(no subject)
I don't feel like writing this entry, which is perhaps a stronger indicator than any other that I should do it.
I know I said that I would post something Thursday about pre-departure jitters, but I decided that spending as much time as was possible with Mike was a far better use of my time, and I don't regret that in the slightest.
I suppose I can try to re-cap the pre-departure jitters, but they don't mean the same now that I'm actually laying on my stomach on my living room floor in Pennsylvania typing this. Basically I was just really torn and confused. Wondering if things would really be that great back in the U.S. or if I had just glamourized everything in my mind from being a little homesick. I was eager to return to my family and friends, but hesitant to leave my host family, friends from the program, and of course Mike. Even though I'll be seeing him in a few weeks when he comes over for New Year's, my leaving Costa Rica marked a permanent change in the dynamic of our relationship. Never again will things be exactly as they were in Costa Rica. That's not necessarily a bad thing; sure, we were living a bit of a fairy tale this semester, but that's not to say that the future won't continue to hold love and happiness for us. On the contrary, I think we'll be just fine. It's just that change, regardless of what it brings, is always a bit scary.
So that was what was on my mind. I spent the last few days packing, watching movies and walking around town with Mike, buying a few last-minute gifts, saying good-bye to my friends on the program, and collecting grades.
Speaking of which, here's the breakdown!
Art in Film: 95
Social History of Costa Rica: 90
International Trade Integration: 85
Spanish: 95
Theory of Development: 85
OK so maybe I'm gloating a little, but I'm just so psyched at my International Trade grade... I thought I would be lucky to pass that class and I actually ended up doing pretty well. I even got a 95 on the oral presentation part of my final project!
There are other stories that go along with those grades, but I won't bore you with them just now, especially as some of them feel better told in person.
The day before my flight, my host family gave me some gifts (silver hoop earrings and a painting of a typical Costa Rican house) and took Mike and me out to dinner at an Italian restaurant. It was kind of loud in there, so conversation was difficult and a little awkward, but enjoyable nonetheless. The next morning, Ricardo (middle brother) took Mike and me to the airport. Thankfully, Mike stuck around and helped me figure out the whole airport thing... you have to pay a $26 departure tax before you can check your baggage, and it was pretty crowded and hectic in the airport, so I'm glad he was there. Then the whole tearful good-bye ordeal. I hate good-byes.
Anyway then I sat around in the airport for another hour or so waiting for my boarding time. Then it turned out that Costa Rica had just implemented a new law that day which mandates that all departing planes must be cleared by Security before they can leave. By the time we got on the plane, no flights had left for 2 hours. We were delayed and landed in Houston an hour late, which then sent all the people who had connecting flights into a tizzy. I still had 45 minutes until my connection and thought I could make it. I sprinted to immigration, sprinted to the luggage carousel (even though I had a connection, I had to get my bags because I had to go through customs) only to find that the luggage hadn't arrived yet... then got my luggage 20 minutes later and half-ran with it to customs. I got to customs with 10 minutes left to spare, at which point the woman attending my line told me I was not going to make it and directed me to the airline counter. Fighting back all kinds of tears and panting a little, I found out that my connection was the last flight leaving Houston that night, and that I wouldn't be able to leave until the morning. Images of sleeping in the airport waiting area flashed through my head. However at this point, I fell in love with Continental. The airline paid for me to spend the night at the airport's Marriott, and even gave me $18 in meal vouchers since I would now have to take care of myself for dinner and breakfast, instead of just getting dinner on the plane. Sweaty and gross, I got to the hotel, checked in, called my parents (who were on their way to the airport to pick me up), ordered room service and passed out. The only thing I paid for was the phone call and the internet service that I decided to use. I'm really happy with how the airline took care of me, and it worked out for the best. If I had made my connection, I wouldn't have gotten home until 1am, meaning my parents would have had to be driving that late. This way, I flew into D.C. around 11am, we stopped for lunch afterwards, and got home at a decent hour.
So it was kind of hectic, but just another chapter of the adventure, I suppose. It also gave me an opportunity to have an in-between phase. No going from Costa Rica to home all in the same day; I got to use Houston as a kind of mental preparation, a "yes, I'm actually in the U.S. now."
So I'm here, a little sick but safe and home. I still can't really believe that 5 months have passed already and that it's over. That I did actually manage to survive in a foreign culture and a foreign language, that now it's time to face the next stage of my life. But so it goes, and so do I.
