So long, farewell …

These past few weeks, our family has been living a series of goodbyes. The farewells began on the last day of school—a trying time because many kids won’t be returning next year, and so some of the goodbyes were forever. I picked the girls up from their final classes and saw a friend (now living in Mexico) walk by with tears in her eyes as she helped her kids leave their school of the last three years. I know I’ll be the same when we leave CDS.

The next day, friends of ours flew to Spain for the entire summer, soon followed by many other families that we have come to care about. This is a difficult aspect of living abroad: there is a cycle of comings and goings, reminiscent for Dan and me of his years spent in the Navy.

We attended a great farewell bash for three families whose company we enjoy tremendously. There were plenty of stories, lots of food, tears over videos made for each family, and loads of laughter and joy (particularly when the mariachi band came to play). Now they’re off to other adventures—new homes, travels, and more memories to make.

Meanwhile, it’s normal for many expat families to leave the country for the rainy season, and our friends who are traveling out of Costa Rica for the summer are now gone. We are among the last to remain, until tomorrow morning when the girls and I hop a plane to Wisconsin.

While the separating can be heartbreaking, I know I am blessed for having met these amazing people and sharing our Costa Rican experience with them; and I’m fortunate to know that in August, a lot of our friends will return to this beautiful country, and we’ll have fun telling each other tales about our time away.

Until then, we’re loading the suitcases and excited to go on one of our favorite vacations: a summer in Wisconsin. We’ll check back in from our home away from home.

Now … back to packing!

Where no badger has gone before …

Costa Rica holds a lot of surprises for our family, but today's was truly unexpected. I went to look out the window after hearing a massive boom of thunder and saw a big, white truck with the Badger Popcorn logo on the side. I started yelling for Dan to run to the window, and soon we were all hooting and hollering as the Bucky truck drove by. It was bizarre seeing the World's Best Badger so out of context!

Bucky in Costa Rica! Yeeehaa! (If only he'd brought us some cheese!)

Blasts from the past

You know what’s utterly groovy and totally awesome for this music-loving American who grew up in the ‘70s and ‘80s? Only two of my favorite radio stations ever—Radio Dos and Best FM—found on the airwaves of beautiful Costa Rica!

Sprinkled with bits of news—sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in English—these two gems are all about the songs of Generation X. What most interests me is that the people who choose the play lists for these stations definitely have favorites, and sometimes they are obscure or just unusual choices to air repeatedly. Months ago I started listing tunes that I hear a lot—many of which I hadn’t heard for years previously.

This list is by no means inclusive, but here are the songs that have stuck in my mind long enough and often enough to make it from brain to blog. And note that I hear a real variety of Heart, Duran Duran, and Survivor—the tunes listed are just those I hear most often.

• Alan Parsons Project: Time
  
• Andy Gibb: Shadow Dancing
  
• Bee Gees: Night Fever
  
• The Carpenters: Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft (how weird is this song, anyway?)
  
• Duran Duran: Ordinary World
  
• George Michael: Monkey
  
• Gerry Rafferty: Baker Street
  
• Glen Campbell: Rhinestone Cowboy (always wish I could call Dad on the cell when I hear this in the car)
  
• Golden Earring: Twilight Zone
  
• Heart: Alone
  
• Lionel Richie: All Night Long
  
• Martika: Toy Soldiers
  
• Musical Youth: Pass the Dutchie (on the left-hand side)
  
• Paper Lace: The Night Chicago Died and Billy Don’t Be a Hero (I had to mention both)
  
• Pet Shop Boys: West End Girls (Erin loves this song!)
  
• Sniff’n the Tears: Driver’s Seat (I love this song!)
  
• Survivor: Burning Heart

... and deserving their own mention:

Terry Jacks: Seasons in the Sun: I’ve heard this a dozen times here in CR; before this, I'd probably not heard it since 1978. Erin says "Mom, it's so sad!” and I must admit, I still find it’s as tear-jerking as it was when I listened to it on my friend Lori’s record player back in third grade.

