Alison does Costa Rica

Hello readers- sadly my trip must come to an end, but the good news is that I am safely back in the USA. I arrived via the Miami airport where I was in total culture shock (even though half of the Miami airport was habla-ing Espanol). Thoughts racing through my mind included:
- (while in line at Burger King in airport). Yo quiero un... crap, how do I say Whopper Jr in Spanish? I guess I can say Pequeno for Jr. as that means small. I wonder if they use a different word for Whopper here. Wait. I am in the US..
- (while in bathroom at airport) Where is the wastebasket next to the toilet to throw away toilet paper? If I flush it is the toilet going to explode? Oh. nevermind. I am in America where we have advanced sewer systems.
Basically everything is running through my mind twice, in English and in Spanish.

Couple of closing photos and videos....!
First, me on surfboard. I wish I could tell you that I was getting on massively larger waves than this, but in reality, maybe only once or twice.

Finally, me in action teaching.

Given my obsession with seeing nesting turtles, I decided to take an overnight trip to Ostional Beach, about 2 hrs from my home in Samara. I regret to say that I have still not seen a nesting turtle. I did however have a very long and eventful day of travel.
After a sweaty 1.5 hr rocky bus ride where I had to stand in the aisle the whole way and hang on to the rail for dear life, I arrived in Nosara. Nosara is a pretty dumpy town where I was supposed to find a taxi to Ostional. I unfortunately learned upon arrival that the river was too high to cross in taxi. I conferred with several locals, and as usual got a variety of responses regarding the said overflowing river. Some claimed that I could walk 7K and cross the river by foot, some claimed I could take a motercycle, some claimed I could find this guy at the Supermarket with the giant truck.
At this point I was dripping with sweat and decided to just cut my losses and go to the rich American& Euro beach (aka The Hamptons) that was just 5K away. Some rip off taxi driver wanted to charge me $14 to get there, but then my knight on a white horse showed up (Canadian in air conditioned Ford Explorer) offering me a ride to the Hamptons.
He dropped me off at his Cali friend's hostel, which was a pretty hard core surfer hostel.... meaning me and 7 surfer dudes in an attic with a bunch of bunk beds. After they proceeded to prove their manliness via an impromtu pull up contest, we went to the beach where I watched them surf. After a while, I decided I wanted to go explore the town.
I walked around for about an hour, and it was starting to get dark so I figured I should get back to my hostel. Trouble is... I can't remember where the hostel is. I can't even remember the name of it. The streets are dark and windy with no people or no places of business. I tried to ask some locals where this hostal was, and the conversations went somewhat like this (I will try to translate my Spanish for you)
Me: I am lost. I to look for hostal of an American man.
Security guard at ritzy hotel: Hostal?
Me: Yes. HOSTAL. (repeating in more pronounced Spanish accent)
Guard: I do not understand.
Me: It is like cheap hotel.
Guard: What is the name of this hotel?
Me: I don't know. I forgot.
Guard: (laughing with other guard hysterically) You can stay in the hotel over there.
Me: I have things in hostal like passport and other clothes.
Guard: And you don't know the name?
Me: It is place with American surfers and is very cheap.
Guard, (Quizzical... points me to expensive hotel that I cannot afford.)
Me, totally embarrased and feeling like an absolute idiot, continue walking.
I walk around in the dark for another 30 minutes, starting to tear up, not because I am scared (I am in the middle of The Hamptons with like $500K houses all around ) but because I am totally embarrased, sweaty, and have to go to the bathroom.
Finally some girl mentions a bar that I remember was sort of by my hostal and I am able to make my way back.
The night ends up being pretty fun, I get dinner and drinks with the surfers, and then see the most brilliant starry night of my entire life.

Today started off with a what I believe was a near death experience.... I was walking down the street and almost stepped on a black & green colored snake. Several people have since confirmed that this snake was poisonous. Someone told me something along the lines of that if the snake bit me, my foot would have to be cut off, but I'm not really sure that's accurate as something may have gotten lost in translation.
Next, I arrive at school to find again we only have 2 hours of classes as most are mysteriously cancelled.
Finally, I encounter some neighborhood boys that want to know if I want to come with them to pick mangos from trees. (note: I know their families, they are not sketchy.) We get in the car and have the age discussion, at which point I confirm my suspicion that they are 17 & 18 yr old high school dropouts. They are seemingly disappointed to learn that I am 30. Next, we get to the mango farm, where we sort of have to slip through a barbed wire fence to get in. (They have assured me this is all cool, by the way.) The farm was beautiful, overlooking the ocean, and I ate the most delicious mango of life. At some point a truck comes down the dirt road and we have to run & hide behind a hill. So I learn that we are breaking and entering into this farm and I am stealing mangos, at age 30.
We then proceed back to the car where they smoke and blast Cypress Hill from the car stereo, dance around and try to look cool.
Final event of the day just transpired - I walked here via the beach and encountered this guy I have met once or twice. He asks to borrow $2, which he claims he will return to me within 1 hour. I think this involves drugs and politely decline.

Yesterday I was thinking that maybe I could quit my job and become a pro surfer, as I was getting up on all kinds of waves (allegedly, waves 4-5 ft high...according to questionable witness (questionable as he seems to be keen on finding an American girlfriend)). However today I was attacked by the board, meaning a gash on my left leg, a bruise on my right, a rash on my belly. Also, the ocean was not allowing me to stand up for some reason.
Think I need a bit of a break, which should be okay since tomorrow is Monday and school tends to actually take place early in the week (later in the week, school is often cancelled for mysterious ¨teacher meetings¨in other towns, futbol games, and rain.)
My teaching is going well and the kids seem to like me. I am somewhat a celebrity in town as everywhere I walk a little student is waving & yelling ¨Teacher, teacher!¨or Äll-ee-son.¨ This doesn´t mean they choose to listen in class or sit in their seats when I ask.

I love teaching the little Costa Rican kids, even though they are the most hyper children I´ve ever seen (perhaps Ritalin is not readily available in 3rd world countries). The 1st through 4th graders are fairly well behaved and listen to me some of the time (I´ve even received stickers and colored pictures from some of the girls). The 5th and 6th graders are more concerned with looking cool in front of their friends so I can´t really control them. It´s sort of like I get in front of the class and talk to myself in Spanglish while they fight, play games and yell at each other.
The younger children are lucky enough to witness my incredible vocal skills via the alphabet song and Old McDonald . We have also played Duck Duck Goose and a variation that I invented to teach more words which is Cat Cat Dog.
Fortunately, the teacher is going to be back on Monday and then I will be able to work with smaller groups in the classroom instead of having to manage all the chaos on my own.
After a 2 week hiatus I´m also back on the surfboard. Before you start picturing Blue Crush, imagine the size of waves you used to jump through when you were 8 years old in Florida.