Is it sad that yesterday was one of the best days I have had in a long time and I was alone all day? My family would probably say yes; however, I would have to say no. I am a bit of a loner, and I am totally fine with that. I prefer it that way. At times, I must admit, I isolate myself a bit too much; I think that comes with being a writer, and a thinker.
Here, though, I am rarely ever alone. I share a room with three girls, and a bathroom with five people; it is a very small home for eight people, but it's perfect. And when I'm not at home, I am either taking Spanish with people, walking to a project with Jordan, teaching English, or wandering around with other volunteers. It is great, nevertheless for a loner, it's a bit overstimulating. Therefore this weekend, I decided to spend some time alone. While all the other volunteers when to Manuel Antonio beach to party and stay in a hostel, I decided to take a day trip to a different beach, Jaco, alone. Jaco is a beach just an hour and a half away from San Pedro, and the closest beach available. I was forewarned that it is a huge drug and prostitution spot at night, thus I made sure to pre-buy a ticket for the 5:00 bus home, assuring I left before dark.
Being a type A like my father, I planned on leaving my home stay at 8:00 to ensure that I had enough time to find the bus station, and my bus. Unfortunately, she had planned on making a "special" breakfast since one of the girls in my room was leaving, which wasn't ready until 8:00, therefore I didn't leave until 8:20. Long story short, I was running all around downtown San Jose trying to find the bus station, and everyone I asked told me a different direction. When I finally found it, my bus was pulling out of the station... Thank God the driver was nice enough to stop as I chased the bus through the parking lot and then let me on... I was off to a good start.
The bus ride was totally fine, and ended up taking two hours, but wasn't bad. When we got there, it was exactly as I expected. A janky, shady little town full of surfers, Ticos/Ticas (locals), and some tourists here and there. All the shops had the same tacky stuff, except for a few gems I found, and walking down the street people were honking and whistling seeing as I was probably the first blonde they'd seen in a while. After looking through all the little shops, and finally finding somewhere to buy a huge iced coffee, I made my way to the black sand beach. I must say, I am not used to these, and prefer the white sand in Destin, however, the ocean with mountains in the background is absolutely breath taking, and the waves were bigger than any I have ever seen before.
I fell asleep for about two hours - with my legs over my bags so that no one could take them - and then watched people take surfing lessons for a while. Beside me was a group of local teenagers who were drinking and smoking pot - all I could think was how very different their life is from mine. I ate an enormous and WONDERFUL lunch at the local Taco Bar, and then when it started to rain, decided to treat myself to a massage. The first place I went to was a bit dark and scary, so I left, but across the street seemed clean and beautiful. It was a very nice massage. When I was done with my massage I had about an hour, and decided to go searching for a bar I'd heard about called Beetle Juice, which is where the men go to find prostitutes. I was told that the place is FULL of men, and that the "waitresses" are both beautiful, and not so beautiful women who can be bought for $100/hour. I ran out of time and never found the place - probably a good thing - got to my bus at 5:00 and headed back to the safety of San Jose.
It was a miserable ride home; I literally thought I was going to die for multiple reasons. First of all, the bus driver decided to take a different route through the mountains instead of on the highway. Not only did it take an hour longer, but they drive SO fast, the roads were incredibly windy and there are NO street lights. The fact that I couldn't see the road out the front window, made me wonder how on earth the driver was going to get us home alive. But he did, and I made it home in one piece, and was very pleased with my successful excursion.
At this point, life is still GREAT and I have only two complaints. First, I think my back may be ruined when I return to the states from the bed on which I am sleeping. The mattress is so old and thin that I can literally feel every single bar of the bed frame jamming into my bones all throughout the night. I think my spine may actually be bruised. Second, every single person I am living with has had the stomach bug except for me and my house mom. The other SIX have been in bed, or on the toilet over the past few days. Fingers crossed that I am not next.
Pura Vida y Mucho Amor,
Caroline
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