I know I said that I would post something Thursday about pre-departure jitters, but I decided that spending as much time as was possible with Mike was a far better use of my time, and I don't regret that in the slightest.
I suppose I can try to re-cap the pre-departure jitters, but they don't mean the same now that I'm actually laying on my stomach on my living room floor in Pennsylvania typing this. Basically I was just really torn and confused. Wondering if things would really be that great back in the U.S. or if I had just glamourized everything in my mind from being a little homesick. I was eager to return to my family and friends, but hesitant to leave my host family, friends from the program, and of course Mike. Even though I'll be seeing him in a few weeks when he comes over for New Year's, my leaving Costa Rica marked a permanent change in the dynamic of our relationship. Never again will things be exactly as they were in Costa Rica. That's not necessarily a bad thing; sure, we were living a bit of a fairy tale this semester, but that's not to say that the future won't continue to hold love and happiness for us. On the contrary, I think we'll be just fine. It's just that change, regardless of what it brings, is always a bit scary.
So that was what was on my mind. I spent the last few days packing, watching movies and walking around town with Mike, buying a few last-minute gifts, saying good-bye to my friends on the program, and collecting grades.
Speaking of which, here's the breakdown!
Art in Film: 95
Social History of Costa Rica: 90
International Trade Integration: 85
Spanish: 95
Theory of Development: 85
OK so maybe I'm gloating a little, but I'm just so psyched at my International Trade grade... I thought I would be lucky to pass that class and I actually ended up doing pretty well. I even got a 95 on the oral presentation part of my final project!
There are other stories that go along with those grades, but I won't bore you with them just now, especially as some of them feel better told in person.
The day before my flight, my host family gave me some gifts (silver hoop earrings and a painting of a typical Costa Rican house) and took Mike and me out to dinner at an Italian restaurant. It was kind of loud in there, so conversation was difficult and a little awkward, but enjoyable nonetheless. The next morning, Ricardo (middle brother) took Mike and me to the airport. Thankfully, Mike stuck around and helped me figure out the whole airport thing... you have to pay a $26 departure tax before you can check your baggage, and it was pretty crowded and hectic in the airport, so I'm glad he was there. Then the whole tearful good-bye ordeal. I hate good-byes.
Anyway then I sat around in the airport for another hour or so waiting for my boarding time. Then it turned out that Costa Rica had just implemented a new law that day which mandates that all departing planes must be cleared by Security before they can leave. By the time we got on the plane, no flights had left for 2 hours. We were delayed and landed in Houston an hour late, which then sent all the people who had connecting flights into a tizzy. I still had 45 minutes until my connection and thought I could make it. I sprinted to immigration, sprinted to the luggage carousel (even though I had a connection, I had to get my bags because I had to go through customs) only to find that the luggage hadn't arrived yet... then got my luggage 20 minutes later and half-ran with it to customs. I got to customs with 10 minutes left to spare, at which point the woman attending my line told me I was not going to make it and directed me to the airline counter. Fighting back all kinds of tears and panting a little, I found out that my connection was the last flight leaving Houston that night, and that I wouldn't be able to leave until the morning. Images of sleeping in the airport waiting area flashed through my head. However at this point, I fell in love with Continental. The airline paid for me to spend the night at the airport's Marriott, and even gave me $18 in meal vouchers since I would now have to take care of myself for dinner and breakfast, instead of just getting dinner on the plane. Sweaty and gross, I got to the hotel, checked in, called my parents (who were on their way to the airport to pick me up), ordered room service and passed out. The only thing I paid for was the phone call and the internet service that I decided to use. I'm really happy with how the airline took care of me, and it worked out for the best. If I had made my connection, I wouldn't have gotten home until 1am, meaning my parents would have had to be driving that late. This way, I flew into D.C. around 11am, we stopped for lunch afterwards, and got home at a decent hour.
So it was kind of hectic, but just another chapter of the adventure, I suppose. It also gave me an opportunity to have an in-between phase. No going from Costa Rica to home all in the same day; I got to use Houston as a kind of mental preparation, a "yes, I'm actually in the U.S. now."
So I'm here, a little sick but safe and home. I still can't really believe that 5 months have passed already and that it's over. That I did actually manage to survive in a foreign culture and a foreign language, that now it's time to face the next stage of my life. But so it goes, and so do I.