Mantenidos

I first discovered younger Costa Rican men had a thing for older women last year when I was in Sámara. Guys as young as 23 sat at my dinner table speaking in Spanish, asking me to go out dancing, or to have drinks. I mentioned it to another female solo traveler my age at the hotel where I stayed. She said it hadn’t happened to her. But I knew better than to be flattered. Okay, maybe I was a little flattered.

This year my Spanish is better. I asked Marvin, a man my age who sat with me at a table at a restaurant he owned about this phenomenon. He introduced me to the term “mantenidos.” Mantenidos refers to young men who are literally maintained or supported by wealthy women. The woman is engaged in maintener, the verb for maintaining. There is no word for sugar mama. In Mexico, there is a phrase that translates to cradle robber, robacunas,but that is a different concept.

To make sure I understood Marvin correctly, I asked the owner of my favorite little soda, as the small family restaurants are called, if she had heard of mantenidos. Every Spanish speaking female in the restaurant had something to say and they were not nice things. Reina told me her son brought home an ugly woman. I had seen both of her sons many times. They are very handsome surfers. The woman one son brought home (which was the same place as the restaurant by the way) was as ugly as something I didn’t understand, but judging from her facial expression, the woman was butt ugly. Her son didn’t care. All his food and drinks were free. She complained to him but it didn’t bother him.

The waitress, the one who prompted my earlier entry on sexiness, spoke with such urgency I had to ask her to slow down. Her main point was these women have an unfair advantage because they have money. She is disgusted by mantenidos. They don’t really like these women, they just want someone to take care of them.

There was a chorus of damnation from the other Ticas who were folding napkins and closing up the soda.

As for me, I have the money to pay for drinks and meals for 25 year old Ticos. But how could I hang out with them knowing I have two sons younger than them? I would constantly think of my son’s faces. Ick. This is assuming I wasn’t happily married, which I am. Sugar Daddies don’t seem to have this problem from what I can tell. And maybe all Sugar Mamas are not be like me. Maybe they have standards that the young men must be older than their children. I don’t know. Maybe next up I will find a Sugar Mama and interview her.

Back In Costa Rica

I’m back in Sámara, Costa Rica for my annual spiritual cleansing and gift to myself, blessed by my family, to follow my bliss as Joseph Campbell would say. As the plane left the borders of the United States from Houston, my connection from Denver, I unintentionally sighed with relief–no more blow-by-blow accounts of President Trump’s antics from the White House, whether it be his so called Southern White House at Mar-a-Lago in Florida, his Manhattan White House, or what every other President called the White House in Washington, D.C.

My relief was short-lived. The woman seated next to me on the plane, the kind of person who talks too much when she is nervous, defended each day of her and her husband’s whirlwind ten day journey through Costa Rica. She described in a strong Texas accent that bordered on giddy, the towns they intended to visit with their private driver. They were hitting every major tourist site about which I had ever read. My preference is to pick a place and stay put, learning about the culture and becoming as much of a local as possible. But it seems to me that most people from the U.S. prefer to jump from town to town cramming in as much as possible when they go on vacation, no matter where they go. This does not sound relaxing to me, but everyone has their own concept of a vacation I suppose.

As we were landing, Ms. Texas spotted three U.S. Army helicopters parked at the airport and asked, “What are those doing here?”

“Costa Rica does not have its own military–“, I said. Before I could finish she chimed in.

“So we just pay to protect other countries?”

“It’s in our best interest. Those helicopters track shipments of cocaine coming from Columbia up to the U.S. The U.S.A. is the largest consumer of illegal drugs in the world. The helicopters inform the Costa Rican police and Coast–”

“I don’t want to talk politics,” she said.

And that was my interaction with a Trump supporter. Earlier in the flight, when she tried to disguise her horror that I was traveling alone, I explained I spent two years learning Spanish. She grumbled, “I probably should since they are taking over.” I knew who “they” were but I wondered what they were taking over.

“Trump’s immigration policy will certainly impact the number of Mexicans in Houston,” I said.

“He’s got to do something.”

She seemed educated from out initial conversation, but she only figured out where Costa Rica was after looking at the map in Hemispheres Magazine published by United Airlines and left in the seat pocket.

