I've been wanting to write about the coffee fields and how they smell for a solid two weeks now. Since I started writing that last sentence, I realized there's no way I'll be able to do it justice. The mountains covered in cafetales with the little white flowers and light citrus scent create an aura of peacefulness around me. I can't rely on myself to create a peaceful atmosphere – training has been a bit of a roller coaster of events and emotions. But the novelty of looking out over a field of cafetales and feeling like the goddam luckiest woman alive despite whatever ephemeral tension I'm feeling has not yet worn off. And I pray it never does. Or that it can transfer to sugar cane and pineapple fields.
Because I don't think I'm going to a coffee region. Coffee doesn't thrive in hot and humid areas, and for sure that's where my project manager has indicated I'm going. Heat and humidity have not historically been my preferred weather conditions, but I figure two years is enough time to...have a really good reason to hate it? Nah, I'm positive that after a month of super hot weather I'll be donning my cardigan when it hits 75°F just like all the other Ticos. Besides, I'm positive that personal preferences have absolutely nothing to do with site assignment. Which is cool with me. I've gotten to decide so many things for myself in my life that it's nice to hand over control to some other entity. Let my life be a surprise for once, which of course was a big attraction to Peace Corps in the first place.
Except then you forget things, like how yesterday was your Mom's birthday. That is the downside to not being responsible for knowing what day of the week it is. Mom, happy birthday! I know it's late, but at least I didn't call you asking for money this time?
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