Airports are like a Personal Bubble-filled Socialistic Society

Airports and I have a love hate relationship. They love to make life difficult and I hate them for it. However, people-watching in an airport is unique and entertaining. The last big trip I took I spent quite a bit of time laughing outloud at people...while trying to avoid snide looks and glares. But it is difficult not to, let's say "appreciate" the style sense and comfort levels of mixed-pot crowds we encounter. I think I'll start with Mr. Beach-Business Man. He sported the lovely Hawiian patterened boardshort, with a poly-cotton blend collared polo...tucked in of course. He accessorized with a fashionable blue tooth and a leather briefcase, while biskly walking in flip flops. VOGUE should difinitely seek him out.

In addition to appreciating the many fashions, I also noticed the space consuming monster...know as the "Personal Bubble". I was reminded of the "Bubble Boy" episode from Seinfeld. For a few brief moments I pictured an airport full of people in physical personal bubbles, rolling around and bumping into each other like the ultimate mix of Gladiators and Bumper Cars. Three men took up 7 chairs; butts on one seat, book on the other and carry-on parked in its own space in front of the 3 chair. Maybe people like to take up extra space in the airport because they know their bubbles will be invaded upon mearly entering the jetway.

Airports do, however, seemed to be a cultural equalizer. Everyone has to have a boarding pass. Everyone have to take their shoes off. Everyone has to roll their own personal bubble to their personal uncomfortable chair. Then Everyone has to POP their bubble to enter the jetway and board the plane. Everyone waits, and Everyone leaves and arrives at the same time. Airports are 'classless' in a sense. So, does that mean that airports are a sort of micro-model of a socialistic, or even communistic society...Hardly, but it was an entriguing thought.

Silver...where?

I think I’m learning that the phrase “creatures of habit” runs a lot deeper than I thought it did. There are so many things in my life that I do, just because I was raised that way. But since I’ve come here to Costa Rica, there are things that I’ve realized aren’t necessary just because its how everyone does something, or the way someone thinks. For example, on a small scale, my family keeps all of our silverware in a plastic container in the fridge. I just realized that the utensils are in the fridge because we don’t have drawers in the kitchen. Brilliant. Silverware doesn’t NEED to be in a drawer…it could be in a box beneath the sink or in a jar in the cupboard…drawers aren’t necessary. This brings me to ideas that are a little more controversial—such as premarital sex. I’ve heard someone say that premarital sex is okay because the Bible only mentions sexual immorality, which is a question of interpretation. I’ve put a little more thought into this question, as opposed to the silverware issue, but I realize that people—Christians—believe this. So now I just struggle with this and mountains of other questions. Just keep’n my mind open.

I found out that its risky to keep an open mind. 1) you realize that everything you believe might be right and 2) sometimes it requires change and 3) people you love are sometimes not so happy with the ‘non-traditional, liberal and pluralistic’ way of thinking that I’ve adapted. But to learn and understand more…its worth the cost. I think.

Panama...where to begin

I finally lived a life of simplicity, and it was so rewarding. A life focused on people, not on things. A life focused on time, not on money. A life where true dependence on God for the daily bread and fish isn’t exchanged for dependence in a bank account. It is a beautiful thing. Now, how do I bring that back to the U.S.? I obviously can’t live in a hut with no electricity and no car and no bathroom. There are things that we are unable to live without in order to survive. But I still can’t figure out where the balance is. But I think the changes in my life that need to happen wont be extreme like I’ve always assumed they would be. I always thought that the extreme changes would be hard, but I could do it. But extreme change, even if possible, is less difficult than changing my daily habits and way of thinking. Such as:

Buying organic foods to support small farmers and to rid the environment of pesticides

Using less plastic: shopping bags, containers, sandwich bags, cups, plates and the list continues.

Eat less meat. I learned that by becoming a vegetarian, one contributes more to the environment than by buying a hybrid car.

Simple things, but difficult things, to live intentionally in order to serve God on a different level.

