Panama.

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and a very happy New Year!

Yes. This blog post is WAY overdue and I am fully aware of that. I have fewer excuses than I would like, but the excuses that I do have are at least legitimate.

Excuse number one: Internet. That is necessary to upload, well, anything. It is something that I have not had consistent access to in over a month—more on that later.

Excuse number two: Travelling. I really have been bouncing everywhere recently.

Excuse number three: I’ve had more fun things to do. Which is truly my favorite reason. (:

Since my last blog post, so much has happened that I feel I don’t even have any way to dedicate enough of an explanation to each of the happenings, but I’ll do my best.

First happening:

Panama. Due to the Visa system that I have here in Costa Rica, I have to leave the country for at least 4 days every 3 months.  My three months was up by the end of November, and so Krystal, Kenton and I did some research and decided to travel to a little island in Panama called Bocas del Toro.

On November 22^nd Krystal and I travelled to join Kenton in Cartago, and on the 24^th we had the very exciting opportunity to travel alone from one country to another.

While I say very exciting, I also meant terrifying, panic-attack inducing, and all around exhausting. We had woken up at 4 in the morning in order to make it to San Jose early enough to find the correct bus to Panama. As it turns out, the bus station that we needed to be at was in a very, very sketchy part of town—especially before the sun had fully come up. All three of us looked like full-fledged tourists with our luggage for the trip, and we nervously wove through homeless men and women passed out on the street, praying that we would find the right place to be as soon as possible. With the help of a street vendor (who was probably an angel), we found out that the bus didn't leave until 9am, so we were a couple of hours early. We grabbed the nearest taxi and went straight to a McDonalds in a safer part of town to wait it out.

Once the city woke up, it was far less threatening, and we got onto a lovely air-conditioned bus and rode it all the way to the Panama/Costa Rica border.

Leaving Costa Rica was the easy part. Once we had done that, we literally had to WALK across the border between the two countries, which happened to be on this wooden, rotting bridge.

And once we were on the other side, we had NO idea where to go. It turns out we had actually walked so far in the wrong direction that we had illegally entered Panama! Finally, some other tourists who had been on the bus with us pointed us in the right direction, and we found the immigration office.What they had to tell us was not as reassuring as we had hoped it would be.

Turns out, to enter Panama, you have to have proof with you that you don’t intend to STAY in Panama. A bus ticket wouldn't do; no, it had to be proof of a purchased PLANE TICKET to leave Central America within the next year.

Which, thankfully, we had! Right?

Wrong.

The panic set in. Our phones didn’t even work, because we weren’t even in Costa Rica anymore. SO, in the blazing heat, we had to go to this little closet-sized location with a computer from the 80s to try our hardest to find proof of our exit-itinerary. Krystal found hers. Kenton found his. AND then there was me—who had apparently been forgotten, and had never had her exit flight date changed. I only had a ticket out of Costa Rica--for two days previously.

I could not imagine what we could do. I started to have a panic attack, crying, the whole bit. It was rather embarrassing. Regardless, my level-headed man kept everything under control and printed out my missed plane ticket anyways. We then went back to the immigration office.

Krystal? Fine, she could enter.

Kenton? Absolutely! Have a great stay!

And… this blubbering girl with you? What’s wrong with her?

Kenton was kind enough to explain the situation, and the woman on the opposite side of the counter didn’t even look at my plane ticket. She simply asked Kenton one question:

“Ella está su novia?”

“This is your girlfriend?”

Kenton quickly nodded, and the woman laughed and smiled, and stamped my passport. I was free to go into Panama.

Young love triumphs again.

We then shared a taxi-van with 5 other tourists and made our way to the boat taxi station, about 30 minutes away. We then got on our very first boat taxi and made our way to the little island of Bocas del Toro.

It was paradise. Literally. I had such a fantastic time. The first day we were there, we slept in, walked all around the little island town, and found this wonderful 3$ breakfast place (which we faithfully returned to every single day.) 

The second day we went to a beach called Playa Estrella, or Star Fish Beach. It was the most tranquil, beautiful, relaxing beach I have ever had the pleasure of knowing in my entire life. The water was SO clear, that we could see all the way to the bottom even up to 12ft.

We saw starfish on Starfish beach!!

