26 (or reign//rain.)

I've been feeling presidential, emotions torrential, so many things to do, so much potential...

Mid-week breakdowns, procrastination. I don't have the motivation to get my priorities straight. Class ends, independent research begins, time creeps.

Filming, interviews, literary reviews.

Baby sloths, fig trees, howler monkeys.

Summer sun, summer rain.

Big beds, small talk.

Beginnings, endings. That's part of traveling.

Just read Peter Pan and all I can think right now is...

tick tick tick...

25 (or post.)

I look at the package checklist with your name crossed out. I used to joke about sending myself around the world, and although I'm smaller than you, I probably wouldn't have fit into a padded envelope, either.

It's all stupidly punk rock and I love every moment of it. As soon as Arthur Killroad came on the mixtape I stopped and played it a handful of times and almost started crying so I walked outside into the mountain sun with butterflies and birds and squinted in the afternoon light and got all those feelings of summer in my stomach and heart and it can only be amplified because this emotion isn't a weight, it's just a solid.

So I smile and sit with my legs stretched out in front of me reading zines and eating crystallized ginger and i love every minute of it, like you reminded me (like I needed reminding).

IT'S ALSO REALLY HARD TO NOT LOVE MY LIFE WHEN I GET TO HANG OUT WITH THE RESCUED BABY SLOTH BENITO CURRENTLY CARES FOR DURING LUNCH OVER AT THE GALERIA OKAY YES!!!!!

24 (or candid.)

Beginning last week I got into this habit of waking up for breakfast, going back to sleep, and then waking up again fifteen minutes later and getting ready for school.

When I woke up for the second time this morning I looked out the window and said aloud ¨Today is a great day.¨

Day 10 of good feelings.

Unfortunate departure from a rapidly founded friendship. Maybe it was less about the language barrier and more about the inability to listen. Unfortunate nonetheless.

This weekend was great for these reasons:
+ Homemade Flan for breakfast on Friday
+ Tilaran Windmill farm
+ Eating doughnuts for the first time in 3+ months
+ Farmer´s Market as always
+ Finishing Book 12 at Frisbee
+ Trivial Pursuit with Max and Katie at Dulce Marzo
+ Moon Shiva always. Finally getting into the spirit of things
+ Visiting my farm for Environmental Sustainability and learning how to make cow manure into a sustainable energy resource!
+ It´s totally summer.
+ Bright-eyed boys from Oregon who take you to climb strangler figs and make you dinner and may or may not let you ride on the back of their motorcycle even if it´s against the rules for you to do it.

just ate confetti cake for Molly´s birthday and it was SOOOOO good.

I reread my copy of Two Thousand and Great this morning and while that was only four months ago it´s amazing, absolutely amazing how much my perspective and vocabulary has changed since then.

growing new roots in fertile soil.
this morning we tromped around the forst behind the institute and I wondered if I smelled the earth or the air. Why is it so much easier for me breathe here? Is it physical or psychological? or both?

...I will not hold my breath. I will breathe while I know I can, without panic.



two thousand and shine.
two thousand and fine.

two thousand and nine.

23 (or defying the gender role.)

Back to the pencil skirt and white button up, waspy necklaces and ecuadorian nene bracelets. Maribel washed my Vans over the weekend and they don't look as bad as I thought they would (I can live with the rips and still look presentable). It's amazing what I've put these shoes through in just a couple months.

As progressive as this country is environmentally, it is still traditional in acting out gender roles. and in many ways it's refreshing for me; women are still empowered and respected within society, and I'm adapting (not changing) myself to function within my gender role. It's not domesticating, it's just different, and in some ways I feel MORE empowered as a woman here than I do in the States.

I am a white woman from the west with privilege and power. I am separated into a category as a guest, a tourist, even though I am here long term. I'm prone to a lot more criticism and speculation, not because I'm doing anything wrong, but because my identity, physically and mentally, prevents me from abiding or adhering to every rule within my social role as a young female in Costa Rica. I fall between the lines. No one knows quite what to do with me or where to place me in this society.

