Sunday, 21st July 2013

I thought I'd start off with a picture of a truly magnificent BLUE hydrangea, quite hard to achieve in Houston unless you add aluminum sulphate to the soil.   I see it every day on my walk between the bus stop and my school.

So, to pick up where I left off.   The flight from Atlanta to San Jose went well, even though I was sitting in the last row of the whole plane, and every seat was taken.   Delta was offering inducements to people to give up their seat and to catch a flight the following day.   They offered $600, a night in the hotel, and food vouchers!   I guess there were takers, but it caused a delay, so we arrived in Costa Rica

about 45 minutes late.   This made me rather anxious as I was afraid the driver would not be there to meet me, and the school is closed at night and on the weekends Also,  I did not have the street address of the house where I would be staying.   There were emergency phone numbers, but as most of you know, I do not have a cell phone.   Anyway, my worries were unfounded, because Clint, the driver, was the first person I saw when I walked out of Customs.   There was another student arriving from Belgium on the same flight, so he took us both to our respective homes.   The traffic was very heavy, but he drove really well.   The driving skills of Mahmoud the Mad were still fresh in my mind from when I arrived in Cairo to go to school to study Arabic a few years ago.   I seriously doubted that I would arrive in one piece at my hotel since he either drove like a crazed maniac, or stopped in the middle of the lane of traffic to chat with a friend in another vehicle on the other side of the street....

I arrived at my new abode safely but tired, and was introduced to my Costa Rican family.   Doña Rita, 

about my age, Grettel, her daughter, Amanda, her grand-daughter, and Ariana, the 3-month old great-grand-daughter.   Four generations of women living under one roof and nary a man in sight!   

Most of the houses in San José are barricaded behind multiple bars and rolls of razor-wire, unfortunately confirming the truth of the State Department's informational blog about Costa Rica.   Crime here is a living, daily fact of life.   Doña Rita told me that on 3rd January, this year, she was getting ready to leave the house for some holiday festivities with her 40-yr old nephew;  the house door was open, the car door was open, and they were carrying things to the car.   Suddenly, four masked men appeared, one of them armed with a pistol, and forced her inside the house, dragged the nephew from the car into the house, and bound them both at the wrists and ankles.   At this point Rita lost consciousness, and when she came back to her senses they had stolen the computer,  money, camera equipment, and anything else of value that they could lay their hands on.   All this took place in broad daylight.   Rita is very religious and prayed her way through the experience, and was just grateful that the rest of the family was not there at that moment.   After this event she installed bars and a gate on the sidewalk, and another barred gate at the entrance to the porch.   I'm glad I didn't know about this before I arrived, or I may have had second thoughts.   

There are only four million+ Costa Ricans, but over two million Nicaraguans, who entered the country illegally and are now trying to make a living.   Unfortunately, much of the crime is attributed to them whether that be the case or not.   Rather like the US and the Mexicans, or the Egyptians and the Libyans ("bloody buggers" as my Egyptian driver called them many years ago when my husband and I were honeymooning in Egypt).   I have been warned countless times now by several people not to carry more than a few colones (CR currency) with me, and not to flash my camera around.   I brought only plastic beads and fun jewelery with me, a Swiss army watch, and all old shoes that I shall be quite happy to jettison at my departure.

Home security measures

Speaking of shoes, I am really glad I brought only old ones because the side-walks are hazardous, to put it mildly!   Add to that the rainy season("winter", as the locals call it) which has just started, and piles of dirt which turn to mud when it rains, and you can see how easy it would be to ruin a nice pair of shoes.   Everyone goes around here with a mini-umbrella, but usually no rain gear.   The showers are brief but intense, but it never gets cold, so a sweater is usually all that is needed, and only for brief periods.

A couple of minor street hazards to be avoided when walking in San José.   Deep gutters, like ditches,  carry away the heavy waste water.

SCHOOL

Monday was my first day, and I had to be there by 8 a.m. for orientation, so Doña Rita accompanied me there on the bus.   There are many twists and turns on the walk to the bus-stop from home, but from the bus-stop to school it is easy.   I did not feel confident to go alone on Tuesday, so again she accompanied me, but on Wednesday I braved the journey alone!   Exact addresses are not used here, and neither do buses have numbers.   They give destinations, near and far, and if you don't know any of the places, well, tough!   I have a little piece of paper in my bum-bag (fanny-pack in the US) with all the buses I must NOT take.   And you'd better have more or less the right fare in coins because the drivers don't like to waste time giving change for bills.   The fares average 25 cents, no matter where you get off along the bus-route.  The currency reminds me so much of the Italian lire I used when I was living there.   You think you are rich because you have bills for 10,000 colones ($20) in your wallet, and like in Italy until the use of the Euro started, houses, cars, and large items cost millions of colones! 

By Friday I was not stressed out by it any longer, but the journey is still stressful, because the pollution is horrible.   As bad as Bangkok, I'd say, but not quite as bad as Cairo.   So many diesel fumes from the many buses, and the drivers are very independent and don't really like to obey traffic-lights, and as for roundabouts, well, that is a real test of your masculinity...do you submit to a bus, or do you whip in front of it in your tiny car like a mosquito annoying an elephant, daring it to tread on you?   I really want to walk to school this coming week, and I think it will take me only about 30 minutes, but the thing that worries me the most is that I shall have to cross a large roundabout, with no crossings.   Now, I used to cross Tahrir Square every day, which is even larger and more hazardous, but crossing the street is dangerous at the best of times here in San José, and a zig-zag across a roundabout with 6 or 7 streets converging on it can be pretty intimidating.

The school is without a doubt, fantastic!   It is incredibly well organized, and the staff are efficient and very very helpful and friendly.   There is water and coffee available at all times, and the coffee here is superb, even when made in great quantities.   I was thankful to pay for the whole month when I turned up on Monday, so at least I need not worry about losing my school fees to bandits!

I had to do a placement test, and it was so well done, so thorough and precise, and pleasantly done, and I was placed in Intermediate 2, with two guys, one from NJ, and the other from TX.   I could not have been placed with a better teacher.   He is an intellectual, studying for his Masters in Philology.   His approach to teaching is exactly the way I like it:  thorough, in depth, and giving the reasons why something is the way it is.   Since all of us had some knowledge, but it was spotty and irregular, he spent the week revising everything, the most important of which is the past perfect and imperfect.   I have a new respect for verbs now!   They are the Kings of Spanish grammar, and upon them all else hangs.   He is probably the best language teacher I have ever had, though I am reminded of my dear teacher Samr, my favorite Arabic teacher in Cairo.   I love grammar, and understanding how a language works, and when you grasp it, you understand how elegant a language can be.   Spanish is so much more precise in its shades of meaning than English, and in its clarity of intention.   I am also getting the feeling that Arabic had a large influence on the construction of Spanish, which is hardly surprising since the Arabs occupied Spain for 600 years.   There are several Spanish words which come directly from Arabic.   This connection really thrills my heart!

Eduardo, my teacher

Mis compañeros Alex and Rolando and Eduardo, mi profesor

One thing I have had to learn and apply in nearly every conversation, is that I do not refer to the USA as America, or to things and people being American.   The whole of Central America,  and South America, is "America", and the inhabitants consider themselves Americans, so I am obliged to refer to things as "Statunidenses" and the USA as "Los Estados Unidos", which is quite a mouthful when trying to make a quick comment!

I was so thrilled with Eduardo that I changed my schedule from 5 hours a day to 6 hours a day, which means my lessons end at 4, leaving me one hour until 5 to either do more conversation with a bunch of students from other classes, or a dance class, or a cooking class, or yoga on a Wednesday.

I shall give more details of home and school when I have taken more photographs to illustrate things.   A picture is worth a thousand words, right?   All in all, it was a good first week, but it takes time to get used to the environment in a developing country (they refer to themselves as a 3rd world country) because there is usually a lot more garbage everywhere, more traffic, more pollution, and more noise.   This is without a doubt one of the noisiest countries I have ever visited.