coming to America

I decided to book a trip home rather than pay another month's rent and risk running out of money.
My job selling rooms for the hostel paid just enough for a few meals every week. I still hadn't found a restaurant or store that would be willing to hire an illegal(me). I would have worked on a banana plantation if that's what it took to stay but there weren't any nearby.
When I told the hostel owners I was leaving, which happened to be on the very last day I was there, they were like "Oh, well I was just about to tell you we need someone to sell tours." I wanted to cry.
They had mentioned it briefly before but it had been over a month so I figured they didn't need anyone.

The previous tour seller was being investigated for murder, an American, sadly, from South Carolina.  He allegedly killed his girlfriend and fled back to the United States after stealing a few thousands from another tour booth. There's a big long story about that but I'll save it for another entry.

The commission I would have received for selling tours would have paid better than some jobs here.  For example, booking a $500 fishing tour would get you 80 bucks. All you do is call the company that actually does the tour and book it for tourists. And as busy as Tamarindo had been in the few days after Christmas, I imagine I could have sold quite a few. Oh well. If I go back it will definitely be after Christmas. I went way early.

I skipped visiting San Jose for the 4th time and instead stayed in Alajuela. Sarah and I rode back on a shuttle and met another traveler, a surfer from Sweden named Richard. He had been there since November working for a hostel in exchange for food and shelter. It was his third time in Costa Rica. He told us about this nice little hostel in Alajuela he was staying at so I canceled my reservation for the hostel in San Jose took a cab with him to this other one. It worked out better because a shuttle or cab ride from San Jose is at least 20 dollars. From the hostel in Alajuela, the city where the San Jose International Airport actually is located, cab fare was just 3 bucks.

The hostel itself was actually really nice. Small and cozy with clean beds and hot water, which was desperately needed since even our cold water hadn't been working at the apartment for our last week there. Had I known there were hostels like this actually near the airport I would have stayed there instead of San Jose 3 times. The city of Alajuela, from the little I saw, seemed nicer than San Jose.

There was nothing interesting about our flights home so I won't bore you with a ton of details. We left at 7 am for Denver then had a 7 and half hour layover at Denver International. We arrived to DFW at 10:45 pm.
My bags were searched by both Costa Rican security and American. The Costa Rican officer took out a pair of scissors and a wine opener. The TSA agent made me put all the shampoo and cologne bottles and toothpaste into a zip lock bag. He then screened my acne body wash for explosives. Of course it tested positive and I was subjected to the infamous TSA pat down/groping.
Luckily he found nothing suspicious anywhere on my person, and believe me he definitely felt everywhere. The explosive acne body wash was returned and on we went.

Before that we had to walk past a dog named "Awes"(short for "Awesome") to smell our bags. The little beagle would bark the alarm if he sensed drugs or food. Our luggage passed the sniff test, though others were not so fortunate and had to give up their bananas, roast beef sandwiches, and cookies to the TSA agent. She placed the contraband in a bag around her waist.

Upon arriving in Denver, something strange happened to my body.  The change in humidity, going from dense wet ocean air for 3 months to dry mountain weather, caused my skin to feel extremely dry and itchy. I could not stop rubbing my nose. My scalp was covered in snowflakes yet it had not been snowing in Denver. I felt these symptoms for about a week upon returning but the first night was the worst.
It's interesting how the body adjusts to the environment. When I first went down to the Caribbean jungle in October, I was constantly sweaty and oily for the first week. My skin was always wet and feeling dirty even after a shower. I felt hot all the time even though it was only in the low 80's and cool at night. Gradually my body adjusted, toned down it's sweat and oil production, and before long I was dry and comfortable even with no a/c.


The west coast was not as humid but the temperatures can climb higher and it doesn't get nearly as cool at night so many places do have a/c. It's also just a wealthier and more developed area.

Returning does not spell the end for this blog though. I have many more stories, experiences, and pictures I have yet to share like going to the animal rescue center in Puerto Viejo.