“Oh, it’s this skinny part under Mexico,” she said to her husband.

Yeah, as in Central America. Who goes on a trip without knowing where they are going first?

More troublesome to me is the way her hands went over her ears when information was conveyed that did not jive with her view of the world. She preferred to believe the U.S. was protecting Costa Rica at great expense to our government with no benefit to the U.S. I may be crazy, but the hands over the ears seems to be what Trump supporters do. How else did a brash alleged billionaire who admits he grabs pussies get elected?

The fact is the U.S. must secure permits to land those helicopters with machine guns at the Liberian airport and that is not a rubber stamp process. My observation from the seven times I have visited this country is the locals do not use cocaine. If it is used here, it is by foreigners. Costa Rica is on the State Department’s list of drug running countries because Columbian drug runners stash supplies in the woods in Costa Rica for later pick up by another runner. This is where the U.S. Army comes in and patrols the coastal waters looking for drug runners. They inform the Costa Rican authorities (Costa Rica does have a Coast Guard) and Costa Rica gets the credit for a drug bust.

But Ms. Texas didn’t want to hear this. I’m sure she covered her ears about his pussy grabbing, too. And did she really want to know she was going on vacation so far away from the U.S.? She didn’t even know until she got on the plane. This xenophobia and immigrant-bashing gets on my nerves. If you are going to be like that, at least learn where your country is in relation to the rest of the world. And consider your status when you visit another country on vacation. What right do you have to be there? Why should that country let you visit?

It’s a privilege to once again visit this beautiful country. I am careful to use the formal you in Spanish. Although the informal “tu” is acceptable in Mexico, “usted” is the polite form in Costa Rica. I sometimes slip but I know how to say “lo siento”, I am sorry, a phrase that comes in handy in many languages, I’m sure. For example, I’m sorry I brought up politics in my first post concerning getting away from politics.

Culture Shock Upon Re-Entry To The USA

Dwight

I have one day left in this beautiful country where howler monkeys swing from trees in front on me while I sip coffee at dusk, where the sunsets are red, where armadillos and porcupines root around on the ground at dawn, where parrots are not in cages and where the cacophony of insects, reptiles and birds lulls me to sleep at night.  I am nervous about going back to Colorado after 31 days here, and not just because it is cold and snowy there.

I’m afraid I will fail to incorporate the things I have learned here into my daily life and I will go right back into being a materialistic person, ensconced in a big house that keeps out nature.  Sure, it will be nice not to have to pick bugs out of my juice and shower without ants, and drip with sweat at 7:30 a.m. as I’m doing now, but I’m talking about the bigger stuff.  Will I make it a point to find out what time the sun sets and go watch it?  Will I continue to rise at dawn because after all of these days, my circadian rhythm is in tune with the sun?  Will I continue to be active, not because it is exercise but because I want to see things and it is a mode of transportation, such as hiking?

And then there are the biggest things.  One night last week I received real insight into Tico families. One of their biggest holidays is Semana Santa, or Easter Week.  Everyone from San Jose and all across the country rushes to the beaches (where I am) and sets up tarps and chairs and blares boom boxes and dines from their ice chests.  It is a tremendous party and traffic comes to a complete halt wherever you go if it is towards a beach.  It is quite the scene.

Well at the little hotel to which I had escaped to get some air-conditioning (okay, I’m soft, but it has been hard to sleep at the house I rented when the temperature is 98 degrees!), I met a Tico family.  The 28 year old marketing executive from San Jose was very patient with me and we spoke only in Spanish.  His 11 year old niece and mother only spoke Spanish.  They invited me to a different beach and I invited them to dinner.  I could tell the expense concerned them so I chose a place where we could split a pizza.    I learned that Daniela lived with her grandmother because her mother was beginning a new life with her new fiancé.  Dwight continued to live with his mother, even though he has a girlfriend and a job, because that is how it is done in Costa Rica.  A 21 year old brother  with a baby and the grandfather also live at their home in San Jose.

I did not do a good job hiding my shock to learn Daniela’s mother had “abandoned” her so she could run off with a new man.  When I asked why Daniela did not live with her mother, the grandmother seemed to thing I was estupido and answered that her daughter needed to start a new life.  All three of them looked at me like I was crazy.  Of course beautiful Daniela was going to live with with her grandmother and two cousins who loved her.  And there is my point.  There seems to be no distinction between immediate family and extended family in Costa Rica.  Cousins are as good as sisters and all are welcome to live in each other’s homes.  I have noticed this when I ask questions of other Ticos.  I ask who they live with and they initially say my brother but it turns out it is really a nephew.

So back to the biggest things–family.  There’s a saying in the US when family comes to stay with you that family is like fish:  After three days you throw them out.  (Notice I do not say American anymore.  I got chewed out by a Tico for saying that.  He said, “We are all Americans.”  He was correct.)  So personally, I would like to get rid of that idea of fish and family in my psyche.  The Ticos have it right.  I watch the way my son adores his cousins.  My son is basically an only child since my two older boys are 12 and 14 years older than him.  So when he sees his cousins, he’s in heaven.  Unfortunately, they moved from Denver to Minneapolis.  But we have airplanes.  I need to help strengthen those bonds.  I picked this family.  My husband’s family is awesome.  My son could see more of them.  I do not have to just talk about the importance of family but I need to show it, even when it is not convenient for me or it is not necessarily what I want to do.

And another biggest thing is materialism.  My Spanish teacher wore the same shorts to school three days out of four.  I am positive she knew how cute she looked in them. Ticos do not care as much about material things as US people do.  For us, it is always a rush to have the latest iPhone and the newest MacBook and the coolest car.  Ticos do not seem to have the sense of entitlement that we have grown up having.  Yet I have to repeat myself from previous posts, all polls show they are the happiest people on Earth.

For Ticos, a biggest thing is ecology.  I mention this last because in Colorado, most of us are very good at recycling, taking care of our forests, and conservation.  This comes pretty naturally to me from 37 years of living in Boulder, Denver and Fraser.

So I gave myself, and my husband said take it, unlimited freedom to explore myself while exploring Costa Rica and working on my Spanish.  I have shared what I have learned through these posts.  The real challenge begins when I hit US soil, hopefully on time, tomorrow night.

I want to plan a trip with my son to visit his cousins this summer when school is out.  I may make this break from work permanent since my son is entering those dangerous years–those teenage years that can be so crazy.  I want to be around for him.  I want to stop my addiction to Zappos.com (I’m a VIP member) and take a walk or look up the time for the sunset and go watch it.  I already have at least 100 pairs of shoes to walk around in!  Even though I am renting out our home in the mountains, I am going to  make it a point to get up there and hike and kiss a tree, seriously.

I am so grateful for all of the things I have in my life, whether I need them or not.  At this moment, after being here in Costa Rica on my solo adventure, I am most grateful for having a loving family, and a loving extended family.  I am grateful we have a second home in the mountains to use as a base for mountain biking, although now slower hikes to appreciate the beauty of the trees and trail and streams are what I am after.

My husband said he needed to purge some of his junk.  After this trip, I think a purge of things I do not need is a great idea.  It will be a big pile.  After all, we really do not need much in the way of material items.  I have learned that here.

I continue to feel nervous.  As soon as I arrive in Houston I imagine myself freaking out when I see a Starbucks.  I have not seen one for 30 days.  I do not care for Starbucks at all.  I prefer independent coffee shops.  I imagine Texans will be very loud and that will make me anxious.  People here are very tranquil.  I imagine the person sitting next to me on the plane asking me why I have such a nice tan, and I will say, “Because I was in Costa Rica at the beach,” as I put my headphones on.

Asking For Directions From Latin Men Is A Touchy Feely Business

So believe it or not, after 17 straight days at the beach, I got bored.  I was doing things other than going to the beach, but I wanted to take going to the beach off my list.  The amount of time I could stand sitting in a chair reading a book got smaller and smaller until all I could do was swim in the ocean, have lunch and go back to my rental house to paint, write, read and practice my photography skills.

I decided to take a trip to Monteverde, a cloud forest that is 3 1/2 hours inland from here at a much higher elevation where it is considerably cooler.  It is also a rainforest and not dry like Guanacaste where I am now.  I was not sure what to expect.

