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:
