my favorite host cousin.  his smile is all metal and he's kind of wild, it's so cute.

and this is my host momma!

annnnd this is where we cook a lot of things...see the ovens?

Earthquake

Gah!  You know what's terrifying?  It's eleven o'clock at night so I'm the only one awake, watching a movie on my laptop.  And the earth starts to move.  Not a lot, just a little wiggle, but enough that I notice.  No one wakes up, there's no one to confirm that it just happened.  I am alone and the house shook.  Makes a person want to go to bed.  That happened last night.

But yeah, anyway...it's corn season and it's wonderful.  As a North American, I had no idea exactly how many things you could do with this small yellow veggie and probably never will.  Every day I hear of a new food that can be made from maíz and the following day my host mom usually tries to make it for me.  Of course there are the well known tortillas and tamales, but then there's also yol, perrereques, arroz de maíz, tanela, tamal asado, chorreados and so many more.  I've yet to see someone eat corn on the cobb, though, which is curious.

My favorite so far has been tamal asado, which I made with my boyfriend's mom a few days ago.  She had already mixed the ingredients by the time I arrived but she listed them with the fluency of a woman who has rarely used a written recipe in her life.  The thick, golden yellow liquid in the massive cooking pot over the fire contained ground corn, sugar, cheese, sour cream and vanilla extract (...These are a few of my favorite things!...).  From the goop to the good stuff, one need only mix the contents of the pot for twenty minutes with a big wooden paddle until the tamal asado batter gets cooked down enough that it's hard to push around.  When it got to the right consistency, we put the top on the pot (it was the size of a car wheel) and on top of that we placed a spare piece of the tin roof.  Shovel some of the hot coals from the fire on bottom to the roof on top and bam...this thing is really cooking.  When it's all finished it's about the consistency of something between fudgy brownies and pound cake and – to my gringo palate – not nearly as delicious as either of those.  However, it is sweet and fills me up fast so it's one of the best snacks I've found so far.

I'm going to assume that for some of you the tamal asado was not at all interesting compared to a certain statement that you may want me to expand upon.  Yeah, soooo...I have a boyfriend.  He currently lives in my town but pretty soon he's going to boot camp for the Fuerza Pública (aka the national police force).  Since he got his bachelor's in Teaching English as a Foreign Language, his English is stellar and he's up for the tourism police.  That's a sweet deal because then he'll more than likely stay in the area and work on the beaches of Guanacaste with all the benefits that a government job entails.

Friends from home – please believe me that I, too, never thought I'd be dating the fuzz.  I also said that after Bolivia I was absolutely done with dating Latinos.  And I'm probably on record somewhere as saying “It's stupid to shit where you eat,” meaning “Don't date within the small Costa Rican town where you work as a Peace Corps Volunteer.”  A textbook example of what it's like to eat your own words.

Yum.  Any embarrassment I would feel about being so wrong is outweighed by how awesome he is.

So a lot of neat things happening.  Corn harvest, relationship making, the English classes are still going well, In-Service Training is right around the corner and...oh yeah...There's going to be a new baby in my host family!  We found out this week that Genesis's mom, my oldest host sister, has got another bun in the oven.  Nothing like seeing a woman close to you get pregnant to make you wonder what the hell you're doing with your own life.  But, getting over myself and the five minute I-want-to-be-a-mommy-too crisis, I'm already so excited to meet the new bebé.  As someone who will be sharing a living area with the new baby, I hope he or she is just as calm, beautiful and pleasant to be around as Genesis.  As a second child myself, though, I guess I know better hehe.

Speaking of all things cute and cuddly, Doky's doing pretty well.  And he's getting pricey.  I'd like to take this dog back to the United States with me at the end of service (I don't think it'll be too hard to convince my host family to let me have him) and so I'm trying to do things right to keep him healthy from the start.  I went to get him vaccinated and the vet told me that Doky suffers from anemia, which means I needed to buy some liquid vitamins.  Doky should also be eating dog food and not leftover rice and beans, so I bought a kilo of dog food.  And finally, he needs to take some anti-parasite pills over the next month...which I could easily find for purchase at the same place.  Instead of $16 the trip cost me about $25, a healthy portion of my monthly budget.  But at least I have some papers now that list me as the owner and the dates of the shots and boosters.

Hmm...what else is new?  The time to write the diagnostic is drawing to a close.  The diagnostic itself is just beginning to take its true shape.  Until now I was typing but with no real aim and I think it was because I didn't understand what my work plan for the next two years was going to look like.  It made for some pretty vague and shitty text.  But after setting some definite objectives to include in my work plan at the end of my diagnostic, it feels like filling in the gaps rather than trying to re-create my town on paper.  Re-creating my town in black and white is incredibly daunting.  Explaining the things that are pertinent to a development volunteer's proposed work plan is way more natural of a document to write.  Change of focus at the eleventh hour – this is historically when I shine.

