Learning from people from so many different backgrounds, from their knowledge and ignorance, is more valuable than any degree; it opens your mind to a different world.
Few aspects of life are as fraught with contradictions in Latin America as sexuality. Our culture is simultaneously filled with sensual stimulus and religious censure. We spin in a whirlwind of seduction and shame, of pleasure and guilt.
Like many Costa Ricans, I’m a bit of a clean freak. This extends from the constant showering and brushing of teeth to the curious sleep disorder I experience when I know that there are dirty dishes on the sink. I was concerned that this might pose a challenge in having a roommate. I was concerned that others might not understand my strong and healthy relationship with Lysol.
I belong to the last generation of Ticos who grew up under the import substitution model and the first to experience the opening up of the economy. As a consequence, some of my childhood memories seem uncharacteristically old: They in fact belong to a different time period in Costa Rican history.
On the whole, Ticos could benefit from attributing less to chance and more to human behavior. But I hope we never lose awareness of the myriad things outside our power.
My first winter here implied a very steep learning curve. If there are any readers out there who have not lived through January or February beyond, say, the 35th parallel, please beware: Winter is kind of evil.
