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?

Shooting for the sky

This semester has been fun. Really, really fun. In fact, I tend to have "weekend hangovers" on Mondays... not just the kind that resulted from a few too many at Oktoberfest in Leavenworth this weekend, but the kind that you get from not working for two days and then coming back to work realizing you "could have" done so many productive things.

With friends like these... HOW DO YOU GET ANY WORK DONE!?

I tend to have this feeling after almost everything I do, I guess it is the (very small bit of) perfectionist in me. Kind of like how I left Costa Rica this summer having learned so much, but wishing I had done so much more. So this blog is a public commitment towards making achievable goals for the rest of the semester so that I have tangible successes and CAN'T beat myself up about my last semester in Moscow.

What I am proud of:
-I am getting A's in all of my classes. I love grades how grades can just give you a simple, comfortable "you are doing something right!"
-I am in better shape than I usually am this time of the year. Ran 9 miles on accident the other day... doing plenty of trail running and a few races. Also took a 1 month yoga course and have been hiking. It's nice to know your body is capable of almost anything your friends can throw at you!
-I am happy with singledom now! I can go to bed without wishing I had someone to call, I can go to a party without wishing I had someone to hang on. I can look at my ex and think "you know what's great? that we aren't dating anymore."

What I want to achieve in the 2 months I have left:
-Run a half marathon
-Order all of my field equipment
-Have a written plan of action for the field
-Hire 2 field techs
-Write a rough draft of a review paper

Aaaand goal #1: FINISH THIS STATS HOMEWORK.

Love ya'all.

Sara

How was your summer?

Hi, trusty 5 or 6 readers! I figured now was a good time to post considering it has been *one year and two days* since my first post! There is good news and bad news about this past year:

GOOD NEWS:

1. Still feeling love from my Ole crew

2. I've had adventures in Costa Rica, learned Spanish, met new people/friends. and DONE RESEARCH!

3. I'm FUNDED! I get to finish out my Ph.D. without worrying about funding. I got the Borlaug fellowship, and I'm so proud/happy!

4. I get to start Idaho with a bunch of awesome friends.

BAD NEWS:

1. Sort of starting over (remember my tumultuous spring)

2. Still confused about my research (story of a Ph.D. student's life, really)

3. Moving back and forth constantly makes it hard to set roots. I read my very first post and felt a little weird. Yes, I have achieved many of those goals/expectations I had for myself, but I still feel very similar to how I did last summer. Like there is so much that I don't know about my future and I'm still just... Starting Out.... again!

Bienvenidos a Hojancha

I love Hojancha. So much. We climbed up on rutted dirt roads, and above the pastures and forest and tree plantations we could see the whole countryside. The people are kind, the houses for rent are gorgeous, and the promise of my project is sinking in. I'm so exited. As I type, I am sitting at a hostel on the beach in Montezuma (where I just randomly ran into an Ole that I graduated with last spring!!) and honestly, I just keep thinking.... I can't WAIT to go back and start my work in Hojancha. Here is a picture of my life right now: