From Costa Rica With Love [Study Ablog]

Time again for a check-in from a SPA student studying abroad.  Today’s post is written by sophomore (kinda) Erin Brewer, who is an ESIA student studying abroad in Costa Rica.
I spent my first two weeks in Costa Rica desperately clinging to a routine. I woke up, ate breakfast with my host mom, met my friends at the bus stop, went to school, came back from school, spent the rest of my evening on Skype or otherwise avoiding homework, went to sleep, lather, rinse, repeat. I occasionally strayed the tiniest bit from the safety of my schedule. I went to a café near campus after school. I took a terrifying bus ride by myself. I once even ventured to the mall just a few blocks from my university. But I stuck to the same neighborhoods, the same restaurants, the same bus routes, the same (American) people. I was just trying to survive Costa Rica.
Before I left for my semester abroad, I had found a group on Facebook who played pick up Ultimate Frisbee in San Jose. I had messaged them from the safety of the States, telling them I was interested in playing with them while I was there. But once I finally arrived, it took me two full weeks to gather the courage to venture out to their weekly game.
  I played my first game with them on a miserable Monday night. It was pouring rain and had been since two in the afternoon. I got a ride from a guy who lived near my neighborhood. He spoke little English and I spoke little Spanish so we settled for speaking Spanglish the entire awkward car ride. When we got there, there were hardly enough people to play. The field was more of a swamp than a field. We were cold, soaking wet, and otherwise uncomfortable. And it was the best game of ultimate I have ever played in my life.
When it was all over, I found myself sitting in a nearby bar with my new “Tico” friends. We were still cold, still wet, and still otherwise uncomfortable, and now we were covered from head to toe in mud, as well. Everyone was laughing, giving me advice on bars and restaurants in San Jose, cracking jokes in Spanish—some of which I actually understood. For the first time since I got off the airplane I was not just surviving Costa Rica, I was living here.