Culture Club: I’m sure I’ve heard every Culture Club song ever made popular in the US and then some while here in Costa Rica. I'm still trying to figure out the deal with Ticos and Boy George. I’ve heard The Crying Game too, more times than I can recall (including just a couple of hours ago on the way home from the grocery store). Oh, and I once saw a CC video/movie on TV here. It’s weird.

The good news is that in addition to these curious choices for repeated play, I still get plenty of pop rock: U2, Foreigner, Van Halen, the Stones, Guns N' Roses, Def Leppard (love them!), Scorpions, Poison ... it's not all Carpenters, thank goodness!

Wanna listen to these totally terrific tunes for yourself? You can get live, streaming audio for 99.5 Radio Dos and 103.5 Best FM online by clicking the links. Which really makes me happy, because I like knowing I can enjoy these cool stations even when I’m back in the Queen City.

P is for chicken

Yesterday was a good day and a busy day: laundry, gym, going to the pool which doubled as a study session (my neighbor is learning Spanish and had a big test yesterday so I quizzed her), lunch at our friends' house, etc.

Lauren and I got home at 2:00, and around 3:00—sometime between washing beach towels and checking email—I realized I hadn't put the chicken for dinner in the oven to roast. I ran to the kitchen, pulled the chicken from the fridge, and turned on the oven.

Not sure exactly how much time I needed to roast a 2 kilo chicken (hey, at least I didn't have to look up the conversion to pounds—just over 4, by the way—so hurray for me!), I whipped out my old Betty Crocker cookbook and quickly flipped to the index. To the P section. You know, where words start with the letter P.

I was in a hurry. I was scanning at top speed. P, p, p ... c'mon, where are the entries for chicken?! I wasn't looking up poultry here, I was looking for chicken. Chicken!

Because chicken starts with a P, you know. As in pollo. As in Spanish for chicken.

Some days, the languages just get all mixed up in my brain and I’ve gotta laugh.

¡Pura pollo!

The Rain Forest Café

Parents of CDS second graders need look no further than their child’s classroom for a unique, memorable, and really fun dining experience. The Rain Forest Café, a yearly tradition for seven- and eight-year-olds, is a favorite activity of CDS families and certainly not your typical school lunch. Lucky us that we have a second grader!

The kids prepared for the café for several weeks. Lauren’s classroom was decorated like a lush, tropical rain forest, complete with a waterfall, twisting vines and branches hanging from the ceiling, plenty of colorful animals and insects, and beautiful leaves and flowers. We even saw a few iridescent hummingbirds outside the window which often enjoy the bougainvillea on the fence bordering the school.

As part of the preparations, each student studied a particular rain forest animal and wrote a detailed report about it, including illustrations and interesting facts. Lauren chose the squirrel monkey—my very favorite creature here in Costa Rica and, I think, a suitable choice for Lauren.

After the kids had been working on this project for nearly a month, Dan and I received a lovely invitation printed on homemade paper to come to the school for a special brunch served at the café. And special it was!

When we arrived, the kids were dressed as little waiters and waitresses, decked out in green aprons embroidered with “rain forest café” (what great keepsakes). Our personal waitress (guess who!) gave us $10 in rain forest money, led us to a table in the corner, and offered us a beautiful, hand-drawn menu.

The menu of 19 items included a variety of beverages, breads and muffins, fruit, main dishes, and sweets, all at reasonable prices, of course. An example of the offerings:

Rain forest mud (coffee)
Margay spot muffins
Morpho bread (banana bread)
Flying mangoes
Red eye tree frog sushi
Ocelots’ dinner (rice with palmito)
Scarlet macaw sandwiches
Piranha brownies
Jaguar spots (cookies)

Dan and I placed our order with our sweet server and she scribbled everything down on her tablet. Before she left to total our order, we had a chance to ask her questions about squirrel monkeys—because the tag on her shirt said she is an expert! Did you know that the squirrel monkeys' tails are the longest of all the monkeys’ tails? Or that squirrel monkeys give birth during the rainy season? Our server did (and now we do too)!


Our food was truly a meal's worth (especially the howler monkey pizza). Of course we asked to see the manager (Lauren’s friend Isabel—the capuchin monkey expert—who just happened to be turning eight that day) to give her our compliments. We learned she was made manager because she had the highest score on the math test and was best at helping her classmates make change with the rain forest money.

