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7 little ticos jumping on the bed.

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 myself into a tica. I am well aware that three months is very short and I have a very long ways to go, but I am beginning to see my gringo and North American culture blend with the culture of Costa Rica."

Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.

        It's been one heck of a week. Shortly after I arrived, I began the habit of leaving early for work  so that I could stop at the local Musamanni coffee shop and sit down with my Bible to prepare for my day. I'm so thankful I did on Friday, because the moment I walked through the door of the orphanage I was placed in a room alone with 7 little kids, a television, 5 beds and literally nothing else. I know that doesn't really sound bad, and at first it wasn't... But 4 hours later, the little ones were bored to death of the television and not allowed to leave the room. I'm sure you've all read the story about the five little monkeys jumping on the bed...? Well. There were 7 of them. One would fall off, scream loudly for a good 10 minutes, and continue on jumping. Meanwhile, I am frantically running around trying to get them to stop because by now there's a good three or four of them crying hysterically from falling. I have decided by this point that there is absolutely no way that none of the teachers heard these little kids screaming their heads off. After about an hour of this (I am not exaggerating. An hour.) I am getting pretty tired of playing the "sit down until you apologize" game. It was fine when they were hitting me as I tried to get them to sit, but the moment one of them spit at my face, I was no longer calm. I knew that I needed to step out of the room for a minute. I left them alone in the room and headed to the kitchen to cool off. The only time I really cry is when I'm frustrated. So, unfortunately as I told the teachers I just needed a moment to cool off because they were all hitting and spitting at me, I teared up a little. Their response? Laughter. Oh gracious y'all. They just laughed at me as I held back the tears. I think that was probably the hardest moment I've experienced here. In that moment, everything in me wanted to leave, have a good cry, and head back to the good 'ole BTX. As frustrated as I was, I was determined not to leave and I finished the day off as best I could. 
It took everything in me to go back today.

        I don't want anyone to get the impression I don't love it here. I hope that if you've been keeping up with my blog, you've noticed that I'm just having a serious of ups and downs. Who knows... You might have read that and decided I'm a wuss for getting so frustrated. (; I just needed to vent for a moment. Today was hard, but better. A six year old girl arrived yesterday. I spent most of the day hanging out with her. When I left, she gave me the biggest hug and kissed me on the cheek. It reminded me why I was here.

Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet. 

        My weekend was crazy as well. Saturday night I went to the biggest party i've ever been to. For six hours, we danced, ate, danced some more, watched fireworks, listened to two bands and watched these weird little guys in costume dance around, and ate some more. The sad part about it is that I still have no idea who the party was for... (: whoops. I also watched a cowboy parade and learned how to DJ. Tonight or tomorrow I'm going on a date with my sister, her boyfriend, and one of my cousins. Apparently I have to go because it's rude to say no...? Haha gosh. I love this place. LOVE IT. I get excited and then I tear up every time I think about leaving. (I guess I cry more than I think. haha.)

        Tomorrow marks the one week point until I'm home. I still don't know how I feel about that. I went to Walmart last weekend with my family and experienced culture shock. I'm going to be so thrown off when I get back to Texas. So. Here's to my last week. I will not waste it, and I will not wish it away. Go big then go home!

 Sweet Family. 





 A random parade of cowboys paraded down our street for at least half an hour yesterday. Nobody really knew why... but it was awesome!


I learned how to be the DJ for a Costa Rica wedding!


She was really proud of this hairstyle she did for me.


¡Costa Rica Fiesta!

Every day my heart breaks for these kids. Every day when they scream at me, hit me, or spit at me, I want to cry. I don’t want to cry because I’m angry at them, I want to cry because I know that they have had things so much worse than that happen to them. I want to pick them all up and take them home with me. 

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