Umbrella etiquette

I’ve been busy as a bee over here with project aprender español. I’m thoroughly enjoying my classes. Mi profesor is an adorable chubby twenty five year old Tico man. He is very animated, so if you ask him the definition of a word he will act out the meaning for you, which was pretty fucking funny when he was trying to describe the word for a neutered bull. My speaking skills are improving a lot, but I need to gain more confidence as well as work on my accent a little. It will come with time.

I didn’t take any more Salsa classes last week, but the language institute also has cooking classes with this nice little lady:

I have been doing all sortsa activities around town. Last weekend I went to the zoo. Here I am with Señor Simón Bolivar.

I have also gone bowling and to a SPIN class. I couldn’t believe how much fun it was despite sweating my ass off like a hamster on a wheel. The classes are in the mall near our hostel and they are lead by a very buff, energetic, and attractive bronze skinned Tico who looks like he might have Brazilian heritage. Every time we’d have to pick up the pace he’d shout, “Vamos, vamos!” Then towards the end of class we had to climb a “montaña.” By the time class was over there was a puddle of sweat under my bike. Not quite the same as hopping on your bike and going for a ride up Mt. Lemmon, but I really enjoyed it nonetheless. The class is on the 3rd floor of the mall, and the window overlooked a panoramic view of the city and mountains at night. There was an awesome thunderstorm as the backdrop to the instructor barking at us in español during the class. It was almost comically awesome. There’d be lightning and thunder as we were doing intervals and he’d be counting down, “Diez! Nueve! Ocho! Siete!…,” as we were pedaling our asses off and watching the storm.

The weather patterns here are insane. I have never NEVER seen this much rain in my life. I guess that’s how it’s gotta be for all these tropical trees and plants to thrive as they do. It often starts to rain unexpectedly in the afternoon and just continues for hours. Then it stops again, then starts again. It’s kind of amazing. Oftentimes the rain is accompanied by killer lightning storms. I’ve been caught walking in rain and intense lightning many times. There is sometimes now way to avoid it. There exists a whole culture based around umbrellas here. Umbrellas, referred to as paraguas for men and sombrillas for women, are sold everywhere. When you are downtown you notice that the second it starts to rain, the paragua dudes take over the streets trying to hawk them.

There is also a whole system of sombrilla etiquette that exists when walking through busier parts of town. There will often be obstructions, or other impediments on the sidewalk and that makes for plenty of situations where two people can’t pass each other with their umbrellas up. What people do is one person will lift their umbrella over the other’s. If it is a man approaching a woman, it is always the man who is the lifter. If the situation necessitates momentarily jumping off the sidewalk, it will also be the man who makes the extra precautionary measure.

The machismo thing typically associated with many Latin American countries is definitely prevalent here. In fact, it is apparently more outwardly expressed in Costa Rica than it is in other Central American countries such as Nicaragua and El Salvador. I’ve been shouted at, honked, hissed at, kissed at, as well as told by a passing old man with a cane that I was a “beautiful gringa.” The old man actually man me smile.

Prostitution is legal in Costa Rica, and many people fly here specifically to partake in the trade. A few of the people in our hostel have disclosed that they sleep with prostitutes on a regular basis. We’ve been told that you can have your way with one of these “mujeres de la noche” for as little as 5,000 colones ($10), but apparently for “premium” it’s more like $250.

A new girl showed up to the hostel last week, and it quickly became apparent that the owner is allowing her to stay here possibly in exchange for ass. The owner made up some hilarious story about how the gov wants to keep her somewhere in hiding, so he helping her out by letting her stay here. I heard the story secondhand, so I don’t know the extent of the ridiculous fabrication but I gotta admit that shit is hilarious. The reality is that she is a hooker who fell on hard times and needed a spot to stay in a pinch. I cannot confirm the sex for rent barter, but I can confirm that the muchacha is indeed a hooker. The 5 inch clear plastic heals and crop tops sort of give you away, sweetie. Costa Rican women do not typically dress like that. It is also evident in the fact that at night she sits on the porch waiting for her cell phone to ring and then she disappears for a day. She is very quiet and does not speak a lick of English but I have talked with her a bit. She apparently has a child that lives with her grandmother. She is very young, only 20. I was a little surprised to find this posting written in English on craigslist. If I am to stay here I need a job.

I am applying to teach English at a community college just north of San José. If I get the job, they will pay for half of my TESOL certification, which would be pretty dope. That would mean that I could pretty much go anywhere to teach Engreesh. Bringing the language of the oppressor to your doorstep, folks. One country at a time.

-L

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