Getting the hang of things

Day 2, Tuesday, June 26^th

I got lost today.

That does not bother me so much, after all, it is the only way I can learn my way around a place. It gives me a sense of confidence to have found my way out of such a situation. I recently visited a friend in St. Louis and trusted that, as a student there, she would know the city. It did not take long to realize that that was not the case. At least now, I have no fear to traverse the St. Louis freeway. So I am not afraid to get lost; it is all part of the experience. I just wish it hadn’t been this morning.

My plan was to get to school at eight so I could do some internet stuff (talk to my parents) before class. But it was my first time on the bus alone, and I knew there would be problems. I thought I needed to be looking for the stop past the mall and the Suzuki car dealership. That was the way I had come the morning before. So when I saw the dealership, I decided to wait until I saw the mall and get out. But there are two ways to get to the stop at the Suzuki store, and one does not pass the mall. Unfortunately, I did not discover this until about five stops later, deep into San Jose. It was the train tracks that tipped me off.

I pulled out my map and realized my big mistake. I jumped out at the next stop and considered my next step. I was afraid to grab another bus as I had no clue where they were going. So I started walking in a direction I thought was back, but there were no street signs. By the time I made it to a street with a sign, I had walked another half mile away from the school. And I had forty minutes until school started. Oh boy. I started walking back, for real this time, thinking that if I could get to Avenida 2, I could find a bus that had to be going in my direction. I found many buses but could not decide which was correct. I walked for about fifteen minutes before I realized that the bus pulling up beside me was the bus I was on earlier. So I paid again to get on the same bus and headed back out of town. By the time I made it off at the right stop, I had only fifteen minutes until I had to be in class. I hustled down the street and into the building. I grabbed a glass of water just as the bell rang. Making my way through the throng of people, I made it up to my room and plopped into my seat. Hannah looked at my haggard appearance. “Did you just make it?” I just looked at her.

-switch to present tense-

The rest of the morning until break is a blur. I am shaking and tired. At break, Hannah and I find Beth and I regale her with my lost story. She just laughs at me. Dr. Zambrano comes up, and we fill him in. He looks at me astonished. Then he smiles. “At least you won’t get lost in San Jose again!” ¡Es la verdad!

After break, during which I fill my growing coffee addiction, Roni tells us to turn to a page with nouns. We have to change them into their adjectives and verbs. The whole process is more than fun than serious. If we are wrong, Roni writes them on the board. The thing is, no one will guess, so I just say whatever I think it might be. Needless to say, by the end, I have nine wrong words where everyone else has four or five. I am the queen of wrong guesses. But at least I participate! Perhaps the most fun part is that we make up some great words (fracasito = little failure). I am loving class.

At lunch (tengo un burrito de pollo), everyone is talking about their weekend plans. This has been the hardest thing this week: trying to figure out our weekends. The consensus for most people is to go to Torteguero this weekend to see turtles hatch, but Hannah and Beth and I aren’t so into that. So where then?

After lunch, we talk for awhile about telenovelas, una parte muy importante de la vida de latinoamericanas. It is fun, but we struggle a bit when we have to listen to one and answer questions. Roni’s solution for this: create our own. Yeah.

Assignments handed out, Roni decides to break out the games. Thus proceeds an hour and a half long game of Spanish Boggle. ¡Es muy divertido! Finding Spanish words is hard, but we get the hang of it. But I have a problem. A couple of girls in our little group of six (work Hannah, who was sick yesterday, and new Rachel join us today) feel the need to talk in English the whole time, and it is really annoying me. They paid good money to be here. I paid good money to be here, and I am trying to learn Español. And really, it is a bit rude. Roni seems to be fine, but by the end of the game, I’m a little frustrated. I am too exhausted to try and keep up conversations in Spanish with my friends after class, so I depend on class time to learn. I hope they shape up.

I head to the computer lab (aka, down the stairs) después de la clase and finally get to e-mail my parents. I feel bad; I told them I’d call them Sunday. But I never had the chance. I hope they haven’t been too worried!

One thing I have noticed is how much my Spanish has improved in two days. I know I said that yesterday, but today it is pronounced. And the difference is confidence. I like Spanish, and here, nobody says I am not good enough or not trying hard enough. Everyone wants us to learn, and it is glorious. I have already learned so much, from vocab to grammar to pronunciation, and Roni is very supportive. He makes fun of us sometimes, but it is good natured... I hope. But there I sit, typing a response to Casey’s facebook message, and I realize: this is so much easier now! Being surrounded by it is the primary factor.

It can be overwhelming, Spanish all the time, and sometimes I crave my English friends, or more often, silence. I appreciate my evenings alone after eight, when my family goes to bed. They are peaceful. But here is something funny: learning Spanish is both good and bad for your English. You learn great grammar techniques, but I find myself speaking half in English and half in Spanish muchas veces. And even better, I think like that. It is pretty crazy. Sometimes my English sentences come out phrased rather oddly, but it would be fine if in Spanish. I am loving it.

At five, the group convenes outside of CRLA and Dr. Zambrano’s private bus friend picks us up. I’m getting the handle of city buses, but I’ll admit I like the privacy. It’s nice. We head to a restaurant in the city... of which I cannot remember the name. But it is pretty fancy, or at least looks it. I then proceed to have one the best nights of my life. We talk, we laugh – a lot, and we order great food. I have sea bass (me gustaría el sea bass), and it is delish. We are allowed one drink gratis, so I order a strawberry daiquiri. Now work Hannah, who also orders a daiquiri, and I have decided that they simply take strawberry ice and place it in alcohol, because those things are strong! Yet after I mix it up, all is good.

Heather comes over and starts talking to me about places to go and things to do. They have been here for three weeks already and are heading to Honduras on Thursday. So I am listening intently when she tells me about Paradise. A six hour trip will take us to Panama, where we can take a boat ride with dolphins and hang out on private islands. I think it will be a great thing for Beth and I to do our last week. Paradise and the beach! And... whatever else. We also finalize plans for the weekend and elect Sara as the leader for this week. We are going to the Arenal Volcano and hot springs. We’re staying at a hostel called Gringo Peats and going to the locals side of the hot springs ($30 less), and the whole weekend should run us about $50. We are astonished and very excited. I think there are about ten of us going. The rest are going to the beach (boring!).

After dinner, some people decide to stay around and drink and party. I’m pooped, and I still have homework, so home it is. The private bus takes us home, and Alicia and I start talking about our stops – we are both far away from the rest of the houses. After talking for a bit, we realize that we have the same stop, only we have been boarding the bus at different times! So we make plans to meet the next day, and I get dropped off. I talk to my padres ticos, as Heather calls them, for awhile about my day and then head to my room to attack my homework.

My homework is to write a telenovela. I have to outline the characters, give a plot description, tell where it is located, and discuss the ending. I lay in bed for awhile thinking, when it comes to me: I’ve already written this telenovela! I quickly jot down a brief description of a musical I wrote in High School called Beth. Though the story is not about Beth’s life, she is the main character. Satisfied, I push everything off my bed and quickly fall into a deep sleep.