Family Visit!

A wonderful thing when moving to new places is for your loved ones get to come meet that new place that you love for themselves. My family came for a week to take in the pura vida. We had an amazing time together all over the city and country, especially at a remote eco lodge that we rafted to and from. 


Gracias, fam, for bringing your beautiful selves to visit me and for infusing your brilliance into my life once again. 

Part 2 of my series on Examiner.com about authenticity and Internet fitness celebrities:
http://www.examiner.com/anthropology-in-scottsdale/part-2-the-total-fitness-persona-from-the-gym-to-the-web

And:
Fitness Celebs

I'm a real writer!

I am now an officially published professional writer on Examiner.com! I applied as an examiner of Scottsdale Anthropology and will be reporting remotely on various local issues related to the cultural make-up in Scottsdale. Check out my very first article:


Part 1: Determining authenticity through the Internet


Thanks for your support in my writing career :)

Happy 2 Month Anniversary Costa Rica!

To commemorate, a list of course...


Never have I ever:

• Driven in the middle of the jungle alone (the road to Guanacaste)
• Thrown myself a birthday party
• Seen a play Spanish (La Madre Coraje and Ma(d)e in Tikicia)
• Been to beach with black, volcanoe-burned sand (Playa Negra)
• Rafted a tropical river (Rio Reventazon)
• Walked for 6 straight hours (La Romería)
• Eaten so much rice and beans for breakfast (hurray for Gallo Pinto!)
• Explored San Jose's historic district (good finds!)
• Been to so many concerts in 1 month (thanks to the awesome shows at Jazz Cafe, a wonderful lounge-y venue with different themed music every single day. It runs more consistently than any government sector here)

And now for the big news: I will be staying in Costa Rica until the end of the year! I will be taking on a new role in the company and extending my contract. I am very excited.


2 down, 4 more to go! 

Puerto Viejo

My recent trip to the caribbean beach town of Puerto Viejo resulted in a re-ignited love of reggae, the viewing of greens and forage that the English language cannot accurately describe, and the consuming of fresh tropical fruit cocktails with my feet in the sand. I went with some friends on an internship exchange program with U of A (small world!), and we stayed in cabanas complete with hammocks, mosquito nets, and direct access to the beach. My highlight has to be the Afrocaribbean culture that trickles through the pueblito's little downtown. Puerto Viejo is pura vida.

A Response to "My First Pilgrimage"

Doing any outwardly religious act requires an inward response. Or it should elicit an inward response, I should say. The sanctity of a religious ritual is not the action itself but the spiritual change, enlightenment, encouragement, etc. it brings about. It is a physical manifestation of a stirring within. 

What stirring occurred in me from the romería on Monday?  

I went with mostly a secular intention of being a part of a national tradition, but I also made an intention for the trip (yoga style). I dedicated the time I had to pray and think on a few particular special people. But I in no way was in constant prayer, and while I thought of their faces when the uphill trekking got painful, when I arrived at the Basilica I honestly completely forgot about them as my intention. Would this be considered a failed mission?

Someone made a comment to me about the point of the pilgrimage being a sacrifice. Sacrificing for God, (like fasting can be) or sacrificing in honor of someone else. He mentioned that my sacrifice of sleep, comfortability, and time was greater than those who took the holiday off the next day after walking. That made me think; the point of the sacrifice is sort of a double standard: the bigger  and more outward your personal sacrifice, the more worthy others see the sacrifice being. However, the sacrifice must be first and foremost of the self, giving the broken self to God by doing away with it. But by sacrificing in a highly public fashion-- not even to the extent of walking barefoot or going on knees but actually just being a part the procession in and of itself-- you are in a sense going in opposition of putting the self last. You are putting yourself in a showy place for others to see your sacrifice or hear about it after the fact. Even limping around the office the day after the romería felt showy to me personally, as if to remind others, look at me, I'm sore because I sacrificed my muscles for God while you just slept the night away. Jesus' commandment is that when we fast, we do so in secret. When we tithe, we do so in secret. But you cannot walk in a 12 mile long procession in secret, and when saying the Our Father aloud every 10 minutes, I think others take notice. 

On the complete opposite note, I do believe that many people participate in the romería out of pure intentions, and that those walking barefoot are not all like the Pharisee praying loudly on the street corner. I felt a strong union between the other romeros, especially when large groups of people joined in singing praise songs together, or when I heard others praying aloud to themselves. This was a spiritual solidarity, similar to that I felt with the other runners during my half marathon or at with my classmates at my USC graduation, plus Jesus. Going with a bunch of other people on a self-sacrificing mission keeps you accountable to your purpose, even just through the presence of others with similar intentions. It is encouraging to witness the faith of other brothers and sisters through their own sacrifices. 

My own spiritual stirring mostly came through conviction of my judgmental mind and (as usual), my pride. The romería offered the opportunity to entertain both and it forced me to deal with them in a direct and urgent way. It is possible to be public while being self-sacrificing but it takes a heart aligned with the Lord. I am still learning what this looks like for me.

My Very First Pilgrimage

Almost half of the country's population—1.5 million people—travel on foot to the Basilica of Cartago to pay homage to the patron saint of La Virgen de Los Angeles every 2nd of August.

Most travel at least 22 km, but some arrive from the Panamanian or Nicaraguan borders.

My journey was 20 km/12 miles and 5 hours or non-stop walking (Well, I did of course have to stop twice to go to the bathroom, hence the 30 minute deduction).

We left downtown San Jose at 8:30pm and arrived at 2am on the dot (as we approached the plaza, we heard the church bells strike twice).

Whether to fulfill a promise to the Virgin, to participate in the ritual, to have fun with friends,

People principally go for faith; some on knees, many barefoot, more with only sandals.

There are people of all ages walking, from viejitos to babies in their mother’s arms.

It was my first time being a part of such a grand-scale religious pilgrimage, and I went with various intentions.

The roads are closed to accommodate the mass movement of humanity.

There are sections where it is wide, but there are points—like at the bridge—where you must force yourself to shuffle along like a herd of cattle to fit through the small opening.

The route to Cartago is uphill for most of the journey from San Jose to climb 1,000 feet in elevation.

This makes the journey a bit difficult after 3 straight hours in the middle of the night.

Upon arrival, devotees wait another 2-3 hours to enter the church where the original Virgin is displayed.

There are 2 entrances, one for foot travelers, one for those coming on hands and knees. The knees line was almost even with those on foot.

In the massive plaza surrounding the impressive church are thousands of prone romeros who camp out after their journeys with nothing more trash bags or loved ones for coverage.

I did not have the capacity to wait to go inside at 2am unfortunately, but I am excited to return when the action has calmed down a bit.

The Virgen of the Angeles is a stone Madonna statue that was appeared twice in the spot where the Basilica rests.

She appeared to a peasant girl first, who brought her home only to find her disappeared in the morning and back at the original place she found her.

The girl then brought her to a priest who locked her in a box for safekeeping. The next morning she was found in the same distant location.

Church constructed in her honor at a different location was unsuccessfully finished due to several earthquakes. It was taken as a sign that the Virgin wanted her church to be exactly where she appeared. It’s final location was completed in 1639 (although also partially destroyed by another earthquake years later).

I bought 2 small replicas and a rosary from a stand on the road for a dollar.

The Basilica has 3 different sections that have been restored and expanded since the 19^th century.

The front section is the most commanding, with its Byzantine-era architecture that resembles the cathedrals of the Greek Orthodox.

At night, only the front is illuminated, giving it this flat, doll-house quality of cartoonish perfection in front of a backdrop.

When I first saw the structure as I emerged from the carnival street leading up to it, I was amazed by its large scale and clean walls. Nothing else in Costa Rica is as big and white as the Basilica (not even the gringo tourists).

My highlights of the night are following a guitar-carrying youth group singing worship songs;

Being inspired by the faith of others displayed in a way I have not previously understood;

Eating a red frozen gelatina (frozen jello in fat Otter Pop plastic) and discussing world politics with my companions;

Feeling a part of Costa Rican culture in a profound way.

23 Years

I feel really godo about 23 so far. I'm a blank slate for the new year, a white page. To honor having lived 23 years today, here is (of course) a list (!) of the top 10 things I"m thankful for since July 18, 1988:

1. 1.       The goodness, wholeness, messiness, silliness, craziness, beauty, loveliness of my entire King, Sering, Vaught, Theis, Tomlinson, Kirkland, Meyer family. I love you.
2. 2.       God being good, but not easy.
3. 3.       My many best friends throughout the ages who make this entire life worth living. I mean it really is incredible how many people have changed my life with their friendship.
4. 4.       The ability to experience life with all 5 (+!) healthy senses.
5. 5.       The fact that I have 17 years of diverse formal education under my belt and 23 years of learning the harder way.
6. 6.       Knowing what a sunset looks like over Antarctic & Alaskan glacial waters, Pacific & Atlantic coasts, Sonoran & Chilean desert sands, Midwestern & European planes, Rocky & Andean mountains, rainforest & pine trees, and knowing what it looks like to be flying over the sunset.
7. 7.       Shalom.
8. 8.       What my body has been capable of in years past and what it is capable of now.
9. 9.       The fact that I will never be _____ enough.
10. 10.  All of the little opportunities that have lead to big opportunities (example #1 being my current position).

Happy 1 Month Anniversary Costa Rica!

As per my tradition, some musings of being in my new home for 31 days...