We made sure to ask plenty of questions of the girls about the rain forest, including whether the girls had their monkey tails hidden in their pants because we’re certain that secretly they are monkeys themselves. That sufficiently embarrassed them, making Dan and me feel pretty good about our parenting skills.

At the end of our meal, we tipped (with real colones this time!) our server and the café manager, and they gleefully wandered off, giggling about their tip and our teasing.

Finally we left this special café, so tickled with it all. The best part is that all Lauren has learned about the rain forest is applicable to her life here—and she has experienced it for herself. This tiny Central American country is one of the most bio-diverse regions on the planet, a home for some 10,000 species of plants and trees. We have seen and heard the squirrel, capuchin, spider, and howler monkeys in their natural habitats. The three-toed and two-toed sloths are not strangers to us. Agoutis, coatis, bats, scarlet macaws, morpho butterflies, crocodiles, the rare silky anteater, and a plethora of lizards, birds, and bugs—we’ve seen these rain forest creatures (and more!) living in the wild. It’s an opportunity hard to match and a learning experience that extends far beyond the classroom. We are living an amazing adventure!

Tag … I’m it!

I blog to journal our experiences in Costa Rica and so family and friends can see what we’re up to. (Admittedly it’s easier than sending individual emails to everyone who’s interested in our adventures; I hope nobody minds!) While I haven’t ventured far into the blogosphere—no aspirations of winning bloggy awards!—today my journal was recognized by a friend with a “tag.” I’m it!

So part of the game is to answer five questions and then link to someone else’s blog. In a detour from my typical tico-related entries, I’m playing tag today. Here goes:

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was anticipating the first birthday of my first baby and spending time with Dan, Erin, and our friends in Washington—enjoying the sun which was finally making regular appearances after a long winter and spring of rain. I suppose we were also getting ready for our move from the beautiful Evergreen State back to the Midwest.

2. What 5 things are on my to-do list?

Bake 30 muffins for the girls’ last day of school.

Finish creating scrapbook entries for three friends leaving CR soon. (Sob!)

Start my packing list for our summer vacation.

Laundry (I think this is on just about every list I’ve seen thus far).

Organize my desk.

3. What snacks do I enjoy?
Just about anything with cheese, chocolate chip cookies, veggies and dip, lime 'n chili almonds (Dan brings these back from the US for me and I'm addicted!), popcorn … I'm not too picky!

4. What things would I do if I were a millionaire?
Assuming this is a tax-free million to play with ... Invest, pay off our mortgage (if we had one—we don’t at the moment), drop a bundle into the girls’ college funds, donate, buy a few frivolous things, and travel, travel, travel!! And then travel! Think I can do all that for a million?

5. Where have I lived? (OK, here goes!)

San Jose, California

La Crosse, Wisconsin

Onalaska, Wisconsin

Madison, Wisconsin

Guadalajara, Mexico (studied there one summer—does that count?)

Athens, Georgia

Jacksonville, Florida

Mayport, Florida

Everett, Washington

Loveland, Ohio

Liberty Township, Ohio

Santa Ana, Costa Rica

Now I have to tag someone, so I’m going to choose my new-to-blogging friend Lori. This will give her an easy entry to write! Have fun!

She’ll get you—and your little dog, too!

Who’s lean and mean and green all over? That’s Erin, our resident actress and Country Day’s answer to the Wicked Witch of the West in the elementary school play, The Wizard of Oz.

Erin joined drama club at the start of the year and fell in love with acting. Led by Mr. Large—the best principal ever—the club learned a lot about the theater and being on stage. For months they’ve been rehearsing the Wiz of Oz for their late May performance.

We recently went to the show, just over an hour long, and it was good entertainment. Erin was a very animated witch, and everyone in the auditorium got a kick out of her evil laugh. (Admittedly, she has practiced this at home for years—I always thought it was a bit “mad scientist-like” but it worked great for this role too.)

