Happy Thanksgiving

Me and My Brother Matt


I’m teaching Costa Ricans how to talk like me. I’m paid six dollars an hour and I live in a vacant classroom with my brother, he’s also a teacher. In our room there’s a whiteboard that we use to conjugate verbs. We did have a pull-down map of the world, but a social studies teacher took it from us.

Our school is in Heredia, a town located in the Central Valley of Costa Rica. The climate here is comfortable. Not too hot or humid. It can be boring at times, but for now it’s a good place to hang-out and practice Spanish. The jungle can wait.

Twice a week we have Spanish lessons with a chill teacher named Ronny. Our progress is slow, but I think we’re almost ready to initiate conversations with attractive chicas. Sure, the conquest of Central America by the Spaniards wiped-out entire civilizations and destroyed indigenous ways of ways of living, but at least the mixing of these cultures created lots of beautiful women.

The food here is pretty basic: meat with rice and beans. Yesterday we ate pig feet. It was good, but a little boney (kind of like me). We eat most our meals in the cafeteria at the local university. Soon we plan to move out of the classroom and into our own spot. Then we can start cooking our own meals.

Our drinking has definitely gone down since we left San Francisco. During the week we drink beer in glasses with ice at these tavern-type places called cantinas. They're full of old men and haggard prostitutes. Our favorite cantina has a jukebox: the current jam is “Making Love out of Nothing at all” by AirSupply.

On Saturdays we hang-out with an old guy named Don Toni and drink cacique, a cheap liquor made from molasses. Don Toni is the owner of the school. He has a healthy mustache and kind of looks like a bear. He’s always telling me that “He’s going to cut my long legs with his machete,” and refers to me as his, “Gay-Nicaraguan-Gringo.” He’s probably the best friend I have down here.

In conclusion, Happy Thanksgiving.