Stressed, but blessed

It's been a while, but I think it's a good time for me to reflect on where I've been and whats going on in my life these days...

1. The End Goal
I had an amazing trip back to Moscow in October, complete with Octoberfest, friend time, boyfriend time, and a college friend reunion. I had some good meetings, too, and worked while I was gone, but in general I felt disconnected with the academic world. In a networking-dependent career, feeling like you don't belong at your own University is not a good feeling. I wonder if I will ever get back into the fast-paced academia lifestyle... or if I even want to. Sometimes I feel like my Ph.D. experience is training me to live more "tranquilo", more "pura vida", and much less training me to become a competitive Dr. Galbraith. I have learned how to navigate so many logistical challenges... but is that the training I came here for? It's not that I don't appreciate all of the life lessons, language training, and challenging experiences... I just want to make sure I get to that end goal, too.

Hiking near Mt. Ranier with one of my bffs from Olaf, plus the bfs

2. Belonging
I have been trying to develop a sense of belonging since I got here. It is a lot more challenging in a place where you can't express yourself fully due to a language barrier. At first, I was meeting students, then 20-something travelers and volunteers, and now I've been spending mostly time with young professionals. Not only does the diverse crowd offer a few English speakers (sometimes you just need a break from learning a new language,) but I really feel inspired by how they have developed their lives. Also, we have hobbies in common! I can't say I really feel like part of the community yet, but at least I am starting to understand a little better where I might fit in.

Nothing brings people together like cute babies

3. Grey areas in pulling the "cultural" card
Lately, I've been increasingly irritated with the way I am sometimes treated here. Is it culture? Small-town life? Am I responding incorrectly? Should I change my cellphone number so that people can't get it from my friends? Should I flip off the kind-looking old man who I thought was my friend until he shouted "MUY GUAPA!!" and said something crude about my dress? I think what bothers me most is my lack of clever responses. At home, I knew exactly when it was inappropriate to tell someone to back off. Here, I'm never as certain. I come from a strong belief that I should be able to wear what I want and talk to males without expecting disrespectful results. Here, I find myself scared to even make eye contact in some circumstances. I sometimes change my clothes before I leave the house because I am afraid that someone will find my clothing too alluring. Like I am guilty, and if I act the wrong way, it is my fault that they objectify me.

I don't want to act like I am the expert on any cultural group, or make generalizations outside of those who have treated me like that. I love this place, and in many ways I trust the community here more than anywhere I have lived before. My friend posted a really nice piece on Facebook (disclaimer: I probably understand only 80% of this): http://mujeressilvestres.wordpress.com/2013/10/07/viendo-a-una-mujer-una-conversacion-entre-padre-e-hijo/. I think a lot of people are mindful of this problem, and are willing to talk about it, which is nice.

4. Sharing!
Of course, the main reason I'm here, my project is always one of the main things on my mind. This week I got to present for the Hojancha Beekeeping Association, plus I'm preparing a few posters for an Agro-forestry festival coming up in December. Nothing is more exciting (and nerve-inducing!) than getting to put your work out there and see how people respond. I'm anxious to get back out in the field, but in the meantime, I hope to get some of the people where I live interested in what I'm doing, and give some people good info about BEES!

Field trip with the Hojancha Beekeeping Association

Homecoming (and going)

Since the last post, I've been going home a lot. Home to my true home in Wisconsin, home to my friends in Minnesota, home to wherever my sister is, home to a new family experience in Michigan. It was nice to realize how many places in the world feel like home to me, but I must admit that the longer I spent away from Costa Rica, the harder it was to come back. As cliche as it sounds, it wasn't until I stepped off the plane in Liberia, Costa Rica and smelled the tropical air- that mix of humidity, trees, diesel, and flowers- that I was relieved to find I was making yet another homecoming.

I also found that I was more stressed by travel than ever before. It could have been the constant travelling (Minnesota, Aniwa, Wisconsin Dells, Minnesota, Aniwa, Cabin, Aniwa, Ferry, Michigan, Chicago, NYC in three weeks). It may have been the overwhelming excitement of reuniting with so many loved ones, or the stress of saying goodbye as many times. It also may have been the stress of attending 4 academic conferences in 4 months, plus having a pile of deadlines and works-in-progress being ignored. Either way, I was physically exhausted and mentally worn by week two. It was a little much for me to handle, and I think I have to start turning down the volume on my excursions from now on. Hopefully not. Travel will probably always be a part of my life, and I don't want to start burning out on it yet!

