I’m officially home! The last week in Mexico was a horrible whirlwind of emotions. On Wednesday my host sister’s baby Sylvanna was born (5.5 lbs). I got to be there for the birth which was very exciting considering I have never seen anything like that before. It was interesting because she had a natural birth while most women in Mérida have cesareans. I think they are afraid of the pain during childbirth but the pain of the cesarean afterward is way worse. Evermore, a cesarean is 2.5 times more expensive than a normal birth so really I don’t understand why so many chose the surgical route.
Another adventure. My friends decided they wanted to celebrate the end of classes by going to a cantina. I told them “DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE. I’ll take you and you call me when your done and I’ll pick you up.” I got a phone call early evening and went outside only to see a tormenta like nothing I have EVER seen before. It was pouring, not buckets, but bathtubs. Ni modos. I got in the car and started slowly making my way to the centro where the cantina was located. There were at least two feet of water in the streets that sprayed up on either side of the car, even though I was only going about 5 mph. Big black bags filled with trash floated down the streets that had quickly become fast moving rivers. By the time we were pulling out of the cantina to make our way home there was at least three inches of water sitting on the floor of the car that sloshed around like one of those wave pools every time I hit the breaks. Needless to say, it was definitely an experience.
Saying goodbye to the grandkids and my friends was the hardest part. Christian, one of the nietos told me, “Leah. When you come back from the United States to visit, can you bring me something? Something cheap. Like $7.” It was so funny that he already had his price limit picked out and everything. I told him we’d see but that he’d need to update me in November to tell me what had become the coolest new toy.
My friends gave me a sweet goodbye. Some of their moms got me little goodbye gifts (example: a bag shaped like a hammock) and many of my friends wrote me beautiful letters that still bring tears to my eyes when I read them. However, by the time Saturday rolled around I was more than ready to be gone. I hate drawing out goodbyes and drawing them out for a week is just TOO long and painful.
Being home has been nice, but it helps to know that I will be going back to Mérida in December (flights from Chicago only cost $100 bucks round trip). I have gone back to working at the restaurant before I figure out exactly what I’ll be doing for the rest of the summer. I was originally going to have an internship in New Mexico, but I decided I really just needed to digest everything at home. I’m hoping to find some kind of health based job/volunteer project that works within the Latino community. So far I have talked with someone from Mexico every single day I have been home. However, it really isn’t the same as talking in person. I miss being able to watch their facial expressions, hit them when they say something that deserves hitting, laughing along side them…
So what have I noticed about the United States? Well, sitting in church on Sunday I realized how cold Americans are in comparison to Mexicans. In our culture there is a space boundary that rarely gets crossed. I do not believe such a boundary exists in Mexico. It’s nice not to have a million topes that ruin your car when you don’t see the bump in the road. And I can cross the street without being overly scared that a car will 100% not be willing to stop and let me cross.
And what will I miss about Mexico? Obviously my friends and host family there, but also just random normality’s of life. I will miss the viene viene men who wave their orange rag at me to help me back out in a completely empty parking lot to earn a few pesos. I will miss my botana lunches at Eladio’s—buy a drink and get plates and plates of food free (I really do think it would be a hit in the U.S. if we used that concept for dinner instead of lunch). I will miss walking past the late night food stands with their bacon wrapped hotdogs. I will miss my hammock. And yes, I will even miss waking up at six AM only to find myself already drenched in sweat.

Hi all,

I hope this blog finds you well. As the weeks progress finals are approaching; however, I will not be dedicating this blog to venting all about exams, but to tell you more about my recent experiences.

Before anything I have to tell you all about my adventure I took to the States on May 13th. I left on the 13th of May to go to the USA just to walk at my graduation on May 14th. After walking at my graduation that same night I was back at Boston Logan thinking, “this isn’t right I was here a few hours ago.” It was even more tedious when I had to wait 10 hours at Heathrow Airport for my connecting flight to Cairo. All in all it was good because I finished my 700 page fun read I had picked up at the same airport 2 days before. Nevertheless, the entire, crazy adventure was worth it, I was able to see all of my friends and family and of course experience the thrill of walking at my graduation!!!

