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Anchors Away

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Day 104
My last day in Costa Rica. My last day in a foreign country for my Semester At Sea experience. (Panama doesn't count.) I keep thinking it will be summer when I get home. Repeatedly, I have started to say, “When I get home this summer....” Nope. Wrong. It will be winter. Frigid winter. 

Oh, it is beautiful here. I am going to recover today by laying on the beach. The weird thing is there are very few people out today. It's not like Waikiki. The sand here is different. There are much more minerals in it, making it darker.

I found a spot on the beach near some other people and the lawn chairs that you can rent. I'm cheap, so I didn't rent one. I just spread my Brazilian sarong out on the scorching sand, and I lay down with my book.

After a few minutes, a guy came up and asked me about my tattoo. He was a little surprised that I could speak spanish. He asked me how much it cost and if I had any more. I wish I knew more about the tattoo culture in Costa Rica. I only know that in Malaysia tattoos are very taboo. Usually only gang members have them. After a while the guy left. He seemed disappointed that I had only one.

It was about another quarter of an hour before Wilbur showed up. He made me go into the water. It was too hot, but I didn't want to be hot and sticky from the salt water. After we got out we walked on down the beach and ran into a couple of his friends. They were friendly, as most Costa Ricans are in my experience. They played fútbol and guitar. They talked to me about America a little bit. 

Then a clown walked over. Yes, a clown. He had a painted face, big red nose and oversized, colorful clothing. He immediately recognized me as an American. (That seems to be a skill everyone everywhere in the world has.) He started speaking to me in spanish, but he spoke too quickly for me to understand. So I looked at Wil for an explanation. That's when this clown went off on how Americans expect everyone to speak and understand English in their country, but then they go to other places and don't speak their languages. 

I could understand his complaints because I could catch bits and pieces, but I was too shocked to retaliate or explain myself. I'm sorry I don't have a firm enough grasp of spanish to understand everything said in a spanish-speaking country. I'm trying.

Soon we walked back down the beach towards the ship, my precious MV Explorer. I wasn't ready for this trip to be over. I sat on the beach watching SASers trickle by me and get into the ever-lengthening line. 
I wish there were words for my feelings. So many feelings: the grime of Salvador, the awe of Iguacu Falls, the surpassed expectations of Namibia, the adventure of South Africa, the...well, assault of senses in India, the heat of Malaysia, the juxtaposition of paradise and pain in Vietnam, the consumption of Hong Kong, the confusion of China, the perfection of Japan, the pleasure of being in your home country to celebrate a national holiday, the relaxation of Costa Rica. But what about the tightness in my stomach when I think of this being over? I can never come back to this voyage, with these people and experiences, the lessons I've learned, the things I've seen. My life has been changed is ways that I'll never be able to describe, so I hope this blog has at least given some insight into all my feelings. 

Now, off to my next adventure.
                                           
                
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