Su Casa es Mi Casa
My first day as a temporary Tico
After a late final night in Arenal, my sleepy eyes peer out the window of the bus as we bump along the gravel roads. Even with the spectacular views, I can’t resist drifting off. My desired sleep seems to last only five minutes, and I find myself surprisingly grateful to be arriving back at the UGA campus. After a quick lunch of rice and beans and a whirlwind of clothes flying from one bag to another, my belongings are ready to be transferred to my temporary Costa Rican home. I remember going back and forth in my mind months before committing to study abroad about whether or not this program would benefit me. My main goal of the trip would be to improve my ability to speak Spanish, so I decided that the only way I could do was to be forced communicate, and a homestay would be the perfect opportunity. However, I didn’t expect to be so nervous when he time came to leave the UGA campus and travel to meet my family.
My knee shakes nervously throughout my Spanish and English classes. What if we can’t understand each other? What if the kids don’t like me? What if I can’t remember how to say something important? Countless questions bounce around my head until I find myself stepping into the van to head off to my temporary home.
The timid drizzle of rain is a lot like how I’m feeling — I want to be all in, but part of me is holding back. I can’t avoid the butterflies fluttering around my stomach. I watch as ten of my compañeros are greeted by their families, and I feel slightly more at ease as I see their open arms. I am the last person left in the car and my anticipation builds slightly as it takes the driver ten minutes to close the malfunctioning trunk. I try to focus on the fact that two parents have happily asked for me to join their home and that their three children want one more (temporary) sibling. “Alfredo, Elvia, Mariana, Santiago, Ariel,” I repeat over and over so I can at least avoid forgetting their names when I can’t seem to remember how to speak Spanish. I force a nervous laugh when we reach the driveway and the driver exclaims, “Oh the luggage is gone!” The finicky trunk proved to be no match for the bumpy Monteverde hills. “I hope nobody takes it before we find it.” I’m not sure if the driver is joking or not at this point. I now realize that I’m worrying slightly less about meeting my family. “There it is!” points Jeremy, a campus naturalist, who later apologizes and notes that he’ll never hire that van company again. Although it is wet from the rain, my bag is okay. I pray to myself that everything is going to be okay.
We pull up to the house for the second time and I immediately notice the vivid exterior. The majority is a brilliant orange, almost matching the flowers decorating the porch. Sea blue curtains barely hide the bright green walls waiting for me inside. As I get closer, the array of flowers that occupy the front yard appear almost as though painted with shades of yellow, pink, and purple. After a timid knock just below the cross hanging on the door, a bright, smiling face greets me and introduces herself as Elvia, my host mom. I walk hesitantly into the house after removing my muddy sneakers and catch the stares of three niños. Elvia introduces them and I can finally put their names to a face. After an exchange of hola’s including one from the papa of the family, Alfredo, Elvia shows me to my room.
A neatly made bed shows off a Disney Princess blanket, which I would be resting upon for the next five nights. A hint a nostalgia pops into my mind as I think back to the Cinderella pillow that sat proudly in my childhood room. I carefully drop my bags and slide on the slippers provided to keep my feet warm in case the floor gets too cold at night. The moment I leave my room I hear the sizzling sound of fresh tilapia frying in the pan for dinner. I make my wait to the couch where ten-year-old Mariana instructs me to sit and begins to ask me any and everything that comes to mind. From questions about my age, my family, and details of the trip, to “Qué es su favorito…animal, color, thing to do…” she doesn’t miss a detail. Five-year-old Santiago, revealing the brightest brown eyes I have ever seen, rushes over, presenting the coloring book I had brought for them to share. “Do you want to draw?” he asks me in Spanish, and I politely let him choose a picture and a crayon, and I begin to color a soon-to-be blue monkey. Ariel grunts out of either curiosity or jealousy; it’s too soon for me to tell. Alfredo informs me that Ariel will turn one on Wednesday, three days from now. I wish him a happy almost-birthday, and Mariana informs me that I misunderstood, and that Ariel turned one last Wednesday. I apologize awkwardly, but I realize it doesn’t phase them. Elvia asks me if this is my first homestay, as if my nervous behavior isn’t enough proof. It comforts me that she’s hosted other students before me.
She heads over to the kitchen and I eagerly offer my help, but she tells me that dinner is almost ready. As Mariana and Santiago begin to set the table, Santi motions me to take a seat. “Muchacha.” He tries his best to remember my name, but resorts to Muchacha, which gets him in a bit of trouble each time he says it. I explain that since my name is pronounced differently in English, he can use the Spanish version.
The combination of rice and beans compliments the fish perfectly. After a long, stressful day, I hardly wait to devour my dinner. Elvia humbly explains that she, like most of the women in her family, works in the kitchen in the UGA Costa Rica campus. Knowing this only makes me more excited to dig into the meal in front of me. After I clean my plate, Mariana breaks out a deck of Disney’s Frozen playing cards and asks if I want to play “La Memoria.”
My memory is no match for her and Santi, who ruthlessly collect far more sets than I do. We head to Mariana’s bedroom after a few more rounds of cards along with an intense game of hide and seek. I sit on her bed and she sits down next to me to resume her interview. I reveal that my favorite animal is my dog, my favorite color is pink, and I used to like to do gymnastics, but now I enjoy going to the gym. She demonstrates her best attempt at the split before the questions progress. Doing my best to interpret her Spanish, she asks me where all I’ve been and where I would like to go. An exchange of details about our favorite places leads to a simple question and an unexpected yet remarkable response. “Quieres visitar a los Estados Unidos?”
In San Jose just a few days ago, I met a man on the street who could immediately tell by my pale complexion and bleach-blonde hair that I was not a Tico. “I want to visit the USA,” he explained in broken English. “I want to see New York City. Have you been? Is it nice?” he curiously asks. I tell him it’s a city with many sites and that I hope he gets to see them some day soon. This is the typical exchange I seem to have with people who want to visit the nation where I live.
I ask Mariana if she wants to visit the United States. She responds that she does not want to visit. I sit, confused about her response, when she asks me what my favorite class is and informs me that her’s is science. She then proceeds to show me her latest test, which presents a large red ‘A’ at the top of the page. Slowly, for my benefit, she explains that she does not simply want to visit los Estados Unidos. Rather, her cousins told her that if she works hard in school and keeps getting good grades, she can attend a university in America. I’m momentarily speechless. I had expected to meet three amazing little kids in my temporary home, but I never expected them to be so driven at such a young age. Something about Mariana reminds me of myself, but she’s much more brave. She doesn’t care if she has yet to learn English, asking with hesitation how to say various words in my first language, and responding with a clear and crisp “Thank you.”
Santi tags along as Mariana gives me a quick tour of the house. Elvia apologizes that the shower will be very cold, but I tell her I don’t mind. Even after the cold shower, I am grateful for their extreme generosity. And of course the rich, full-bodied cup of coffee occupying my hands begins to warm me up. Elvia tells me that her brother makes the coffee, and it somehow tastes even more fresco knowing it comes straight from the farm up the road.
At this point, it’s almost time for bed. With an irrational fear of bugs, I spray an excessive amount of 40% deet bug spray on myself and around the room, making sure no spot is left clean. Taking further precautionary measures, I grab leggings, a long-sleeved shirt, and tall songs, and do my best to pretend that los bichos don’t exist. I hear a light knock on the door; one that can only come from a small hand. I open the door to find Santi’s beaming expression to tell me buenas noches before he bounces off to bed. Ariel is already sleeping as Alfredo hurries off to work the night shift as a security guard on campus. Mariana asks me if I want to brush my teeth before they turn out the lights, and I follow her to the kitchen. I’m too embarrassed to tell her that I already brushed them in the shower because I didn’t know which sink to use. With my teeth feeling almost too clean, I say goodnight to Mariana and Elvia, who is preparing the kitchen for the morning. After one last hunt through my room, I turn out the light and crawl into bed. I wrap myself into a human burrito with my blanket and reach for my phone. Forgetting I have no service until “Message to Mum failed to send,” appears on the bright screen, I decide set my alarm and go to sleep. Just as I scroll to 6:15 am, a tiny winged creature speeds aggressively into the display. I frantically lock my phone and close my eyes. Tomorrow I’ll remember to tell my mom goodnight before I leave campus, and to keep my brightness down. I begin to say my nightly prayers, but don’t forget to add a simple request that I won’t encounter any more bugs.
I think through all of the things that could have gotten me down today; the rain, my runaway bag, my fear of a language barrier, the cold shower, and of course the bugs. However, none of these things compare to Mariana’s excitement about sharing her aspirations, Ariel’s laugh as Alfredo speaks with funny voices, Elvia’s delicious organic dinner, and Santiago’s contagious smile.