Our favorite scene is when Dorothy and her friends throw water on the witch and she “melts” into a puddle. I think our drama queen really rose to the occasion: “What a world, what a world!” Enjoy the video of her demise. I think you’ll agree Erin must be one Oz’s tallest witches ever! (By the way, if you listen carefully, you can hear Lauren ask at the very end of the clip—a bit gleefully—“Did she die?!”)

After the play and much well-deserved applause, the kids streamed off the stage for the cast party (aka wild food fest). At one point I saw floppy Scarecrow’s plate held several cookies, a massive brownie, and one lonely cucumber; gotta wonder the fate of that little cuke slice.

¡Pura teatro!

That flu-like feeling

Today I'm offering a shout out to P&G for NyQuil. Thank you, Vicks people, for this wonderful concoction.

For years our family has had a running joke that when Dan travels internationally, somebody gets sick. He left for Cincinnati on Monday, and by Monday night I was feeling completely miserable with the flu. Ugh! It's unfortunate for it to be this week because my schedule has been cram-packed with end-of-the-school-year stuff. Yesterday I felt lousy enough that I missed Lauren's assembly and dropped Erin off at the fourth grade state fair last night only to leave minutes later. Really a bummer because the state fair is great—with a play, music, food, and interesting booths—and I wound up in bed with a fever, chills … you know the drill.

Truth be told, our family has been very healthy here in comparison to in the United States. Erin, who normally misses at least a few days of school a year due to colds and sore throats, has (knock on wood!) a perfect attendance record this school year with only five days remaining. The only cold she had last winter developed on the plane to the US in December.

Lauren has had one ear infection and missed an additional day of school when we thought she might have the chicken pox and I had to take her to the doctor. (She didn't—it was some unspecified allergic reaction that looked like pox but disappeared with allergy meds. My friend calls these unidentifiable rashes “jungle rot.”) Oh, and my Spanish-speaking friends are trying to understand what the “chicken” has to do with the “pox.” Lots of fun explaining that one.

Dan and I have done really well.* This is the first flu to hit any of us here, I think.

My theory as to why we have been so much healthier in Costa Rica is that we are not breathing re-circulated air each day. The air isn't hot and dry as it is in Ohio during winter. We don't have everything shut tightly with the AC running in the summer. Everything here is open to the outside—our house, the schools, shops, the gym, restaurants—there is always fresh air flowing throughout buildings.

The best news is that Dan escaped the tornadoes in Cincinnati (I hope all of you there are safe and healthy!) and called me from Atlanta about an hour ago. He’s on his way home and will be here by mid-afternoon. Ah … it’s never easy being sick as a mom, but it’s a lot easier when my honey is here to help take care of me and bring me tea.

Now back to bed!

*Dan just read the blog and reminded me that he had a terrible case of the flu in early February. I told him I would amend the blog but that I plead illness and fatigue as reasons why I didn't recall this during the original posting of this entry.

Additionally, Dan would like me to let everyone know that the reason we get sick when he leaves is because he is the glue that holds this family together. His words, not mine. Maybe someday Dan will post a blog of his own! (Is everyone holding their breath???)

First communion and the fantastic fiesta

Yesterday was one of the most wonderful, memorable, and fun days we’ve spent here in the valley in our time of living in Costa Rica.

What an honor and blessing that we were invited to a first communion for Lauren’s best friend, Isabel—and the party that followed was incredible!

At 10:30 the communion service began at the Parroquia Inmaculada Concepción de Pozos, Santa Ana—the large orange and yellow church just a mile or so from our house. The weather was gorgeous (no rain, thankfully!) and a gentle breeze blew through the wide sanctuary with high ceilings and huge, gorgeous sprays of fresh, fragrant flowers. (I will miss the flowers from Costa Rica when we leave here!)

The church was filled with proud family members and friends, dressed in their finest for such a special day. There were five kids from Lauren’s class celebrating first communion. The boys dressed in navy suits with white communion bows on their sleeves, but the girls, outfitted in beautiful white gowns with lace and ribbons, looked like tiny brides and clearly outshone everyone in the church.

Erin and Lauren didn’t understand much of the service, though Dan and I quietly explained to them what was happening. Erin said she could pick out bits and pieces of Spanish from things familiar to her in English, such as the Lord’s Prayer and when the priest blessed the bread and wine.

