Más comida tica

4/10-4/12

Saturday:

Saturday was a basic day. Once again, I spent quality time with my computer, but this time I had an assortment of nuts to stave off both my hunger and my protein cravings! I went to PriceSmart with my tica mom to get nuts at a better price. We have those, right? It was just like Costco, but, sadly, no Kirkland (or Kir lan, the fancier version of the same product all thanks to Sharpies) in sight. *I* thought that the nuts were really expensive, though wasn’t surprised, and my tica mom was surprised that there were even that many nuts, and that I knew their names. Apparently, I’ve just been missing the big picture about how expensive nuts actually are, and I didn’t pay all that much more than is normal in California. Darn I have an expensive habit, but I guess it’s still cheaper than alcohol ;)

Anywho, good stuff. Nuts here are not ‘nueces’, as I learned in school, but generally grouped under the title ‘semillas’, seeds. ‘Nueces’ is ‘walnuts’. Cranberries are ‘arándanos’, but so are blueberries. And there is no general term for ‘berry’ that I can pry out of the locals. There was a newspaper article on the benefits of the antioxidants in arándanos earlier in the year, and I asked my tica mom what that word meant only to have her look at me as if I were nuts (hah, couldn’t help it). Later, the article clarified it as blueberries, but here is a package of cranberries that is also calling itself arándanos… Whatever, they taste wonderful with walnuts, and now my tica mom can say she tried arándanos after all.


Sunday:

On Sunday, I learned two things about computer systems in Costa Rica. 1.) my Internet works after 11 PM, probably because everyone has gone to bed by then, and 2.) it is entirely normal for the banks to shut down and/or run out of money.
I was not so pleased to learn about the banks, as I had been misinformed and gotten up suuuuper early for the feria (so early that my tica mom got up to tell me when she heard me up, then when back to bed), and then learned by going to every nearby bank on the way as her son tried to take out money. I think two ATM machines were just out of money, and the rest were all undergoing some sort of system shutdown/update. They finally decided just to drop him back home (though I offered to lend him money, I knew he could pay me back and it seemed silly just to give up after all that time…) and have him go later with one of my tica sisters. Yup, family dynamics and banks confuse me.

I bought a ‘guaba’ just so I could take a picture of it, it’s pretty awesome. I also bought way too much fruit, but buying it anywhere else is too expensive to take the risk of NOT buying it, right?
That night, I got very, very sick, and I’d like to blame it on too much salt and oil in my food, but deep down I know it was that mango I ate, skin and all.


Monday:

I was still nauseated on Monday morning, and I had barely gotten to sleep around 2 am. While that was once a normal bedtime for me here, it certainly is not anymore. This was the first day I got truly borderline snappy with my tica mom, as my pent-up anger about eating salty and greasy foods was released. I have been drinking water like a fish and still feeling dehydrated, and I’m guessing it’s the salt, but that wasn’t concrete enough for my tica mom to listen to my pleas for less oil and salt. She has a hard time understanding that I do like the taste of some things, such as salt, oil, or butter, but don’t always want to eat it. My asking her to use less butter and oil the first time resulted in her telling me she uses margarine, and then with further explanation deciding that I hate margarine. I figured I had some solid proof (my stomach rejecting food) that I could just use less of such substances, but she brushed me off during this conversation as well, telling me that she barely used any.

Anyone I talked to that day must have picked up the vibe that I was ticked, and I definitely know my poor real mother got an earful (sorry about that, thank you for always letting me flavor my own food!!!!), but sometimes such things happen when a person is sick, tired and fighting pent-up feelings.

Thankfully, that night I made a wonderful decision. I decided that I wouldn’t go to choir (a pretty rational decision, considering) and that I would go to the beginning yoga class that night. That night was the day of ‘perdón’ on the Mayan calendar, so we focused the whole lesson on compassion and forgiveness. Right when the instructor said that, I felt a ripple of shock and an instant change in my attitude.

Yes, I was miserable and tired all day, and I have been frustrated off and on for the last two and a half months about the lack of control over what I eat, but that wasn’t something my tica mom was trying to DO to me, it was something I was letting her make me feel. I KNOW that she isn’t out to get me, and that she means well, and that on top of all that I’m a peculiar eater (I’ll eat only salads all day but then still eat horrible, packaged cookies and chocolate…I just like my food to be honest with me, and have my vegetables be healthy and my desserts unhealthy). So, I took a breath, and I did some yoga, and I sweat it out.

Funny thing is, I was really at peace with things when my tica mom really started to make an effort. She explained to me how she hadn’t put salt in my sauce at lunch, and how the salad only had salt on it because she had made it that morning. She laughed at me eating my salad without anything for dressing and I thanked her for leaving it neutral for me. We both think the other is a bit of a kook, but I think we’re both gaining something out of the experience.

Oh, and happy Juan Santamaría day! April 11th, 1856 was the day that a brave young man, Juan Santamaría, lit fire to an enemy building to secure a victory in battle against William Walker’s troops (he was the crazy guy from the US who named himself as ruler of Nicaragua and attempted to conquer the rest of Central America). He died in battle, yet was, and still is, honored as Costa Rica’s very own hero (working class, modest kind of guy, perfect to be an inspiring hero for the majority of Costa Rica). Strangely enough, Nicaragua claims he is from Nicaragua just as much as Costa Rica claims he is from Costa Rica. Many of the high schoolers got Monday off, since the national holiday fell on a weekend. Thankfully, we learned about this in the immersion program’s history class, as my tica mom tried to explain it but didn’t quite make the cut (since she knows about as much of Costa Rica’s history as I know of the United State’s history, but I CERTAINLY wasn’t going to try to help her out or correct her there…her grandson (the 12-year-old) didn’t try, either, but I had the feeling he knew). And know you, too, know the story.