Since childhood, I’ve suffered from carsickness.  So against the advice of all guidebooks and tour guides, I rented a car and drove myself.  There is a reason the guidebooks and tour companies advise against this.  For some unknown reason, in a country that depends on tourism, there are no road signs to tell you where you are headed, where to turn or where the next Estación Gasolina is.  Monteverde is one of the country’s biggest tourist attractions.  I did not see a single sign for it until I was there.  I passed through many very small villages with streets made of cobblestone that dead-ended at an intersection.  Should I go left or right?

So, luckily, I have been studying Spanish for a year and a half and studied it here intensely for a week, four hours a day.  I practice as much as possible in a tourist town where the Ticos speak better English than I speak Spanish.  But few people speak English in the tiny towns I found myself lost in after four wheeling towards Monteverde.

Now here’s the touchy feely part.  I see a person who looks like he might know his way around.  I’m sitting in my car.  I say, “Disculpe me,” for excuse me.  The señor comes over to my window and I ask the ruta to Sámara.  He gives me directions I understand, thank God, because all three times this happened I was going in the opposite direction, but it doesn’t stop there.  All three times I asked directions they were of men in their mid-60’s and older.  They wanted to see exactly how much gasoline I had in my tank because apparently everyone keeps a little extra in their homes for emergencies so they stuck their heads in and looked–each of them.  Then came the chit chat about where I was from, how long I was staying and so on.  But the surprising thing is all three men in some way touched me in kind of a younger daughter way, even though I’m not that young and one man’s wife was standing there.

The first man was all smiles and after I said, “Feliz Samana Santa”, basically Happy Easter which they celebrate for a week, he reached into the car, I kid you not, and began stroking my hair saying “muy linda.”

The next man was in an even smaller town, gave me the directions I needed, and then told me how he used to know English when he was younger and an economics professor.  As I was leaving, he reached inside my window and stroked my left arm up and down very lightly and sensitively, wishing me luck.

The third man seemed to be in his seventies.  He directed me back into the opposite direction then put his hand on my hand and patted it.

Can you imagine a women in the US asking a man for directions and he begins stroking her hair!?  He’d get an assault charge.  But there is a cultural difference here.  I don’t know if it’s a Latin man thing unique to Costa Rica or if all Latinos do it.

I’m just now reminded that it is not just the older guys who do this.  I was walking across a tributary toward the ocean to watch the sun set one day two weeks ago.  It was thigh high in the middle, with signs all around warning of crocodiles.  But many Ticos cross it every day.  The next thing I know a Tico, about 32, has grabbed my camera bag and is holding it over his had and holding my hand across the slippery rocks.  We got to the other side and he didn’t try to French kiss me or anything.  I just said thank you and moved on.

I also noticed at dinner the waiter rubbed my neck while I was reading my book–I mean it took 10 seconds but he rubbed my neck.

Personal space is different here between men and women and not just when asking directions.

And another thing.  I stopped at the Tourist Information Center at Monteverde.  It seemed I had a lot in common with the 21 year old who worked there regarding nature, what it does for your soul and sense of well-being, how the air is fresher, you know, that kind of hippy talk.  As I was leaving to begin my hike, he hugged me and told me he loved me.  Now, that must mean something different here.  Or, in the US we’re too uptight to use it often when we connect with someone.  He wasn’t saying let’s go on a date.  It was not sexual.  He just loved the connection.

My massage therapist Wendy told me she loved me, too after the second massage (and there were no happy endings).  I’ve observed Latinos have a different way of expressing their happiness about a new friend, and a lot of it involves touching.

Come to think about it, I walked into the small Sámara grocery store the other day and the two male clerks had their arms around each other, singing a song that was on the radio.  You’d never see that among two straight guys in the US.

I just googled “Latinos and hugging” and it turns out there is a lot written about this cultural difference between Latinos and other countries.  But maybe they’ve got it right.

I know I always felt loved growing up in New York by the constant kissing and hugging from my friends’ Italian families.  It turns out there is science to support giving lots of hugs.

A U.S. News Report dated February 3, 2016 reports that hugging reduces stress, increases the happy hormone serotonin, boosts your immune system, reduces stress, lowers blood pressure and overall, increases your sense of well-being.  So we’re back to the phenomenon of Costa Ricans being the happiest people in the world, with four times less the gross domestic product of the US, and 20% of its citizens living below the poverty level.