Since Thursday, I've spent most of my extracurricular time with Amy, Diego, and Alejandro. It's impossible to not see Alejandro every single day. I pass his house at least twice a day, and I pass his tienda at least twice a day. But more than that, I like spending time with him, even if I'm sitting on the couch doing work while he's outside washing his car. But I'm a great person to speculate, what's that gringa doing that Colombiano's apartment? Assumptions and speculation, reputations, who's rules am I breaking? Amy proves to be a close ally, but she leaves in two weeks. While I adapt, Alejandro adapts, as in, seeing me as an emotional channel rather than a physical (which, believe me, caused quite a tension for the first few days of our acquaintance). He has a lot of history, filled with violence and pain and problems and has close to nothing in this country (he has God), but he doesn't seek me out for sympathy. We don't interact within our stereotypical roles: the immigrant necklace maker and then gringa tourist, both looking for a shot at exotic love. or sympathy. I can't help him, really, in a material capacity. I acknowledge my privilege and ethically I will not bow down to try and stabilize his life in this country. And he doesn't expect me to do that. But he now expects me to be there and I do have patience. I went to the tienda yesterday on my home from the institute and he was in an awful mood (who wouldn't be if they worked 13 hours a day, everyday, dealing with tourists who most times don't even speak Spanish, or at least attempt to be humble in communication?). Two young female German tourists came into the shop and I immediately felt him sieze up with impatience. I told him I was there if he needed me. They were quite nice, actually, but he was quick to judge and shut himself off and didn't make much of an effort to get their sales. So I stepped in, served as his buffer, translating, and made the deal. He wouldn't have made those two sales without me, and I think he knows that, just because I was patient and calm and didn't criticize or condemn him. Is that what a woman is supposed to do with a man? I helped him count out the drawer and walked with him to his house. We sat across from one another in his living room, drinking fresca naranja in mugs, and didn't talk.

There are moments when you have to take a risk, to do crazy things...

...but love is much like a dam: if you allow a tiny crack to form through which only a trickle of water can pass, that trickle will quickly bring down the whole structure, and soon no one will be able to control the force of the current.


Willpower. Power and privilege. Preservation and conservation. Civil war and civil intentions.


Defiance.

22 (or loose.)

One of the reasons I chose to spend my semester in Costa Rica was to get out of this academic mold I've been in, well, forever. I did pretty well up until midterms, and then went on spring break, and with all the housekeeping this week I sort went back into the only thinking about school and grades and went back into stupid mode. so i needed to be durastic and DO SOMETHING TO BREAK IT OFF.

Well, first it broke when Michael took me to Stella's and bought me pie. Afterwards we headed back to the Institute, grabbed binoculars, and Matt, and headed out to El Sendero Tranquilo behind the institute to try and find some Quetzals.

Which we did. Five of them.
First spotting since I've been here.
I still think their heads look a little funny but they are resplendant nonetheless.

So that cheered up my spirits. After class I headed into Santa Elena to run some errands. But still wasn't satisfied. I needed something else...

So I went to supercompro and bought a Toña. That's the Nicaraguan cerveza. 625 colones.

I don't really know what I planned to do with it when I bought it. Drink it, yes, but I didn't know when or where or with whom. It would be my fourth beer since I've been here. I had a Toña in San Juan del Sur and it might have been the most enjoyable experience I've ever had with a cerveza, so originally I just went to supercompro to see if they even carried it. Which they did. So I started walking home and ran into Helena and Abby. In excitement, I showed them my discovery and asked if they wanted to be belligerent and have a happy hour with me. They declined. I think they were just taken aback that I was so excited about a beer. We ended up walking back to my house and hanging out for a bit. So here's me, with an open beer, 6 o'clock in the afternoon, hanging outside my house. Maribel comes outside and is just like "you know you can come in. do you want to come in?" so here I am, giving a tour of my house to Helena and Abby, still drinking my Toña. We chill out in my room and Maribel brings me a BAG OF BROWNIES. so I have my cerveza in one hand and brownies in the other and I can't stop giggling. We make plans to meet up later at Moon Shiva, they leave, I eat dinner and get ready for SALSA DANCING.

