Rain and Paparazzi

I love waking up to rain. The pit patter of the rain is rhythmic, the darkness from the clouds is peaceful, and the smell is wonderful. Your bed automatically feels more comfy on these mornings as well. I slept in all the way to 7am before getting up yesterday! The rain even let up so I did not get drenched on my walk to the station. I’m glad I did get up to have breakfast with my police comrades as one of the female officers, Berta, is cooking this week. She treated us to some fried eggs, fried plantains, and good gallo pinto and coffee, of course. When I got back to our apartment, I thought about going on a run in the cooler weather, but it started to rain again, and I mean downpour. So, I used the rainy morning as I have so often wished I could use a rainy morning-to lounge around and read. I finished the rest of “The Giver,” which I am glad I re-read, for a little read, it is a really powerful book.

I finished reading just in time for the rain to pause and have a yummy lunch of rice and beans and some carrots and potatoes I stole out of the beef stew. I also freaked out for a second during lunch when I heard “Missouri” come out of the T.V. in a funny Spanish accent as the news reported the results of the most recent Republican Presidential Primary results during international news.

After lunch I went into town. Today was the first day of school, and here, one can look right into the classrooms of the elementary and high school, which are all in the same area, as there are no actual glass windows in the buildings only bars. Students here are easily identifiable as uniforms are required. Many of the younger students in their oversized uniforms were so cute. I walked around a bit more and then went to the gym which turned out to be an eventful trip. First, I’m glad I decided to go to the gym as the rain was on and off all day and had some strong downpours once more. The gym that I go to is on the upper level of a shopping area and is very open with a large plastic sunroof. It’s a pretty neat place which a large wall-mural currently in progress, which you can see photos of in my photo post from yesterday. When it rained while I was biking in this area, it was one of the weirdest sensations. The noise on the roof was so loud, I felt like I was inside one of those classic big wooden rain sticks that we all annoyed are parents with at some point. You could even hear the rain starting at one end and making its way across in that whooshing motion of the stick as some patches of rain past over.

The rain was not the only odd occurrence during my ride. Two young teenage boys walking around town selling tomatoes took shelter in the gym and decided to come up to the bicycle area. I knew immediately they were coming my way when they spotted me. I could also hear the giggle as they called me a “pretty girl.” Through the loud rain and my disinterest I did not hear all they had to say to me; however, I couldn’t escape all their attention. One asked me where I was from followed by the question, “Where is your husband? In the U.S.?”

Although I knew they were harmless, I went along with his assumption and said “Yes, he is.”

The other boy then went on to ask me if I had kids, and seemed surprised when I said no. At this point, one of the boys took his cell phone out of a protective plastic bag and took a photo of me sweating on my bike. I asked what he was doing, and he said, “Nothing” while laughing.

 The second boy followed suit right after with his cell phone. Guess I know what it feels like when Anne Hathaway goes to the gym- dang paparazzi. Andy Warhol is right, we’re all famous for at least 10 seconds, even if to just two annoying Costa Rican boys.    

After more immature conversation between the two boys, I had to see how old they were. They insisted I must disclose my age first.

“How old do you think I am?” I asked in Spanish, of course.

“28,” blurted the first boy.

“Younger,” I laughed.

“23,” the second boy said more confidently.

Although I’m not sure why, I lied and concurred with this guess. Perhaps I thought they would feel a little less empowered to harass me more if I were two years older and more likely to not realize that my first lie about having a husband was indeed not true.

“Your turn,” I reminded them.

They then told me that they were 14 and 13 years old respectively.

Soon after this, I was approached by a guy more around my age who had been a few bikes down from me and had watched our interactions and looked as though he were coming to save the day. Although I’m not entirely sure what he was saying, I could make out that he was asking me what I was doing for exercise. Although I thought it was obvious (I mean I’m sitting on a stationary bike pedaling, what do you think I’m doing?), I tried to answer. He then asked if I was only going to bike, and explained that there was more to do in the gym other than the bike. Apparently, sitting on a bike for an hour is not something many people do at the gym, and I have noticed people carrying around a paper of some sort of planned exercises where they change their type of exercise frequently. Nonetheless, I’m happy simply riding my mechanical bike and hoping on the treadmill and leaving the gym soaking wet in my own sweat (not that I’m complaining about the wonderful warm weather here).

Finally, over the past few days, I’ve really come to the realization of the old cliché of how it is “important to take time to enjoy the simple things in life.” On Tuesday, I went for a run and stopped at the track where an old man was weed-eating the soccer field in the middle. I noticed that the man had stopped to fix something on his tool, and then paused for a second to take in the incredible view of the Volcano looming nearby. I realized that I had not taken the time to really appreciate this amazing sight and yet this man, who has seen it every day for the past who knows how many years, was. It’s so easy to get caught up in what we are doing, especially when we are as busy as we are. I know this past semester of school, I had to remind myself to breath, and really every semester because I’m the type of person that yearns to be busy. Thus, having more free time than I know what to do with down here, I’m really enjoying those little things like a fun book, the endorphins of a run, a good song (especially now that I’m slightly deprived of that as my old faithful beat-up Zune finally decided to croak), a good conversation with an old friend or loved one and how special a strong relationship is, meeting a new person, a smile and salutation from the nice stranger walking by on the sidewalk, the smell of fresh rain, the warmth of good coffee, a great movie (even with bad Spanish voice over’s), a good apple, watching the growth of the adorable puppies next door over a span of just 2 weeks, the hum of a humming bird flying by, the ability to take the time to write my thoughts in a blog, and even the enjoyment of comparing the variety and similarities in stereotypical tourist clothing as the tourists busses make their stops in town.  Just like the floating bag in the great film “American Beauty,” the small things in life are really some of the most beautiful, don’t forget to enjoy them.

And I know I’ve said this before, but I absolutely hate mosquitoes. Think I’ve surpassed the 20-point mark on number of bites on me. Guess I just need to start bathing myself in Repel every day.