Monte Verde

This trip made me fall in love with Costa Rica. It was an amazing spring break filled with relaxing, a zip line, meeting crazy dutch men, good food and great dancing! I dont want to write much more, so here are a bunch of great pictures!!!

Another Volcano

I went to a volcano this weekend and it was amazing. And the volcano was in the middle of the jungle. At one point I was walking on the path and I felt like I was in the Chronicles of Narnia…except in the jungle rather than the snow. I’m just blown away at the biodiversity here and just the beauty. There was an eclipse this weekend and I was struck by the brilliance of the moon. It almost hurt to look at it because it was so bright. And the stars in Nicaragua actually twinkled. The one guy nailed it on the head when he sang, “What a wonderful world.” And I don’t even think he new the full truth of that statement. Anyway…I am blessed.

What a Childhood

So yesterday I watched a movie about DDT, transgenic crops, and the destruction of the environment and GNO or something like that. They showed Pioneer corn, Round-Up and of course corn fields (from North Dakota)…so sad. But…I felt like home. It was so wonderful.

Then, I was talking with my friend, Seth…the guy that thinks a lot and always has an argument for everything. I think he uses a larger percentage of his brain than most people do. Anyway, I was feeling really jealous about how much he knows…about everything. I wished that I could be as intentional about learning and searching for information… (without all the work and reading of course). I told him this and he said, “Yeah, but Liz, do I know how to cut cabbage?” Nope…he doesn’t. And that made me happy.

I realize now in Costa Rica how much more I understand about the world and life being that I grew up on a farm. I understand erosion and the idea of maximum capacity for a piece of land…something that affects sheep farmers in the Middle East and Israel. I understand cross pollination and transgenetic corn…which affects 90% of the corn industry in Mexico. I understand affects of the weather, which caused the loss of potato crops in Ireland and Peru. I know about stable foods, the idea of working to literally put food on the table and the feeling of lack of control over your income. I also know how to milk a cow and catch chickens. SO SWEET in itself.

A crazy conference

First…its amazing how when you have a rough week and everything hits the fan, God totally picks you up in ways you wouldn’t expects…funny cards, e-mails, humor in struggle…not to mention a completely ridiculous conferences.

You wont find this nearly as funny as I did for many reasons, but this is partly to help me remember the story. Here’s what happened. We had this conference with this biology professor (67 gray-haired gringo, hits the table when he talks, paces, definitely uses his voice) who ‘works at the 5 biggest universities in Costa Rica’ so he ‘obviously’ knows what he is talking about. I’m sure he did…I’m probably just a little too stupid to catch what it was. Anyway, after blithering on and on about lots of things (mostly globalization) and quoting lots of books he threw in this statement:

“Eskimos’ survival depends on their ability to distinguish 62 different types of snow…I don’t know if that’s true because I saw it in a movie.”

And then:

“…and my last name is Crowther, which obviously means the one that takes care of birds.”

Then he gave us ‘marriage advice’ and told us not ‘to have any expectations, it’s great’ that way.
I laughed until I cried…and then I started to wheeze from laugher…it was great. I’m really liking my friends here and I’m trying to soak up the time with them. God has been so faithful and I don’t want to forget how His crazy Mighty hand is working in all of this.

Old Story, New Blog

So I must have this fascination with musicals or something because I’m always singing, I love almost every musical I’ve seen and one day I’d love to have someone follow me around with a guitar and play background music to everything I do…how sweet would that be. Anyway, I’ve had this new obsession with my trips into and out of San José. Every time I’m on the bus I imagine everyone (you know, the tired, serious pissed-off looking people) suddenly smiling and breaking out into song…like High School Musical, except on a bus…in Spanish. *Like a blizzard, only different.* So get this. After I expressed this ridiculous desire to my friend Amanda, IT HAPPENED, almost. She was riding the bus one morning and a drunk, crazy or possessed man stood up in the front of the bus and started singing at the top of his lungs! FOR TIPS!! How great is that. Too bad I wasn’t there because I would have peed my pants laughing, not to mention that he would have gotten and extra tip from me. Wow. What a life. God can use the most odd situations to bring a smile to my face. Thanks.