I’ve had my share of hair petting, arm stroking, hand holding and neck rubs for today, but I’m going to be sure to work in as many hugs as possible when I return to Colorado.

Hug someone today and see what they do.  Then hug a Latino or Latina and see if there is a difference.  I like the tradition.Monteverde-43

The cloud forest at Monteverde Costa Rica

Sunshine, Mental Health and Choosing Not To Be A Forest Ranger

Long beach

(This is Playa Sámara on a typical Tuesday.)

I have been in Sámara for 16 days.  It has been brilliantly sunny every single day.  There are several very real psychiatric problems that respond positively to sunlight.  Take depression for example.  Many of the meds doctors dole out are designed to keep seratonin in your body by preventing its re-uptake (selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors or SSRI’s such as Prozac and Paxil).  Among many scientific studies, Jeffrey Rossman writes in his book Mind Body Mood Solution that exposure to sunlight produces seratonin in your body.  Seratonin increases your feelings of well-being.  It lifts depression.  In an article the author wrote for Women’s Health, Rossman notes that exposure to sunlight lifts depression in just a week compared to antidepressants that take up to four to six weeks to become effective.

We are part of nature.  We are meant to be outside.  Costa Ricans seem to understand this.  Their homes are built with the central living area, the kitchen, outside.  They sleep with the windows open and screen to protect them from insects (and often bars to protect them from intruders).  The restaurants are open-air with fans above.  Even the grocery stores are wide open until night time when iron gates close off the front.  The overall effect is anyone who lives here is in tune with the sunlight.  Breakfast is prepared a little bit after sunrise and dinner is enjoyed 12 hours later around sunset, all outside.

Getting the right amount of sunshine at the right time is not a problem here.  Since Costa Rica is so close to the equator, the days are roughly as long as the nights.

But in places like Denver where the days are short in the winter and often too cold to go outside, many shrinks recommend light boxes.  These boxes are popular in Canada where they are made.  They provide full spectrum light.  You sit in front of the light while working or reading for about an hour.  The light boxes take the place of being outside in the sunlight.  The full spectrum light enters your retina and your brain produces serotonin.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, the overall effect of being outside when the sun rises and sets impacts your circadian rhythm so that your body knows when to wake up and when to go to sleep.  For depressed people, sleep problems are common.  So getting outside would not only increase serotonin and one’s sense of well-being, but it would help regulate the sleep cycle.  Depression is awful and it can make people stay awake all night where they end up looking at the light from a computer screen  further  disrupting the sleep cycle with the unnatural light, causing the person to be exhausted the next day and more depressed.

In the US, most people spend most of their time indoors.  Working inside an office building, especially where there is no window, is literally depressing!

While I was writing this, I remembered that when I was little, I wanted to be a forest ranger.  I held on to this dream up until college.  And then someone said to me, “Being a forest ranger is just law enforcement.”  Well that killed my dream.  I did not want to be in law enforcement.  (Some of you who know me are chuckling right now.)  I was picturing a policeman walking through the forest writing tickets for fishing without a license.  I had something more in mind that involved communing with nature and spotting endangered wildlife.

Looking back, I gave up that dream of being a forest ranger too quickly.  So what if part of it involved law enforcement?  I would have spent my entire working day outside, walking, or maybe riding a horse as my acquaintance does, through wilderness areas in Colorado, where State publications claim we have 300 days of sunshine a year.  The sun would certainly stave off the blues and be good for my sleep cycle.  Also, as I mentioned in two previous posts, a study has proved that finding beauty in nature increases your sense of well-being.  As a forest ranger, imagine getting to see the wildflowers all the time and the hummingbirds feeding from flowers not red plastic containers from the hardware store.   That’s a big dose of well-being!

The physical surroundings of my job have always been important to me.  I have opted for a small office with a view of the mountains over a large office with nicer furnishings.  I arranged my office furniture at my first job so I could see a small slice of the mountains even though it made the office look ridiculous.  So writing this post I’m just thinking, wow, a forest ranger would have the best physical  surroundings ever, and now there’s evidence that it would have improved my health.