On the way back, we had the misfortune to share a taxi with at least 10 Costa Rican women who all LOVED Kenton. One in particular—literally—would not stop flirting with him. She kept encouraging him to leave me to spend the next day with her, to teach her English privately, to vote for her when she fought me for him. Did I mention she was OLD? Kenton was beyond awkward, and from the backseat where I was, I would respond to her comments in turn. It went somewhat like this:

50+ year old woman: “Mañana, voy a una parque muy linda. Quieres ir conmigo?” or, “Tomorrow, I’m going to this beautiful park. Want to go with me?”

Me: “Lo siento, pero creo que el esta ocupado.” Or, “Sorry, but I think he’s busy.”

Woman: “Amor, puedes ensenarme Ingles? Quiero aprender.” Or, “Love, can you teach me English? I want to learn.”

Me: “Claro, puedo ensenar!” Or, “Sure, I can teach you!”

My responses delighted the other old women in the van, and every time I would speak they would cackle with delight. Here’s a picture of Kenton looking horrified:

The next day, we went to a beach called Red Frog, or playa rana roja. This beach was more typical; it had waves and was a lot bigger than Estrella. 

We played in the waves for a while, and then walked up the beach to find a restaurant because we were hungry. I never could have fathomed that what happened next was possible, but sure enough, sitting on a park bench were at least five of the women from the van the day before. They saw us first, and were unbelieving as well, calling, “…Kenton? En serio?”

Fortunately, the real cougar was out frolicking in the waves, and even as the women started to call her in to behold the spectacle of their precious Kenton returned, we started walking away.

It was a pleasure to run into you, but we were just heading out! Enjoy your time!

Kenton, Krystal and I could not believe that they had actually been on the same beach as us. Regardless, we found a yummy restaurant and had some delicious food:

And then we returned to the beach for a while, just sitting on the sand and relaxing.  Some little kids, hoping for tips, ran up to us and procured a red frog—what the beach was named after.

We didn’t have any money to give them, but we played with them for a while and they seemed content.

We left on the latest possible taxi, and returned to the main island, where we were staying in a cute little hostel called ‘Spanish by the Sea’. It was actually a Spanish-School, which turned out to be PERFECT because they had a strict no-drug, no partying policy. They locked their gate every night at 7, and everyone was SUPER friendly and nice. They even had hammocks available to relax on, which we did whenever they were free.

In short, it was a perfect weekend. The next day we got up early, got on another boat taxi, and made it to the mainland in Panama. We found another van-taxi driver who was so excited that we talked Spanish that he took only us three, and was willing to wait for us as we did a little shopping in this place called Changinola. Kenton and I each got a hammock (SO COMFY) and I got a purse. We then returned to the taxi, and made it back to the border. We crossed the bridge again, re-entered Costa Rica, and…

Had missed our bus back to San Jose.

The always honest and ever helpful taxi drivers insisted that there was another one heading out from Puerto Viejo, and that he’d only charge us each 10$ to drive the whole way! What a deal!

Until his taxi ran out of gas half-way there, he called and there was no bus from Puerto Viejo, and he charged us each 10$ anyways.

I haven’t been so mad in my life.

Anyways, after begrudgingly paying him, we walked across the street in the rain to a little bus stop and made our way to Limon. There, we finally found a bus that would take us to San Jose, and we got back to Cartago safe and sound after hours and hours of travelling and being stressed.

Oh, and it was Thanksgiving day.

Exhausted out of our brains, we threw our luggage down and went out to eat our thanksgiving meal at…

Pizza Hut.

Which was delicious, but not quite our typical Thanksgiving.

And that was the conclusion to our Panamanian adventure.

I know I have lots more to catch up on, but this trip deserved a full blog post that I had been unable to give it until this moment in time. So, subsequent catching up will happen soon, I promise. But in order to avoid over-blogging, I’ll wrap this one up.

Soon to come:

Second Happening: Living in Cartago for a month!

Third Happening: Christmas day and Limon Trip!

Fourth Happening: Returning to MonteVerde!

Stay tuned!

Pura Vida.

With love,

Kayla

Happy as a clam, drinking Chai Tea for the first time in almost 3 months.

I think life isn’t as complicated as we make it out to be. We are constantly looking for answers. But there are no answers, things just happen. The good and the bad. To see the rainbow you’ve got to put up with the rain. It happens, and there is nothing we can do about it. The universe isn’t made up of questions, waiting for us to answer.

Mail is the best thing in the world.

Last week, I got my letter from Student Missions full of notes from my friends at WWU. It made me laugh, and cry, and feel so blessed to have so many people missing, praying, and supporting me from so far away. 