It’s always really hard to leave a place that you love…but I guess that’s the same with anything you love—it should be hard to leave, let go of, or lose. That’s how I feel about Nicaragua. The first time I went there, there wasn’t much I loved about it—but this time it captured my heart. My family was incredible, than they were beautifully sincere and intentional people. They really did take me in like a daughter, sister and even aunt…which I loved of course. I saw a genuine side of Latin American culture and people that haven’t quite seen in Costa Rica…not to mention the change in the ‘time concept’ which took full course where I’ve stayed. God totally blessed my time there and I hope to return one day.

Since I’ve been back I’ve learned more about my family than when I left. But since I’ve given up complaining for Lent (I know stupid…but it’s really changed my attitude), I don’t want to write what I’ve noticed with the small chance that my honesty will be mistaken for complaining. ~Perhaps a snake mistook it for an egg and ate it.~ (side note/inside joke, sorry). Back to the point…I’m still learning.

Funny story: In Nicaragua we stayed at a convention center for a couple of days. Well, on the first night when we went out to eat something happened with the water and 4 of our rooms were flooded…I’m talking like almost 2 inches of water in every room. Instead of crying about out wet things and adding more water to the swamp…we turned the tragedy into a slip n’ slide, with a intermission to make ‘water angels’ in memory of out Midwest weather situation. Most people thought what we did was gross and that we were stupid. Lesson 1: Being ‘cool’ is SO LAME!! Lesson 2: I’m still a kid at heart. Lesson 3: God so rocks all the time…because a flooded room is just what I needed!!

Other things:
-Praise God for my friend Amanda who has just been AMAZING!!! I love her.
-My body broke out in some crazy red rash…hope it’s not Dangay.
-Went to Honduras!! Woo Hoo. It rained a whole lot.
-You can make like 32 kinds of food (breakfast, lunch, supper, desert and drinks) from corn. No joke.
-I was told that the first corn in Iowa was grown underground by cavemen from someone in Nicaragua. Let me know if this is true.
-Nicaraguan history is was more interesting than US history.
-Learned how to box…a dream come true.
-Made nacatomales….FROM CORN!!! No way.

Randomness

Things I’m still getting used to:

PDA—couples will randomly make out on the bus…along with hands all over each other

Some places just smell REALLY bad.

I saw a dead rat in the run-off ditch by the road. (I hate rats, but better dead than alive)

Not making eye contact with people.

Speaking Spanish in the morning

Potholes


Things I’m finally okay with:

Throwing away my toilet paper

Fresh fruit juice—everyday!

Taking public busses

Blaring sun and drizzling rain, at the same time

Comfort

I went to the beach again. It was splendid. But I recently realized that the places themselves aren’t what make the experience great. As cliché as it sounds, its really how God shows Himself. Maybe a better way to say it is that I ‘get life’. It’s like everyday of my life I get caught up in me, and all the junk that fills my time—disguised as homework and my ‘to do’ list. But on vacation I see life…real life. Like seeing a blowfish. Listening to friends laugh. Watching a sunset and moonrise. And reading a chapter of a book—one that feels like a biography. There’s just something about getting away that makes me feel so much more like…like I’m where I need to be.
I think that’s how God feels about comfort; whether that’s in routine, money, tradition, beliefs or whatever. Its hard to leave it because its just ‘what you do’. But if you can find the time to pull away, you somehow get a glimpse of ‘completeness’ that the comfort just doesn’t have. Knowing this should make leaving comfort a bit easier…yet it doesn’t. I guess we just have to force ourselves to get away, even if it does cost a lot (like a trip to the beach). But feeling a bit more complete…now THAT, wow—how do you put that in words.