I cannot go back and be a forest ranger.  But I can make it a point to get lots of sun and pay attention when I’m outside–find the natural beauty that is all around.  As a bonus, I will keep the blues at bay, increase my sense of well-being and sleep well.  I knew when we came as a family at Christmas time to Costa Rica that I loved it, I just did not understand why.  I think the answer is beginning to come to me.  The physical surroundings are making me happy.

 

Living With The Jungle, Not In It

Costa Ricans have built their homes to accommodate the jungle, not keep it out. The kitchens are built outside with gas stoves and ovens around a patio, usually with a brick wall surrounding the area. A tin roof is above the cooking area in case it rains. There is a bar area for eating and also a table and chairs. The bedrooms are inside along with the bathrooms which use a septic tank. Apparently, most of the electricity is from renewable energy sources.

I am staying off a dirt road in a newer remodeled home about 3/4 mile from the town of Sámara. So it’s not like I’m out in the boonies. In two weeks, I’ve done battle with a relentless raccoon (they call them something different) who successfully opened the composting bin and was gorging on watermelon rinds. Another night, an animal was making such a racket, I went outside my room (I sleep with the screens closed and metal bars locked) to investigate. My flashlight discovered a huge armadillo rooting around in big pile of sticks for God knows what. What a prehistoric creature. I had never seen one before. He just waddled from pile to pile rooting around near the kitchen.  It was a hilarious sight.

Another time, I got up at sunrise and sat down at the kitchen bar area with my coffee and watched a porcupine sniff the ground for about five minutes. I wasn’t about to go near him but he was pretty cute.

And then there is the usual thunderous sound of about eight horses coming down the dirt driveway heading for an open field next to the house. Around here, horse owners just let their horses roam around free. Well there is food in the field near the kitchen  so the horses come. The owner gathers them up on the weekends  trying to get the tourists to take rides.

And of course, there are the howler monkeys. The first time I heard them I thought a horrible beast was coming to get me. They make a horrifying sound like a roaring jaguar, but they are the sweetest, most gentle of the four monkey species in Costa Rica. They come right up to the kitchen area, which is of course their eating area since it’s surrounded by trees, and make their terrifying noises at sunset as they enjoy their vegetarian meal.

There are so many opportunities to observe the beauty of nature without leaving the kitchen it is unbelievable. And I haven’t even talked about the secret beach!

As I noted in an earlier post, in The Journal of Environmental Psychology, Jei Wei Zhang concludes: “Engagement with natural beauty moderates the positive relation between connectedness with nature and psychological well-being.” Well-being was highest for those that connect with nature and perceive natural beauty.  For me, seeing all of these creatures in their natural habitat is stunningly beautiful.  And the Costa Ricans have gotten it right.  Instead of blocking out these sights and sounds, they put the most important part of the home, the kitchen, outside, and that is where they hang out in the evenings, along with bizarre armadillos, howler monkeys and who knows what other creatures.  Yes, I believe the way they orient their homes feeds into why they are the happiest people on Earth.

There may be downsides US folks don’t like.  For example, I live with a gecko in my room.  She’s not a problem and is quite pretty.  And there are good reasons for eating outside.  I left a cup of mango juice next to the daybed for about five minutes and it was filled with no see’ums.  An ant is crawling across my computer screen right now because the rest of the room is dark.  In fact, one can almost always see ants on the walls looking around for food. They are tiny ants that can get through screens.  But to me, it’s a small price to pay to see a howler monkey fall out of a tree (he was fine), a horse block the road so she could feed her baby, a cow walking aimlessly down the road toward the beach and an armadillo bury and unbury itself in piles of muck while I laughed out loud.  As Kurt Cobain sang, “I think I’m happy now.”  (In the end, I guess he wasn’t, but I like those lyrics.)Monkeys-5

Freedom to Learn Spanish and go to School over Age 45

Yesterday I attended my fourth and final day of Spanish language school at the Intercultural School here in Sámara, a school right on the beach.  The school provides lockers and showers along with a changing room just in case you want to jump into the ocean before an afternoon class.  Classes are four hours long and intense.  Most students appeared to be either in college or just out of college.  A few looked like they were killing time after high school.  I felt pretty funny and not in a “ha-ha” sort of way.

