sparkles

I feel like I'm writing a lot. I sure that's fine. Right?

The interesting part about living in a foreign country, or something so far out of the normal context is that here I feel like the whole east coast along with the whole west coast, everywhere I've ever lived, gets formed into one concept of home. For this, my descriptions of seasons and lifestyles, traditions and even the ideas of family and best friends can confuse Costa Ricans. Describing my life is sometimes like describing a grocery store to someone who has only ever seen outdoor markets. It's all right there, next to each other? They ask, visualizing a tomato next to some cleaning supplies, next to a magazine. There are separate departments, but it's all just one grocery store. I'm sorry if I've lost you too.

 It's a different world here. I think ive gotten over the general foreignness of it all, and now Im noticing whats unique, even within the context of Costa Rican culture. For example, today on the bus I saw a guy with a bracelet that said, "It will all start going better soon." I don't know what that is from, or why he needed to wear this hope on his wrist, but I couldn't make any sort of generalization from it. You know? When you stop exploring the culture, you discover one unique thing in a long line of billions of other unique things. Then you can react uniquely and more genuinely to each thing too, hopefully.

Yesterday we travelled for a long time to a soccer game, which we lost. On the way there and on the way back, our team bus full of guys in their 20s stopped at the airport to watch planes take off. All sorts of exclamations, and questions were asked, and people's eyes grew as they watched something they had never experienced and simply could not understand.

Before the game, I was sort of pumping myself up, but I got interrupted by another defender who I don't know so well. He asked me all the typical stuff. Where am I from, how do I like it here, etc.  Except that, when you imagine this guy, you have to imagine Andre the Giant. He's huge, and although he was asking all the nicest things, his voice was inadvertently threatening. I was conscious of it the whole time, even until the end of the conversation, as he said in his monotone voice, seemingly hollering over his own size, "One day I will invite you to my house and we will eat lunch!" It is a different world here.

Im going to have to start telling people I studied something else in college. There's nothing wrong with literature, but they want to hear something more applicable or more practical. I know I don't exude confidence at every moment, but today when I showed up to the school to open some metal drums that we're going to use as recycling bins, I didn't bring any tools. I didn't know what kind of tools they might have at the school, and I didn't really know what type of tools I would need to cut them open, so I started asking around. The principal, the cleaning lady, the cross-eyed cook in the cafeteria all got involved. All moms. Surprisingly, I didn't know the Spanish words for the 30 types of electric saws that exist here, so when I mispronounced one word, or suggested using the wrong type of saw, the ladies actually said to each other, "how cute." I told these three nervous ladies that I will be back on Friday with whatever I need to open the bins. They suggested, "You may want to come back on Saturday when one of our husbands can help you. Saws are really dangerous things, Josh, and you could cut yourself." I felt like I was 6 years old, asking my aunt to slice an apple for me. Im sure they discount my smooth skin as a North American genetic effect. They might lose sleep if they found out that I actually shave my own face. With a razor.