So as it turned out I made last minute plans and spent the last three days in Puerto Viejo, on the Caribbean side. Because of this, I was unable to write more from my journal. Phew, I have a lot of catching up to do. I'll have to keep my journal entries brief. Oh, and while I'm writing this, my host sister is snogging her novio on the couch behind me; hilarious. "Oh Marlo, eres perfecto, eres mi mundo, eres guapisimo." She didn't actually say any of this, that was just the play by play I was giving to my host-mom in the kitchen.
9/30
Somewhere between planting cacao semillas with monkeys howling around me as well as drinking from coconuts while grafting cacao trees I think to myself, "how the hell did I get here?" When I spotted a tarantula crawling across the floor of the bar last night I knew that I had gotten into something special. That thing was bigger than my fist. Might've been bigger than my face, but I was going to find out.
Last night I swear Edwin said we were going to the bank. I was definitely confused as it was about eight. I asked Amelia, who was giggling, to clarify and eventually I gather we were going to the bar.
I'm sure that there has to be a certain level of comfort to let another man ride on the back of your motorcycle, and I guess Edwin and I have reached that point. Anyway, the bar we went to is in Pataste, about a ten minute bike ride away.
I had the assumption that this would be a quick, cordial, event. Something Edwin was doing to be nice and probably because he thought I was bored or something. To keep a long night's worth of stories short, I had only two things on my mind that night: when is this man who is half my size going to drop? and how much money is in my wallet?
Sometime later in the night one could have caught me with the stupidest grin, riding on the back of a motorcycle home, once again wondering how life had taken me to this place.
10/03
Edwin took me to a fiesta last night; it was someone's birthday as well as a reunion for a farmer's coop he belongs to. At one point I was talking with a tica who knew a little English and a German who knew bits of English and Spanish. It was a bizarre cultural experience to say the least. Last night was also a good example of how at times my Spanish can be great and at others I can hardly speak at all. This accompanied by the fact that I'm boring in English makes me a social outcast sometimes at parties. If I'm boring in English, I must be a dread in Spanish.
I did meet a man who has visited both Kansas State and Iowa State, for agricultural programs...small world.
10/04
After breakfast I helped clear the field for the game today. In as few words as possible it was such an incredibly amazing, awesome, foreign experience. All of the men in the area got their weedwackers out and then out of nothing appears a futbol field in practically the middle of nowhere.
The game was intense, with the ages of the players ranging from 14-50. And to add to the experience, practically the entire time it was downpouring. I was allowed to play (against the neighboring town) because I'm not a registered team member, but there were certainly countless jokes about sending me in. I was invited to play in a less formal game next Sunday though (for some reason they think I'm good at futbol).
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