It was really special for our family to participate in this meaningful cultural experience that was so important to our friends.

After church, around noon, we went to a celebration at Isabel’s house. This was hands-down one of the best parties we’ve ever been to. Our friends really know how to throw an incredible fiesta!
As soon as we walked in, Isabel (the parent—she and her daughter share a first name) let us know we’d have plenty of opportunity to practice our Spanish: there was one couple from Chile and everyone else was from Spain. Although the conversation often became so animated and lively that Dan and I had a hard time following, it didn’t matter. We had each other and enjoyed observing and being a part of the day.

At the start of the party, Isabel and Álvaro asked us—in all seriousness—“ You didn’t eat breakfast, did you?” Apparently it is expected that nobody eats before these parties. Dan and I just looked at each other, realizing this was going to be a real food-affair. I would be remiss in not describing the feast, because the food was incredible and just kept coming and coming.

There was tasty, grilled chorizo (sausages a bit smaller than brats) and choripán (a sausage in a small, sliced loaf of bread), mussels, Spanish olives, and nuts. After the chorizo was served we enjoyed wedges of grilled and seasoned provolone on small pieces of bread.

For the main course: grilled chicken, steak, chimichurri (a favorite condiment of mine), pickled onions, salad, and baked potatoes.

Later came paper-thin crepes with strawberries, peaches, and caramel—and three sweet sauces to drizzle on top.

We didn’t imagine there could be more food, but later in the day we were served chocolate-covered strawberries, a tortilla de patatas—a very traditional Spanish dish made of potatoes, onion, egg, and olive oil—and then the best gazpacho I could ever imagine. My friend promised me she’d teach me how to make these. She is an awesome cook!

In addition to the conversation and eating (and eating!), the kids played hide-and-seek, went swimming, ate ice cream and popcorn, and took funny pictures with Isabel’s new camera. Dan and I loved the music which ranged from '70s disco to '80s pop to salsa and merengue.

We danced and sang (including a rendition of a Grease music mix that thoroughly embarrassed Erin—isn’t that a hallmark of good parenting?), and at one point Dan and I watched as four Spaniards twirled, clapped, and stamped to flamenco music—and we clapped too, in appreciation.

Shortly after 7pm we said our goodbyes, reluctant to leave but needing to get our exhausted kids to bed. Admittedly we didn’t stay up much later than the girls, having had such an amazing day. We will reminisce about yesterday many times in our lives, I am sure. We are so grateful to have met this wonderful Spanish family whose company we enjoy so much.

Here comes the rain again

A couple of weeks ago the rains began, and we knew the green season had arrived. Now? It's been raining for days, literally. We've had at least 72 hours of rain—steady rain, not just drizzle—without a breather thanks to a bunch of weather factors (including Tropical Storm Alma) that came together to keep us soaked here in Santa Ana. I haven't seen the mountains for days, and while I know our beautiful valley is surrounded by them, they're hidden by heavy, gray, water-laden clouds.



Dan's coworker is trapped in her home in Escazú and sent this photo, showing the water rushing down the gutter and standing on the road.

On the good side, everything is green and growing, and the temperature is in the mid-60s today, which is so comfortable. Last night we all fell asleep early, listening to the rain outside our open windows and resting in the cool air.

Gone to Kentucky and Indiana

Nah, we didn’t make a trip to the Midwest this past weekend, but we did the next best thing for two gringos living in Central America … we went to dinner and a movie, of course.

On Friday night, Dan and I stopped at the huge food court at the mall outside the movie theater for a quick meal. Usually we go for tacos, but for some reason both of us broke out into grins when I mentioned the KFC on the far side of the court. Ohhh, it was so good—the food tasted just like KFC at home! It was the first time we'd had KFC since arriving here, and we may have to stop back again.

Funny thing is, the Costa Ricans call KFC "Kentucky." Last summer our relocation counselor told us that she loves Kentucky, and it took us a minute to realize she meant the original-recipe, biscuit-making, potatoes-and-gravy Kentucky and not the bluegrass, basketball-loving state.