-When I wake up in the morning, I see this:

-Where there is a nice-ish apartment complex, there is an adjacent grassy field. Where the grass in the grassy field is shorter than 3 feet, there is a soccer goal.

-It rains every afternoon (since we are in the rainy season), and I find it refreshing and reminiscent of my Indiana childhood days.

-Office life is not as dreadful as I imagined, and I have TED, the Vicky Cristina Barcelona soundtrack, and the delicious (and free) coffee to thank in part for that.

-As I have learned before from living in a new place, if you are not in a practically constant state of uncomfortability in the beginning, you are doing it wrong. I am pushing myself daily to make the most out of being here; starting conversations with strangers, exploring a new part of the city by foot and by car (and subsequently getting lost), asking tons of questions, and in general just trying brand new things. As I told my friend, you have to just embrace the difficulty to the maximum because it's the only way to make the most of it.

-The people I have met here have shown me the artsy, bohemian-y spots I had been searching for. Word of mouth is very influential in Costa Rican culture, whether it be through office gossip or where to see the newest theater performance. You absolutely must listen to and know the right people to get the most out of San Jose. 

-This time around, I am at peace with not transforming into a local; no need to lose myself again in the impossible process of complete assimilation. 

-I am finding my "wake up at 6 and run, drive to work from 8 to 5:30, and come home and cook for myself" life rather... nice. I let my crazy out after dinner (as it brews internally up until then), but this adult/"real world" life is not so bad. The only thing is that I find the routine numbing in its steadiness and comfortability (my made-up word again), and I can see how it can be easy to fall into the trappings of its security. But I don't buy it. 

-I need to really commit to consistently "serving the poor"/volunteering somewhere because my heart is needy for it.

-I miss the fact that all my family is in Indiana together and I am not.

-I am doing fun things. Here is an example of one, in which I zip-lined upside down across the rainforest canopy:

Also, Pura Vida is real!

Is this real-life?

I never am satisfied with the toned-down, manicured aesthetic of tourist attractions attempting to play the role of a sippy-cup lid to your glass of authentic foreign experience, filtering the chunks and making sure you don't swallow more than you can handle. I, along with many other I-am-not-a-tourist kinds of travelers, are in constant search for the "real" (insert travel destination here)-- going where the natives eat, getting around by public transportation, and keeping the lifestyle of the local population. We are not easily deceived by the overpriced trinkets, not easily amused by the planned tours, and not easily content with simply being comfortable. Travel becomes a challenge, a research investigation, a game. This propels our  sense of urgency to go, go, go, get lost in a new land where no Lonely Planet guide book can get you out of. Get lost and get yourself out. All over the world. You will never be done. You can never beat the game. Finding the "real" for yourself is overwhelming, frightening and makes you feel alive. This just furthers the wanderlust. It's like a drug.


With that in mind, I find myself in my new territory searching for the "authentic" Costa Rica ("authenticity" being among a group of extremely sensitive anthropological jargon that cannot be written without quotations lest you go down in flames with "primitive" and "Third World Country"). This has been confusing and difficult; on one hand, all is Pura Vida, palm-roofed fruit stands on the side of the road, and beautifully decorated ox-driven carts delivering goods, and on the other hand I don't believe that's the "real" Costa Rica. The first time I visited CR in high school, I believed that the locals said pura vida just for the appearance of everything being great for the sake of the tourists' blissful, pampered experience (pura vida is literally the national motto meaning "pure life," and is also the response to any question about well-being, life status, or food quality. Ex: "How are you? Pura vida!" "Do you like the chicken? Pura vida!" Any bumper sticker, shirt, magnet, or little chachky from Costa Rica will undoubtedly have this phrase marked someone next to the country name). I thought it was a fake saying, a too-good-to-be-true smiley response that was created and enforced by the government when Costa Rica decided to up their tourism industry on the gringos. But I have found, Costa Rican to Costa Rican, no tourist in sight, people actually using this phrase normally. Everything really is pura vida. That brings me to the palapa fruit stands selling fresh mangos and strawberries with handwritten signs off the side of the jungle road... is this really where the locals shop too? The stands feel forced-- although not without charm-- like receiving a welcome leigh when you land in Hawaii. It is again, just too good to be true. But yet again, it is true. The company driver (and my personal buddy) took us to his favorite road-side fruit stand where he likes to buy his strawberries. He bought his items and pura vida'd on his way out. And then a few moments later, we saw a legit campesino leading his two white oxen pulling a marvelously painted 2-wheeled cart. Maybe the guy was even delivering fruit to the stand. I was too overwhelmed by the staged-ness of the whole scene involving all 3 elements I most doubt the legitimacy of, so I stayed in the car while my friend jumped out to snap a photo. Is there some magic Costa Rican tourist fairy that is following foreigners around and planning out these postcard scenes and moments? I guess I was wrong about the gimmicks. But I still don't fully believe it.