one year in costa rica

So much about my life now strikes me as bizarre and completely random.  The seating arrangement in my new house goes as such: one, the corner piece of a couch set that has two gaping holes in the upholstery that I’m pretty sure I found a rat bone in, two, the dilapidated reject chair from a local high school which was on its way out, and three, a fold-up beach lounger from ‘Mundo Magico’, shit you not, there is a store named magic world. The way I managed to scrounge up the seating for my new house probably pretty accurately depicts how I have met some of the most awesome people in my life over the past year, a series of random happenings that leads to something unexpected but worthwhile.  Peace Corps points a random finger on the globe and off you go. Then more finger pointing at maps and boom you’re living in the hottest region in Costa Rica that looks more like the African savannah than the rain forests touted on post cards. Then last but not least Peace Corps gifts you a host family and you’re in it for better or for worse.

 If Peace Corps has taught me anything it’s to be open to meeting friends in odd places; be it at 4 a.m. in a hostel when you’re scrounging around for ibuprofen for a splitting headache or when you are supposed to be some place in less than an hour and it’s more than a two hour hike and some kind soul offers you a ride.  Yes, perhaps these situations have potential for you to be abducted but instead your instincts tell you this stranger is a-okay, so why not?  Similar to my hodgepodge seating I have accumulated a range of worthwhile friendships in my first year here in Costa Rica.  Some of these friends were gifted to me, such as the awesome group of volunteers from training, but most were happenstances from a random gringa being plopped down in the middle of the campo in the part of Costa Rica most tourists zip past in their air conditioned cars.  So yes my life is “random” but I’ve come to really enjoy it and am thankful that living abroad has helped me break out of certain monotonies and encounter people from all walks of life. 

Guardia

I live where the road turns to dirt,

and my bike wheels bump over dusty stones.

My home has a zinc roof

that turns into a mirage at the hottest part of the day.

We sit in the yard 

during the omnipresent mid-day heat.

Everything slows, and swings on hammocks.

High school students dance the mambo

and their clothes sticks heavy to skin.

I live on a street where everyone

is brother, sister, cousin, or mother.