Yesterday I received instant happy in a box. My best friends - Daniel and my two cousins, Ashley and Chelsea - spent endless time, energy, and shipping fees to send Kenton and I a glorious package full of chai tea (picture above!), pumpkin cheesecake cookies, chocolate, chocolate and MORE chocolate, coconut cookies, chocolate chips and Reese's peanut butter chips, some crazy adorable socks, and for specifically for Kenton - a pack of bicycle playing cards.

I had been waiting for this package for over two weeks and raced to the street every time the mail motorcycle arrived at the school. FINALLY, yesterday was the day.

Amidst all of those delicacies which WILL allow me to properly put on my holiday weight (ha!) were three hand-written notes. These were the true treasures.

My cousin Ashley had written a poem that brought me to tears, Chelsea's letter made me laugh so hard that I cried again (see above picture) and ached with missing her, and Daniel gave Kenton and I our celebrity couple name (Kenla Gonzalbrecht. Catchy, no?) and then proceeded to write a sincere and beautiful letter that made me yearn to be together again, laughing, at WWU.

In Daniel's letter, he commented on how Kenton and I had started to dwindle with our blogging posts. I started to wonder about that. Why was that the case?

I was still doing wonderful and adventurous things. Four weeks ago, I traveled to Orotina to the Adventist camp ground location and had a beautiful day with Kenton and Krystal swimming and laughing. Three weeks ago I took an AMAZING chocolate and coffee tour--my first tourist thing here in Costa Rica! Two weeks ago, I went with the kidlets from the school to an INCREDIBLE and luxurious set of volcanic-heated pools in Las Juntas. I had seen monkeys for the first time in the wild there! I was still trying new things, learning as a teacher, and living life here in Costa Rica.

And that was when it struck me: I am starting to live life here.

I have been here for almost three months now, which doesn't sound super impressive, but is 1/3 of my missionary experience (Oy!). People here still go to work every day (like me), still die, still get sick, still break up, still cry, still get into car accidents, still struggle maritally, struggle financially, grow exhausted (like me), cook dinner, go grocery shopping, and move from one house to another. Life is still going on and I have started to, unconsciously, realize that this is my life now. 

For a while, this is my day-to-day grind, and it is difficult and draining and it is still beautiful, but it is no longer as foreign. It is my normal.

I find moments in every day where I have to sit and take a moment just to realize: "I am IN Costa Rica. Right now. I am a student missionary WORKING right now. What am I doing to savor that?" I have to tell myself this because I easily get so caught up in going straight from teaching, to planning dinner, to cooking dinner, to lesson planning, to sleeping, and pressing repeat. I have more than once thought, "When will you EVER again be in this position? Next year, when you're at Walla Walla, how will you ever be so blessed to speak and learn Spanish like this? To serve others? Wake up!"

I have started to realize that life is life no matter where you are. Life is so fleeting and I know that soon, sooner than I expect, I will be home wondering where my time in Costa Rica went. 

So, I will try to be better about writing on my blog. I have definitely found myself a comfortable pattern here, but the school year is ending (this is my last week! I'm putting off writing final tests to do this. LIFE.) and soon Priscilla will be moving. Krystal and I will move to live in the school after Christmas break, and we will get a new principal, and there will be big changes at our cozy little school. My comfortable pattern will be shaken and once again, everything will seem foreign until it becomes 'life' once more.

This IS life. In the quote I posted, there is a simple little sentence that says, "...things just happen." And this is true. I'm learning that.

I apologize if this blog posted ended up incredibly circular. My processing-while-writing tends to do that, but I figured I would crank this one out since, as Daniel noted, it's been a while.

I love you all. If you're reading this and sent me a note, it made me feel so blessed and loved and lonely for Walla Walla. We'll be reunited soon.

Pura Vida. <3

Some pictures from the weekends I had mentioned before: First, the lava pools, second, Orotina (with Kenton), and third, the coffee tour.

(:

Sebas, the 2 year old here at MonteVerde, excited about the butterfly in his hands. He's precious.

These past two weeks have been full. Two weekends ago, on Sunday, Kenton's dad (whom had been visiting Kenton for a week) was generous enough to agree to meet Krystal and I for a day-trip to the beach. We had it all planned out perfectly: Krystal and I would take the 6am bus to Puntarenas, which would get us to the beach around 9:30, and Kenton and Mr. G would pick us up at the station. From there, we would frolic in the sand and surf until late afternoon, when Mr. G would drive us back up the mountain. What could go wrong, right?

