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.
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.
The first thing I felt upon arriving in New Jersey was loneliness. Of course, that’s a common feature of the expat experience anywhere, but being Costa Rican is a particularly gregarious phenomenon.
In front of thousands of internet followers, the so-called "lord of native fruits" describes flavors, textures, and possible uses of rare specimens. Gian Paolo...