Dulce Marzo hosts Salsa Dancing classes Thursday evenings before Moon Shiva's salsa night. It's only 2000 colones, Matt was the only one going, so I decided to join him and work on my moves. Which I did. And it was great. Sam was there, too. I met some girls who were on spring break and went to AU. Weird. I was super hyper and goofy because of the beer (you really don't drink ever, do you?), but I think it was a combination of just finally breaking out of that mold again. I also think 2000 colones a week for some dance skill improvements is a good investment.

So post dance lesson we headed over to Moon Shiva. It was packed, as it always is on Thursdays, and spent the first half of the evening chatting it up and settling down. Salsa'd with Matt, Anibal, this other guy Tim from class who teaches at CPI, and got some pretty nice compliments on my following skills (YEAH PLAYING INTO GENDER ROLES!). But really, I'm learning to love dancing here.

I took a break for a bit and sat with Matt. I told him about the summer and how the only thing I wanted that first day I was home was to be asked to dance at my ex-boyfriend's grandparents' wedding anniversary (he's Chilean), but he never did. It would've been nice. I really just wanted to dance with someone who could literally sweep me off my feet. Next thing I knew, I was. His name was Alejandro, from Colombia. He taught me to Meringue and asked me to dance multiple times throughout the night, to which I obliged. It also turns out he currently lives right next door to me. Not sure how long he's around for, but hey, now I have a sick dancing teacher. Honestly, dancing in Latin America is so civil and sexy and fluid and refreshing and...non-aggressive in a way of flirting or simply communication that doesn't seem to exist in such a combination outside of Latin American dance, at least I haven't seen it.

So that's me, breaking the mold with my one beer and salsa dancing.

and I feel totally good today.

21 (or title fight.)

today has been an emotional rollercoaster. but good news comes from good people and i know i know i know i'm just too hard on myself all the time.

duh i miss you! will send the letters today then just figured it would take longer then that. i booked --------- again in may 2 days after you get back so you will get to see them!!!

i'll have a homecoming show. that's awesome. that week is going to rule with so many good feelings and i can't believe everything that's happening.

so that means i'm thinking about summer. absolutely frustrated with trying to figure out collegiate things today, but it seems to be an enduring process that will get figured out sooner or later, and to my benefit, hopefully. but SUMMER. half nomad, half home. home? what is home? where is home?

I don't know if I'm good, and everyone knows it
You ever feel you were meant to be alone?
Because I saw a play and a character said
that he was destined to never feel at home
Don't go tonight, I'm looking for salt in a snow globe
Because what I had is slipping fast.
Dr. Howe, Please call back
I'm not sleeping in, I don't care
I'm singing loud but no one hears
I'll wake up tomorrow and still feel wrong for these days
What I had is slipping fast
Dr. Howe Please call me back.



january, 2008. anaheim, ca.
i saw that photo this morning and started crying. there are days where i feel absolutely stripped of my skin, my protective layer of friends all over the place and as much as i want to scream i'm still here far away and i feel like i'm caught in some sort of soundproof, bulletproof box. i got so flustered with my feelings that i had to walk away, go on a walk, somewhere off campus to clear my head. i ended up at the quaker library checking out more books that will subdue whatever cravings i have for home comfort. is that why i read so much these days? in the meantime i'm trying not to have my heart spill all over the keyboard and i know the whole not always accessible thing is GOOD in the long run (right?) but somedays it's just too difficult.

i will not relapse into old patterns.

these feelings are bookends to an ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC spring break.

we began in the small town of san vicente in the nicoya peninsula, spending a few hours in the artisan ceramic community. from there we went to palo verde to check out the dry forest. believe it or not, the dry forest is the opposite of the rain forest. surprise! it was super hot and all the trees lose their leaves, like in the winter for deciduous North American trees. the following day we hiked out to the limestone cliffs (that came from the OCEAN MILLIONS OF YEAR AGO) and talked about megafauna and evolutionary anachronisms. later we went out for some birdwatching and Emma almost stepped on a baby crocodile. Stayed to watch the sunset over the Guanacaste reserve and came back after dinner to listen to the frogs and look at stars.

