I'm growing as a person.

During my time in Costa Rica, I have had to make some cultural adjustments. One, the language isn’t the same. That’s been a problem once in a while. Two, everyone is overly affectionate here. I will need to break the habit of kissing everyone I meet asap when I get back to the states. Three, I’m used to running around random dogs, chickens, roosters, children in the streets. It’s going to be strange to not see that anymore. Four, the food. I was always a carb queen, but this is unreal. I eat rice about six times a day and a piece of bread for lunch. A little excessive but it’s good stuff. Finally, five: I had to learn how to dance.

I know what you are thinking. Katie, you’ve always been an amazingly graceful and inspiring dancer. I know. Well, dancing here is different. People here know how to merengue. I mean everyone—children, old people, people out in clubs, people in the kitchen, they know how to do it. Which is amazing, because it’s basically a partner dance where you are improvising the whole time. How you manage to stay in sync with your partner is beyond me. Anyways, when we went out on Friday night, I decided this was a cultural hurdle I was going to overcome. And I did.

Well let me back up. It all started after the zoo when we decided to go out dancing. Marge and I headed to her house so we could get ready to go out. She wasn't joking, she does live in a mansion. Her mom's closet is like the size of my bedroom in Frederick. She gave us whatever we wanted to wear. I opted for a semi-conservative black strapless dress. Marge wore a skirt and pink top. Katey wore a skirt and heels. We drank a lot of coffee and danced to glee for a while, and then Marge's cousin came to pick us up. He's an awkward fellow. Decent English for a Costa Rican, but just kind of awkward. He's probably upper twenties. Anyways he was somehow in charge of taking us out. We decided upon the Costa Rican equivalent of Tiki bar... it's been closed all season and it was the big reopening that night. Parking was insane. I was terrified I would be over/under dressed, but I was fine. Hispanic women like to show a lot of skin... my skirt was far more conservative. I didn't stand out or anything though.

So the dancing. The bands were LEGIT. Imagine big bands, full brass, guys singing are not only good, but dance 1950s style the whole time. It was unbelievable. Of course, everyone was dancing merengue. Seriously, if you don't know how it looks, look it up. Obviously, I really wanted to learn. However, you need a partner. That was kind of a problem. Everyone seems to arrive with said partner, and I arrived with two white chicks. To make matters worse, cousin dude was starting to hit on the guy next to me. I mean really. So typical. Anyways, eventually some guy walks up and asks me to dance. Now, let's be for real. I am not usually too forgiving to random guys that try to talk to me. I'm barely nice to guys I know that try to talk to me. However, for some reason I decided to give this guy a chance. He was far from my normal standards: at least one article of jcrew/banana republic, shaved in the last 24 hours, unbearably left-wing (why I always bring not-so-straight guys home), and yet, I was like, whatever. Let's dance. I passed my drink off to Marge and headed to the dance floor.

It was the most fun I've ever had. He was a remarkably good dancer, and I picked up the steps pretty fast. It involves a lot of turns, and I love turns when I'm in a skirt. I was cracking up with sub-par standards guy. He didn't really speak English, but he could kick me in the right direction. It worked out. We danced all night.

FORTUNATELY sub-par guy peaced out with his friends, because it didn't look like gay cousin was going to save me if things got awkward. We piled into the car and headed home around 3. I banged on the door (I knew Merlyn was the only one home) and of course the alarm system goes off. I muttered some choice words to myself. Fortunately she came pretty quickly to the door. She was laughing and yelling at me for coming in so late at the same time. I was hysterical and speaking Spanglish a million miles an hour. Fail.

The next day (time check: 3 hours later) Merlyn and I went to meet the family for a Quinceñera. It was on a farm out in the end of the world and it was FANTASTIC. The service was in a church with no air conditioning and way too many dogs. Afterwards, the service moved to a big open farmhouse thing for the party. Imagine-- lights, fog machines, lavender plastic figurines everywhere... it was awesome. The food was great, Dad and I laughed about me breaking into the house, and we all danced. Fortunately I had some skills from the night before, so Dad and I could jam out to merengue. Eventually we were pooped. Back at the farm, I settled down and dreamt of the last time I showered (Friday morning). Around 6 am, I woke up and played around the farm. I heard a sad sounding animal nearby, and soon discovered it's head on the kitchen table. Considering I'm basically vegetarian in the real world, I was so proud of myself when I calmly ate pig for lunch. As I sat there eating, the head was still on the table. And other organs. Lordy.

After lunch, Michael and I went for a long horseback adventure. Shockingly, I have never ridden a horse extensively before. It's really not a hard skill. You hold on and turn the horse one way or another. We went to see a new calf that had been born earlier in the day, and we meandered through coffee and pineapple fields. It was unreal. No worries- there are pictures. I look nothing short of rustic.

Eventually we headed back to the house. I was SO HAPPY when I saw that fish was on the menu for dinner. I could not do pig again. I wasn't feeling great later in the evening... I think it was semi-stress paired with no allergy medicine on the farm. My shower helped, and then I was too distracted by work to notice any more sneezes.

Obviously, I’ve made cultural adjustments. By the end of this post, it’s apparent that I’m not the same person I was in the states. I mean, merengue, horses?!?!?!?, eating meat? I know. It’s been a learning experience. I think my greatest accomplishment is merengue, though. It makes me feel native. I WILL NEED A PARTNER WHEN I RETURN. SUBMIT YOUR APPLICATIONS VIA EMAIL.

Alright, that’s all, time to teach. Adios.