The last time I focused on anything for four straight hours was binge watching Jessica Jones on Netflix.  Before that it was binge watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix.  But I was never embarrassed in front of other people by an overly enthusiastic Latina quizzing me about the quality of Jessica’s super powers or why she waited so long to replace her front door sign or her relationship to her sister.  No one quizzed me on whether the lead character in OITNB (I cannot even remember her name) was actually a lesbian or was just experimenting since she in fact had a male fiancé.  I was watching, thinking I was paying attention.

Paying attention for four hours in Spanish class was a whole other thing.  I was expected to absorb what la maestra was saying, in Spanish, on the spot and get quizzed on it.  There are something like 15 rules for when you use “por” instead of “para”!  Who knew!  And I was supposed to remember them right after she taught them to us.  It was like going to school at a university, a place I have a vague memory of attending for seven years, first for graduate work, and then for law school, 30 years ago.

Luckily, or probably on purpose, I got to answer the question last, since I had no idea most of the time what I was supposed to do.  I just imitated the Swiss guy’s form and added my own ending.  One time I though the question was “What do you like about women?”  The question was actually, “What do you like about being a woman?”  My first answer was very embarrassing.

I tried my charming trick of asking the teacher questions such as “Do you like the president?”, to get her to slow down.  (She doesn’t.  He is “muy mal”).  I even asked about Columbian drug running  and  her favorite restaurants.  This just succeeded in having the whole class stay after the bell rang.  So much for that plan.  But I kept trying.  I was much more interested in politics than what I liked about being a woman.

In most of the school, inside and out, you can only speak Spanish.  After the first class, one twenty-something guy was bragging about drinking 15 beers  in the area where you were allowed to speak any language, and he could not remember what he did the night before.  A cute European woman told him not to worry, that she had it all on camera.  Now how exactly was he able to pay attention in class at 8:00 a.m.?  I, on the other hand, had finished the 1:00 class at 5:00, went out for dinner, rode my bicycle home, took a shower, and fell asleep at 7:30 on the day bed, working on my homework.  I never fell asleep during a Jessica Jones episode.  I don’t think we are meant to go to college after age 30 at the latest–it’s unnatural.  It’s also lonely.

Since the 20 something’s had a lot in common, i.e., they were the same age and liked to drink, they formed big groups and went out at night.  I do not feel bad that they did not invite me.  I have not stayed up past 9:30 since I arrived and I do not drink.  But you would think the school could market to a few adults.  Out of about 100, there were 4 people over 40, and no one in the middle.  Of course, I’m not sure that would improve my party life.  I would still opt for the early bird special (there is no such thing here, I’m referring to dinner at 5:00 or earlier), catch the sunrise at 5:45, and head back to my room to do my homework, which translates into falling asleep at 7:30 p.m.  So, I guess I don’t really care that I had nothing in common with the other students.  I’m not even sure they were at the school to learn Spanish.  The US guys seemed intent on picking up European women.

Also, most of them were doing an immersion program where they stay in a room with a Tico family.  From what I understand, the TV stays on all day and lots of kids are running around.  I suppose that’s why most of the students hang out at the school doing their homework and hang around on the beach.  There is no air-conditioning in Tico homes and with typical days in the mid-90’s, the school’s air-conditioning offered welcome relief.  Also, there is no wi-fi in  most Tico homes, although the school had it.

I have no air-conditioning in my bottom level rooms either, but I have wi-fi and I do not share my backyard or bathroom.  And, I have figured out how to place the three fans in each room for maximum coolness, moving them to the gated open sliding doors at night, then closing the curtains during the day.  There is no TV.

However, I just received an e-mail the Marvel comic hero Daredevil is out on Netflix which is available in Costa Rica.  I won’t be missing any sunsets, and I have plenty of pictures of monkeys, and now I have no homework.  Would I be bad to binge on just a couple of Daredevil episodes?  I do get a little lonely for the US sometimes and Daredevil reminds me of my husband who is the first to see all Marvel comic movies.  This one is about a blind lawyer who is Catholic and goes after the bad guys but cannot hurt them too badly because he’s Catholic.  It’s really good and has nothing to do with Costa Rica.  A little indulgence to appease loneliness?