Anyways, back to Egypt. Some funny things that happened at the Cairo airport was the constant question of where I am from when I go through immigration and customs. I hand the person my US Passport and they ask me where are you from I say, “America” the question that follows is, “no, no, before, your first citizenship,” I reply “US” then they ask “and your father where is he from?” and I say, “America” and “your mother?”, “America” and then they finally understand that I am not Egyptian, I only look like one. I  think they ask me all of these questions so that they know if I have to have an entry visa or not. Speaking about entry visas, it is so easy to get an entry visa for Egypt. I was all worried because I had always had my entry visa before leaving America, I would send my passport to the corresponding Egyptian consulate in New York and they would stamp it and everything. But I found out that all you have to do when you get to Egypt at least if you hold an US passport is to stop at one of the four windows there are of banks in Egypt, pay 15 dollars and they give you a fancy sticker and that it is. I mean the entire process took me less than 30 seconds. I handed the man the money and before I knew it I had a visa in my hands. I had to ask him if that was it. Well now you all know the secret. I hope you have enjoyed my wild adventures and my quirky recounting of what happens inside the Cairo Airport.

Until next time.

Four weeks is a long time, but considering that I’ve been here for 17 makes me feel like it’s so close that I ought to start packing my bags already. But unzipping a suitcase to get to my toothpaste 3 times a day (…okay, twice) is a hassle worth avoiding. Seeing as how my ”¡adios!”es are nearing, there have been more and more “last times” I’ll be able to do some things that I’ve done in the past few days, and I fear that this is only the beginning!

For example, we just finished having our last Spanish class of the semester last Thursday – you know, the one that freed me up for a 6-day weekend? Just in case you forgot - which means I will be seeing much less, if any, of my compañeros in that class. Of course, we had a party all together on Friday and we’ve got another one planned for Monday, but I doubt this can keep up. As if one ”last” having to do with that awesome class wasn’t enough, the boyfriend of our Spanish professor and I (he´s not my boyfriend too, I´m just trying to refer to the plural subject ”boyfriend and I”. Oh, English…) got to go on our second and likely last bike ride this past Sunday, but this time it was actually a legit event. A mere 5.000 colones ($10) permitted participation in “El Paseo de los Infantiles y Principiantes” (“Ride for Little Children and Beginners”; suited me just fine), access to delicious fruit/snacks, and a nifty T-shirt! PLUS, my picture might show up on the Promobike webpage = totally worth it. The route itself was pretty, well, beginnerish, so we rode around a bit longer through some astoundingly beautiful country until I was nice and sunburnt and then he dropped me off at my house not without a bag full of easily 25+ mangos and a papaya. I will certainly miss Carlos, but his legend will live on in my sky blue T-shirt that proudly bears a tricyclist outlined in pink on the front.

Peacock in Africa Mia

On Thursday I also got back from the last gira I’ll go on with my Arte en el Cine that brings my total to an untouchable class-record of four. We spent Wednesday and Thursday up in Liberia, Guanacaste (the northwestern region) wiping our sweat and swatting mosquitoes as we toured a bit of the city. Keeping with the theme of the class, we watched a movie, the documentary “Capitalism: A Love Story” by Michael Moore, and it made me realize that I know way too little about economics and politics, much less what is going on in my own country. This, along with various likewise experiences I’ve had this semester, has given me the desire to start paying more attention to the news and international relations to become at least somewhat of a decently educated citizen. This semester is gonna turn me into a morning-coffee-and-newspaper kind of guy, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet!… Anyways, the following day we went to a place called África Mía and saw a variety of Africa-native species in a pretty convincing safari setting with a $10 discount thanks to the profe, and later enjoyed even more discounts with a delicious lunch of casado and a guided hike through a place called Megafauna, which had a bunch of sculptures of extinct and large animals to raise our eyebrows and nod our heads at. Then on our way back home we got to experience a Richter-rated 6.1 earthquake to welcome us back into the Central Valley.

