I feel abysmally distant from that 7-year-old baton twirler who sang about Juan Santamaría’s “vengeful torch” lighting up a roaring fire and “flying for the homeland, smiling, towards death.”
Our rental-car GPS started speaking in that cryptic language from the outskirts of reason: the U.S. system of measurement. In this week's "Please Send Coffee!" column, Raquel Chanto explores the confusing process of adjusting to her adopted country's non-metric quirks.
While it should be obvious by now that I am not an expert on dating, in any language, I have nonetheless learned a thing or two about romantic idiosyncrasies. Even with some level of convergence, dating in Costa Rica and the United States is a game with slightly different rules.
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.
Costa Rican Foreign Minister Manuel Tovar expressed concern Thursday over the “significant presence of Russian military personnel” in Nicaragua, during an interview in Paris...
