WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS.

Costa Rica has two seasons: dry season and rainy season.

People have warned us about the torrential downpours that start right before school lets out and lasts for a few hours. It wasn’t until about the end of April that we got to experience these waters on our own. Up until then, the 70 degree Fahrenheit weather was the same every single day. When we woke up around 5:30 am, it would already be light outside, the sun would be out (and stay out) all day long until the sun set around 6:00, and Santa Ana would have a nice evening breeze in time to cool down the apartment for us to go to bed.

Then, the rain hit.

We were getting near to the end of the school day and the dark clouds swallowed up the sky. It poured. There was thunder and lightning in the mix which I appreciated, but it wasn’t quite as enjoyable when we had to step out from under the roof to walk the 15 minutes to our bus stop. By the time we made it to the bus stop, we were just walking straight through puddles because it was impossible to become any more wet than we already were. Brett’s jeans had soaked the whole way up to his thighs and my sundress and sandals didn’t stand a chance against the shower.

We waited at the bus stop for twice as long as we normally did that day. When a bus would come, it would be so full of people that it didn’t even bother to slow down unless someone needed off. When we finally caught a ride, our drowned-rat selves got on to find perfectly dry human beings staring at us. How they survived the rain was beyond me. I sat down in one of the only seats open, trying now to get my neighbor all wet, and Brett stood beside me. I watched the water drain out of his backpack onto the floor.

Now a days, we know to bring our rain coats and tiny, little, rusty, broken, red umbrella for us to both squeeze under because it’s guaranteed to rain 9 times out of 10. We’ve seen water flooding across the road and down the sidewalks. One day, we had just made it to our bus stop and were waiting for the bus when I tilted my head back and lost my sunglasses to the raging river in the ditch behind us. When it rains here, you either run for cover or just continue walking because you know you’re doomed.

                                   

DAY 1 AT THE WASHINGTON SCHOOL…WELL, KINDA.

The alarm went off at 5:30am and we jumped out of bed. I put on the dress I had picked out for my first day of school, teacher edition, and Brett put on a pot of coffee. We walked 10 minutes down the road to our bus stop and waited for the bus that would take the route we had practiced the day before. Our nerves were a little shaky, anticipating what our students would be like and how we would do interacting with them. All we could do was wait and find out.

We made it there around 7:30am which was perfect because class was to start at 8:00 and they told everyone to be sure they weren’t late for the first day of school. Just like the day of our first teacher meeting two days before, we were the only ones there and we waited patiently outside of the gate.

Five minutes until 8:00 and we were still the only two people in sight. Brett called the office and Don Alex answered the phone. Within a few minutes, he came down to the gate, let us in, and said that the first day of school was actually changed to be the following day.

What?

Turns out, they told the returning students that Thursday the 14^th would be the first day and the new students that Wednesday the 13^th would be the first day. Since there weren’t as many new students, they called the new parents to let them know of the change THE NIGHT BEFORE. Danielle was in charge of letting the teachers know about the switch (since we were told just two days before  at the teacher’s meeting that Wednesday would be the first day), but she wasn’t even informed until 10:00 pm on the 12^th. She sent out emails to everyone but the internet at our apartment wasn’t working and we had no way of knowing. Gah.

Don Alex told us that we coud come on in and read through the teacher’s handbook in the office. We did just that because we had nothing else to do and we already made the 50 minute journey there to the school.

                                     

After looking at the handbook for 10 minutes, we decided to go try to organize our homerooms. There were old papers all through the desks and random books everywhere. Some text books had teachers’ editions, some did not. We didn’t know what to do but we did the best we could to feel as prepared as possible for the real first day of our new job.

The next day, we woke up at 5:30am and we got out of bed. I put on the dress I had picked out for my second day of school, teacher edition, and Brett put on a pot of coffee. We walked 10 minutes down the road to our bus stop and waited for the bus that would take the route we had practiced, yet again, the day before. Our nerves were not shaky, anymore, but we still anticipated what our students would be like and how we would do interacting with them.

The first whole week of class was just playing games and getting to know everyone. Each day, we would follow the school schedule which was as follows: two 50 minute periods, a 20 minute “coffee” break (with no coffee), two more 50 minute periods, a 40 minute lunch break, and three more 50 minute periods. Things went great with the kids but each day the teachers were all given a different schedule. We thought that it was just because it was the first week back and they were trying to get things organized. We were wrong.

