Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

Finally, I’m here.

Where is here exactly? Well, it’s in a (somewhat) little biological station called Caño Palma in Limón, Costa Ríca on the coast of the Caribbean Sea, where interns like me come to basically help save turtles.

It gets much deeper than that, but since this is an introduction, saving turtles is, in a nutshell, what I will be doing.

Costa Rica: On our way to the Cano Palma biological station via the Turtle Lodge boat..

Costa Rica: On our way to the Cano Palma biological station via the Turtle Lodge boat..

This is one of my bigger adventures coming up and boy do I have a lot in store for me here.

The trip to my current destination was not as eventful as that of Atlanta, Georgia. I would give the excuse that it’s because of the lack of varying transportation used as opposed to Hotlanta, but that would be very much incorrect.

My fellow interns and I took a plane, then a bus, stayed at a hostel for a night; then another bus, then a boat, and then we were there.

What a trip.

Thanks to past interns who have traveled this road often traveled though, they left written guides to let us know how to get there conveniently, which really truly helped.

We’ve only been at the station, and in the country, really, for a few hours, but one common thing I can tell (besides the fact that every county in Costa Ríca has at least one church, one school, one medical clinic, and one soccer field, according to our station bus driver), the sense of community is very strong.

I, myself, can be very introverted at times and quite easily get lost within my own thoughts and perceptions.

Though this may help me in some aspects of everyday situations, what one comes to discover in life is that there is a time and place for everything, and I think that this is not the time to have that kind of mindset in this place. Cano Palma is a place of teamwork, co-operation, and understanding; so if I want to fulfill as many goals as possible during my stay, it would be best if I open up and become comfortable with things.

Identify the problem. Want a desirable result. Find the solution and be determined to accomplish it. Simple.

So, as I put myself to sleep and prepare to wake up in 7 hours for my first ever turtle survey, all I can think about now is how excited I am to discover exactly what ‘this side of town’ has to offer.

Pura Vida,
Moi

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You Get What You Paid For.

I hate customs. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. But then… I like it too (to a different, smaller extent).

And yes; in speaking of customs, I finally commenced my travelling yesterday morning, and it really was nothing short of an adventure.

So, what’s the first stop of many to come in the near future?
HOTLANTA – formally known as Atlanta, Georgia in ‘the land of the free’, USA. I have never been to Atlanta before (or much of America, for that matter), and this trip holds the purpose of a vacation and exploration; so after non-stop working for the past two years, I figured this is a much needed stop.

A few glimpses of the first arrival..

A few glimpses of the first arrival..

The title of this post is “You Get What You Paid For,” and yesterday’s mobile fiasco was the result of just exactly what we we paid for. It’s not just about where you’re heading, but how you get there, and my family and I chose the cheapest possible way.

Now, often times, cheap can be good. For me, the motto is “Cheap IS Good.” But that motto was very much incorrect this time around.

We decided to take a Coach bus across the boarder and then fly out to Atlanta, which seemed simple enough. I was dreading the long and early bus ride initially, but found it to be quite convenient as I slept most of the way.

The downside to that was that I (being the meticulous, over-worrier that I am) packed a crap load of food in my knapsack to eat on the bus ride before the plane.

Never happened.

And this is where customs comes in. All went well when we were stopped and checked at the border; once we arrived at the airport, however, I knew that trouble was coming. Ever since the feathers of law enforcement officers and airport officials have been ruffled with by terror attacks and mischievous criminals, everything is a danger hazard.

I know they are doing it for my and everyone else’s safety, but when a girl can’t even bring her MinuteMaid cranberry juice bottle into the waiting lobby, it’s like the sun ain’t shinin’ no more.

Okay, so that may be a tad bit over-exaggerated, but the fact of the matter is that things have gotten so tight, my somewhat angelic mindset feels like I’m already a criminal even before I’ve been questioned.

Yet the craziness continued as we got onto our plane. The airline we took as part of our cheapest-way-possible scheme was probably the worst I have ever taken. No. It is the worst I have ever taken and will never take again (after I take their plane back home on our return flight; wish me luck).

The pilot was just outrageous (and possibly intoxicated) and I actually had a few moments where my life flashed before my eyes during flight (yes, I said a few; not one, but a few). When the plane landed, the aircraft slammed against the pavement and was literally still flying WHILE on ground.

If this implies anything at all, no one clapped when the plane finally came to a halt.

Still, I am very grateful to have made it out alive and to be here, in the wonderful state of Georgia, appreciating the gifts life has to offer. The vacation has just begun, but the adventure continues…

À la prochaine,
Moi

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