It's been awhile since the last one, neh?

“Location, location, location...”  I can't buy into any more.  Not after watching Doky tackle some peanut butter.  He's just a little thoroughbred cutie is what he is (it sounds so much better than stinky mutt).  Anyway, Costa Rica or the United States...that shit is funny anywhere.

Updates on Doky will henceforth have nothing to do with the actual post, but he's pretty much like my child so I'll still talk about him a lot.  I bought him a flea collar today and he's learning to walk on a leash.  Next week I'll bathe him and take him to get vaccinated.  All of this I feel mildly guilty about, only because...well...I was kind of enjoying him as this carefree little fur-bomb with poop stuck on his butt and a stupid/happy expression on his face.  I dunno, but I imagine it's like putting your kid in pre-school.  You know it's in the kid's best interest.  But something irreversible happens that day and you wonder if “the system” is actually where you want them to be.

Soooo...it's nighttime and Doky's whining outside because he can't come in the house.  But he has a beautiful little shack that my host sister built, and he needs to learn to sleep there.  I suppose it's the right thing to do, but I wish he wasn't crying.

Apart from that, things are looking up from my last post.  I realized that I can add to my list “shopping” as a de-stresser.  For better or for worse, some new hair clips and a new nose ring can really do wonders for my emotional state.  Oh and uh...yeah, ice cream.  For sure.  Also, I had three things happen today that were just so damn positive and left me feeling so happy that I can't help but think that things are once again looking up.

First, this afternoon at cafecito a woman came by who looked about as old as Moses (give or take about one Old Testament generation).  Her image as being elderly to the max was enhanced by the dress she was wearing – a turquoise, button-up, matronly creation from the '80s, lace collar and all.  I've seen her around and talked pleasantries with her once or twice at the bus stop, and neither time was I sure that she was actually going somewhere.  Just hanging out at the bus stop.  I wasn't really sure what to do with her now that she was in my home, but it turns out I didn't have to know.  After my host mom offered her coffee and the three of us started chit-chatting over the steaming mugs (which...hey, that's hard to do when it's 95 degrees out), abuela started talking about the old days.

Normally, I'm not the one who loves hearing stories told of “way back when.”  But abuela started the telling in such a sweet way.  We're all used to hearing, “When I was your age...” or “Back in my day...” as the beginning to a story, you know?  But she started with a simple statement that stood all by itself. 

“Isn't it the way,” she said, turning to my host mom, “that now as we fall asleep at night, one remembers the times when they were young.  The dances, our dancing...”

Who knows, maybe she wasn't even interested in telling a story.  But abuela, frail and weathered but obviously still careful about her dress and appearance, had gone to some place in her mind that was irresistible.  I definitely wanted to go, too.  This lady and my host mom started telling stories and prompted by each other and by my questions, I got to hear some neat things to say the least.  Reflecting on it now, I think one of the reasons why it was so enjoyable was because it made the town today that I know seem so...normal.  Like, if the United States was my world before Peace Corps, then my town should be a different world to me.  Only, they were painting a picture of a different world within that different world.

The second thing that happened was that my English class was a lot of fun.  We had a review today because on Friday I'm giving a quiz (is this a direct result of me not having enough time to go see Harry Potter and do a class lesson?  Yes.  We may even watch part of a movie in English depending how tired I am).  We played the game matamoscas, or “flyswatters”.  I write a ton of words up on the board in English and in random order, all in a jumble.  Then the students form two teams and each team has a rolled up section of newspaper.  One person from each team steps up to the starting line and I say a word in Spanish.  Then a contestant will try to translate it, run up to the board and hit the correct word in English before their competition beats them to it.  It probably sounded like someone was getting murdered in the school because everyone was screaming and so into it.  I have quite a variety of ages, too, but everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves save for one super competitive guy who thought he'd been cheated somehow.  Whatever, 99% of the class had a blast and that made me enormously happy.

The third thing...okay, the baby that you all can see two blog posts down – she wins the award hands-down for happiest baby in the world.  Genesis is the absolute incarnation of sunshine and yeah, I mean, she cries like any normal baby or gets fidgety.  She also has a knack for trying to eat rocks when you're not paying attention although, to my credit, I'm batting a thousand for fishing them out.  Put that on my resume.  But all in all, right, Genesis is the type of baby that makes you think that procreation could be a noble pursuit and not merely the expression of deep-rooted, unconscious narcissism.  The kind of child that people fight with one another to hold and generally never want to give back to mom.  She's going to grow up and be the girl that everyone wants to be friends with because she's just got that attractive, magnet-like personality.  I actually like being around Genesis and there are people who can vouch that this statement is a 180 from my previous opinions on teeny, function-less humans.

Today at dinner Genesis looked right at me and said without hesitation, “Tía Lily.”

I bought Doky a flea collar, which has nothing to do with the rest of this post...