Wrong.

As soon as we got even close to Puntarenas, we realized that Priscilla had really played down the 'little airplane show' that was supposed to be happening that day. It appeared that the entire country and their extended relatives were traveling to Puntarenas to see the airplanes. The closer we got, the slower we moved. There were miles and miles of traffic. The bus had no ventilation because the air was not moving, and there were at least 20 people standing in the aisles without seats. We could hardly breathe, and were moving about 100 ft/30 minutes. It was miserable. 

Eventually, Kenton called me and instructed Krystal and I just to get off the bus and start walking against the flow of traffic. We were all really hoping that Kenton and Mr. Gonzalez were in the same line of cars, and that they weren't too far behind the bus. Krystal and I walked through people offering us rides, beer, cigarettes, and company for about 5 minutes among the grid-locked cars before we FINALLY saw Kenton walking towards us. Needless to say, we left Puntarenas as soon as possible.

So, our plans of going to the beach were thwarted. Nevertheless, we drove to San Jose and tried exotic fruit, delicious typical food at a restaurant called Las Delicias de Maiz (Krystal's first time eating out, my 2nd!), phenomenal ice cream at a chain here called Pops, and had a really good time with Mr. G as he played 'Tour Guide' and pointed out some really neat spots in San Jose. He even drove Krystal and I back up the mountain, so we wouldn't have to get a bus. It was a really amazing day.

This fruit was AMAZING. It was really light, and full of gooey seeds that looked like frog eggs. Super delicious frog eggs.

The next week at school flew by, because it was review week, we didn't have to teach anything new to the students, and we were busy writing tests. Friday came, and Krystal and I got on another 6:30am bus to head to San Jose where Kenton would be waiting for us. He was preaching for the first time that Sabbath, and I had really wanted to be with him for that.

Friday afternoon we spent some time walking around San Jose, Krystal and I both enjoying the prices that were WAY cheaper than everything in MonteVerde. I was in need of some Sabbath Shoes, and found some adorable red heels for 3,000 Colones--which may sound like a lot, but is only $6! It made me a happy girl.

The next day we joined Kenton as he went to a new church and gave his first sermon in Spanish. He did SO GOOD, and everyone loved his message. We were invited to the head elder's house for lunch after church, and spent some time there before heading out to Sociedad de Jovenes, which is basically a youth program. That night, Krystal, Kenton and I ate grilled cheese and pb&j, watched a funny movie, and relaxed.

Sunday, the bus to MonteVerde left at 2:30 from San Jose, so Kenton, Krystal and I woke up, got on the bus from Cartago, and found a mall to hang out at until it was time for us to leave. The taxi driver took us to San Pedro, a big 3 level mall that looked fun to explore.

And explore we did! We laughed and looked around the mall for a few hours before deciding we wanted a snack, and stopping to buy some smoothies. We were sitting down in the food court, drinking our snack, when suddenly I noticed 5 or 6 people start rushing towards the table beside us, where they had left their strollers and things. 

My eyes locked onto the face of a woman who was running to grab her baby, and I have never seen such intense desperation and fear on someone's face before. Time seemed to slow down for that instant, and all I could see was her--terrified.

Time after that seemed to blur together. I had no idea what was suddenly happening. I managed to say, "Kenton!" before grabbing my bag, turning, and sprinting in the direction of everyone else that had been in the food court. Krystal had already gone and was ahead of me.  I started to panic as we ran, and I turned behind and kept calling for Kenton until he caught up and was right behind me. 

"I'm here, I'm here princess, keep going."

Shop owners, seeing this huge herd of terrified people sprinting towards their businesses, frantically closed their doors as we went by. Krystal, who was leading, turned and somehow got separated from the rest, with Kenton and I close behind. She had found an exit down through a parking garage, and we were the only ones in the tunnel, still sprinting down, our adrenaline pumping.

"What's happening!?" I asked, and Krystal said one word: "Shooter."

This was not good. I could only think and say the same words: "Oh God, Oh please, Oh God, Please God."

You see, originally I had thought it was an Earthquake. In my mind, when I had locked on the terrified woman, my brain convinced me that the buildings suddenly seemed to be shaking and that the air was suddenly full of dust.

Kenton had originally thought it was a fire. When I said his name with such panic, his cheek immediately felt hot as if he could feel the flames. 

