Little Things, by Kate.

The interesting thing about Costa Rica is that no matter where you go, you feel at home. This comes along with many other feelings that you don't necessarily feel at your real home in the States.

You always feel a little overheated, a little under-hydrated, and a little overtired. It doesn't matter if you are inside or outside, if you drinks 900 bottles of water every day, or get 10 hours of sleep every night. You always feel a little too dirty, no matter how many showers you take, and you always feel a little too relaxed, even when you should feel scared, upset, angry, or irritated.

You feel an incredibly powerless when you are cat-called on the streets countless times a day, simply because you are a female. You feel a tiny bit flattered until you remember that you feel annoyed at this behavior. You feel a little like you want to flick off the men to remind them that their behavior is unacceptable, until you remember that where you are, and that it is perfectly acceptable, and that kind of bird would be considered rude and uncalled for here.

You feel a little but like an outsider, and almost too comfortable with being an outsider. You feel the smiles of Ticos when you butcher a Spanish-spoken sentence, but you don't feel embarrassed, because in this country, they understand that you're trying. You feel accepted even though you know you stick out like a family of Ticos would stick out in Merrimack.

You have many moments in which you forget where you are and how different and amazing your surroundings are, and then an iguana makes you slam your feet backwards to work your tattered "bici" breaks, and you think, "This would never happen in New Hampshire! How lucky am I?"

You actually have MANY adventures on bicycles. You have not fully immersed yourself into the Tico community until you've ridden a bike with two people on it in every single way possible- for better or for worse. You REALLY haven't fully immersed yourself into the Tico community until you try the Trinidad ride late at night and break your handle bars and chain in front of an entire family of Costa Ricans, yet somehow still evade death and brutal injury. You haven't really enjoyed the glory of the Tico bike until you've ridden down to the beach during low tide late at night under the most amazing sky of stars you've ever seen and slid down the top of the sand dune into the ocean, as if you're sledding, with the best friends you have within a 3,000 mile radius.

You feel the most random things at the most random times that you remind you that even though you feel as if you are at home, you are somewhere completely new and different. It's a mix of the terrible karaoke comprised of American songs from the 80's from your neighbor's house in the middle of the day, the 90 degree weather that makes you want to jump into the ocean even if it means you'll drag sand around with you all day long, the dogs next door that never shut up, the dogs in the street that are as common as squirrels on the UNH campus. It's the rooster that wakes you up at 8am in an adobe apartment in Jaco, it's the theory that "YOU'RE side of the road" doesn't actually exist, the near-death experiences that you learn to accept as an everyday occurence, the Spanish that you don't understand and leaves you frustrated and feeling hopeless, and then the Spanish that you do understand and leaves you excited and ready to sit down with a dictionary until you have the whole damn thing memorized. It's biking to school and having your chain fall off EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. because of the bumpy terrain, and the friendly Tico who teaches you how to fix it even though he could have just let you continue to walk it. It's seeing everyone on a Thursday night walking around with a beer in hand, and going to school on a Friday morning, barely able to make it through class because you are exhausted from the night before, and distracted by the excitement of your upcoming weekend adventure. It's the overcrowded Tico bus that barely fits on the makeshift bridge, and the adrenaline rush you get every time you round the corner of a steep mountain that leads further down than you can even see. It's simply looking up from your balcony at school and seeing palm trees and ocean straight ahead, and to the left and the right, a backdrop of mountains and clouds that are not under your spotless blue sky.

In Costa Rica, you feel a little extra crazy, and a lot extra happy, every single day, even if nothing iomportant happens. Being here feels just like falling in love for the first time.