 


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


When I read poetry, it makes me realize how little humanity has changed over time. Maybe Frost didn't have to deal with rush hour traffic or stock options, but the basic struggles he faced were the same that we do today. Frost wonders- where do I go from here? Faced with a decision, Frost knows that there is no turning back once a decision is made. On that fateful morning, Frost wonders do I take the road less traveled?

We all have those sort of mornings. We wake up and say "is that what I want to be doing? Have I traveled the right path?". I woke up one morning in late March and asked myself the same question- was I happy with the road I was traveling?

The answer, I found, was no. And so I found myself standing on a precipice. Do I take the road I planned or do I seek another road? At first, I didn't think there was another road. But after looking for a bit I found it- a grassy, limb-covered road that I never would have found without looking for it. So there I was, just like Frost, facing two roads. One was the road I decided for myself two years ago that was preened and clear from years of mental contemplation. The other road, the new road, was scary. I knew very little about it or where it would lead.

I took the road less traveled. With one foot in front of the other, I started down a new road and I don't know where each turn will bring me. But despite the unfamiliar landscape, I wake up each morning happy with the decision I made. Because of that, I muster up a little faith and continue my journey.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

My September Disappeared in a Blur of Travel

Oh my goodness where has September gone? I am sure that time moves faster down here! It has been a great month with lots of travelling and more settling in the the rhythm of things. We got the bike all maintenanced up and inspected, which she passed with flying colors. I still won't drive her and am I not sure if I will, but so far it has worked out fine since I take the school bus to and from school and Ivan ends up using the bike to do his things. The rainy season has hit in full force this month, so that kind of cramps any significant travel plans after noon. I mean, we have rain gear, but nobody wants to drive on a moto in a monsoon, which is usually what the rain at this time of year amounts to. 

Monsoons aside, we have gotten a lot of travel in. The second week of September Ivan, eight other teachers and myself caravaned (in cars!) five hours all the way to the north pacific coast to the popular beach town of Tamarindo. Tamarindo hosts a race during this weekend each year and a few of the teachers and Ivan were participating. We got a BEAUTIFUL AirBnB rental house on Playa Grande, the beach just walking distance from the town. I say walking distance because indeed, we could walk down the beach 15 minutes and reach Tamarindo. However, there is a small watershed between the two which requires a quick boat ride across. Not a big deal during the day, but since the racers had to be in Tamarindo at 4:30am, a quick jaunt across in a boat wasn't really an option. So instead, they had to drive to Tamarindo, turning the 15 minute walk into a 45 minute drive! There is no direct road across the estuary, so to drive from Playa Grande to Tamarino you have to basically come all the way back inland and loop around, over some really rough dirt roads no less! So after getting in at 11pm on Friday night the poor racers had to be up and out the door by 3am to get to the race before they closed the roads. Despite being sleep deprived, everyone did well. Ivan did the half marathon so fast that he had already crossed the finish line by the time I arrived to cheer him on at 7:30am! The rest of the trip was so wonderful and relaxing. The beach was beautiful with perfect surfing waves and lots of pretty shells and rocks. After the race, we didn't go back into Tamarindo but instead hung out at the house/pool/beach. On Saturday night we walked around the small beach community in Playa Grande, finding a great restaurant attached to the well-known Bula Bula Hotel. We stayed through Sunday afternoon before making the trek back to San Jose. Tamarindo and Playa Grande are definitely longer weekend trips, but we had Tuesday off as a national holiday to recover, which was necessary for sure!

The next weekend Ana Ligia, our wonderful HR manager, invited a bunch of teachers to her parents' home outside of Cartago. Cartago is a small, very historical city about a half hour outside of east San Jose, well known for some of it's historical churches, most famously the cathedral that houses La Negrita, the patron "saint" of Costa Rica. Ana Ligia's parents' home was about 30 minutes outside of Cartago with beautiful views of the mountains. They have a full guesthouse/bar, so we just ate and drank and enjoyed one another's company for whole evening, with many of us staying the night to avoid the long drive home. The next morning we trekked into Cartago proper, where we had breakfast and checked out the cathedral. There were of course Sunday morning services so we couldn't get close enough to check out La Negrita. You guys really need to look up the story about La Negrita. It is really interesting! Additionally, every August 2nd one MILLION pilgrims walk to Cartago from all over the country to pay homage to this little lady, some of them finishing the last few hundred yards on their knees. I have no idea how that many people fit in Cartago, because it is not a big place, but who knows maybe I'll make the walk next year and check it out!