Monday January 18^th was the beginning of actual classes. Turns out, they thought Brett’s name was “Bread” and they wrote “Mr.Bread” on the top of his attendance sheet. I was not the 4^th grade homeroom teacher, Brett was not the 5^th grade homeroom teacher, and our class schedules were different every day for two weeks. One day I would have 4^th grade science, the next I would have 10^th grade American History. It was IMPOSSIBLE to plan the lesson ahead of time because we didn’t even know what classes we would have the next day. Oh yeah, I am now the third grade homeroom teacher and Brett is the 7^th/8^th grade homeroom teacher.

The students have to bring in their own toilet paper. A few weeks ago, we ran out of the TP supply and we were given a tissue box to use instead. When the tissue box was handed to me, I was told to put my name on it, hide it so that only my class knew where it was, and not to let the high schoolers take it for their own.

A few months ago, Washington School took on a new 12th grade student and promised that we could give him all of the classes he needed to finish school. The thing is, the school only goes through 11th grade and the student was to take AP classes. Brett and a three other teachers were told that they were going to lose all of their prep periods and start teaching the new student instead. When Brett asked when he was expected to do his prep, he was told that he can do it at home after school. Brett continued to explain that he wasn't allowed to teach AP classes, but they didn't really seem to care. I could go on, and on, and on, and on and on and on and on but I won’t over the internet... Ask me about the disorganization when I see you hahahaha. No really, please ask. It use to be frustrating but now it's amusing. 

On a good note, the pay is exactly what they promised and we are always paid when we expect to be paid. The kids are fun and uncooperative at the same time so every day is an interesting one. We’ve made some good friends with our fellow teachers and we are able to make extra money by tutoring for an extra hour right after school almost every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I have to say, we are starting to get a little sad knowing that it is coming to an end, already. It’s been a rollercoaster but we were the ones who wanted to get on the ride!

Looking back, I’m so glad that we did. 

BIRTHDAY PRESENTS GALORE

January 11^th – my 24^th birthday! Though it wasn’t filled with chocolate cake and ice cream, balloons, and familiar faces, I have to say my birthday was a great day!

The day started off with our first teacher’s meeting at the Washington School (WAS). We were about 15 minutes early getting to the school and they still had the gate closed. In the States, 15 minutes early to a meeting wouldn’t really be that early. Here, we stood patiently outside until another teacher showed up and waited with us.

She told us that she was going to be teaching “Kinder” as they call it here. She is Hispanic so Brett and I were able to practice some Spanish until they finally let us in right at 8:00 when the meeting was to begin. We were still the only three teachers at the school. The boss-man, Don Alex, told us that Miss. Danielle was on her way and to just wait on the bench in the lobby. The three of us wondered if this meeting was just for the new teachers.

Around 8:30, Miss. Danielle arrived on her scooter and a few other teachers also trickled in right before her. The meeting didn’t last super long. Danielle told us that she was going to be spending most of her time in the office this year; she previously was teaching just like we were about to do. We went over some rules, changes to the semester schedule, and what was expected of us. For Brett and myself, we were still confused on what we were to be doing. Danielle told us that we could go around with her after the meeting. 

I was told that I will have a 4^th grade homeroom and Brett was to be the homeroom teacher for 5^th grade. On our tour of the school, Danielle showed us the 4^th and 5^th grade classrooms and said that we were free to decorate it as we wished! I was super excited about this part. Brett asked how he was to know where the students left off in their textbooks before they went on Christmas vacation and she assured him that the students would be able to tell him. She also kept saying to "go with the flow”. Brett is very much a person who plans out when, where, and how things are going to happen so this alone was an adjustment. 

After leaving WAS, we were off to Santa Ana to check out the apartment. Along the way, Brett insisted that I get a Hershey’s bar for my birthday. I didn't argue his point.

We had some time to kill and so we stopped at our first soda! A soda is like a little restaurant with a typical Costa Rican dish: meat, rice, beans, plantains, and a small salad. Our greasy (but yummy) chicken was just what we needed. After our meal, we still had a little time left so we asked if there was a park around where we could go sit for a while. They laughed and said no, but that there was a church right down the road where people like to sit. We realized quickly just how small Santa Ana really was.


When it was time to meet with Maria, we were granted access into the little gated community. She was finishing up mopping the floor when we got there so we assured her that she didn’t have to rush because we knew we were a little early. The apartment tour was everything we hoped it would be. The cute, little palm tree right outside was an added bonus! Brett and I both said that we wanted it without even asking the other. It was perfect.

