Finding Joy in the Rain.

        I don't think the title for this post is fitting. Realistically, I don't know if at any point in the near future my Costa Rican experiences will be concluded. I think that this coming semester will teach me just as much about my faith, life, and living in a country other than the US as Costa Rica did. It's hard to come back. It's hard to look around and see the waste. It's hard that whether voluntary or involuntary, I am a part of that waste. It's also beautiful to come back. I don't really know what my new feelings of the word "blessed" are, but according to my pre-CR definition, I am so incredibly blessed and thankful to grow up the way I did. I've never known hunger, homelessness, or experienced a true depravation of a basic human need. I've never been forced to work 12 hours a day for $2, had to walk 2 miles to get a cup of water, or spent the day buying, killing and cooking a fresh chicken for dinner. I can easily see why many

Reverse culture shock. Oh my goodness. I never thought it could be so hard. I experienced minor culture shock when I first got to Costa Rica and when I came back to the States from traveling in the past... but I have never experienced culture shock like this. Everything is so hard.  I'm not used to people being on their phone when I'm talking to them. I constantly throw my toilet paper in the trash can instead of the toilet. What's a dishwasher? I'm horrrrible at making small talk. When I didn't have anything to say in spanish, I didn't talk. I have plans, and people expect me to be places on time. It's cold. Gross. I consistently think there is an earthquake. People in this country waste SO much electricity. People throw their food away if they don't want any more. I can't take a bus anywhere. :/ People complain. A lot. WASTE WASTE WASTE. It's overwhelming, it's hard, and it's resulted in me being a tad (very much) antisocial. 

I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. I don't want to leave. No quiero ir. :( It’s Saturday night. Which means I leave in the morning at 9am to head to San José. I’ll be there doing reorientation stuff with my classmates until Tuesday morning when my plane leaves at about 8am. I fly to Georgia and arrive in Texas around 5:30pm. I think that this will probably be my last post from the CR. This last week has gone fast. I’m still on an emotional roller coaster, but for the most part I’ve been dreading tomorrow. I know that once tomorrow morning comes it will hit me that I’m leaving and I’ll want to hurry up and be in Texas, but for now… I just don’t want to leave. Seriously. I really really really don’t want to leave. Of course I want to see everybody I miss, but

Excerpt from my final paper for school.         "I get off the bus and look around. The realization that I’m going to live with the next person that knows my name hits me. I should be nervous or scared, but realistically this has become my life. After three months in Costa Rica, I’m accustomed to living outside of my comfort zone. I go to parties where I don’t know anyone, I go weeks without seeing another gringo, I eat more than I’ve ever eaten before, I get into cars and have no idea where they are taking me, I dance-a lot, I think in Spanish, I leave my house not knowing how to get where I’m going but remain confident I will get there, I hardly remember how to use the word “no”, I do things here I never do in the States, (such as belly dance, go hang out at a bar, and go on a date because it’s culturally inappropriate to say no) and I very rarely leave the house after 6pm. Every moment of every day screams culture difference, but somehow in the midst of that I am molding m

        I'm on an emotionally roller coaster. This morning I laid in bed wishing I was back in Texas. This afternoon I teared up just thinking about leaving. I think back to the moment I first arrived in the CR. In orientation, they talked to us about different "stages" of adjusting to a different culture. The ones I remember are "honeymoon stage", "rejection stage", and "adjustment stage". There were definitely a few in between those... but the point is that I think I'm between the rejection stage and the adjustment stage. I never thought I would get out of the honeymoon stage... I guess that was ignorance on my part. My work at the orphanage booted me out of that happy little wonderland after about the third day here. The last week and a half was tough. I've been exhausted-really exhausted, felt unwanted at work, gotten ticked off because I had to eat when I wasn't hungry, and gone to one to