Pura Vida

Dear Drunk Latino on Local Bus,

   Thanks for giving me and my friend a proper welcome to Costa Rica. We truly appreciate your kindness and the stench of alcohol emanating from your mouth as you proceeded to ask me my name three separate times. You truly are a winner, what with your dashing good looks and classy-looking bald head with the only hair visible being that which outlined your hairline. Please don't take offense that I didn't tell you the name of the hotel we were staying at although you asked me repeatedly as I preferred not to get kidnapped/murdered/stalked in a foreign land.

Salud,
   Monica

Drunk men on buses and whistling/cat-calling aside (which happens in Costa Rica to anything that walks on 2 legs and has boobs), Costa Rica was freakin' awesome. My first time in Latin America and hopefully, not my last. We arrived in San Jose, traveled by bus four hours to the Pacific coast in the city of Quepos. Then we headed to our hotel in Manuel Antonio, directly on the beach. The landscape was beautiful, the food delicious,the people so friendly and the beaches gorgeous. We spent a lot of time on the beach, riding the waves and hiking the rainforests. My buddy Dorothy and I decided to be our goofy selves and made a parody of the show 'Lost' with my crappy digital camera. It was a perfect setting: rainforests sitting directly behind the beaches.

As is our usual habit, we did get hit on by underage boys, at least this time it was in a language other than English. P.S. had a blast getting the chance to use my wannabe-fluent spanish skills. But back to underage hotties (just kidding, not hot at all, pretty gross actually), some boys who looked like they were probably 14 years old kept commenting on our "prettiness" and asked us how old we were. I told them we were too old for them, that we were 25. Looks of surprise graced their faces as I asked one of the boys how old he was. He replied in an exaggerated, drawn-out voice as though he were making it up off the top of his head "dieci. . . . nueve." 19 years old? Total BS. Boy, I could be your mother . . . if I had gotten pregnant when I was 6 years old. . . He asked me my name, I told him I didn't have a name and said "adios." 

Nothing too crazy happened. Happy hour took place everyday and it was pretty happy and slightly dizzying. . .people in Latin America love their drinks super strong. So a typical day involved waking up early with the sun, spending the morning at the bonita beach, going into town for lunch, headed back out for some more fun in the sun or hiking in the rainforests, out for dinner, a drink or 2, an amusing walk back to the hotel, followed by watching movies while sprawled out on our beds, pass out, repeat. Pura vida, indeed.