Due to an anti-climactic, albeit commemorative, event that most people don’t get the chance to celebrate in their lives, I am now able to experience lasts for the entire rest of the year. Of course I am referring to the fact that Emily and I made it to our negative one year wedding anniversary last Friday on May 21st, making us eligible to celebrate each day up until The Big One as the last of that particular date as un-married individuals. When she first made me aware of this unique honor we now share, I considered it to be somewhat of a stretch, but I suppose finding a reason to celebrate each day really is a pretty wise philosophy. I am marrying a pretty (and) smart woman, huh?

Only 66 more years to be like my abuelitos Ticos!

Parrots are LOUD

I have a bit of a troubling situation. For basically my entire life I have considered a weekend to be those couple of days at the end of a week (which never ends up being enough) that are supposed to be free from work but tend to include catching up on extra work or preparing for the upcoming week. However, since finishing our Spanish class for the semester last Thursday has left me with only classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, my world has been reversed to where the length of a typical work week has become that of my weekend and I am forced to re-adjust my perspective. To make matters worse, technically I have 6 of each 7 days free because my only class requirements come in the 23 hour block from my 1 pm class on Tuesday until my Wednesday class ends at noon. What a pickle! I suppose I´ll just have to find some kind of way to make it through these last 5 week(end)s…

Corcovado Catarata

To enjoy myself a bit before taking on this difficult road ahead, I decided to go to National Park Corcovado all the way down in the mosquito-ridden Osa Peninsula for a couple days (you know, just for a third of the weekend). It was a quickly planned trip because I was supposed to go on another volunteer trip with UNA to Marino Ballena this weekend, but it got cancelled due to terribly typical Tico transportation issues, so I threw together a few plans and headed out to Bahía Drake to take a tour of what our guide told us has been named the 3rd most biodiverse national park in the world; or something like that. After waking up at 3am to wait for what is apparently the only hour the 24-hour bus doesn´t run in Santo Domingo, I took a taxi to San Jose to catch the 5am bus to Palmar Norte, transition to an 11:30 bus to Sierpe, and hop on the hour-long boat ride to Drake, where the insects are only outnumbered by the sands on the shore. The surprisingly accomodating $9/night hostel called Bambú Sol, run by a lovely lady named Miriam (but not as lovely as my Aunt Mimi!), was just what I needed to keep me alive for 2 nights, and they even let me watch the championship soccer game with them the first night! Upon arriving the first day, I had about 3 hours to kill before sunset in which I was given the rare chance to just sit alone on a virtually empty beach to enjoy creation and just how small I really am. The next morning, after nearly sleeping through my alarm due to the pouring rain made almost deafening by my metal roof, the tour boat picked me up and we were on our way to San Pedrillo Station in Corcovado. Normally I´m not much of a pay-for-a-tour kind of guy, but apparently you´d have to hike 6 hours just to get to the entrance of the park and there´s no other form of ground transport, so forking over a little extra was certainly worth it in this case. If not just for the 30-min boat ride, then the frequent animal sightings, delicious lunch, refreshing waterfall hike/swim, delightful new friends (though none Facebook-worthy) and unprecedented knowledge gained made the purchase all worth it. Not to mention that I snagged like a whole jar of the leftover Jif peanut butter that our guide, Manuel, said I could take home with me! After returning for a nice afternoon café and exploring a little bit of the forest trails around the town, I was encouraged back to my room by the oncoming storm and made it an early night for the sake of the 9-hour travel on the morrow.

Tuesday I´m right back into the thick of my work week, but thankfully I´ll be out of it by Wednesday. I´m going on a field trip with my Arte en el Cine class to Liberia for a couple days, and then my madre Tica tells me there are plans for a family fiesta this Saturday at our house, so at least I´ll have that to look forward to as I try to figure out how to handle all this darn free time… it´s gonna be tough, but I think I´m up to the challenge.

