I figured I would update this blog - to further avoid finishing my Spanish homework (researching the CAJA Seguro Social, rather, the Costa Rican social security system). I also figured that I didn't have to just do deep and profound entries - I could update it with silly thoughts, like this one.
Costa Rican men are momma's boys... at least my older brother's are. For those of you who don't know, my parents are an older couple; my mom is 64 and my dad is 70. In other words, they know what they are doing. I also have 4 siblings, 3 brothers and 1 sister (who I never see). Mauricio is married and has two girls, Raquel (14) and Camila (8). Edgar is 42 and has a son, Jose Daniel (16), but he has been divorced for a year and a half. And then there is Esteban who is 27 and, well, is your typical 27-year-old man.
I was a bit surprised to find out that all of my siblings but Mauricio lives at home - still. I can understand Edgar's situation because he's divorced (well, for a while now...). You would think, though, by 27, you would want out of the house - not to stay in it. Elisa has her own little apartment-like room downstairs, so that's a bit different, but I think it's kind of funny how much like teenagers these boys (sorry, I meant men) act.
Now, I don't mean to belittle my family at all - I love them dearly! In fact, I love having older brothers since I have never had one in my life. I have an older sister and a younger brother, but I've never had an older male figure in my life other than my father, grandfathers, or uncles. I love how personable Edgar is - when he comes home from work at the bank, he greets everyone with a kiss on the cheek - and how suave Esteban tries to be. I have only been with Mauricio a few times, but I can tell that he is a kind and gentle man, simply by the way we interacted those few times (having two girls of his own probably helps a lot).
Last week, my mom and I were sitting at the dining room table. She was working on some craft and I was doing my homework. In comes Edgar nearly whining about something ("Mamiiiii, *enter Spanish banter here*") and he proceeds to walk over to Mami (as I, too, call her) and she starts to scratch his back. I guess he had an itch he couldn't quite reach. And this morning, I noticed my mom packing a lunch bag. I never get an actual bag, so I was thinking she was packing lunch for me a bit differently - but no, the lunch box (and lunch inside) was for Edgar to take to work. I think it's adorable just how much my mom, Isabel, cares for her boys, even though they are men.
Esteban seems to be a bit more social... I never see him around and even if I do, he's shortly on his way out of the door - probably to see his lady friend, Carla. He speaks a little bit of English, so some times he'll slip in a phrase or a word here and there, like "Good job!" in his accented English. He is an engineer, my mom told me, a computer technician of some sort. And some days, he can work from home. I was getting ready for classes that day and I remember him going downstairs to the office (where the computer is) and assumed he went down to work for a bit. When I went to say goodbye to him on the way out, he was playing some computer game. I think I said something to the effect of, "Oh, you look extremely busy there, Esteban," and he smiled and said, "Si! Working hard." He's got a sense of humor, too.
(update: 9/9/2009: I think I heard Esteban call out to Edgar, " 'ey, gordo! *enter Spanish-ranting here*." If you don't know what it means, look it up. It amused me greatly.)
All in all, I love my family. It is interesting to see the different dynamics, too. The other night I came home from San Jose after classes, and I walked into a house full of people! Everyone was here, all of my siblings: Mauricio, Edgar, Elisa, and Esteban - and a friend of theirs, Gabi, from church. And of course, Mami and Papi were there, too. Mami was busy making empenadas de queso and frijoles (cheese and/or beans... and believe me, they are delicioso). There was so much going on! Food-eating, coffee-drinking, Spanish-speaking... oy vay! I was overwhelmed, to say in the least. I just stayed in the kitchen helping my mom because at least I could do that. I can talk one on one with someone in Spanish, but forget about trying to jump in on a conversation with native Spanish-speakers.
After a while, you do begin to feel inadequate and a bit stupid. You feel like a failure because you just sit there. I mean, if I am here studying in Costa Rica, you would think I would know the language, right? At least enough to converse, yeah? I should have reviewed more because there seems to be a HUGE mental block preventing me from remembering how to speak, so right now, I am a 21-year-old with the vocabulary of a 3-year-old (and even that is a stretch. I know some 3-year-olds that could speak their way out of town and leave me in their dust).
Continually, I keep Mami up-to-date about where I am at mentally, physically, and spiritually. Tonight I explained to her that there is just too much going on: too many people, too much noise, too much thinking, too much information - just too much of everything. I told her that all of these things me abruman , that they overwhelm me and I just want to run away, revert into myself because that's what I tend to do when things get to be too much. I suppose that telling her all of that, in and of itself, is progress (and a little victory to celebrate).
I am taking it one day at a time - and I am extremely grateful that, in all of this craziness of living in an entirely different country, I can come home to an environment full of love... and smiles.
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