"Slow down everyone You're moving too fast; frames can't catch you when you're moving like that."

In case you missed the subject line, it reads, "Slow down everyone, you're moving too fast. Frames can't catch you when you're moving like that." Jack Johnson is a brilliant man - and an incredible singer, for that matter. Anyway, these lyrics sort of encapsulate how I'm feeling right now. I just came back from a whirl-wind 12-day trip, but in the middle of the craziness of Managua and Granada, I experienced a repose I have yet experienced in all of my time here in Costa Rica. I knew that in Nicaragua, we would have more time to just, well, to just be. I guess now that I have actually experienced it, the difference between the two experiences are that much apparent to me.

To be honest, I've had a little difficulty readjusting to living in San Jose. I know I was only away for 12 days, but it felt like much longer. The other day, it was the strangest thing to me to have a warm shower (it was actually too hot - nearly scalding). And as silly as it sounds, it feels weird to have simple things like my computer... or a real toilet for that matter. In Nicaragua, especially with my host family, I let go all of my notions of normality and did my best to assimilate myself into their lives. What I was used to or wanted was not important. Of course, it was in the back of my mind, but I was more than happy to leave some of my unnecessary standards behind.

One of the things I learned to appreciate, more than anything, was time. For the past year or two, I've really been trying to live one day at a time. Ask anyone of my friends and they'll tell you that's what I continually tell them (and myself). The more intentional I was about living in the present, the more I was able to relish and appreciate the day. I went about the day from conversation to conversation - that's pretty much all we did. I mean, we sat around a lot, played cards (I taught them how to play 'War' and they LOVED it), ate all meals together, and went to church (los cultos). In those times, especially when sitting around doing nothing, we talked. We conversed, opened our hearts and minds to one another and it was one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

Since being in Costa Rica, one of my biggest struggles has been the language barrier (an obvious one, I know, living in a Spanish-speaking country). It takes a lot for me to talk because I always feel like what I am going to say is wrong, so why bother? But a week or two prior to Nicaragua, I tried to get rid of that notion and just spoke as much as I could. How can you get from Point A to Point B if you never walk forward, one step at a time? Once I arrived in Nicaragua, I was terrified at the thought of a 6-day home stay in el campo (the country... kind of). I had been with my English-speaking peers and professors for 4 days and had not spoken a lick of Spanish. I just did not know how it would go.

Once we arrived (3 other girls, Abby, Deidre, and Kacie, and I) to Cuatro Esquinas (the town name) and met the four women that would be our host moms, we sat down in the church (a small concrete-block building) and had some Coca-Cola. I really didn't know how the heck I was going to articulate my thoughts or communicate much of anything, but once I met my mom, Marina (Mari), I had such a sense of peace. The minute I saw her welcoming us from right outside of the church, even before I knew her name or that she would be my host mom, I honestly just prayed for her to be my mom. I know it's silly, but I just had a different sense about her.

I may not have understood everything that my host dad, Marvin, had to say about the corrupt government and the poor economy, or all of the things Mari said to neighbors, but I know I felt a connection with them that I have yet to feel with anyone here in Costa Rica. And I think that connection, the ability to have such a profound and substantial understanding of one another, can be attributed to the fact that we had time.

They had time to listen to me stumble over my ill-chosen vocabulary words and incorrectly conjugated verbs. They had time to correct me and help me understand the different things I was doing slightly wrong. We had time to rephrase complicated (and often just simple) ideas in ways that I actually understood (more or less). I had time to get to know their lives, their hearts, and in turn, they reciprocated the willingness to listen and try to understand my life and my heart. I can only pray I have the opportunity to experience that here.

Costa Rica, especially San Jose, is very similar to the US. There's a plethora of US goods and other similar and familiar things for purchase. I see people walking around in American Eagle or Hollister shirts and wonder why I am seeing these brands here in Costa Rica. Good ol' commercialism. Here, they talk faster, and even drive faster. I feel more pressure to perform better in my conversations when, really, I just don't have the capacity, not yet any way. So, rather than be the stupid American girl who can't speak correctly when everyone else can fluently speak Spanish, I am quiet. This especially applies to groups bigger than.. 3 (especially when everyone likes to talk loudly). Here, I feel a lot more awkward than when I was in Nicaragua, which is strange because this culture is a lot more familiar to mine than the Nicaraguans' culture is. Here, gringos are more common and the culture is simply more American-friendly. In Nicaragua, however, you definitely stand out a bit more... and yet, I felt more at home there, sitting in a 20x15 shack talking about Nicaraguan politics (I don't even know much about American politics). It is strange how much more at home I feel in such a foreign place.

All of this is not to say that I don't feel at home here in Costa Rica. Last night, I was able to spend some more time with my brother, Esteban, and his friends. Granted, we didn't come home until 4:30am, I was really glad that I had the opportunity to get out of the house and experience a little more of his life (and I have no idea where my other brother, Edgar, was - they kept mentioning something about 'la playa'.. the beach.) It's an extraordinary thing that this family, the Miranda-Narvarros, have opened their home to me, have provided me with my own room, and have welcomed me into their family as one of their own daughters. It is a humbling and wonderful experience, though, of course, there are always awkward, 'what should I do' moments.

I do wish time would slow down, just a bit. I want to cherish this experience, especially with my Costa Rican family, but maybe the closeness I desire isn't to be. Maybe I was only supposed to have that special connection with my Nicaraguan family. It wouldn't be special, now would it be, if I had it with every set of host parents or siblings I lived with?

We just gotta take some time to stop and smell the roses.