All and all, it was an incredible trip. Just a little summary:

Traditional weekend in the Dells with Carmyn and Lindsay

Just being HOME!

The return of the "why don't I live in MPLS?"question...BFFs since we were St. Olaf First Years!

Three great men in a boat, on my favorite lake.

I finally got to see the beautiful orchard!

NYC 

SO. Now what? I have to get back into the "work" mindset. Field work starts again on Monday. Until then, it is prep and taking care of all of the loose ends at work. I'm going to try to make a list of goals and make the next couple of months productive enough to take more breaks to see the people I love. It's not easy to focus after such an emotional August: love, stress, fear, excitement, happiness, sadness. All of these experiences this year and last year were thanks to the job I signed up to do... guess I better get on it again!

Here we go... year 3 of the road to Ph.D!

Six months living latina... and over one year since I 'met' Hojancha!

It's been a while since I updated on life in CR. Since then, I've attended/presented at a few academic meetings, brought Knute, another student, here for some summer help, visited my awesome friends and boyfriend in Colorado, and gone on adventures with wonderful visitors. 

One thing I am stopping to think about on this rainy afternoon is how much I have progressed since a year ago, when I first left for Hojancha, and even six months ago, when I started my two-year stay here. Here is a visual of one year ago v. this year:

I am clearly much cooler than I was last June.

One thing that seems different is my relationship with this place I now call home. It is really clear to me when I have visitors. I can remember how nervous I was to drive around my first visitor (Chad!) In fact, I worked really hard to figure out how to drive my car (a manual) before he got here. I even remember trying to figure out routes to the airport/beach/bus. When my sis came to visit, I was already a lot more comfortable driving and getting around. We went to Volcan Arenal and I even dropped her off at the San Jose airport!!!! Those of you who have ever seen me drive in the city understand how important that is.

Since my last post, my friends Joe, Katie and Audrey have visited. I felt like I could give them the real Costa Rica experience. Joe still talks about how much he misses Hojancha and the great people here. I thought it was really interesting to travel with Audrey, who lived in Guatamela for two years in the Peace Corps. She speaks better Spanish then me, and had a really different perspective of Costa Rica after just passing through on a tour a few years ago. A lot of people see the well-polished tourism side of Costa Rica and don't get to experience the "real" tico culture. I love that a few days in Hojancha can completely change how people see Costa Rica. 

In other Hojancha news, it is harvest time for all sorts of fruits and vegetables and I'm having a lot of fun exploring local eating in Costa Rica! Here is a picture of a guayaba (?) that I picked in the field, and Simon harvesting bananas from the back yard. We also have sweet corn, basil, mint, oregano, mangos, guava, and limon all ready/almost ready to harvest! It almost makes me less homesick for strawberry season in Wisconsin...

Speaking of which, I get to go home in four weeks! I can't wait. And, to make it even better, Chad is coming with me, then taking me to his home in Michigan. His family owns an apple orchard! On this beautiful fourth of July in Costa Rica, I can't help but daydream about spending a few days on the lake, drinking gin and tonics and teaching Chad the ways of Scrabble/Boggle/Bananagrams with the whole family, and playing with/yelling at Sheila... heaven!!!

Thank you, body.

How many weeks have I been doing field work? I guess I have almost hit 2 months. The days are blurring together... I have memorized all of the local radio stations and most of the songs they commonly play while I drive around all morning (zanculo loco, loco, loco, loco....) I've forgotten how to sleep in past 6am. I have boxes full of pinned bees in my closet and can never pin them fast enough to eliminate all of the bags from the freezer. My field clothes are now just my clothes and my first reaction to every party, festival, and opportunity to drink alcohol with youths is exasperation and annoyance (note to my Hojancha friends: this only means you should try harder to get me out of the house in the night!)

Some days, I can barely get out of bed. It seems exhausting even to have to put on my clothes (how can it be so hot before 530 am!?) and gather all of my gear. Other days, I find myself practically running up the hills. I get to meet so many cool people and see and learn everything about the peninsula... and I'm gettng PAID to do it! It helps me stay positive even as the sweat bees nibble my ears and the car tires skid around our questionable roads. In addition, that is what I tell my glutes as they try to get me up ANOTHER hill.