But here Krystal was confirming that both of our suspicions had been wrong: it was a SHOOTER?!

And we were running, alone, in a tunnel.

"Oh God, Oh Please, Oh God, Please God."

Finally we saw daylight and ran out, still running, always running until we found people. Kenton grabbed my hand and started leading me towards the rest of the people who had fled.

Terrified, we asked the nearest couple what had happened. In Spanish, they reply: "There was a huge gas leak in one of the restaurants, and someone called out that it was going to explode."

An EXPLOSION?! None of us had been correct. However, we were IMMENSELY relieved to find that there was not some psycho with a gun that had been chasing us down the parking garage tunnel. Instead, it was a mere accident; a gas leak that could have happened in any mall at any time.

I was shaking so bad that I could hardly move. I have never in my entire life been so genuinely afraid that I was going to die.

We left the mall and found a Pizza Hut.

And all Kenton could talk about, as Krystal and I raved about how terrifying that had been, was that he had left his smoothie on the table before running out.

So there you have it. A very eventful and impactful moment in my life. I have no idea how I knew to run so quickly after seeing the terrified woman. I don't remember grabbing my bag or pushing the chair away. One second I was startled as men ran to the table beside us, the next I was sprinting along with them down the hallway. 

My only explanation was that God was with us, and His angels kicked me in the booty to get out of there--and fast.

We are all alive and well thanks to God and His protection. I may have some PTSD whenever I drink a smoothie, but other than that, no damage was done.

Until next time.

Pura Vida.(: 

And it's already been a month.

How cute is this little guy?

“They say I'm old-fashioned, and live in the past, but sometimes I think progress progresses too fast!” 

― Doctor Seuss

Today, I have been in Costa Rica for exactly one month. In fact, I was making my way through customs at this very moment.

Time here is a very funny thing. I have definitely had to re-adjust my expectations when it comes to people being 'punctual' and events, taxis, school, and church being 'on time'.

In the states, I feel as if the clock is definitive. Often, people's lives are planned down to the minute. Don't get me wrong: my former roommate Anna would be the first to tell you how much I loved - LOVED - being on time. She hated it. I hated being late.

But here... I've had time (ha) to really consider the significance of that. The worldview here is different. People take time to enjoy what they're DOING, not think about what they have to do in the next hour, minute, or second. Often, this means that they aren't exactly on time. Okay, fine, no one is EVER on time. Still, they always make it to where they're supposed to be.

At first, this really frustrated me. I wanted to plan out my days, know when I could do what, where I was going to be and when.

However, in only my month here, I have realized that not having everything planned to the second is, in a way, liberating. I still often find myself checking the clock, only to realize that hey, it's different here.

Time is slower, people are happier, and life is just more... full. More enriched.

Time is slower, I am living more in the moment, allowing God to take more control of my life, even second by second.

That being said, I look back on my time here and can hardly believe it's already been a month. Where did that time go?! If it's slower, why has it gone by so quickly?

Of course, it has been hard, and I have been tired, and hungry, and sick, and terrified, and lonely... but today my stomach is full, my heart is warm, and I am more than content.

I know I still have 8 months here. And I do ache for Walla Walla. I miss the fall, I miss my family, I miss the Longest Table, I miss my friends, I miss studying, I miss showing up at Chelsea's apartment with Kenton and Daniel to bake cookies whether she and Ashley liked it or not.

But this moment is fleeting, no matter how slow it feels. This chapter of my life is just that - a chapter. It will end, the next one will begin all too soon. This is an adventure, and it is beautiful, and I am growing. While I miss the comfort of my home, and the security of the familiar, I am being used by God here.

That is the most incredible feeling of all.

So, here's to the next 8 months. May as well be 8 blinks.

Smiling. Always smiling.

Pura Vida.
(:

Ahora tengo veinte años!

The sweet cake that Priscilla had made for me!

Last Friday, I turned 20. How exciting that I left my teenage years in such a beautiful and foreign country. 

This entire past weekend was seriously the BEST. It was so beautiful in every way.

When I arrived at School, all of the kids swarmed me in a giant bear hug. We went to Bible, where they sang Happy Birthday to me in Spanish and English. They prayed for me.

The last period of the day, I was surprised by NOT having to teach Science (thank goodness)! The kids led me into the cafeteria, where they sang to me AGAIN and presented the beautiful cake above.

Most of the kidlets!