I think the first genuine "take my breath away" moment of this trip was after we entered Nicaragua on the Monday, as we passed the windmills. next week we're going to the Tilaran windmills here in Costa Rica, but the absolute precision and mechanical beauty of these massive windmills in the middle of a somewhat deserted, hilly landscape, it hit me harder than any other sight I've seen, which feels odd to acknowledge. At any rate, we were in Nicaragua. We stopped by the ferry and the boys ran into Lake Nicaragua for some brief swimming. And behind them, the volcanoes. The water was perfect. We continued on to Granada, a Spanish-colonial town still under the mass tourist radar. My mom came here in the fall of 2007 and was obsessed with the doors. I completely understand why. For the first time since I was a photo intern for National Geographic (summer 2005), I had the pure motivation, and somewhat of a need, to go out and shoot film. I went out for a couple hours as soon as we got into Granada, and then the following morning at sunrise. I loved it. It was also possible I loved it for the ability to get away from the mass group of my peers.

Most of my time in Nicaragua was spent with Matt, who's become my salsa partner now for the remainder of this Central American adventure, grabbing the attention of locals and tourists alike. Even outside of that particular situation, he accompanied
me on some of my photographic journeys and was just a genuinely good companion throughout this part of spring break (well, in general).

Okay, so after Granada things went up in the air. We ended up not able to go to Ometepe, so the group changed plans to go to San Juan del Sur, a smallish surf bum town on the Pacific Coast. There was a little too much spring break attitude for me but it was nice to be at the beach on my own time and own accord.



We headed back to Costa Rica with the masses splitting off into smaller groups. I headed to Playa Junquillal, a black sand beach on the Nicoya Peninsula with eight other members of the group. We stayed at a small hotel run by an older German-Tica couple who were absolutely sweet and made it impossible to not be in love with the place. We were 100 meters from the beach. The town itself was made up of mainly older (post-40 years old) tourists or retirees, and a relatively large German population. We settled in on Thursday, spending the remaining but of the day after our arrival walking on the beach. On Friday we spent the morning playing in the surf and the afternoon RIDING HORSES ACROSS THE BEACH.

okay. I used to ride horses. I worked at a stable for multiple years during my adolescence, but haven't been on a horse since in multiple years. I was not going to pass this opportunity up. My horse was named Fandango (like the dance, not the online movie site). He was a smaller and less prestigious version of Rex, the horse I used to ride. Fandango had an attitude, a good attitude, but an attitude nonetheless. He just wanted to run. I wanted to run. We ended up running. It was great. I mean, quite possibly the happiest moment of my break, absolute, pure happiness.

On Saturday Emma and I walked down to Playa Blanca, which isn't really a white sand beach as much as millions and millions of little pieces of shell. We met the rest of the group, who had gone kayaking in the mangroves that morning (there weren't enough kayaks so Emma and I were going to go on Sunday, but that ended up falling through), and went snorkeling. It was my first time, and I enjoyed it a ton. I saw soooo many fish, and Emma saw an OCTOPUS. We returned to the hotel at sunset and Rainer (the owner) made us this absolutely fantastic dinner.

The later nights were spent playing card games and other camp-like activities. I really like Hearts. I also learned I am hyperallergic to mosquito bites, among other insect bites.

On Sunday we spent the morning at the beach, Katie almost got destroyed by a Stringray but ducked just in time. In the midafternoon we headed back to Monteverde, our cold, misty, work-filled residence, and as I listen to the Smiths I wonder in whose arms I will fall asleep (inevitably the carseat's, for now).

So that's where we are now. The final month of class, research proposals all coming together. We're all stressed, we're all overwhelmed, but we're in that time between the introduction and the immersion in our projects, so it's scary, the amount of work we have to do to get everything done in the next month. but it will get done, it will get done well (as Matt told me the other day, "we could never do mediocre work because we don't know how to."). We just have to, you know, do it.