Bahía Drake Sunset

Corcovado Croc

Recap: favorite activities since my trip during Semana Santa: the beach and baseball! One of the many beach trips finally consisted in catching (or trying to catch) fish off of the dock in Progreso. No fishing pole necessary. And the process you ask?
1. Cut up a bate fish into three even pieces.
2. Put a piece on your hook. The tail or the head work best as they have shiny scales that attract the bigger fish.
3. Throw your line into the sea and work it back towards the dock- wrapping it around an old water bottle or any other circular object.
4. Have the fish eat your bate but not get hooked.
5. Repeat.
Baseball is also an awesome experience that is universal. Baseball in San Francisco is the same as in Yucatán except that the beer is cheaper and random cheerleaders dance on the field between innings. But the laid back atmosphere is igual. A nice bag of cotton candy and sunflower seeds and your all set to enjoy America´s pastime.
On a sadder note, t-minus 10 days until I am back in the motherland. It is hard to believe that almost nine months have flown by. While it seems like yesterday that I was staring out of the airplane window, looking down on the green shrubbery of the Yucatán peninsula thinking to myself “so this is where I am going to live for the next year”, I have grown so much since my arrival. I still remember my anticipation, my fear, my uncertainty… But as time passed, those doubts slowly dissipated, or rather evolved into an independence, self-confidence, and longing to delve deeper into my experience.
I don’t want to go home. I have developed a home here, a routine. Yet while the trip to the airport is inevitable I leave knowing that I have lived my experience to the best of my ability and have no regrets. I accomplished everything I set out to do. I truly believe I became another member of my host family. I love our Sunday gatherings and the grandchildren’s newest obsession of playing baseball with a stick and inflatable ball- running from flowerpot to corner as they round their imaginary bases. Some of my closest relationships are no longer solely lie north of the U.S. -Mexican border but in the Yucatán peninsula as well. The thought of leaving these people I care so much about is heartbreaking. The thought creates a hard knot in the pit of my stomach. Although small, this knot is charged with emotion that requires me to stop breathing in order to suppress the vast array of feelings that resonate throughout my core. When I try to explain the overwhelming emotion, my friends tell me “But you’ll come back and visit”. And I will. I have already pinky promised to return in December during winter break. But it will never be the same. I will no longer be living with these people. I will no longer see them daily. These next ten days are going to be stocked full of activities. I need to make sure I have the time to close the many circles I have opened in my time here in Mérida.
The other day all of my compañeros within the IFSA-Butler program and I debriefed our experience- what we liked and what we found difficult during our study abroad experience. Most people answered that they liked the architecture and the safeness that the city holds, while they disliked the honking and “springbreak” stereotypes that is quickly applied to anyone who could pass for gringo. As I reflected on my experience, I decided what I grew to love the most about the culture here is that it is laidback. But this tranquility and slower pace does not pertain to flojera or laziness. The people here establish relationships and cultivate them. Each person is important and to spend time with each other is valued. The work always gets done, but it is never more important than a human being. In my university, people are overloaded with work, overcommitted to activities to get into the top grad schools, and bombarded with messages saying that if you don’t have your whole life already planned out you are going to fail. Life needs a plan. End of story. And for the majority of us have lived in this hyper-bubble of stress since elementary school. We look so far ahead to the future that we forget about the present. The next project, the next opportunity to get ahead is much more important than the friendship I might form with my classmate if I took the time not only to ask her how she is but the time to listen to the response. I hope that I can keep this perspective when I return to the United States and not get wrapped up in the unnecessary worry and hustle-bustle that resonates throughout our culture. What is meant to be will happen. I hope that the year abroad has solidified my ability to live in the moment and not try to control my future.