 

our hot water source!

That evening, we went back to Gaudy’s for the last night living in the hostel. Brett gave me the choice for dinner since it was my birthday and I picked the usual, mac & cheese. Right after dinner, I ran into the room to skype the special people who brought me into this world in the first place.

Our friends from Mexico (the ones from the 3-part tour) were still at the hostel as well. In fact, it was Maria’s birthday, too!! (I just realized that we have met two different Marias down here… I hope this isn’t too confusing.) They had some tequila and offered to share a drink with us to celebrate. We tried to share the bottle of wine we picked up but it was terrible. The rest of the night was spent with Maria and Naomi, talking about where we all lived, what we were doing in Costa Rica, and picking on Maria because we thought the evening shift guy behind the desk had a crush on her.

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The next morning, Tuesday, January 12^th, we needed to take out some dollars to pay the deposit for the apartment. We had been using the colorful colones for a week and had to run around town searching for an ATM that allowed us to take out the dollars that we needed. The value of a colon changes daily, but we found that on average it is 540 colones per U.S. dollar. The first ATM we went to wouldn't allow us to take out any dollars. The second ATM  only had enough dollars to take out and cover our deposite. Maria was expecting (and wanting) the payment in dollars, but we had to call her and explain to her that we had to use the rainbow money for the first month's rent. She was really understanding about it, but the whole process was a lot more difficult than we had expected it to be.

Our bags were all repacked, ready for the move to Santa Ana! Maria was excited to greet us at the door, light the candles in the apartment, show us our brand-new sheets and pillows, and tell us, “Welcome to your new apartment” in the little English that she knew. We felt super lucky/blessed/thankful/relieved to have a place to call our own for the next 5 and a half months. All we had left to do was unpack our things, do a test run on the buses to be sure we can get to school, make dinner, and go to bed early enough to wake up the next morning for the first day of our new jobs.

Pura vida, mae.
Life is good.

HOMELESS

After accepting jobs with the Washington School, Brett and I had to shift our focus from job interviews to apartment searching. We were super excited about finding our first apartment and we had an idea of what we were looking for; location close to the school, furnished apartment, and internet access.

Saturday morning, the day after accepting our full-time teaching jobs, Brett and I sat on our all-too-familiar bed at Gaudy’s hostel and began looking on recommended websites for somewhere to live for the next five and a half months.

“This looks nice! Oh, they only accept year-long leases... never mind.”
Apartment hunting is hard work. 

When we finally started finding some potential apartments to go check out, we wrote down the important information in our little notebooks. Some of the ads said that they usually require a year-long lease but that they may make some exceptions. The first few contacts we tried said that the apartments were recently taken. We were pleased to notice that 95% of the other ones we liked had the contact information of the same lady.Thinking it would be easy to set up appointments and kill a few birds with one stone, I called her provided number on my little yellow tracphone. 

A secretary answered the phone and I began to inquire about the handful of apartments we were interested in and told her about our situation. “We only lease to year-long tenants”, she told me. I pointed out that it says on the website that they sometimes make exceptions, but she was SURE that my request was out of the question. I asked to speak to the lady herself but she wouldn’t let me. We were back to square one because that single phonecall eliminated everything else on our list.  

We sat on the bed allllll dayyyyyy lonnggggg. I don’t think we even took the time to shower. By the end of the day, we were exhausted, hungry, and frustrated.

The next day, I decided to make a post in a Facebook group called “Gringo Expats”. We needed all of the help we could get. One lady messaged me back and said that she had a fully furnished apartment with internet but that it might be a little farther away then we wanted. I clicked on her FB page and saw that she attended the SAME medical school that Brett is going to in the fall! I was sure that it was a sign. I messaged her and let her know we were interested in coming to visit the place. She was happy to invite us over to the “finca” the following day, but she kept mentioning that it is probably a little different than we might be expecting…

We were able to schedule two other appointments so that we could see two different apartments while we were out and about. After sitting in the hostel all day the day before, we were feeling excited to be going somewhere.

First stop, the finca! The lady told us to take the bus into a town called Ciudad Colon and to call her daughter when we got off of the bus so that she could pick us up and drive us to where we needed to be. As some of you may know, Brett and I tend to get lost. We stayed on the bus too long and ended up in the middle of nowhere next to an old bus station. I called the lady’s daughter and she thankfully knew the area I was talking about. She and her dad had to come get us.

As we got closer to the finca, we quickly realized that this apartment was in the jungle. We drove down a long dirt road to where the lady (Sharon) was waiting to meet us. Trees surrounded us from every angle. “THIS is what Costa Rica is supposed to be like”, I thought.

Sharon talked to Brett about Kansas City University of Medicine and Biosciences and told us that she graduated as an OB/GYN. She also talked to us about her apartments there at the jungle and asked if we minded if women had their babies there. She is now in her 70’s, but she use to deliver babies there on the finca regularly. She doesn’t really do it, now, but when she was showing us the apartments she would say things like, “one woman had her baby here in this shower. She named her Earth… we just smiled”.

As we moved through the tour, she told us that rent with all utilities and internet would be only be $350 a month. We looked off the back porches into the jungle and were told that (1) there is a gardener that would bring us fresh food and that (2) if we didn’t like bugs then the finca wouldn’t be a good place for us. She also mentioned that (3) we should be very sure to keep the doors and windows locked up because the monkeys will get into the apartment. Apparently they had one tenant who left a yellow folder on the table and a monkey ripped through the screen because it thought it was a banana.  

After the finca, we were on our way to the second apartment of the day. Finding the place was so difficult. We ended up getting a taxi, giving the driver the directions we were given, drove around asking people on the street how to get there, calling the lady who was going to give us the tour, let the taxi driver talk to her, and STILL got dropped off at the wrong place. We had to hike up this huge, steep hill to where the apartments were.  Unfortunately, the apartments were about $900 and didn’t include utilities. We couldn’t live there.

One more stop. The apartments in a little town called Pozos was only a 10 minute bus ride to the school. Surprisingly, we made it there without too much trouble. The apartment was in a beautiful gated area; air conditioned rooms, modern furniture and a beautiful kitchen. There was even a maid that would come twice a week to clean. The downside was that it was over our budget and didn’t include utilities, either.

Brett and I were running out of time and were struggling to agree on which of the two would be the best option. He wanted the expensive one with a maid, I wanted the jungle house with huge bugs and monkey thieves.
 

The next day, I decided to give one more look on the various websites to see if anything recent came up. That’s when I saw it. Our first apartment. Right way I showed the page and pictures to Brett and all he said was “call her, now.” Sure enough, it was everything we hoped it would be and Maria wanted to show it to us the very next morning. We couldn’t have been more relieved.

La Paz Waterfall Gardens (Part 3 of our 3-part tour)

Our final stop: La Paz Waterfall Gardens! By now, we and the other five tourists (3 girls our age from Mexico and two middle-aged men from the U.S.) were getting to know each other, making the tour experience even better. 

When we first got to the gardens, I expected to see a bunch of beautiful waterfalls and have a nice lunch. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that we would be walking through a wildlife refuge as well. We saw hundreds of hummingbirds zooming from flowers to feeders, jaguars wrestling, snakes slithering, butterflies fluttering, and red-eyed leaf frogs snoozing in the sun. Brett and I even made friends with a toucan!

 

After walking through the wildlife refuge, it was time for the lunch that was promised to us. There was a delicious buffet which included pizza and garlic knots. Of course, there were chicken, rice, and beans options, too, but I was ready for some cheesy pizza. The food was great and so were the BATHROOMS. Hah. I walked in and the sinks were waterfalls. It took me a while to find that to turn the waterfall sink on, I had to twist a rock. Brett even said that he didn’t pee in the urinal because even though he was "pretty sure" it was a urinal,  it was so pretty that he wasn't positive and didn't want to be that guy that peed on a decoration.

Finally, it was time to walk the two-mile paved trail through the waterfalls. Between the five different waterfalls, we were able to stand in front of them, see them from behind the falling water, and look down onto them.

At the end of the tour, we waited in line for a bus to take us back up to where we started. In the meantime, a man’s vehicle broke down and people started jumping up to help the guy get off of the dangerous, hairpin-turn road on which cars and large semi-trucks were driving way too fast. My superhero fiancé jumped up to join in the rescue.

Once we loaded up into the van, our tour guide, Milton, noticed that we had a flat tire! He was sure that we would be able to make it around the tight turns for the next 10 minutes until we got to the nearest gas station. Luckily, we made it safely and had a new tire to replace the flat one.

The entire tour from getting picked up at Gaudy’s for the coffee tour in the morning to returning back to Gaudy’s after the waterfalls that evening lasted about 12 hours. We were able to see so much and we would recommend this tour to anyone. It was a long day, but so worth it!