Right when they were done singing, a taxi pulled up to the school, and I watched as my incredible boyfriend stepped out of the passengers side. I excused myself from the cafeteria and tackled him. All of the kids had followed me, and they tackled Kenton right after I was done. We went back, ate cake, I received amazing hand-made cards and a purple t-shirt, and then played with the kids for the next hour before school was dismissed at 12. All of the kids immediately LOVED Kenton. He played football (proper American!) with them, and they wished he would never leave. I, of course, agreed with them wholeheartedly.

I monkeyed around with the ladies, cheering the boys on.

After school was out, Kenton, Krystal and I went into town to purchase food for the next few days. Because it was my birthday, we bought stuff to make another cake (including chocolate frosting! SO HAPPY.), peanut butter (again... SO HAPPY!) bread, jelly, a baguette, popcorn, pasta, sauce, tomatoes, green beans, and these little guava pastries. When we had bought all of the food, we introduced Kenton to even MORE food! We got delicious smoothies from Cosechas, and then bought fresh little pastries at the Panaderia to snack on.

We went to Priscilla's, made popcorn, watched Ocean's 13, baked a cake, laughed more than should be allowed, and had a FANTASTIC afternoon together.

At 6, we went to the church for the last day of their week of prayer. The church family sang me happy birthday, and kissed and hugged me, and welcomed Kenton with open arms. (Kenton is the great-grandson of an Adventist Celebrity here. Everyone is thrilled to talk to him about how much they loved Pastor Arroyo.)

Once that was over, we returned to Priscilla's house and made Grilled PB&J's per my request. It was, truly, delicious. We laughed some more, shared each others company.

The next morning before church, Kenton came over to Priscilla's early so that we could all eat breakfast. We made French Toast with the leftover bread, and ate some of the first mango we've had since coming to Costa Rica (it doesn't grow in MonteVerde!) because Kenton had been so generous as to bring us some.

We went to church, enjoyed a lovely service, and then attempted to walk back to Priscilla's to make Sabbath lunch.

5 seconds in, it started POURING. We were walking down 50 degree declines with enough water to qualify as a water slide. Needless to say, once we actually got to the house, we looked like drowned rats.

I had to literally ring out my skirt.

It sure made for a great laugh, however. Poor Kenton had to wear some of my pajama pants while we dried his only clothes.

After, we made a delicious lunch, and that evening we went to teacher Yolanda's house for dinner. Kenton entertained us all with coin and card tricks.

The next morning before Kenton left, we made pancakes with M&M's because they don't sell chocolate chips. They were delicious.

My birthday weekend was AMAZING and full of joy. I couldn't have asked for anything better.(:

Pura Vida.(:

Growing, always Growing.

The Second Cost Rican sunset I've seen since I've been here, due to all of the rain. The picture doesn't do the beauty justice.

“Often, it’s not about becoming a new person, but becoming the person you were meant to be, and already are, but don’t know how to be.” - Heath L. Buckmaster

I am growing.

I am growing into the culture, into a teacher, into bilingualism, into myself.

A significant part of growing into myself means forgetting who I am. I know that doesn't make any sense. I'm not sure I really understand it, either.

Let me try to explain:

How do we always define ourselves? Hola, me llamo Kayla/Hello, I'm Kayla. Soy de los estados unidos/I'm from the United States. Yo estudio Ingles, y quiero ensenar Colegio/I study English, and hope to teach High School. Si, tengo tres hermanos/Yes, I have three siblings. Tengo diecinueve anos/I am 19 years old.

This is pretty standard. I have recited this introduction countless times. However, I am no longer in the US. I am not currently studying English. I am no longer with my family. I turn 20 on Friday.

The only thing that never changes is my name, and here, even that is different! Everyone pronounces it 'Kyla'.

Everything that I have ever defined myself by is no longer my constant. What is my constant, then? What is unchanging about me? Who am I?

Because I have been thrust into a new place, I have had to re-evaluate who I am and who I want to become. 

Why am I even on a Mission?

I am not only growing in myself; I am growing in Faith. I am growing in Christ.

First and foremost, that is all I am. I am empty. I am open and ready for Him to fill me; to use me.

I have already seen Him at work.

A quick story to elaborate: 

Krystal and I were hungry for something other than rice and beans, so we walked down the street to one of the little Pulperia's. As we were walking, I smiled and greeted the people that we passed.  As we walked by a restaurant, I gave the woman sitting outside the same greeting as all the rest: "Buenas!"

