Good morning San Ramon! 
Praise God for the beauty of mountains; for biting October air that cleanses and freshens like mental Listerine; for Oak trees, adorned with orchids, befriending giant celery plants; for hot coffee sipped next to the camaraderie of a wood stove; for clouds that breathe moisture on the face and wrap slimy arms one’s unsuspecting bones; for playing cards, battered and frayed, that spur the irrepressible laughter of friends who love life too much.
It has been a beautiful weekend. Something about chilly mountain air and the obscurity of mist ushers in memories of autumns past and memories that will never again be. Joy seasoned with the sweetest of sorrows.
In a twist of irony, this much-needed escape to the mountains concluded on a piercing note. A routine post-journey email check revealed the loss of something that I have loved deeply for a long time: my dog. It might sound ridiculous, but nothing has shaken my emotions like this in, well, a really long time. Chester. Anyone who knows my family is familiar with the name. It calls to mind dirty white fur with puddles of rusty brown; oversized head resting on strong barrel-chest and stubby legs; crooked tail dancing with joy at the sight of friendly faces. Chester. I don’t know how to explain it, but he was more than just a pet. We found him, weighed down with the hardships of life on the streets, shivering in the corner of a concrete pound. I was five. He was two. From that day on he became a part of the family. He was a patient counselor when little girl hardships were too much to handle. He was the most understanding of comforters who wiped away countless childish tears with a consoling pink tongue. He was the link that united my family in times when seemingly insurmountable personal differences threatened to pull us apart. A shared adoration for this stocky little mutt has been a significant theme in the history of Luoma.
And now he is gone. Heavy with eighteen years of life, his exhausted bones fell asleep for the last time. I knew it was going to happen. It had to. But somehow the inevitability of loss doesn’t make it any easier to bear.
I realize now how much I miss home. It sucks.
(photo taken in my brother Helberth's room)
Language. It is a fundamental characteristic of the human species. No other animal has developed this capability like we, Giant Naked Mole Rats of the earth, have somehow been able to do. We use it to make requests, exchange ideas, build relationships, start wars, crack jokes, create self identities and simply pass the time. Without this secret code there would be no Coliseum, no Eiffel Tower, no skyscrapers. No wars? There’s a thought. But what is it, anyway? A simple combination of two or three guttural vocalizations, when uttered in the correct combination, has the potential to change a mood, a life or the course of a nation. How can this be?
And yet, without language, man is an island. Without communication, we lose our power as a superior species. The intelligence of one man is of little importance if he alone can benefit from it.
Imagine losing this ability to make sounds that have meaning. Imagine waking up in a world where you cannot comment on the weather, make jokes, or learn from the people around you. Your own thoughts echo back and forth, over and over again, in the hollow cave of your isolated mind. You can exist in this world. You still eat, walk, sleep and share a home with your family. But you are alone. Every person exists in a different sort of globe, a world of his or her own imagining, that will never be shared.
Living in a Spanish-speaking country can feel this way sometimes. When I first arrived in Costa Rica, I felt raw and helpless. I was newly born into a foreign species. I had reverted to toddlerdom. I could not fully participate in conversations. Jokes passed over my head completely unnoticed. Building relationships was a seemingly insurmountable feat. Conversations with my family revolved around the simplest of things: food, clothes, the weather. To share jokes or talk about political issues was an unimaginable trial. “Mas despacio”, “repite, por favor”, “no comprendo”, and “lo siento, no se” were the most essential phrases of my vocabulary. If you have ever spent time in a different culture, you know what I mean.
For some time, I thought about trashing the idea of learning Spanish altogether: apathetically accepting a monolingual existence started to sound pretty good. In fact, there were nights when I would lock myself in my room to do homework rather than face yet another frustrating conversation with my Costa Rican family. Enduring blank, uncomprehending stares and a patronizing tone normally reserved for ADD four year olds was starting to get old. It wasn’t easy. There came a point, however, when I realized that I had a choice between two routes: passively accept my identity as an extraneous member of society, or suck it up, embrace the awkwardness and chip away at the tedious conversations until something started to change.
Well, I’m sure you can guess what I decided to do. I have been in Costa Rica for about six weeks now, and every day speaking in Spanish becomes more and more natural. Conversations flow more smoothly. When talk to my family, we can share humor (of sorts) and converse about more than just the current temperature. Newspaper articles are more easily interpreted; TV shows start to make sense. I even catch myself thinking in Spanish and slipping Spanish words into English conversations (i.e. “donde the heck are my shoes?” or “I was comiendo lunch with my familia…”). I am by no means fluent. My Spanish is still riddled with grammatical errors, and my store of vocabulary is a little emaciated. But the progress is there, and I am excited to keep learning. I still make mistakes every day; rather than sources of frustration, however, they have become indispensable teachers. At this point, I have progressed from preschool to kindergarten, and I am ready to continue learning, growing and embarrassing myself until I can speak the language with ease.
Que Pinche! …….. How cheap!
Me pone como los diablos ……. It pisses me off!
Estar en la luna ……. To be daydreaming
Es por vara ……...For kicks
La dejo el tren ……. She is an old maid
And now for some fotografias. (Oh I know you’re excited!)
El Matrimonio…
Confession: our faces were sprayed on.....and those eyelashes are fake. So much for natural beauty haha
Married! Now they are officially BFF's 4 LYFE! After the wedding they took the next step in their relationship and added each other on Facebook.
Santa Teresa Beach Trip!
The beach was kind of cool I guess.
Gotta love camera timers. Oh, and swimming in giant waterfalls.
