From this post on, I am officially a surfer chick.

That’s right, you read correctly. I now surf. And by this I mean to say that I took one surf lesson on Saturday, and it was amazing! But let me start at the beginning…

Katie and I escaped San Jose this past weekend and took a five-hour bus ride to Playa Samara, which is quite possibly the most wonderful place on Earth (in league only with Eleuthera, Bahamas and Prince Edward Island, Canada). The bus ride was long because buses here go pretty slowly on the hilly narrow roads, and also stop quite often to let more people on. I enjoyed the feeling of leaving the city behind and being able to see some more of this beautiful country. While we were driving, Katie said, “I may want my ashes spread here.” Her comment flashed me, as I looked out the window, to a conversation I had with my mom when I was about seventeen. I told her that if anything were to happen to me, she should know that I want my ashes thrown off the cliff on Lighthouse Beach in Eleuthera. Thinking about this, it struck me that for some reason I’d assumed she would be around to take care of MY ashes after MY death, however illogical the idea may have been of my dying before her. I guess the thought that I would spread her ashes felt foreign to me. It still feels foreign. The fact that she’s dead still feels strange and unreal pretty much all of the time, except of course for those moments when the realization that she is truly gone comes rushing over me at the most random times, like when staring out a bus window, doing my Spanish homework, or hearing some silly song. I relearn it over and over again, each and every day. Her absence is not yet one of those undeniable truths of my life. So I stopped thinking about ashes and instead finished reading my ridiculous romance novel, “Dear John.” I will say only this: I hope the movie version of this story with Channing Tatum is better than the book (and lets face it, Channing has the ability to make terrible movies amazing…not because of his acting skills).

Katie and I were extremely sweaty and happy to be getting off the bus upon arrival at La Playa. Playa Samara is a very small beach town that pretty successfully defines “tranquilo.” There are so few people who live right in the town, and the beach is never overcrowded, even on the weekends. The town has a couple of affordable yet clean hotels, a few little stores and tents where they sell trinkets, some restaurants and coffee shops, and a few surf schools and fun little beach-side spots (one with delicious fresh smoothies). When we first got there, the two of us dropped our stuff in our room, noting that white towels had been folded into swans and placed on one of the beds, along with some fake flowers (a romantic valentine weekend for us! Haha), and then we walked around a bit. The beach was simply sublime. We had a romantic dinner date on the beach ☺, enjoying delicious cocktails and grilled delectableness. A group of older men sat near us, who were on a friend adventure of their own, and they reminded me of my Grandpa Bob! They were happy and lively and enjoying their time together. After dinner we each proceeded to don floral sundresses, and then to realize that we’d both packed only floral sundresses and that it was very strange that we were going to be the floral sundress duo two nights in a row. Then we went to reggae night at a local bar, and had so much fun dancing the night away and people watching, making up stories in our heads about each of the people and couples we saw at the bar, then discussing them. Katie and I are very easily amused. Playa Samara has a TOEFL program right on the beach, so there are many students from all over who actually get to LIVE pretty much on the beach. Katie and I have considered researching this more thoroughly, so we can rearrange our plans a bit and become true beach bums. What is quite certain is that Playa Samara is home to many hombres muy guapos (very handsome men). Katie and I didn’t actually SPEAK to any of them, of course, but we enjoyed imagining that one would be my surf instructor the following day. Don’t think we don’t know that we are slightly pathetic, because we sure do.

The next day, the two of us hit the beach and sunbathed. We chatted, read books, napped, and Katie made fun of me for spraying myself so often with sunscreen that she insisted I would actually be WHITER upon returning from the weekend then I’d been upon departure. But I was worried about burning!! I do not enjoy being burned. We also took advantage of our leisurely time on the beach by making a list in my journal of all the things we wish to accomplish during our time in Costa Rica. I will not share this list with you, as some of these things are embarrassing and/or ridiculous, or possibly chistes. But it was good to get them down on paper. The items on the list range from ‘drink straight from a coconut’ to ‘bungee jump.’

At one point as I lied there, two men rode by on beautiful horses, offering a horse ride on the beach to the loungers. I thought again of my mom, as I often do when I see horses, and about how I know she would have definitely taken the time to come visit me here. She’d have loved to see all the exciting things I’m doing, and would have been up for anything, no matter how long the bus ride, how sweaty and dirty the trek, how rundown the accommodations. Sometimes these moments, these thoughts, are happy and sad at the same time. These days, most things happy are also sad.

My surfing lesson was unbelievable! My instructor’s name was Christian and he was born and raised in Samara. He began by showing me how to hop up onto the surf board, which, let me tell you, is a FAR easier task when you’re safe on the sand than when you’re actually moving on water. I did well with getting up quickly on the board, and I believe it was due to my years of working at AER and taking the occasional free yoga class ☺ Thanks Bas! When we began to make our way into the water, I realized that there’s a lot to surfing that you don’t think about, like simply getting yourself far enough into the water with the gigantic heavy board to avoid the crashing waves, and keeping yourself from tripping on the cord attached to your back ankle, which was clearly an issue for me in particular since I tend to find ways to fall down when I’m just standing still on solid ground, no strange cords involved. In the beginning I think Christian thought I was a bit weird, because I kept cracking chistes, but then I think he began to thoroughly understand and enjoy me. We were floating in the water, waiting for my first wave, and I saw a really amazing surfer riding a wave expertly and doing cool tricks, and I turned to Christian and said: “So, I assume I’ll be able to do that by the end of our lesson, right? I expect to get my money’s worth.” He then began to enjoy me.
So I stood up on my first wave!!! And pretty much all of the ones after that. I’d like to point out, however, that just because I stood up, this doesn’t mean I STAYED up, and most of my rides did indeed end with me flailing about and falling, as you will see for yourselves if you wish to watch the videos Katie took of me with her camera, which I’m sure she’ll be putting up on Facebook soon enough. Katie is a HUGE stalker, which I realized upon finishing surfing and discovering that she’d been hiding behind a palm tree taking pictures of me practicing standing up on the board in the sand, and then proceeded to photograph or videotape essentially every moment of my lesson in the water. She is a gigantic creep. But I love it and her, because now I have evidence of how AWESOME I am. Katie said she had to explain that she actually knew me to an old couple who were watching her suspiciously as she hid behind the tree taking photos of me.
After Christian and I exchanged some more chistes in the water and he felt like I was comfortable enough with the process, he left me on my own to catch a few waves. I missed him immediately because he had helped me choose the right waves!! That was sort of half the battle. That and not chickening out when I felt like the wave may be just a bit too big, or that I wouldn’t be able to get my awkward body onto the board properly in time to catch one. But I rode a couple successful waves in, before becoming thoroughly exhausted and returning with Katie to the “pool” (cold bathtub outdoors) at our hotel to get some sun and enjoy afternoon Diet cokes. We spent the next few hours laughing and no doubt bothering each and every person staying in our hotel because neither of us have the tendency to speak in quiet nor dulcet tones, and then we had another floral-dress clad romantic dinner date. My arms had already begun to get sore at that point! I hope you all know that when I return from my time in Costa Rica, after having surfed almost every weekend, I will be seriously jacked. And did I mention a much cooler person, due to the surfing? So I’d advise against messing with me ☺
Sunday we spent as much time at the beach as possible, and then sadly boarded another long bus ride back to San Jose. As soon as I walked into the door of our house, Maybell smiled and gestured towards my face, saying “Muy roja!” And I was under the impression I’d gotten a nice, even tan. Perhaps my life really is one big chiste. That’s all for now!
Love,

Xtine (surfing extraordinaire)