Here’s another for instance: A boy in Erin's class mentioned to the teacher that he went to Kentucky over the weekend, and the kids' teacher, an American, was skeptical.

"Well yeah, it's just food," the kid said, and then someone chimed in that Kentucky is a chicken restaurant. It looks just like the KFCs at home too, complete with the image of Colonel Sanders and the slogan, "para chuparse los dedos"—which is about as close to finger-lickin' good as things get here in Ticolandia.

After our dinner we walked to the theater; the new Indiana Jones movie premiered here on Friday night! We don’t go to the movies too often, but it’s always fun when we do—especially because regular tickets cost only four bucks, about half the price of a movie in the US last time I looked.

The movie was showing in several theaters, both dubbed and with subtitles. Sometimes we get a kick out of the subtitles (we can’t help but read them as we’re watching) and the translations. For example, in the Harry Potter movies, Voldemort is Señor Tenebroso (Lord Tenebrous, Dismal, Gloomy, etc.). I don’t know why they don’t just call him Voldemort. I mean, it’s his name—it’s not like Voldemort means anything in English, right?

Anyway, we enjoyed Indy, as silly as it was. Sometimes complete suspension of disbelief is a great escape after a long week—and two kids from the US enjoyed a virtual trip home for a few hours.

Slightly rattled

We’ve felt a few earthquakes since we’ve been here, but yesterday’s was the strongest of them. At about 4:45 pm I was sitting at my desk (IMing with Dan, actually) when things shook violently but briefly—only a couple of seconds—and by the time I realized why my chair was shaking and rolling backwards, it was over. Dan and I simultaneously IMed each other: “Earthquake!”

The shock was centered near Santiago de Puriscal and, according to the Observatorio Vulcanológico y Sismológico de Costa Rica, was a 4.8 magnitude. It didn’t knock anything off the shelves, though it did cause a separation between two floor boards in our family room. Not enough to be very dangerous, but certainly enough to add interest to an otherwise ordinary afternoon.

Beware the wily lime

Something interesting happens when a person lives nine degrees above the equator, forgets to wash her hands after juicing raw limes, and then ventures into the bright sunshine. She ends up with a horrific burn on her skin, leaving it raw, pink, and very tender.

I’m relieved to say this didn’t happen to me, but unfortunately it did happen to a friend of mine. The chemicals from the limes were activated by the strong sun, leaving her with a nasty looking case of phytophotodermatitis—a lime burn—that is still painful weeks later. Ouch!

I have a love affair with limes, and thankfully they are plentiful and cheap here, so I use them a lot. Now I’m extra careful about washing up after handling citrus fruit. I’m more interested in eating ceviche than becoming it!

Ribs and cake (aka: basketball injuries, part two)

Yesterday, Dan joined a bunch of guys from the office to play basketball for a company program encouraging everyone to get active and be healthy. The games were held in Escazu at a local gym. It was fun to visit with friends and see the brightly painted floor, the refs in their blazing orange shirts, and the scorekeepers flipping papers with numbers on them for the score.

That was the good part. The bad part—other than Dan’s team getting walloped—was that basketball is just not a big sport around here, and most of the guys on the court didn’t seem to have much experience. This led to some amazingly wild passes soaring through the air and, unfortunately, a lot of elbows and bodies flying too. And not much refereeing!

I told Dan before we left for the gym that my goal was to avoid a trip to the ER at the hospital. We managed that, but halfway through the game I saw Dan sitting under the basket pleading with the ref for a call. I knew he was hurt when he got up and didn’t have his usual spunk—and sure enough, he injured a rib again (on the other side this time).

Erin felt sorry for her dad, so when we got home she baked him a cake from scratch in hopes that he’d feel better.

Thankfully this morning the rib is just sore and it’s not nearly so bad as last time, but I told Dan that his days of b-ball in the land of flying elbows are over.

Pump it up

We now have a constant supply of water here at our Costa Rican casa. Yippee! The last water outage spurred me into action: I spoke a few times with the landlords’ representative and explained the situation, and eventually they agreed to pay the nearly $1K to have a pump installed. What a relief!