The Pick Up

It seems like I’m been on a roller coaster emotions, thoughts, businesses and more lately. Maybe it’s just because I’m a girl (the whole estrogen thing) but I’m guessing that’s not it. Mostly I’m just struggling with knowing where God wants to take me and how He wants me to look at and appreciate the whole around me. Its hard, I must admit. I miss the conveniences of my life in the States and often wish I didn’t have to ‘deal’ with things like busses and exchanging money and putting on my ‘don’t mess with me, even though I’m a white female’ face.

But I have to remember this: frustration is good. Finding comfort and satisfaction in frustration isn’t.


Last weekend I went to the beach and it was just what I needed. I saw monkeys and crabs. I made a sand igloo to remember how much I miss home…or not J I played soccer on the beach and I danced the night away to Calypso. I went to a banana plantation and saw, well duh, bananas. I talked and laughed and journaled and laughed some more.

Funny things:

A 40 year old guy tried to pick me up on the bus the other night. I thought he was going to follow me home. Amazing how I seem to get myself in odd situations like that. The offer was tempting being that he was old(er), not so attractive, living with his parents and ‘drank away his sorrows’ on the weekend. But he said he wanted to buy a Harley so that was a plus.

My friend with little feet fell in a TINY water filled whole why walking on the sidewalk. For once I was glad I have slightly larger feet.

I wasn’t a minority today. I went to a coffee shop and a TON of white people came in. It was odd. Heather and I started talking in Spanish and I think deep down it was because I didn’t want them to understand. Heartless…just heartless.

A glimse...something more profound.

It’s easy to believe things are true or false…blank and white. The things we’ve been told or taught from the time we were kids have just always been ‘truth’—no questions asked, or at least no questions that were challenging enough to make a difference. But now I’m faced with information that contradicts what I’ve always thought was true—things about the government, interpreting scripture and my North American lens through which I view everything. And I’m stuck. I’ve come to realize that the gray area between the black and white is much larger than I thought. The hard part is being okay with the gray area, yet not being okay with staying there.

I clearly look at life through a white, North American, female, protestant Christian, middle class lens. But what does that mean? When I see the tin, stained with graffiti that lines the side of houses, or when I dread holding the grimy handrail while I’m packed in like cattle on the bus, what do others see—think—feel. How does the indigenous, Latino American, Catholic, lower-class male view life through his lens? And will I ever get a glimpse?

Bus, dancing and indecent exposure

So finding landmarks for my bus stops was a brilliant idea. But when you only find landmarks when you’re sitting down and on the right side of the bus, its hard to find your stop when…for example, you have to stand the whole ride and the windows are fogged over and wet because of the rain. Yes, that was my first experience on the bus by myself.

I came here hoping to learn how to dance and what not, because that Latinas can pretty much tear up the dance floor like none other. Being that I hadn’t been to dance class and I had no idea about the Merengue…I was pretty much scared to death when I found out that my little sister was going to have around 40 thirteen year-olds at her birthday party…all dancing. After thinking about this for a while I figured…I’m the 22 year-old gringa, I’m not going to fit in no matter what I do. So I had two options: 1. Dance and be that sweet gringa with the best dance skills ever, or 2. Look ridiculous because I can’t dance. Either way, it didn’t matter. So I challenged the ‘wanna-be thug’ to a dance off. Needless to say, despite the break dance moves and the Eminem attitude….the ‘worm’ still takes them all. And that’s what I did; brushed off my shoulders and did the ‘worm’ and definitely impressed all the guys.

Funny Things:

The man in the park who makes funny faces *(I’m not laughing because he’s homeless, only because he makes really funny faces to get money)

Spanish voice-overs on Nick Jr. The kids all sounds like they’re 35.

The Tico on the bus jamming out to Vanilla Ice

My friend Laura who dances like Elaine from Seinfeld…only worse

How all the women have matching shoes, clothes and jewelry (to the T) but then have bright pink ‘Hello Kitty’ bags or something like that, that totally don’t match.