Hi again,

Yesterday Dr. Mohamed (the Resident Director) reminded me how much people mistake me for an Egyptian. This works wonders because I blend in, but when people ask for directions it does get a little tricky. I say to myself after I have finished trying giving directions, that probably the person who asked must be thinking that I never studied grammar in school. Anyways, as I told you all last time I have been very busy with classes and running errands. It seems as if I am working against the tide or something; nevertheless, everything I need to do gets done in time.

I noticed something the other day, actually about a week ago, on how being in a country you do not quite understand what everyone is saying around you and when English television is scarce you read more… I have never enjoyed pleasure reading quite as much as I do now. I mean after I get done with studying, reviewing, chores, etc. I pick up my book that I fully understand and jump into my novel world. It has been four months now that I have been in Egypt and I guess I am feeling like I needed a break for a little to fully understand what was going on around me, even if it is in the novel world.

Of course I still have had fun, while being here, there is always time for fun.  I have gone to the movies (again) saw the “Date Night” with Steve Carell and Tina Fay and it was really funny. I caved from having been eating all Egyptian food and bought myself “honey nut cheerios” and have been enjoying every bit of them. Went shopping and got myself new shoes; a funny thing happened when I was at the store. I managed to tell the man my size. He handed me the right sandal I tried it on and it fit so I decided to get them. (I really did need them). But since I didn’t know how to say, “where is the other one” I said “where is the shoes sister” everyone laughed and they knew I was from somewhere not from Egypt. Comic relief is always healthy.

Anyways that is what has been going on. I have to go start my Arabic homework.

Bye.

Despite what your typical Teacher of the Year might tell you, I believe that dumb questions exist. However, sometimes a question is posed that is perfectly legitimate in reality, but somebody else considers it laughable. I don´t know if you know what I´m talking about, but it happened to me twice this week. The first time was in geography class and we were deciding if we were going to do a group presentation project or take a written test. Due to the fact that the test would cover an outrageous amount of subject matter, I simply asked the profe, practically with a halo above my head, if he would provide a summary of the basic concepts to go over as a study guide. As if in planned unison, the whole class immediately let out a burst of laughter as if I had just finished telling a joke; following of course by a swift rejection of the idea by the profe. I quickly went over in my head what exactly I said in spanish to make sure I didn´t make a funny mistake, but the script was good. I was confounded. Was that a dumb question? The second instance happened this weekend on a volunteer trip you´ll shortly hear all about. Apparently our group coordinator had this idea that a full 2 hours were required in the mornings to get ready, so he would wake us up at 5 am. I assured him that I was perfectly capable of getting dressed, eating breakfast and boarding the bus all in a mere 30 minutes, so it was okay if I slept just a bit longer. He was confused as to when I was going to fit in my morning shower, but I asked him why I would shower in the morning if I already showered last night. As you might guess, the planned unison chuckle phenomenon happened again, this time including the 4 other guys in the room, of course with their towels, soap and hair gel already in hand on their way to their first of at least a pair of showers that day. After confirming my adequately executed spanish, I was left feeling like the weird foreign kid with poor hygiene. I still don´t know what they need that other hour for.

Before I go any further, I have to share something strange that happened today. Armando was watching the last 4 minutes of a closely-matched NBA playoff game when I got home, and all I could do was ask him how the big soccer tournament was going that I missed for being gone this weekend. Sure enough, he had forgotten there was a game going on so he immediately switched it to the soccer channel… and I didn´t even care! In fact, I enjoyed watching it! I don´t know what´s wrong with me or if this is the beginning of some sort of paradigm shift for me, but this kind of behavior can´t be healthy for someone from the United States, can it?