Last weekend was just THE BEST. My wonderful friend Sarah flew down just for the weekend to hang out! She found a great deal on Southwest, which has direct flights out of Baltimore (TAKE NOTE PEOPLE) and decided to come down for a long weekend. Ivan and rented a car (WHICH WAS SO MUCH FUN AND NOW I WANT TO BUY A CAR), picked her up at the airport at 1pm Friday and made our way to the pacific coast. We rented a two bedroom apartment on the Punta Leona Resort, which is only about an hour and a half outside of San Jose. The resort is huge, with many different hotels, chalets, apartments, homes etc, along with a number of restaurants, three pools, two beaches, mini golf and a partridge in a pear tree. We checked in and by 3:45 were at the beach! Their beach, Playa Blanca, is really beautiful with soft waves, soft sand and really nice beach chairs! We watched the sunset from the beach, which is particularly beautiful as it sets behind the mountains of Guanacaste, the peninsula across the bay. After dinner (where Ivan finally got to eat his whole fish!) we passed out happy. On Saturday we spent the ENTIRE DAY at the beach! We arrived around 8am and while Sarah and I claimed our chairs, Ivan went back to the apartment and cooked us breakfast! He showed up two hours later with egg, tomato and avocado wraps! What a great start to our day! Around 2pm a flock of scarlet macaws all randomly showed up and took up residence in a tree right on the beach. Sarah and I floated in the water just watching them eat- they were so big and beautiful! And so funny to watch interact with one another. After a half hour and without warning they ALL suddenly took off, first in one direction then the other, in almost perfect synchrony. Watching a flock of over 30 scarlet macaws flying is truly incredible! We headed home to shower, got dinner and hit up the outdoor bar for a night cap, where Sarah and I tried a drink called "silk stockings" that was make of Gin, a liquor called "Perfect Love" that was purple, evaporated milk and coconut milk. It doesn't sound all that great but it was AMAZING. We took our milk-filled bellies home, played some games and went to bed before midnight. We. are. totally. over. thirty.

On Sunday, we hung out at the beach in the morning and then decided to make the trek to Volcan Poas, a volcano north of San Jose and about two hours from the resort. Yes, it blows my mind too that I can drive two hours from a beautiful beach to a volcano. I drove the whole way and it was crazy to watch both the scenery and feel the temperature change- very hot to actually chilly. Despite our best efforts, we did not actually get to go check out the volcano- due to lightning in the area, the park was closed! We made the best of it though, buying strawberries from a street vendor and then heading to a well-known restaurant near the peak where we had the best hot chocolate of our lives, paired with some crazy dessert that mixed plantains, strawberry jam and excessive cheese. We got back home around 6pm, reconnected to our work emails and went to bed. The next morning we had breakfast together and I went to work while Ivan took Sarah to the airport and returned the rental. And now here I am on September 30th wondering where the month went, but it's pretty obvious that I just filled it to the brim! 

Two Weekends: Two Adventures!

What a fantastic two weeks we have had! We've had two incredibly adventurous weekends with two solid work weeks in between. Two Sundays ago Ivan and I met up with the San Jose Kymco Scooter club. We happened to catch a small group week, as it was just us, the leader, a 27 year old super scooter enthusiast named Ever and a charming couple in their late thirties named Jimsy and Eric. All of us had some version of a Kymco Scooter with CC's ranging from 275-500, so we were all stocked and ready for the open road. Our trip took us  down the autopista for a while and then on to a beautiful, curvy back road through some of the most beautiful mountains, hills and small towns. It looked like we were in the Shenandoah Valley, not Central America! Each small town has a town center with a lovely church, so passing through each town brings something interesting to look at. It took us a bit more than an hour on the road to reach our destination: Zarcero. Zarcero is a small town with an incredible central plaza, notable for some crazy and beautiful shrub sculptures and a beautiful church. 






We spent most of the morning into the afternoon just lounging around the plaza enjoying the day. On the way back we passed through a different set of towns, including Sarchi, famous for their artisan furniture and "ox carts", a Costa Rican-specific artisan craft that consists of a brightly painted ox cart wheel sold at great expense. On the way back we also hit some rain but I was surprised at what a non-event it was with all the rain gear on. The bike handled great and we are looking forward to going again. 

This past weekend Ivan and I celebrated our two year anniversary on another bike trip! This time, we headed for the beach. We left early Saturday morning bound for Playa Manta, one of the closest beaches to San Jose and known for having calmer waters. We found the road there just fine, but then nearly pooped ourselves hobbling over 3.5 kilometers of holey, dirt road to get finally to the beach. But it was such a great beach! The water was indeed flatter and the beach was smaller than Esterillos Oeste but lovely, palm lined and perfect for a relaxing day. We left around two after we discovered that the high tide literally pushes you all the way back into the trees! Once we were up off the sand we figured it was time to go. We headed to an Air BnB I had found that was about a half hour on the way back to San Jose, off, we discovered, another dirt road! This one was only about a kilometer. At the BnB we met the lovely Claudine, a Luxemburgian transplant to Costa Rica who had a "casita" (little house) in her back yard by her awesome pool. The casita was adorable and the "backyard" was a professionally designed tropical garden surrounded by jungle and, of course, with a really great pool. We swam, we rested, we even walked back to the main road to eat dinner at a great little soda right on the corner of street. It was just such a great find! The next morning, Claudine cooked us breakfast on her porch which overlooked the jungle and was so high up that you could see the coast and ocean, not to mention all of the scarlet macaws playing in the trees! Needless to say, we very much enjoyed our little anniversary trip! The only downside was getting caught in the rain on the way back....and choosing NOT to put on our rain gear. I won't make that mistake again!

Routines are a Good Thing

Another week in the books and the settling in process continues to go smoothly. We GREATLY enjoyed our trip to Esterillos Oeste last weekend. The beach was practically deserted. I know it's rainy season but still! The beach itself is very wide and very very long, so the few people who were there could spread out from each other nicely. We enjoyed a lively game of three-on-three two hand touch football on the beach and some frolicking in the waves. The pacific beaches are quite wavey so swimming isn't always an option, but I have been told that the seasons effect the waves quite a bit. The high of the day's activities was listening to Ivan explain why football should not be called football, as he (correctly) pointed out that the ball is rarely kicked and in fact the ball isn't shaped like a ball. His suggestion is that we change the name from football (which confuses the Latinos anyways because futbol to them is soccer) and instead call American football "egg arm", because you are using your arm to throw an egg-shaped ball. Of course. 

At school, we had back to school night and I got to meet some of my students' parents. So far, everyone seems quite nice. I am still waiting for "but" to come in at some point, however, so far everything at work is going along busily and swimmingly. 

Back at the compound, we are easing into some enjoyable weekly routines. On Fridays, we have continued the trend of having small parties to celebrate the end of the week. This week, we  had some rousing games of Bananagrams and Cards Against Humanity. On Fridays, Michelle and I also roll down to the community center near our apartments for a free Zumba class. It's so enjoyable. The people are so nice, there are kids running around and no one is showing up looking all pretentious with matching spandex and diamond earrings. It's a great way to close the work week out. On Saturdays, we hit the market. I am getting really good at shopping at the market, knowing what to get and how much to get. Nothing has gone to waste yet so I am pleased with my process so far. Today at the market, I met a lovely Venezuelan father and son pair because I was wearing my Magallanes hat. The Magallenes are my favorite Venezuelan baseball team and the father was wearing the rival team's hat! They were so nice and I so enjoyed meeting them. Ivan says it's sad I am meeting all the nicest Venezuelans not in Venezuela. 

Tomorrow Ivan and I are excited to join a scooter gang that travels around on Sunday mornings to visit nice places outside of San Jose. Ivan found them on Facebook and is really pumped to talk scooters with the gang members. I told Ivan that this gang isn't going to be nearly as cool as my Grandfather's biker gang. Scooters can't top a bunch of old guys on Harleys! But then again, I have never heard of a scooter gang so this could prove interesting. Either way, it will be a great little adventure to close out our fifth week in Costa Rica! 