My Tica friend, when slightly boracha, speaks better English than when sober.

**(This really isn’t that funny, just odd) Indecent exposure really isn’t looked down upon. I went to a big festival and well lets just say that the men’s line to the bathroom was non-exist. A wall, bushes or the back of a bus were sufficient.

Pura Vida...Que Tuanis

It’s hard to believe that I am actually in Costa Rica…with los ticos (costa ricans). Needless to say, I’ve am slightly overwhelmed, but the Spanish part is going great. My host family is absolutamente in credible. Wow. But as far as culture goes, I have a lot to learn. After a crash course in ‘street language’ from my sisters, I feel a little be better about Costa Ricans lingo…such ‘pura vida’ or ‘que tuanis’. However, knowing how and when to use those words is the hard part. But I stay stupid things all the time…so why not try to add a ‘pura vida’ comment in the wrong place and add to the list of stupid comments. I’m sure it will happen regardless of my efforts.

So today, as I was walking around San Jose, I felt like all the people were singing to themselves “there she is just walking done the street, ‘looking blanca(white) and nerviosa.’” (With an obvious change in the words). Simply said, I am white and I often look lost. One day I’ll look like a Tico…but who knows when.

Ps. I saw Barney and Mickey Mouse in the plaza today. It made me laugh. I also ran down an up escalator. That made me laugh too. But not the security guard.

Things I’ve learned already:

1. Public bus systems are not tourist busses. Looking around at all the new things and people isn’t a ‘social norm’. I need to put on my game face when I ride the bus…which I guess is supposed to look like I’m going to funeral-muy serio.

2. Reggueton really is a huge part of culture. And so are telenovelas (soap operas). One or the other or both are always on at the house.

3. I think clocks are just for decoration. I’ve seen 4 or 5 clocks that aren’t working or say the wrong time. It’s confusing for me because I never know what time it is…but maybe that’s ok.

4. The whole ‘being late’ stereotype? Haven’t seen that yet. But I have seen carpet…IN MY ROOM!!!

5. POP’S ice cream is still amazing.

6. Pigeons eat corn…weird.

Answers...anyone?

So I was thinking tonight about some random questions that I'd like answers to.

1. Can narcoleptics testify in court? What if they fall asleep while they are testifying? If they are the only witness they would have to testify, but are they really dependable being that they can just randomly go to sleep?

2. If you have sweaty feet and they smell bad all the time, could you tatoo the bottom of your feet to stop the sweat glands? Same with the armpits?

that's all for the night.

One week and counting

I leave in a week...some random thoughts:

Things I'll miss:

Throwing snowballs at people
Soft toilet paper
Talking about picking Tulips
P&W
My car
Steak night...meat in general
Carpet
English

Things I wont miss:

Scaping my car windows
Caf food
The lovely Iowa aroma
Chapel
Monsma's Puns
Pranks...getting my clothes put inside-out
The cold and the snow...then the rain and mush

Author's Note

Being that this is my first blog entry in the entire expanse of my life, I thought I should say something rather profound in addition to the genius thoughts in my head. However, I fear that the words profound and genius will not align with people’s idea of what I have to say. And I’m ok with that.

I am now done with college as I know it, and am preparing for something I really have no clue about—student life in Latin America. People tell me I should be excited, and I am, but its like having someone tell you to be excited about heaven. You know it will be great and people always say great things about it, but you’ve never been there, so you don’t quite understand how or what to be excited about. And you have to leave some really sweet people on earth when you go to heaven. Same thing with Costa Rica. I know it will be great and I’ll learn a ton and be stretched. But I still don’t know the details, so it’s hard to know exactly what to think. So that’s a small piece of how I feel.

But until the 9th, when I make rice and beans my new favorite food, I’ll be packing in the chocolate and Christmas cookies, along with home-cooked meals and meat. Feliz Navidad.