The pioneers - 1st UNAventura group in Talamanca

Okay, to give you an idea of what I actually did this weekend, a group of about 60 of us from Universidad Nacional (UNA) spent 4 days in the Talamanca region doing some volunteer work with the indigenous population. We were split up into 4 groups, each with a specific tribe, site and task. My group interacted with the Amubri and helped advance their project by basically digging a huge hole and putting huge rocks in it (and it was tough!). In addition to constructing the drainage system, we also put some walls up in a bathroom, but didn´t quite finish due to our almost-hourly snack/coffee breaks. We got to learn quite a bit about the Amurbi culture and language (Bri-Bri) and how until recently the government did  not even recognize their rights as citizens because they did not have any form of legal identification. It was kind of a situation of “If we don´t bother them, they won´t bother us,” but now it´s looking like they´re starting to bother each other. Their traditions, diet and even architecture are all heavily influenced by their spiritual beliefs and deep connections with nature.  While they were actually pretty modernized in the sense that some had TVs, radios and most wore “normal” clothes (though some would say even I don´t wear “normal” clothes all the time), it is apparent they are trying to maintain their identity through surviving cultural traditions and their unique language. From being exposed to and working with these clans to meeting new UNA students to chowing down on buffet-style meals to getting a free t-shirt (is it still considered volunteering if you get a free t-shirt?), the trip was a huge success.

Family resemblance?

Sunset in Talamanca

It’s official: the rainy season is upon us down here in the tropics. Now depending on who you are, this could be a good thing or a bad thing. I haven’t decided which side I’m on quite yet, but the Ticos are certainly on the liquid-loving side; they can’t get enough of it. They appreciate the ultimate result of lush, green forest and the beautiful gift of life provided by the rains while I’m wringing out my shirt, cursing my $3 umbrella that would probably work just as well if I held it upside down. When am I ever going to learn that you can’t go the cheap route on every purchase? Maybe once I have an income that merits otherwise.

Don Luis PhD celebration

This past week was a landmark in the Vegas-Sibaja household: my padre, Don Luis, was officially approved for his PhD! A mere 6 years of borderline family negligence, 650 pages worth of (double-spaced) thesis and a nervously-anticipated 20-min presentation later, he received a doctorate in… something to do with business. We had a delightful celebration afterwards with the whole family over a shamelessly-priced dinner at Hotel Bougainvillea, and I finally got a picture with them! I’m not quite sure what he’s going to do with all his free time now, but I have reason to believe he may be considering my suggestion of a family trip to Disneyland (before I leave, of course).

This past weekend I got to go on another 3-day field trip with my Arte en el Cine class, and we visited several neat places on the Pacific side. We stayed at the nature reserve in Curú where both beach and forest were just a coconut’s throw away from our cabina. The first day we were going to watch a movie at a school like we had “planned”, but apparently the principal canceled school that day for some reason and we were left napless with nothing but a grumbling professor and a relentlessly humid afternoon. Making guayaba juice out of guayabas, we just added an extra hour and a half to our hike later that day in the Curú reserve. The next morning we earned our free lodging by spending a couple hours cleaning some beaches and playing on some beaches we were supposed to be cleaning. Later, we headed off to Cabo Blanco to hike a difficult 4 km through the forest that inevitably led to another beach. After a night of a little fiesta enjoyed with discretion, we woke up early the next morning to soak up surf and sun at Isla Tortuga. We also got a game of volleyball in, and in regard to how it went, all I’ll say is this: they called me “La Máquina”. Afterwards, those who wanted to (which ended up being 5 of us) hiked a 5 km trail back to the cabinas instead of being taken back by the boat. I don’t know why we were surprised, but it turned out the trail lacked any kind of signs to point us to Curú while at the same time offering a fork in the trail every 5 minutes or so, so we got lost. Miraculously, we somehow made it back to civilization with losing only about 30 minutes and coming out on top by gaining another priceless adventure. The group was a little larger than last time so it was harder to integrate with everyone, but by the end of the trip I felt like I had made at least a few more Facebook friends.

This upcoming week is going to be a short one schoolwise because I’ll be in Talamanca, a town in the southeastern region, from Thursday to Sunday to participate in some volunteer work with the indigenous population there through a program led by my university, UNA. I’m not quite sure what all the trip will entail, but if you’d like to find out what I find out, it ought to be here for you when I get back.

The Curú Group