second week

I've got my computer set up now so that I can access the internet from home. I could act as if I figured this all out myself, but the truth is the people at the Institute set up my computer so that all I have to do is hook it up to the phone line, and even then for a few days I was plugging into the wrong place and so nothing happened. I am relieved, though, because the keyboard at the internet cafe had me baffled and I was under the impression that I was spending a lot of money there. Finally I figured out the cost was something like 50 cents an hour. Still, it is very nice to write from home where the neighborhood cat, who can come in through a hole in my screen door, is curled up on the couch asleep. Last night the cat came in, crawled up behind my head on the back of the couch, purred loudly and then bit me on the head.

Today we learned the future tense in Spanish. This is quite exciting but of course in order to utilize it I must be able to remember. And remembering seems not to be my strong suit. We shall see. I have learned, in just 4 classes, an unbelievable amount. Still, sitting in class with my wonderful teacher who is patient and speaks ever so slowly and clearly, and actually speaking and understanding Spanish out in the world are two very different things. I am much better in the classroom. In taxis and such it seems my pronunciation is problematic. And no matter how much progress I have made, when working with about 10 verbs and maybe 100 nouns, one's ability to communicate is somewhat restricted. (That's on the good days when I can remember the nouns and verbs.)

As always, the weather is fabulous--high 80s during the days, 70s at night. Every day I take the bus home from school. Two buses, actually, the second one called dulce nombre. Sweet name. I like the idea of the bus better than the reality, mostly because that bus in particular runs so rarely and I must stand a long, long time waiting. Today a bunch of school children rode for a while on it, and when they got out, the bus driver patted each of them on the head.

I am settling in, then. It's hard not to love this place with the fabulous weather and kind, kind people. But I do miss home and my family there, the daily world that's so familiar to me.

So: send me letters! Email! Keep in touch.

arrival

well, here I am. Today the temperature is about 90 and the sun, as always, blazes down. I havent left the San Jose/Alajuela area yet, but this part of Costa Rica is lovely. On the way to school everyday, the bus takes us through the sugarcane fields where the men work with their machetes. My apartment is surrounded by palm trees, bougainvillia and wysteria.

I am settling in well, but must contend always with my own lack of Spanish. And so many things I take for granted at home dont work the same way here. Its funny to bump up against my own expectations. I can do the internet from this cafe, but my house is really about ten minutes from town and so must take the bus or taxi in to even check email.

I am homesick, but not too much. It helps to talk to Maggie and Mike every night, though that can{t continue for the whole visit.

more soon.

oh my

Two days to go and then I'm on my way, though last night I dreamed that I was there and being shown around a completely empty apartment where I was supposed to live for the next 9 weeks. No, I don't have anxiety.

But really I think I'm pretty close to ready. If I get any nuttier about things (how many razor blades will I need? Should I bring food for breakfast on Sunday?) my family will not be the least bit ambivilent about my leaving, they'll just be relieved.

In the meantime, the list of tasks to do/items to buy grows shorter and more puzzling. The CAPA person said we'll need a flashlight. A flashlight? Really? Or just maybe? An expensive small one from the Eddie Bauer selection at Target? Or the cheaper big ones I couldn't find at Target? Do I really need it? Someone else suggested I bring bubblewrap, but I can't remember why and I can't figure out how it'd be worth the space in my luggage. And a travel alarm. 20 bucks? Will I need to wake up that much? I don't know. Locks for my luggage? Forget things like all those shots, too, as I didn't get any and now it's too late. Malaria? Well, let's just hope that 100% deet stuff I got doesn't kill me AND keeps the disease-laden bugs away.

In rereading this I realize that nothing is more boring than someone else's anxieties. Except maybe someone else's dreams, and I've covered that too.

So, next post from Costa Rica. I will be to say, when I get there:
Me llamo Cullen. Tengo uno perro y dos gatos. Donde es el banos?

that's about all. wish me luck.

Getting ready

Maggie leaves for Argentina today and her adventure lasts until the 15th; then Emily and I leave on the 19th for Costa Rica. That means in the next 12 weeks, I'll only see Maggie for about 14 days. At this point in time, that fact seems unendurable to me. (Can a fact be endurable?) Who would guess it'd be so hard to be away from a 17- year-old? I think of the great Loudon Wainwright song, written when his 16 year-old daughter moved in with him, "I'd Rather Be Lonely." Let's face it, lots of times parents of teenagers would rather not be around those teenagers and certainly the teenagers almost always would prefer to be someplace other than with their parents. Even so, whatever that essential sticky glue is that binds us together is, family means proximity. And I actually like to be in the busy orbit of Maggie, all the comings and goings and plans and energy. I will miss her so.

And yet I think these adventures, hers and mine, will be good for us both. She will learn to do things for herself that I often do, and I will learn to let her do them. (That might be the key part of all this--my letting go.) I begin to worry about the little things: will she remember to make her lunch? take her homework to school? And the bigger things: who will help her buy her prom dress? Will she talk her dad into spending way too much money on it? (very likely.) But I am leaving for 9 weeks, and leaving means being gone, and being gone means I don't get to make the decisions around here and that means: everyone will be ok. Everything will be ok. And we'll all learn a new way.

I've also been thinking about living alone and all the things I'll have to learn about myself. There won't be anyone there to distract me or to blame. There also won't be anyone there to laugh with and help with dinner. I'm most afraid of two things: that I'll be so lonely I can't stand it AND that a critter will get in my apartment. I will be utterly unable to handle that. I can do bugs, luckily, but mammals and birds, no way. I don't know why I think this might happen--probably because it's the one thing I fear most. A bird. A bat. Oh....

As for the loneliness, well, I'm just going to have to deal with that as it comes. Having never lived alone, I don't have a clue what to expect.

Ok, I have much to do today to get ready for my teaching next week and to put Maggie on the plane at 2:30 this afternoon. Every single time I've said goodbye to my kids at the airport, I've stood there watching them disappear and thought: how can I let them go?

So I can see them smile as they return.