el dia primero en Costa Rica

Travel day went exceedingly smoothly, except for the lack of sleep. My flight left O'hare at 3:10AM and landed in Guatemala at 6:55. As my connecting flight taxied down the runway in Guatemala, I was stricken by the poverty of the country as reflected in the airport infrastructure: the causeways were bumpy and riddled with potholes, while the aircraft hangers were essentially tin sheds connected by crumbling asphalt paths. The countryside of Guatemala, of course, was comprised of beautiful mountains, volcanoes, rivers and valleys... and sinkholes. After take-off, the spread and lay of the impoverished cities below, across the rugged and unforgiving terrain, awakened in me a compassion towards the many in this region of the world who lack the great sense of day-to-day comfort, security, and safety that I generally expect to have at home.

In addition to the in-your-face economic condition of Guatemala, the second leg of my flight to Costa Rica bluntly introduced me to some proverbial "ignorant Americans", since two of them were seated next to me. Ingloriously tattooed, red, and leathery skin inadequately shielded from my eyes by cut-off t-shirts; an unpleasant smell of perfume, cologne (too much, of course), and who-knows what else; a hacking cough and incessant snorting that could have led me to swear the couple had Tuberculosis; loads of money to blow on whatever seemed fun to them-- all of these factors contributed to the immediate, less-than-positive impression these two conveyed. Although externalities such as these should certainly not serve as the basis of one's judgement of a person, the case was solidly closed by this couple's rude remarks to flight attendants (!!!) and also by an incident at the end of the flight, when they grabbed their luggage and said, "ok, as soon as the [seatbelt] light goes off... ready? ready? NOW!!" and they dashed to the front of the plane so as to not have to wait on anyone else. Personally, I was thankful for the resulting distance between myself and them, and in retrospect, they served as a powerful reminder of the necessity of being ever-cautious of one's impression on others, especially when representing (often by default) a particular group (Americans abroad or Reagan Fellows on campus). I shudder to think of how many respectful American volunteers would be needed to clean up the path of destruction blazed by this singularly inconsiderate couple.

Speaking of American volunteers, however, I met a slew of great ones today in San Jose, beginning with J.J., who is on staff with Engineering World Health and is in charge of operations in Costa Rica and Nicaragua (the coordinator for Honduras, Julien, will be arriving shortly before the second month). As the day wore on (quite slowly for he who had no more than an hour of sleep  the previous night), more and more student volunteers arrived from Duke University, elsewhere in the U.S, and around the world. We then proceeded to the Academia Latinoamericana de Español, where we met our host-mothers and went with them to our new homes. My host mother is Flory, who with her family that includes her husband, daughter, and several grandsons, is providing me with breakfast, dinner, laundry & internet access, constant Spanish practice, and nurturing. Hosting an impressive EIGHT male Engineering World Health volunteers, Flory's house has earned the nickname "the frat".

I  bought a two-liter bottle of mango juice today for about $2. Once consumed, the container will become my water-bottle. I thought everyone should know that.