#7 San Jose

My rash is getting better! The past week it has been very sensitive, painful and itchy, but finally it is feeling much better. Every time I left or returned home Vanessa would ask me how my rash looked and felt. I’ve gotten used to laying around the house with my shirt only half on and my stomach glistening with some sort of healing crème (I have 4 different kinds). I was using baby rash crème given to me from Vanessa a few days ago, but it dried out my skin and then made it itchy. I went to the pharmacy again earlier this week and got another type of crème that I think is similar to Neosporin… except it seems like almonds and dries like candle wax…

During past weekends in Costa Rica I have been spending a lot of energy, time and money while traveling. This weekend many students (myself included) decided to stay in San Jose to relax and explore more of the city.

On Friday I went downtown with some friends to go thrift shopping for Halloween costumes. I came up with my costume idea based on its cost… I used white masking tape and a red shirt to make a stop sign outfit. The stop signs here say “ALTO” which actual means tall or high, but somehow means “stop” as well.

Our time downtown was cut short by frustration and the classic mid-day downpour; an impossibly dry occasion. Doesn’t matter if you wear a raincoat, roll up your pants and carry an umbrella- you will get wet.

Downtown San Jose is neat and busy, but it’s little too loud and claustrophobic for my liking. Maybe it is just my lack of patience and grace; I usually just walk in the streets wherever I go because the sidewalks are cracked, narrow and spotted with holes. I can’t complain though, Kenya (my friend with a wheel chair) has more motivation and patience for San Jose’s ramp-less & inaccessibility than I.

At 5:45 AM on Saturday morning Jocelyn and I met our friends Sarah, Alison and Jessie to catch taxis for the bus station. By 6:30 AM we were on a bus heading north to La Paz waterfall gardens, near Volcano Poas.

The downpour of rain welcomed our arrival to a beautiful hotel overlooking rolling hills of forest. We spent the morning running from different pavilions filled with butterflies, sloths, snakes, monkeys, jungle cats and frogs. My personal favorite was the cuddling Pumas. I was so jealous of their affection, fur and warm nook that doubled as shelter from the rain.

Nothing welcomed us better than the hot coffee, fireplace and steaming buffet for lunch. The large pavilion was empty, so naturally, we spent a significant amount of time talking, laughing loudly and returning to the buffet at least 3 different times.

After lunch when the rain had stopped we hiked down to the different waterfalls which were brown in color because of the rain. We caught the last bus back to San Jose in the afternoon and headed straight home to take naps in preparation for a Halloween celebration later that night.

Although Halloween isn’t as popular or widely celebrated here in Costa Rica, it was here that I experienced the most disturbing and horrifying Halloween. A bunch of students started the night at our neighborhood bar; it is here that we all meet, chat and buy cheap drinks before we make plans for the night. A few of us had decided on going to a concert downtown, but once we arrived, the venue was packed and tickets were sold out.

Jocelyn, Jonathan, Mark and I debated on waiting to get in to the concert, but quickly decided to venture to different parts of San Jose. We hopped in another taxi and headed to “La Calle” (The Street)- a popular area for drinking & dancing.

As we approached the first club we saw, the bouncer let us in before the long line of Ticos- thus, feeling uncomfortable begun before even entering the club. We weaseled our way through the sticky, sweaty crowd until we found room to breath and stand comfortably.

It was on the 4^th floor that we noticed a few people wearing latex gloves and a shirtless man laying on a table in small seating area that was blocked off. Up above we noticed the television screens that were showing a close-up view. The man was getting each of his breast muscles “pierced” with metal hooks (about 5/6 inches in length).

We stood in awe, wondering why the man:

1) Was having the procedure done

2) Had the procedure at a night club

3) Was wearing a woven cloth as a diaper/long skirt (Did I mention this!?)

I have vivid memories of his feet ever so slightly bouncing and curling while lying on the table (maybe from the pain?).

The camera stopped taking close-up shots and the Televisions turned off, so we tried to begin making light of our new club experience.

It wasn’t even 10 minutes later when there was more commotion. Down on the first floor of the club the newly pierced man stood underneath a metal bar and chains that hung from the ceiling. The hooks on his chest were connected to the chains, which was actually a sort of pulley system…

He was then raised into the air, above all the people in the club, hanging from his two pierced breasts.

As if this wasn’t enough, he then began to slowly swing back and forth- his legs dangling from his cloth diaper/skirt.

As you can imagine, our adventure ended promptly. We prepared to make the trek out of the club. Before we could make it out of the club we found out that two other participants were next- one getting pierced on the back and the other on the knees.

Aside from feeling ill and confused, it was an experience I’ll never forget. Nonetheless, the low key and cheap weekend in San Jose was nice and refreshing. As a result from staying here, I haven’t felt deathly tired this week!

Since my Spanish class is done now, I have every morning free to do whatever- but I am getting worse at Spanish. Not only because I’m not listening and speaking the language for 4 hours in class, but also because I keep encountering people who speak English.

It’s always on the days that I’m actually feeling ambitious. It’s the days that I decide to ask an occasional or unnecessary question while at the grocery store or around the neighborhood. The classic scenario: I nervously ask the question, the person responds in Spanish, and I either look confused or say “Como?” and then they just answer my question in perfect English.

This same scenario has taken place about 5 times with various people; a middle aged woman who had just moved back to Costa Rica after living in France for 7 years, an older man from Oklahoma, my Vin Diesel look-alike spinning instructor, a sweet little lady behind a reception desk and a 14 year old Asian girl at the convenient store who asked me about taking the SAT after answering my question in perfect English. I didn’t really know how to tell her that I’m 21, I only know one language and I never took the SAT. On this note I’m going to go practice Spanish, and do my homework or try to succeed at something. Pura Vida!