This week, I lost a little of the magic.  I realized that in any given day I am super stressed because I'm busy or stressed out because I'm really bored (...Should I be doing something right now?  What can I be doing?  What if people think I'm being a bum?  How many hours did I actually spend working this week?  Do they think I'm anti-social if I close my door for a nap?).  I also realized that there is no in-between.  I'd found some normalcy within that structure, but this week had a little more of a stressful-because-I'm-busy tinge to it and my vulnerability has been revealed to its fullest extent in the wake of absolute exhaustion.  So I need to equalize and it needs to be now – I'm tired of crossing off things from my to-do list only to have something else marked “urgent” tacked onto the end.  Actually, I should create a classification for tasks that require more immediate action than those that are simply “urgent” because to my inexperienced development worker eyes and ears...well...everything is “urgent”.

 So...what do I do when I'm really stressed?  Not exercise, I'm finding out...nope.  Which is weird.  I really liked going to the gym in the United States.  I liked blanking out and focusing on the rhythmic movement and the music in the headphones.  So why is it so hard to get that going again?  At first I thought it was because my only option was running and I hate running, but it's not my only option.  There's a lot of things that I could be doing and the idea of exercising is appealing, soooo...where's the disconnect?  I don't know, I'm still working on this one.

 I remember several interviews with Peace Corps in the application process and the interviewers seemed quite interested in whether or not I exercise regularly and would then talk about the stress relief, the “me-time” that it can provide.  Oops.

 I also don't meditate or do any sort of deep breathing.  If I do, I always just fall asleep.  And then I feel, like, ashamed of myself because I don't have the willpower to concentrate on nothingness and everything-ness.  Like, what does that say about my mental stamina?  I try not to think about it (I do, of course, realize that that just proves my point).

 Something that I definitely do – listen to the This American Life podcasts I had downloaded before I left.  I started doing that again yesterday and today.  Impeccably produced, This American Life acknowledges that even the most simple things are complicated, but that it's okay.  Or you know what?  Complicated might even be the wrong word.  Just...profound, deep in meaning and wonder.  It makes me hopeful about everything.  It's so satisfying to know that there are people who are interested in breaking down ideas and experiences into their most elemental parts, carefully examining why something (everything) is so important to the human experience.  This American Life validates my sensory overload in a way.  It's okay to hone in on the inconsequential because it never is.

 Staying in touch with people at home has proved to be a temptation to get a wireless internet card for my computer.  But I always thought, “Well, it's expensive to pay the monthly fee and I can always enjoy a day out of town once a week to access email and update my blog...”  But now...I mean, I'm running out of This American Life episodes.  And they're all from last year or the beginning of 2011.  I didn't get a chance to listen to about twenty of them because I was busy and now...I imagine that by the end of next week I'll be out.  Time to make the plunge and buy the internet card?  I believe so, yes.

 Another thing that I do is – maybe you can tell – write.  I write a lot anyway for work purposes...the diagnostic, letters soliciting an English teacher at my town's elementary school and donations for a bingo that the Sports Committee is using as a fundraiser.  My most recent is a letter to the Ministry of Agriculture and Cattle (MAG) asking for black heavy-duty plastic bags for the tree-planting project (the trees are still pretty small so we can't plant them, but they do need larger bags).  I like writing, and writing in Spanish is a challenge, so I have a lot of fun with the work that I'm doing in that regard.

 But something else happens when I sit down to write just for pure expression of ideas, no other purpose.  My head feels clearer and more fit to write now that it ever has, probably because I'm not switching between Word and Facebook every five minutes.  So anyway, it's really enjoyable and I find a huge release in moving things from my brain to the screen.  Thanks to everyone who reads for giving me a reason to take a break from what I'm doing and communicate with y'all  back home.

 Aaaand of course, reading.  I am eternally grateful to the Starrs for bringing me books this weekend!  Let the Ender's Game marathon begin.  This week is just going to have to be about retreating a little bit to get some perspective and I can think of no better way of doing that than assuming another, fictional perspective.  Related to this is my excursion this Thursday to Liberia to see Harry Potter in theaters, nights out of community also being a pretty excellent way to re-organize my thoughts.  And I'll probably spring for a five-dollar pedicure.

 No I won't, that's a lie.  I'm already spending six bucks on a hostel and three dollars on the movie.  And I might go to the beach Tamarindo on Tuesday.  So no pedicure, hehe.

 All in all, although this week was pretty shitty, there are ways to deal with it.  The things I've talked about right now are just personal pursuits, too...there's a ton of talking with other volunteers, talking with family at home and people in my community.  And Peace Corps administration has been more than attentive to my concerns after I called the office about some things and has encouraged me to call back with updates which was hugely comforting.  I mean, everyone in this world just wants their feelings validated, right?  I'm no different.

And anyway...you know...even on a bad day, I'm still in Costa Rica.   And even during this week that was bad, I know I've got 86 more that can be good.