Un mes esta en el pais de Pura Vida

And just like that, we have lived in Costa Rica for a month. I can't decide if I feel like I have lived here for a year or three days- some days it seems like I've been here forever and other days (particularly those when I get lost) I feel like I just stepped off the plane. Either way, we continue to explore and enjoy our new home!

We've taken the bike out to the burbs of San Jose a time or two now with no incidents. Despite my naysaying, we haven't dropped her yet. We also still haven't decided on a name, so she will continue being "the baby". After my first practice session I have yet to try to drive her again myself. Ivan has gotten so comfortable on it that for the meantime I think that I am just going to backseat drive. We are hoping to take a trip to one of the closer beaches in the next few weekends! 

Speaking of beaches, we are looking forward to a number of beach trips in the coming weeks. Tomorrow we are heading out with a few friends to Esterillos Oeste, a small, tucked-away beach about two hours from San Jose. This is the beach that all the teachers who have been here for a while rave about. The second weekend of September, we are road tripping to Guanacaste, the peninsula on the pacific side where most of the famous tourist beaches are, for the Tamarindo Marathon. We've rented a very nice house that sleeps 12 and while Ivan and others run anywhere from 5km to a marathon, I will be waking up late and meandering to the finish line to cheer them on! The last weekend of September I am REALLY excited because SARAH LINKE SKANCKE IS COMING TO VISIT ME. I've taken a Friday off of work and she and I are going for a weekend escape! I could not be more excited to host one of my dearest and oldest friends as my first guest! She has also promised to be my pack mule so I am thrilled to get magic erasers and peanut butter. At least now I don't have to request toilet paper. 

School is going GREAT. I LOVE my job and my department. I am so enjoying getting to know the students. They are really wonderful young people. I got a great surprise this week as well when the assistant principal for the secondary school came into my office and asked if I would be the speaker for the senior awards ceremony! He said that the administration thought that I would be a good choice because of my "energy". Guess they have me pegged already! I was honored to be asked and I am excited to write my speech. I have also been excited to teach the 10th grade advisory class about character and careers. We have had some amazing discussions on character qualities, growth mindset and grit. The kids have really taken to it and it makes me so happy to help students engage with this content. My favorite comment so far came from a shy 10th grade boy whom I heartlessly called on as he was obviously trying to make himself as small as possible in his desk in the back of the classroom. I had asked the question "how do we define character" and had some good responses but none that really nailed it. So I called on Mr. Back Seat Hider and after a minute of reflection (or sheer fear) he said "Character is how people remember you." Boom. I was floored. Did I mention I love my job?

I also love getting to know the new cohort of people I came here with as well as the returning teachers. Living in the compound is really expediting the "getting to know you" process. As in, last night, we were having happy hour in one of the girl's apartments when we realized that Rob, the token single straight guy of the building, had a girl coming over for a date. So of course we all descended upon his apartment to help him clean it and hang pictures before her arrival. And then we accidentally spilled a huge glass of red wine all over the floor. Poor Rob. But in all seriousness, everyone is so nice and accepting. I know this because I was supposed to go out with a lot of the crew last night and instead fell asleep with all of my going out clothes on at 9:30 and no one gave me a hard time. Pura Vida, right?

Our First Three Weeks as Ticos

I have walked around half of San Jose. Eaten a lot of mangos. Been to the beach. Been to the jungle too. Seen a volcano (not too closely though). I've even made a doctors appointment over the phone all in Spanish ALL BY MYSELF.

So ya, I am going well here in the land of Pura Vida. It's been a whirlwind transition like any good transition is. On day two, Ivan and I moved into our tiny apartment. I am not going to lie: my Caracas apartment spoiled me. Moving into a very small, unfurnished apartment with no pool and tennis court almost did me in. I didn't cry, but I thought about it. It took about two weeks to get settled in and now I quite like the place; we've definitely made it our own. Before I arrived, I was determined to cook more and I am happy to report that, despite my tiny kitchen, I have made at least five full meals so far. Meals that included farmers market ingredients AND making necessary substitutes.  #omgIamfinallyreallyreallyanadult.