We have a tank under our driveway (we’d always wondered what the metal lid was covering), and a plumber came out to drain it, sanitize it, and fill it. It has a lift arm and float, just like a toilet—which I excitedly pointed out to the plumber (as if he didn't know, oh, and I'm sure he was highly impressed that I knew the Spanish word for toilet).

Once the tank was filled, the guy installed the small pump next to the hot water heater. This made a huge mess in my storage room and laundry room—there was water everywhere. I wasn’t too upset though, mainly because I was giddy with the thought of taking a high-pressure shower and not having it wane to a trickle, and there are also drains in the floors making it easier to clean. (Thank goodness, since the sink the washing machine hose empties into overflows frequently because the hose pops out of the drain—but that’s another story in itself).

On Tuesday, the construction foreman stopped by the house to let me know the water would be turned off for a couple of hours. I gave him a big smile and told him it is No Problema here because of our shiny new pump. Sure enough, I soon heard the pump spring into action and I happily went about my day without a water worry.

¡Pura agua!

Swimming for Sports Day

It was so good to see my girls swim competitively again—even if only for one race.

The kids recently had Sports Day at school, complete with an opening ceremony and pledge, indoor events, track and field, and relays at the pool. All the elementary school kids participated in at least one event, and (not surprisingly) my two were chosen to swim. (A few kids were missing from Lauren’s class, so she also did a free throw shoot and something else which I didn’t get to see and can’t remember what it was.)

Sometimes cultural differences are glaringly obvious to me at school functions, and this was no exception. Guess which parents were sitting on the side of the pool, socializing quietly as they watched the kids? Well, certainly not the Americans. No, we were the moms and dads at the end of the pool (for the best view, of course) enthusiastically cheering the kids on. We weren’t obnoxious, but I will admit, we US moms and dads are generally a spirited, competitive bunch.

After all the games and races the kids got medals—bronze, silver and gold. They’re not even cheesy and have the school logo on one side with the event and date on the other; they are great mementos for the girls.

Look who’s eight!

It's just Lauren’s luck that May 1 is a national holiday—Día de los Trabajadores (Labor Day)—here in Costa Rica. Meaning my brand-spankin’-new eight-year-old had a day off from school on her birthday. What a fun twist of fate!

Lauren, Erin, and L's classmate Isabel—her best amiga and partner-in-crime—spent the day together to celebrate, starting with lunch at Wendy’s. (This was the birthday girl’s choice, of course, because what better meal is there than chicken nuggets and fries for a kid turning eight?)

Next stop was Go Bananas, an indoor playground just a couple of kilometers from our house. This drop-the kids-off facility has plenty of space for the girls to run and climb, so I left them to play while I parked myself in a cozy, padded armchair with a drink and a novel outside one of my favorite restaurants, just around the corner from the playground.

Lauren’s teacher stopped by for lunch shortly before I was leaving to pick up the girls. She asked us to come back and say hi, so I told the girls I had a surprise for them as we made our way to the restaurant. Of course Lauren got a big hug from Ms. Fernández, and she and Isabel acted all goofy when they saw their teacher outside of the classroom (yes, teachers are normal people too!), while Erin was just relieved that her teachers were nowhere in sight on vacation day.



Everyone enjoyed homemade birthday cupcakes at our house (we sang two lovely renditions of the birthday song in English and Spanish), and then the girls went swimming so Lauren could try out her new goggles and float.

We were worn out by the end of the day, and everyone got to bed early since the kids still had school on Friday (and I did too, since I was chaperoning a field trip). We missed having Dan here—he’s in Cincinnati for work—but Lauren says her eighth birthday was still just ducky (her word, of course).

As I’m sure I say every year, it’s hard to believe my baby is getting so big! ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Niña!

Fish out of water

Fair warning: I'm cranky, and so are my kids. Even Lauren, and that's saying something.

I've got all sorts of nice, cheery things to blog about—and I'll have to do it another time—but tonight the only thing on my mind is that we have no water in our house. Again. Yesterday we didn't have water until nearly 3:00 in the afternoon. (Around lunchtime I gave in and took a shower at a friend's house.) Today I got up at 5:00 to take a shower, do a load of laundry, and clean up the kitchen before my busy day was underway. No water—at 5:00 in the morning!

