OK honestly, I apologize profusely for not having blogged sooner. At this point, I really don’t even feel like an official blogger anymore. I feel more like a half-baked writer with no excuse for not having written for so long.
I mean, I do kindof have an excuse, because my last computer did crash. . . And we really didn’t have functioning internet until a few weeks ago. So I do deserve a little bit of slack, though I admit it is unacceptable to be experiencing the kinds things that I am without documenting them. Despite wanting to be a journalist in my next stage of life, I have found that I oddly don’t enjoy journaling that frequently. How peculiar of me, but that is that.
In Panama City, while Mary (my travel buddy--reinas de Panama!) and I suffocated in our non-air conditioned hostel in 36 degree weather (yes, I am using Celsius now, and you should too. Really, it is little things like not knowing how hot it will be in San Jose the coming week because the newscast did not translate into Fahrenheit that makes me ashamed to be an American) and waited until ten to go out and be like the other crazy latinos, I was lying on my bed and thinking that I actually was looking forward to the 16 hour bus ride home. I told this to Mary, and she looked at me like either the heat or the cockroach we had recently massacred had affected me too much. But the sad part is, it was true--I was literally, in that moment--and not just because I could have filled an aquarium with the amount of sweat I produced--anticipating the moment when I could sit on the air-conditioned bus and just, do nothing.
Or rather, reflect while doing nothing productive. This was something I learned about myself that I did not realize until spending a total of 38 hours on a bus: that I like to reflect. I like to look out of windows at rolling tropical countryside and think about everything that happened to me in the last few days and analyze how it affected me, what my strengths and weaknesses were in traveling, what I look forward to upon returning home and what I am going to miss from our stay. I reflect on the people we met, why they act the way they do and why things are the way they are, why Panama is so Americanized and why it had to be the United States (of course) to instigate the Canal, how people react to it and what I would think in their place. I love to think about all of this and more. (Remember, though--the keyword here is think. Writing about the experience is a whole different animal, so I have to be in the right mood to type it all out. Hence, a lack of blog posts for a while).
Alright, I know this is a short one and I really owe a bit more to the good name of costaricanchowder.blogspot.com, but I need to go to bed. Sick for the fourth time in two months--apparently, my immune system really hates Central American air. But have faith, I’ll prove to my withering body yet that being exposed to tropical bacteria is healthy in the long run.
Hasta entonces, pura vida!
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