Guys? Guys? WAIT FOR ME!!!

Why are all of the best data collection sites in such hard-to-reach places?

Some days I even choose to continue doing physical activity after getting back from doing field work. This is usually "Insanity" workout videos with Simon or running. Last week, Charlie, Simon, Jose Mario and I greeted one of the first afternoon downpours with a 45-minute run on some dirt roads and forested paths near town. It was heavenly! At times it was raining so hard that I had to squint my eyes to block out streams of rainwater. The dusty streets of Hojancha soaked it up like a sponge and so did I.

The next day, as I scurried to keep up with a strong 60-something cattle farmer, I thanked myself for doing everything I have been doing in the last couple of years to stay somewhat in shape. Sometimes I get angry at exersize for not giving me six-pack abs and the ability to run particularly fast or long distances compared to those with natural talent. But, in my daily pursuits as a bug scientist, I'm constantly asking my body to keep up with people who have been doing physcal work every day for their whole lives. I don't think I could do this job- period- if I came straight from off of the couch.

Cundo poses by another rewarding view

In the same way, food has taken on a new meaning for me. I know I have heard similar stories from my friends who do a lot of backpacking, canoeing, etc. Cereal and toast just don't make any sense to me now that I know I am going to be working my body until 1pm. My housemates probably think I'm insane for getting up 30 minutes earlier than I have to just so that I can make a breakfast of mango smoothie, eggs, veggies, tortilla, and plantain. Just like not enough coffee=headache, not enough protein=hungry at 10 and not enouh liquids=light headed on the first steep hill.

Honestly, depending on my body so much scares me sometimes, too. What if I twisted an ankle and couldn't hike for a few weeks? What if I tripped and broke a wrist while running and couldn't carry all of my gear with me? What would I do? Just take a break from one of two critical field seasons? Come to think of it, how have my parents dealt with injuries or illnesses during almost 3 decades of farming? I guess all you can do is give thanks, strength train and eat well...

un mes más

Today Chad and I had a conversation that went like this:

Me: "We get to see each other so soon! This week I prepare for Nilsa (my advisor)'s visit, then she is here for a week, then I prepare for the IGERT meeting, then I have that for a week, then I get to see you in Colorado! Then I have visitors in June, then the teak blooms in July, then I see you in August, then..." (and so on until I had summarized the next 10 months in such a manner)

Chad: "Just wait until you get a little older. You'll be referring to time in years instead of months because time just keeps going more and more quickly." 

I paraphrased that a little bit. But it really blows my mind how the older I get + the busier I get + the more fully I enjoy myself, the more quickly time slides through my fingers. Take the last month or so:

I had such a great time with Chad: We went to Isla Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua, climbed a volcano, visited 4 beaches on the peninsula, did field work, cooked together, swam in the neighborhood pool, and had an awesome pirate-themed party for Chad, Kahlil, and Ilianet. 

Party! Party! Party!

I also started doing hardcore field work! Everyday I get up at 530am. By 630 am I pick up Cundo, the world's best teacher/field assistant. Then, we either search for more parcels, collect traps, or set up new ones. It involves climbing steep farms and constantly talking Spanish, so by time I get back at noon I am EXHAUSTED. Then I have to answer emails, pin insects, try to identify a few, and attempt to keep up with my team/student duties. I will post a blog soon with photos from my coffee farms and pastures... not sure why my teak parcels get all of the photographic attention:

Sometimes I post pictures of myself looking kind of nice while I do fieldwork. Those pictures are lies.

Here is one from one of the days where Chad was throwing rope into the teak canopy for me. Still can't figure out how he did that. Oscar and I spent a full hour trying to get one rock over the lowest branch ever. 

Other than that, I have tried to keep the last week more or less uneventful except for work (7 days a week!)  One big event did happen yesterday... I bought hens! Four "rescue hens" from the egg farm. These ladies are enjoying their space, vegetable castings, over-ripe mango, and sweet exercise equipment. I would like them to roam free but I've seen what the neighbor's fighting roosters do to a pretty young hen. Plus, I'm quite certain they wouldn't know what to do with that kind of freedom.