I had to feed the kids, make lunches, and get out of here by 7:30 because I went on a field trip with Erin's class. Thankfully I had set enough water aside to wash my face and take a sponge bath, but now, it's 8:30 on Friday night and we have zero agua. Nada. The whole neighborhood is out of water, and I've got a guy coming tomorrow to see if he can install a pump so we can avoid this happening again. (I’m pretty sure the homeowner is going to consent to having this done, thankfully.)

Meanwhile, I'm jonesing for a shower and crossing my fingers that the pipes will start gurgling soon and we can cook, clean, shower, flush, wash, and all those good things by the morning.

Isn't it ironic, since I just mentioned a couple of posts ago how this happens frequently enough and I usually roll with the punches? Not this time. It appears I've reached my breaking point, and while I know there are worse things in the world, I feel justified in venting my pent-up frustrations. Dan's not here to fuss with/listen to me, so the blog is tonight's therapy session. Thank goodness we still have electricity!

Oh, and as a parting shot, it is raining outside. Not enough of a downpour that I can run to my yard with a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap, but enough to tease us all with fat drops of water on the windows. Bah!

Road rash

Temps this week have been the hottest we can recall in the valley—ideal days for swimming. Unfortunately for Erin, she came home from school on Thursday with big, blood-stained pads of gauze taped to both knees. The kids’ school is built on the side of a hill, and Erin was heading down a concrete sidewalk when she wiped out. Both knees have two nasty scrapes (and this picture is three days later; thankfully the knees are starting to look better).

Of course there’s no way we’re letting her in the pool, even with the bandages on (I’m so glad I bought the box of super-large Band-Aids last summer). The ban on swimming was really the pits yesterday when Erin’s friends were visiting our neighborhood pool. Dan and Lauren went to swim while Erin and I made cookie bars for this week’s lunches.

Nothing like a warm chocolate chip treat (yes, we splurged on pricey chocolate chips—hey, desperate times call for desperate measures) out of the oven to soothe what ails a 10-year-old.

Facing frustrations

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself.” —George Bernard Shaw

“But what if a reasonable person is trying to adapt to something unreasonable?” —Me

A friend told me that in the United States one dies of stress, while here in Costa Rica one dies of frustration. We laugh about it, but there is a grain of truth to this notion. While life is markedly more hurried at home, here it’s important—if one wants to maintain some semblance of sanity—to adjust to the slower culture and adopt a more tolerant, patient attitude.

Accustomed to the efficiency of the US, I get frustrated at having a dishwasher sit on the kitchen floor for two weeks while construction workers show up at random to fix the hole in the wall—you know, the hole where the dishwasher connects to the plumbing that was installed five centimeters too high according to the plumber?

Adapting is going for nearly an entire weekend without water, which is what just happened to us—and not for the first time. Costa Rica runs on hydroelectric power, and apparently the water is sometimes shut off during the dry season to help avoid brownouts (which we have also experienced). In the US, I’d be on the phone with the water company trying to find out what’s going on and how quickly water service will resume. Here, the idea of calling with that question is nearly laughable. The water will go on when it comes on, and we just go with the flow (or lack thereof).

Remember our waiting list for a landline telephone? We’re still on the list. We honestly do not think we will ever have a landline while we are living here. I don’t like it, but I don’t dwell on it, even though cell phone service is spotty. See how well I’m adjusting?

The ultimate in aggravation is surely the lack of maps and street signs in this country. And knowing that you could stop and ask for directions and, because a Costa Rican does not want to hurt anyone’s feelings or be unhelpful, the directions you receive may be wrong.

Just when I think I’ve truly embraced the Pura Vida lifestyle, something happens—not even necessarily maddeningly frustrating, it could be something minor—and the dam of built-up frustration bursts, while my all-American self comes shining through. I share what’s bugging me with Dan or an American friend in Costa Rica and we shake our heads, commiserate, and eventually laugh at the absurdity of it all. Culture shock isn’t always the extreme sense of anxiety you might imagine; in fact, it happens routinely here to us as we go about our daily lives.