that is not a line from a sick joke, i promise.
yesterday, i was thinking about writing a blog about how great life is going. i've been cooking great dinners, i got a job babysitting/ tutoring for a really nice (really wealthy) family with adorable children, and we get the food network, and there is zara here, and there is even betty crocker cake mix available to me in a grocery store only 4 blocks away. and there is toblerone. and frozen tacquitos. and... wait for it... THERE IS TACO BELL IN COSTA RICA. this place is like a disneyland, but better.
that is what i was going to tell you all yesterday. today, however, i would like to expose the pitfalls of this fairytale. last night, i was taking the bus home from escazu, the suburb where i now have a job babysitting, but freaked out and thought the bus was going the wrong way. so i got off the bus, but had no clue where i was. not even what street i was on, because in costa rica they do not believe in labeling the streets with those handy things called street signs. if you don't know where the hell you are, then too bad. so i got in a cab, and asked him to drop me off in moravia, my own little suburb. as soon as we got to a recognizable landmark, i asked him to stop. i handed him the only bill i had, a 10,000 colones note, for the 1,000 colones cab ride. kind of crappy of me, but i had no other options. this really pissed him off, and he pretty much threw the change at me. as i got out of the cab, the door shut loudly behind me. to be clear, i did not slam it-- i pushed it hard to make sure it was closed. seriously. at this, the cab driver became unhinged, and in a combination of spanish and english, screamed at me "fuck you, don't slam the fucking door, bitch." awesome. such a friendly country, really.
today, i tried to take the bus out to my babysitting job. i got on the bus, and asked the driver if it stopped at the coca cola station, which is the main transfer center for buses. he said yes, so i got on and paid my 50 cents. the bus proceeded to turn in the exact opposite direction of the coca cola station, so i asked the guy next to me if the bus was going there. no, it was not. the driver then seemed to say that he simply thought i wanted to know if the bus was going somewhere i could get a coca cola. right. some people on the bus thought this was hilarious. me, not so much. so the bus made a special stop for me, and i paid ten dollars for a cab out to escazu.
to top off my last 24 hours, i had planned a wonderful, rachael ray inspired dinner with sausages braised in red wine. i now realize she probably didn't have spicy chorizo in mind, which was the only sausage available at the mega-super (our favorite grocery store). not only did it taste like crap, one sausage completely exploded while it was cooking, covering my face, my sweatshirt, and the entire kitchen in greasy, burning hot red wine. "damn you, rachael ray," was pretty much all i could say (once i stopped screaming).
you win some, you lose some, right? i think if i head back to mega super for some brownie mix, i'll call today a draw.
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