Amazingly, and with the help from some incredibly nice co-workers, Ivan and I have purchased a MONSTER moped. Like, I didn't know they made mopeds this big. I know Mom. I can hear you now: BUT TRACEY WHY DO YOU NEED AN EVEN BIGGER MOPED YOU ARE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED. Calmate Mom. This baby is going to take us to the beach! It's definitely more of a bike for the open road, so it will get us around town and out of town for those oh-so-necessary beach weekends as well. For now, Ivan is the primary driver while I practice turning right and going over speed bumps, but I'll get there. I am very excited about our upgrade and for us to get comfortable enough to hit the open road. She is lacking a name though, so we are taking suggestions! 

School is, well, incredible. I am absolutely over the moon about my department head Monica. She and I are a two-woman college counseling show. Monica is a Tica who has been making some stellar changes to the department since she came a year and half ago. Last year it was approved to expand the department by one full time person....and here I am! I think we will make an excellent team. I also adore my secondary principal and the superintendent. They are both very progressive, nerd out on things like Grit and Growth Mindset and Character Education (LIKE ALL THE THINGS I LOVE AND READ ABOUT CONSTANTLY JUST FOR FUN) and are like. so. crazy. nice. and. welcoming. In fact, everyone here is so nice and welcoming! Ticos are very concerned that we gringos are happy and enjoying ourselves in the land of pura vida. 

Enjoying ourselves we have been. I have a great cohort of new teachers to get to know. It's not hard getting to know each other either- the majority of us all live in the tiny apartments together. Our building is nine units and each unit is a Lincoln School teacher! Since the building is surrounded by a wall, we have been referring to it as "the compound", but really it's more like being in dorms again. If you are home and accepting visitors, you just keep your door open. People stop by, chat, swap beers and stories. Friday night we have an impromptu 90's dance party on the balcony. In fact, right now I write this post from my "office"- a small table on the balcony overlooking the street and the yonder mountains. It is nice to be close to people. We can help each other out and it makes commuting easy. It also makes getting to know each other happen rather inorganically, as we can all hear what everyone else is doing at all times (even over the din of traffic). My wish is that we all continue to get along as well as we have been!

The location of the compound is stellar. It's only 4k from school, next to a discount grocery store and walking distance from a much nicer (abet more expensive) grocery store, a strip mall of stores and restaurants (including a drive thru only KFC), a community center (where I partake in free zumba on Mondays and Fridays!), an awesome, inexpensive year-round Saturday farmers market and a real, serious, fancypants mall! The Lincoln Plaza is a serious business mall that makes me feel more like I am in Miami than San Jose. It's way nicer than any of the malls I frequented in the US for sure! A little farther down the road we can walk or bus to a Walmart, an EPA (like Lowes or Home Depot) or the Tibas or Morovia plazas which are surrounded by a variety of stores. Ivan has found a number of great running routes and one of them is a nice 5k loop that I have walked a couple of times. Even though we are technically in the rainy season, the weather has been unseasonably dry this year so we are all trying to be outside as much as we can. 

All and all, the last three weeks have been good. I do have my moments. Sometimes I feel that things are just so "easy" here. Like San Jose is Latin America Lite. Sure, people run on Tico time and peanut butter is like a million dollars, but besides a few weird prices and inconveniences it is remarkably easy and manageable to live here. But then again, my bar is living in Venezuela. And I may be looking at it with rose colored glasses, but I kind of miss the challenge of living in Caracas. It certainly kept me on my toes. And I left all I knew and love for adventure, not drive through KFCs after all:). I'm sure I'll adjust to the easy life soon enough and shudder at the thought of going back to jetting out of work at a moments notice because there is milk in the store. But for now, I am letting myself mourn the loss of waiting in incredible lines, not being able to find toilet paper and spending over $1000 on plane tickets to the US. No really, I am missing my balcony, my friends, never having to spend money and my little moped Cindy. She certainly couldn't get me to the beach but she could take those speed bumps like a little champion.