I knew it was going to be a good day when they served pancakes for breakfast this morning.
Deany Weany scheduled a high tea today at 3:30. He and Kathy are fabulous hosts. We had teas, juices, cookies, cracker/ pretzel things, and cheeses. Oh yes. Today was the day to try Choco Cheese. Choco Cheese does not deserve to be called a cheese. Just try to imagine: reduced fat Kraft American cheese slices, with a hint of chocolate. And as if the texture and taste weren't enough, Choco Cheese is brown. Brown like mud. Or poop. Not like cheese. Not by any stretch of the imagination is this horrible violation of nature like cheese.
Not that I actually expected to like Choco Cheese, but I expected to be able to see how someone could possibly like it. Beyond sheer curiosity, I cannot imagine another reason why anyone in their right mind would purchase this heinous excuse for a cheese. I guess they keep in on the shelves for the crazies and the suckas in the TOURISTA taxis. And for our guide from the cheese factory. Questions? Questions?
After high tea, we went back to our homestays. Lindsay decided to be a rockstar today and give us rides home in the truck. Go Lindsay.
I got some quality one-on-one time with mi madre when I got home. She is like the cutest woman ever. I am obsessed. She showed me my babies' new home. It has two lights and much more space so no more babies will die. Yay. Then I sat in the kitchen and did some homework and chatted with mi madre while she cooked dinner. Dinner was some delicious tico version of chicken fried rice. It was delicious, but of course I failed to finish the gargantuan portion that was served to me. Kevin and Kaylor, on the other hand, did not leave a single grain of rice on their plates. And Kaylor is sick. What the heck.
After dinner, I had dancing lessons with mi madre and Kevin. Kaylor refused to dance with us like a little punk. I would have been mad at him, but he makes the cutest angry face. It's like a kissy face--he just sticks out his lips as far as they can go. Freaking adorable. He said he was too sick and tired to dance, even to a single song. I was disappointed because mi madre was going on and on about how great of a dancer Kaylor is. He ended up passing out on the couch. Hopefully he won't be so lame next time.
Mi madre has SO many dancing CDs. She loves to dance. Tonight we worked on my meringue and cumbia. First I would watch mi madre do the steps with Kevin, and then she'd pass Kevin off to me. Kevin gave me a hard time for looking at my feet too much and for forgetting to keep dancing when he was doing a turn or something, but he was nice about it. He's a good brother. I had worked up a sweat by the time we'd finished. It was so much fun. They got to experience my hyena laugh for the first time, so they are fully initiated now.
Lessons ended when Kevin couldn't dance anymore because his knee was hurting him too much. I think he messed it up playing soccer, but I could be making that up because I can't focus on my dancing and on my Spanish at the same time. So then the three of us watched the news. There was this one terrible story about how every 20 minutes, a tica gives herself an abortion. Abortions are illegal in Costa Rica because the government is still tied to the Catholic Church, but apparently that isn't stopping anyone. It was this super graphic segment with re-enactments of two girls' stories, and there were all these horrible scenes with bloody bathrooms and girls sobbing and all that. It was awful.
Okay I can't end on that note.
In happier news: today they had delicious cake and pancakes out for snacks. And in Spanish, Kathy brought me plastic spoons to eat my jar of peanut butter with. And I get to do the kiss thing every day with my brothers. And I haven't totally forgotten all my French yet. And I'm in Costa Rica. Pura vida.
ciao.
peace love and Kaylor's kissy face