I got four eggs this morning! Already thinking about buying a few chicks to raise for meat. 

 Also I set rat poison because the squeaking and running in the ceiling is no longer passing for geckos.

Sights in the Peninsula this March...

Sunset in the melon fields

Yoga in the plaza

My favorite baby on the beach

Destruction in "improved" pastures

Innovation in the apiaries

Hidden beauty close to home

Top 5 reasons why the last 48 hours was the perfect Hojancha experience:

Hangin' with Oscar's son, Kahlil

1. Friends and neighbors gathering at my house for a BBQ celebration. The food was done incredibly late and the arepas were a disaster, but I love having the people in my life gather together. Nothing makes me happier. I sat on the grass under the stars and listened to my awesome neighbor, Raul, tell fishing stories. The best part is, I almost understood every conversation!

2. Driving alone to the beach for a Saturday afternoon of sunshine, reading, and swimming. Anyone who has known me for a long time knows that driving is a bit intimidating to me. In fact, I only started to drive a manual when I moved to Costa Rica last summer. I can now jump in the car and drive on often steep, pot-holey dirt roads to a number of my favorite destinations. It gave me an incredible feeling of independence, solitude, and freedom.


3. The most epic run I have been on in Costa Rica. My friend Charlie took me on a 45 minute trail run up a crazy steep path above Hojancha. From the top, we could see the gulf, and then the whole town. He always points out his favorite flowering trees and tells me stories about the area, which I love. I can't wait to take my friend Audrey on this run!!

Charlie at the mirador over Hojancha

4. My Ecuadorian housemate made empanadas for dinner. Everyone here cooks so well! Plus, I was starving after that run.

5. A night of guitar and violin music with amazing singing by Alex Piedra. We went to a benefit concert for the school in Matambu (an indigenous territory) and I was blown away. The rural setting and modest attendance had me expecting a casual night of listening to local musicians. I ended up experiencing some of the best live guitar I have ever heard.

Imagine Rodrigo and Gabriela playing an intimate concert for you and your friends. That's pretty close to what was happening. 

Is this how hard I was supposed to be working this whole time?

WHOA, folks. Apparently it took me a year and a half to reach the physically exhausting, all-consuming, busy busy BUSY part of my education. The past weeks have gone by in a blur. They have been full of visiting farms, talking to beekeepers, attending presentations, spending boatloads of money on equipment, and not having time to/forgetting to do 60% of the things I need to do every day. I haven't partied in WEEKS. I only went on two runs last week. My clothes are all dirty.

Im not complaining. I love it!

Using a bow and arrow to send rope into the canopy and set traps. It's hard not to pose a little bit when you are holding a weapon like that. 

Riding in the back of a truck with my beekeeping sensay (sp?) Cundo. Also, there is at least a month between this pic and the above pic. And almost no variety in my outfits. 

I'm on fulltime smoke duty when helping Alfredo and Cundo with the bees. These two men are helping me so much with my project, and I couldn't be more grateful!

Visiting a maximum-security melon farm. Gee, I wonder what they are hiding...

Selecting sites from the beautiful orange, coffee, forest, and pasture farms the owners so generously take me to see.

I have to be incredibly thankful, because every door I open seems to hold a new opportunity. I have met people who have handed me valuable data, telling me that they care about my project and want to see me do big things. I feel a ton of pressure to do something important with my work- which is both scary and already very rewarding. I feel so happy and blessed to be doing something that might make a difference to these good people. They are teaching me so much just by showing me how they live a happy life here in Hojancha.

I think this generosity and happiness is part of what makes Guanacaste a Blue Zone, an area with very high scores on the happiness index and some of the longest lifespans in the world (more on that in another post). The healthy traditional diet of heritage corn, fruits, vegetables, and beans probably doesn't hurt either. I'm taking notes.

 But I can't resist mentioning that one the things making ME happy is this guy:

Oh, doing a little light reading there, buddy?

He's going to be here in three weeks, how lucky am I? Plus, a bonus of getting free field help.

Hojancha Rednecks

Everything is Pura Vida in Hojancha right now. I am living in a great little furnished house right in town; my housemates are students who only speak Spanish with me, and this morning I learned how to make a traditional Costa Rican breakfast (Gallo Pinto).

Before leaving my little yellow house on the hill, we did some grilling out and drinking in the front yard and I stopped to lovingly observe the place I have called home while here in Hojancha. This includes:

A motley assortment of pups that are regularly provided with food scraps and love

Multi-colored Christmas lights that alternate between flashing patterns (reminder: it is February)

A tendency to adopt any lost and frightened animal

Virtually no furniture and many shirtless men



 A borrowed grill in our front yard that we use quite frequently

 

 It was then I realized that we are the rednecks of our little neighborhood. I'm definitely excited to start a new page of my CR life (and meet Oscar's family, who move here from PR in a few days!!!), but I'm also going to miss the hilarity of living with these guys. The good news is: the cleanliness of our washed dishes and pristine common areas in the new house more than makes up for it ;)

Culture shock returns

I remember standing on the beach in Nosara last summer during the second week of Spanish lessons and finding that my mind was completely blank. I didn't have the vocabulary to let my mind wander in my new language, but my whole brain was resisting the impulse to return to the familiar flow of English. I would have to pause while writing emails, especially to my bilingual teammates. Was a ready to communicate to them in their Mother tongue? Would I still completely embarrass myself? Was I being weak by sending them the meeting agenda in English and just sandwiching it between my newly learned Spanish salutations?

Six months down the road not a lot has changed. Culture shock is not just about being frustrated by a new language. It is the constant nagging that you might be doing something wrong: Are my shorts too short? Should I smile and wave at a sweet looking old man who says "Hola, amor," or is he being a creep? I don't know.

In the US I'm a pretty social person. I always spend time with friends and I am not intimidated by meeting new people. The isolation that comes from a combination of language and culture barriers tends to wear on me quickly, making me feel like I'm doing something wrong or suddenly failing at something I know I can do. I feel a lot like I did last night while Oscar was giving me a surfing lesson: I was paddling and duck-diving with every bit of power in my body, but a glance back on the beach would always reveal that I was barely staying in place.

When approaching a biological study in a new country, it is tempting to push these kinds of problems aside and focus on my bugs and my books. Fortunately (and unfortunately when I'm having a particularly hard day), everything I do here relies on my social networks: the farmers who let me into their fields, the carpenters who build me insect boxes, the local students who have the best connections for affordable housing. I have been lucky enough to meet a lot of good people who have been helping me out and making things a lot easier.

Times like these I give extra thanks for my Liberal Arts education... for experience travelling in other places that were challenging in different ways... for being taught that communication is one of the most valuable skills...for emails and Skype sessions and phone calls and letters home... for my Puerto Rican brothers that will always translate, even if they tease me for it...and for the fact that Friday is pizza and movie night in our little yellow house on the hill and the movies at least have English captions and the pizza tastes just like home.

Lesson #1 of studying abroad: buy a guitar ASAP.

It might take a couple leaps and bounds to get my blog from Fall 2012 in Idaho to Spring 2013 in Costa Rica. Not only is the physical relocation always a bit of a mind-blower, but I feel like the season of my life has changed almost as much as the scenery.

When I arrived in Costa a few days ago, I got to skip the usual taxi->bus->bus->taxi because I flew into Liberia, a town in the Nicoya Peninsula where I live. My friend/co-worker Oscar picked me up on his way back from a surfing trip. I felt like I was coming home more than going to an exotic location. Oscar and Simon welcomed me with their usual Puerto Rican flair and I've been pretty happy ever since.

The dry season is certainly distinct in Hojancha. Where the mountains used to be dressed in extravagant tropical greenery, there are now patches of dusty brown nudity. The walk to the grocery store used to be hot but manageable... I now find myself considering fashioning a hat out of a shower cap and ice cubes just to ensure survival on the 1/2 mile through blazing sunlight.

Yesterday, Simon and I went to the beach. It was magnificent despite the sunburn that penetrated many layers of 55 SPF. We also did a circuit workout on the beach. No matter how fit you think you are, you will never succeed at a workout with a college athlete in the late morning Costa Rican sunshine after a few weeks of drinking dark beer and catching up on movies.

But here I am! And on Monday we go to the field and start this science business. I can't wait.

Missing my Idahomies already, but it's time to learn more about the Pura Vida!!!

PS did I mention I'm prob renting this adorable house with some students I met?