Inolvidable
There is something about the rhythm of Spanish, its soft lilt, with which I have fallen madly in love. There is no turning back, I have overwhelmingly lost my tongue to this language and my heart to these ticos y ticas, this place.
I have been here for five days now. The complete and beautiful nature of my all morning Spanish classes, constant practice, Spanish skypes with my dad and coming home to a tico family creates an immersion that already has my mouth fumbling when asked to speak English. All I can do is put my fingers to my lips with wonder and shake my head in disbelief when I'm unable to remember the word "keys" rather than llaves.
My mornings are founded on an incredible peace as that equatorial sun comes shining through the modest lace of my curtains at 5am. Every time I am surprised at how quickly my feet find the floor, ready for the adventure that arrives in those rays of light. Quick showers with the water pressure of a soft rain, but oh so warm, and it's dashing down the stairs to give muchos besos (many kisses) to my mama tica y my sisters, and a "buenos dias!" to my housemate Kyndra. She and I settle into comfortable conversation over a carefully prepared breakfast, always with fruit carefully arranged into a design - my favorite gesture of love.
After refusing our help one more time, mama tica sends out the door with many wishes for "un buen dia" before Kyndra and I fumble with the locks of the two doors (though we're getting better) on our way out. Seis cuadras (six blocks) to the University full of the fresh air of new life and the familiarity of seeing the same neighbors out in the streets.
Immersion class lasts from 8 to 12 and then we're free to explore our new world of San Jose.
The afternoons and evenings have been an endless greeting of new experiences: purchasing a Costa Rican cell phone, a dance class of merengue and salsa, a class of Costa Rican cooking, learning our way to and from the bar, old friend conversations with strangers, taxi rides, visiting the National Museum, realizing that tico men will steal kisses and understanding the true power of being able to walk everywhere.
There is something about the serendipity of all of this culture, this life, the heart of this place and what it has already done for me that I cannot find the words in any language to describe. From arriving at the airport terrified that no one was there to pick me up and falling into the biggest hug when my chauffeur found me, to learning that my immersion teacher loves poetry as much as I do and after a discussion of Neruda, she surprised me with a new book of poetry to read today.
Perhaps the water is not safe, because I fear that I may return a more hopeless romantic than before I left. But forgive me, for I will continue to drink deeply of all that this world has set before me.
Pura vida. As for that, I do not yet know what it means, and perhaps I never will fully understand it until I can no longer spin with my arms open wide in this tropical air. But I think it comes close to my heart to whisper promises when my mama tica pulls me in for the hug I always forget with our kisses. Even when I wake late and am dashing for the door, her smile is wide and her arms are open for me, slowing my world.
Eyes may say that there is less here, but my heart softly shakes its head at their ignorance as it fills my open palms, ready to be given away.
I have been here for five days now. The complete and beautiful nature of my all morning Spanish classes, constant practice, Spanish skypes with my dad and coming home to a tico family creates an immersion that already has my mouth fumbling when asked to speak English. All I can do is put my fingers to my lips with wonder and shake my head in disbelief when I'm unable to remember the word "keys" rather than llaves.
My mornings are founded on an incredible peace as that equatorial sun comes shining through the modest lace of my curtains at 5am. Every time I am surprised at how quickly my feet find the floor, ready for the adventure that arrives in those rays of light. Quick showers with the water pressure of a soft rain, but oh so warm, and it's dashing down the stairs to give muchos besos (many kisses) to my mama tica y my sisters, and a "buenos dias!" to my housemate Kyndra. She and I settle into comfortable conversation over a carefully prepared breakfast, always with fruit carefully arranged into a design - my favorite gesture of love.
After refusing our help one more time, mama tica sends out the door with many wishes for "un buen dia" before Kyndra and I fumble with the locks of the two doors (though we're getting better) on our way out. Seis cuadras (six blocks) to the University full of the fresh air of new life and the familiarity of seeing the same neighbors out in the streets.
Immersion class lasts from 8 to 12 and then we're free to explore our new world of San Jose.
The afternoons and evenings have been an endless greeting of new experiences: purchasing a Costa Rican cell phone, a dance class of merengue and salsa, a class of Costa Rican cooking, learning our way to and from the bar, old friend conversations with strangers, taxi rides, visiting the National Museum, realizing that tico men will steal kisses and understanding the true power of being able to walk everywhere.
There is something about the serendipity of all of this culture, this life, the heart of this place and what it has already done for me that I cannot find the words in any language to describe. From arriving at the airport terrified that no one was there to pick me up and falling into the biggest hug when my chauffeur found me, to learning that my immersion teacher loves poetry as much as I do and after a discussion of Neruda, she surprised me with a new book of poetry to read today.
Perhaps the water is not safe, because I fear that I may return a more hopeless romantic than before I left. But forgive me, for I will continue to drink deeply of all that this world has set before me.
Pura vida. As for that, I do not yet know what it means, and perhaps I never will fully understand it until I can no longer spin with my arms open wide in this tropical air. But I think it comes close to my heart to whisper promises when my mama tica pulls me in for the hug I always forget with our kisses. Even when I wake late and am dashing for the door, her smile is wide and her arms are open for me, slowing my world.
Eyes may say that there is less here, but my heart softly shakes its head at their ignorance as it fills my open palms, ready to be given away.
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