And some 'shrooms just for funzies:
Buenos Dias Bloggerland.
I have much to say; too much. For the sake of brevity, I am using numbers to summarize the recent events of my humble little life.
7 Number of takeoffs, landings, complimentary snacks, in-flight movies, and airplane safety demonstrations endured in the past two weeks. If you have any questions about the proper stowage of train tables, you know who to ask. I am currently considering a future as a flight stewardess….might as well make some money since I live on an airplane anyway.
5 Number of waves pursued, caught and successfully ridden via surfboard.
18 Number of embarrassingly heinous surfing wipeouts. The result? 5 new bruises, 2 very red eyes and 1 nasal cavity filled to the brim with tepid saltwater. Mmm mm.
9 Number of random European hostel friends made. As of this weekend, hostels are my new favorite thing: cheap rooms + free coffee + new places + crazy people with cool accents = yes please!
2 Number of new/pending additions to the good ol’ familia. Pause. Time for an important tangent: my family is amazing!! I just spent two magically rainbow-carpeted days with them. During that time, I met my new sister in law for the first time (she is a peach) and found out my sister is engaged to the most hilarious Guamanian in the world. And so it goes. Time passes. Please turn the page and continue reading as we begin the next chapter of our audio book.
3.5 Number of tearful nostalgic episodes experienced. Having honed the art to perfection over my adolescent years, I am now an expert at these. Here’s what you do:
Step one: block out the cacophony of life that surrounds you with ipod headphones.
Step two: select a playlist of your favorite bittersweet songs. (Anything by Copeland, Coldplay or Imogen Heap works well)
Step three: stare out the window. Any window will do in a pinch, but personally I favor airplanes (Thank you seat numbers 22F and 18D).
Step four: let your thoughts glide luxuriously over the landscape of your life. Try to dwell on your most deliciously sentimental memories.
Step five: if the tears come, feel free to let them flow. It is a cleansing experience. Do not, however, feel bad if the salty tide never comes; everyone’s nostalgic journey is different.
Well, it’s been real friends! More photos are on the way. Until then, adios! Vivan vidas lindas!
So sorry for dropping off the face of the earth! The last four days of my life have been pretty freaking insane. Let’s just say I am now an expert on muscling through airport security, smuggling electronics out of the country, and making an idiot out of myself at wedding receptions. More details later.
For now, you’ll just have to settle with a tasty sampling of fotografias. (I will be taking a lot more as the semester goes on. This week I was way too distracted with the whole “Holy crap I’m in Costa Rica” thing to think about my camera. Sorry.)
Well hello!
I am in San Ramon now by the way. I have a new family, new classes, and lots of new Costa Rican friends. It’s only been a couple of days, but I have already learned a lot about Costa Rica and the “Ticos” that live here.
Here are some super neato fun facts:
1) People here are muy muy friendly! Whenever you meet someone new, they will give you a “beso en la mejilla” (a kiss on the cheek) and un “abrazo” (a hug). In other words, there is not much personal space here! That is good for me. As a notorious invader of personal bubbles, I feel at home.
2) Ticos like to drink coffee. A lot. It is freaking amazing.
3) They also like to drink alcohol. A lot. Maybe not so good for me haha.
4) Everyone here wears Hollister. Everyone. They have no idea that Hollister is actually a tiny hick town where the High School mascot is a freaking Hay-Bailer.
5) Life here is much slower than in California. People like to take their time eating, enjoying life and hanging out with their friends. They live by “Tico time”, meaning they show up at least 20 minutes late for everything.
6) Costa Rica is a place where umbrellas are a necessary fashion statement. It rains here almost every day. Actually, the word “rain” is a misnomer. The sky basically pukes water until streets turn into rivers and hills become mud slides. My tiny San Diego umbrella is no match for sky vomit. I end up getting soaked a lot.
Hasta luego, amigos! I will write more soon!
Disclaimer: if this attempt to record my experiences trips on the first crack of life’s sidewalk and falls flat on its face, please don’t judge me too harshly. Let it be remembered that I am not an English major, I have never kept a blog, and I own several pathetically uncompleted diaries sulking in the dresser drawers and dusty cardboard boxes of my childhood home. That being said, I do love to write; and I promise I will get myself into a wide variety of awkward, embarrassing, and possibly hilarious situations that you might enjoy reading about (if only for the purpose of mocking my pathetic life).
So. Eight more days of American life. Eight. That is a small number. In characteristic Kelsey Luoma fashion, I have barely started getting ready for this trip. I think I remember getting a packing list in the mail at some point, but I honestly could not tell you where it is (probably stuffed in a box somewhere collecting dust and wasting away in inanimate sorrow). I would feel guilty about the heinous procrastination that is just now starting to inject burning panic into my veins, but honestly the past three months of my life have allowed for little else. This summer has been a hurricane of intense life experiences: working full time, living away from home for the first time, training for (and subsequently running) a marathon, taking an EMT course, exploring the Western United States on an epic road trip, and, of course, getting ready for Costa Rica. Insane? Ridiculous? Stupid? Probably. Well, what can you do? That’s life- or my life anyway: a hectic flurry of experiences fueled by prayer and caffeine. Again, please don’t judge. Only Jesus is supposed to do that. Also, caffeine is good for you, I promise.
Well, I guess you will be hearing from me again soon! Peace out blog friends.
P.S. Today I met Helberth, my new Costa Rican home stay brother, on Facebook. Also, I learned how to laugh in Spanish: “Jajajajaja” or, if the joke is really
hilarious, “jejejejeje”.
