fantasies

So sitting at breakfast this morning with my host parents, chatting over our finger-bread and fruit plates, suddenly the attention is turned to the little black and white TV sitting atop the refridgerator. the screen, barely visible to my unaided eyes, is flashing pictures of a car that looks to be in a giant hole (this is disturbing also because of the painful memories it brings back from my first Wednesday out with host brother). As the story unfolds, I came to understand that this was not a hole that had been driven into, but insted created by the street literally crumbling from beaneath its tires. This is not in some far away part of Costa Rica, but instead just in front of the popular San Pedro Mall that I have visited too many times than I care to count. This is extremely frightening for many reasons, but here´s a summation:

a) there are holes of all sorts throughout the city, and I have, since arriving, held a very terrifying fear of being under the influence (or maybe not) and falling into one, now this fear is coupled with the possibility of the ground disappearing beneath my feet

b) people drive crazily here, there are no enforced traffic laws and missing cars by a hair is a regular occurrence, thus, if there´s also a possibility of holes springing up (or down) it just adds to the chaos that is the roads of San Jose

c) I only travel in buses, except the rare occasions that I go places with the host family, and so I can only imagine how much more stress the heavy bus puts on these roads that apparently are able to cave

Needless to say, nowhere is safe. Maybe that´s exciting and I should bask in the thrill of it. Hardly possible though, because each time we´ve traveled afar and we find ourselves climbing mountains in our little mini buses, on roads that are not paved, do not have guardrails, I literally get sick at the thought of tumbling down the side of the mountain. I have taken to using anti-nausea medicine which is embarrassing in itself, and I have to blast music while I hold my eyes shut or stare off at a far off point until we´ve reached our destination. These hours of the trips are truly some of my only moments of quiet, but I can´t bear to stop thinking about the thought of falling off, it haunts me. Furthermore, a few weeks back I made the mistake of asking my hostbrother if accidents like that ever happened. He said, and I am quoting here, “Not too often, I wouldn´t say more than 1 per year.” Comforting, really. Thanks.

A couple other points about my life here that I have meant to make. First of all, I don´t think I have ever seen so many centipedes (or millipedes) in my life as I have seen in my flat downstairs. Every night there is one or two slinkying around the stark white tile like one of the straight pieces in a tetris game. It freaks me out for obvious reasons, but I´ve given up on trying to rid the place of them. I just warily step around them and push the thoughts of them slinkying up my bedposts out of my mind. Almost. And secondly, I know that I´m lucky to have a house with hot water, but honestly, I don´t know that I could call it that. Every day is a struggle with my shower, gently twisting the handle back and forth trying to catch the moment that the electricity for the showerhead will turn on and I´ll have a trickle of warm water. I have spent countless minutes, completely soaped, with shampoo streaming into my eyes, goosebumps undoing the leg shaving I´d just completed, while I fumble with the contraption cursing it all the same. I am not quite ready to head back to the States, but I would not object to a quick trip if only for an amazing, full pressure, hot shower. I just want to see steam on the mirror when I get out, is that too much to ask? (Yes, you spoiled American gringa, it is. There are people in the world who don´t have running water, much less hot water.) Again, I don´t know that I could call it hot water.

I realized yesterday, that somehow in all of my years so far, everyone has failed to fill me in on the fact that it is actually possible for fantasies to come true. Those little creations that you make up when you should be studying, or when you´re waiting in line at the bank, picking out wine. Mamatica kept repeating to me this weekend that I was being pensitiva, I just didn´t know that those things can ever be a reality.

Debate tonight.

I´ve got like three weeks to finish these stupid applications.

And, I just remembered the Spanish homework on the futura compuesto.

Hasta mañana.