"Y a usted! Oh, tus botas, que linda! Fue un buen idea!" Or, "And to you! Oh, your (rain) boots, how cute! That was a good idea!"

Krystal and I paused, and I thanked her for her compliment. She asked if I was a student, and I explained that no, I was a volunteer teacher at the Adventist school. She paused, looked closer at my face, and burst out laughing.  I didn't know how to respond to that, so I laughed nervously along with her, waiting for her to explain. She finally did, and translated, she said:

"Oh my goodness, Maria had shown me a picture of you from her cell phone! She was saying that you, the new volunteer, was so beautiful, and kind, and loving. I'm so happy to have met you! She was right!"

Maria is the name of the woman who prepares our breakfast and our lunch. She is one of the hardest working women I have ever met. She has four jobs, walks everywhere in Monteverde (which - Trust me - is impressive. These streets are worse than San Fran!) and does everything to put her two daughters into private school. It turns out that the little restaurant we had stopped at was one of her other jobs.

I almost felt like crying, I was so shocked and happy. I honestly couldn't think of anything remarkable I had ever said or done for Maria - I just talked with her, thanked her for my food, kissed her cheek in greeting - and here, she had spoken of ME in such a positive way.  I thanked the woman, and we continued walking.

God has already used me. I could not have done that on my own.

So, I have decided to start defining myself by the one thing that never changes:

I am Kayla. I am a child of God.

Soy Kayla(Kyla), y soy una nina de Jesus.

Pura Vida. <3

The Education Cycle: Who's Learning Most?

Teaching is hard. I mean, it's really hard.

Especially Science. I have three grades in one classroom, and I have to teach three different subjects to three different grades in one hour and hope and pray that they actually understand a little bit of what I'm saying.

Which is made even harder when they don't understand my primary language, yet I'm supposed to only speak to them in English.

That being said, teaching is amazing. It's the most remarkable thing I've ever done. I mean, look at these guys!

Here they look unassumingly organized and compliant. Do not be fooled.

They are adorable. Super adorable. But when I teach, most of them share this look:

Closely followed by the whine: "Ay, teacher!" 

Still. They may be crazy, and they may try to cuss in Spanish just because I was never taught bad words and they think they can get away with it, but teaching them is rewarding. It's a beautiful thing. I love it.

I have learned WAY more than I think they have in the two weeks I've been teaching. I have made mistakes, but have learned from them, and am growing as a teacher. I am comforted by the fact that I have 8 more months to make up for a rough start.

Teaching is why I'm here; it is my mission.

However, my experience in Costa Rica is already so much more than just working at the school. For example - I am in a completely different culture with completely different values, world views, and food. The food here is typically DELICIOUS. I love it. I love Gallo Pinto, I love the fruit (so much PAPAYA!) I love the rice and beans. 

What I do NOT like is eating a generous helping of lentils with yuka, to find 3/4 of the way through my meal that the yuka was covered in blue spots. That evening, my stomach didn't like it either. I woke up mid-vomit at 11pm. The remains of my entire un-digested dinner covered my blankets. It had been years since I'd thrown up.

It was a terrible experience. I showered and woke up Priscilla to ask for some new blankets after cleaning up what I could. I still felt ridiculously weak and yucky, so I went back to bed and washed the blankets the next day.

Thankfully, I did not continue to throw up. It was only that one time to get the rotten food out of my stomach. It could have been a lot worse.

I even went to school the next day to help the kids prepare for their special program that we had at church this Sabbath. The kids all dressed up and shared the importance of Adventist Education. Krystal and I sang, they played guitars, and recited poems.

After church, 12 people all crammed into a car to go to this beautiful location for lunch. The table was covered by a ceiling, but it was outdoors and we could watch as it poured a few feet away.

The amazing covered outdoor lunch spot of yesterday.

 The food was delicious, too. I was grateful to have my appetite back.

A happy girl, far away from home.

Afterwards we went on a nature walk through one of the reserves, even though it was still pouring. We didn't see a lot of animals, but the trees were crazy awesome.

This beasty is the cousin of the Ficus! Yes, the Ficus! You probably have one in your house.

Today, Krystal and I are at the school preparing (blogging) for next week. Soon we'll leave and walk into town to buy some fruit and food to make Priscilla and her aunt dinner.

Life here is just that - life. But it's beautiful.

Pura Vida.(: