Did you know - when using a dough press to make empanadas, you need to separate the dough from the press with a plastic covering, or else it will PERMANENTLY stick?
Oops.
My friends invited me to make empanadas (secretly, using borrowed pans) in the dorms, and fully aware of my inability to cook, I sped over to help “cook” (eat) the savory, post-dinner treat. I had no trouble stirring the chili dip in the pan and kneading the dough for the shell. But I was a bit overconfident when I went over to the press. I asked my friend to record a video for my mom and effortlessly pushed the lever to flatten the dough (masa), but I knew I messed up as soon as I tried to open the press and it felt oddly glued shut. I peeled off the batter and re-clumped it into a zombie empanada.
(Lily’s Empanada-Making Demonstration - 07/15/24)
Believe it or not, my patchwork empanada is one of the more normal meals I’ve had recently. The entomology class went to the TicoFruit food processing facilities to learn about their use of biocontrols to fight citrus greening in the oranges they process. They raise parasitic wasps (Tamaraxia radiata) to infest the body of the disease-carrying vector Asain citrus psyllids instead of spraying toxic, ineffective insecticides.
Our class got an up-close tour of the insect-breeding and distribution process. We walked into a dark, curtained room full of swarming insects and gawked as we watched the workers vacuum the insects into stacked boxes the size of shoe boxes. When we reemerged back into the light, a cart with jars of wasp food (honey) and live wasp larvae was awaiting us. I was so confused when my friends started daring each other to try “it.” Who wouldn’t want a spoonful of honey? Was it contaminated or something? But then, our tour guide removed the lid of the jar filled with squirming larvae.
Ronal shook my arm and urged me to try one, but unfortunately (gracias Díos-thank God) I was vegetarian…
Equally unfortunately, my excuse (excusa) didn’t work, and when I finally gave in, Ronal placed a teeny worm in my hand. When he finished the countdown, I squeezed my eyes shut and involuntarily bit down on the larva, shuddering as I imagined its internal organs squeezing out.
(Poor Wasp Larva - 07/18/24)
I was glad to head back to the bus after to chug water and forget the sensation. Our next stop would be the Butterfly Conservatory (mariposario), a welcomed contrast to the insect breeding (and tasting) facilities at TicoFruit.
As soon as we entered the mesh dome, marveling at the flashes of colors and patterns surrounding us, a butterfly delicately landed on my cap (gorra). I felt really flattered that it chose me, and I think Ronal felt a bit jealous. As we walked around, he kept standing perfectly still and posing like a plant. His strategy eventually panned out, and he made his own butterfly friend.
(Ronal’s Plant Pose - 07/18/24)
Eventually, our guide signaled our class over to the backroom, filled with cases of wing colors ranging from iridescent sky blue to the dull white of tissues. There was one large butterfly with pole-like extensions attached to its bottom wing (ala). I imagined that these extra attachments would weigh the butterfly down, but when I asked its purpose, our guide explained to us that they were dispensable distractions meant to mislead predators (depredadores). The dazzling creativity of Mother Nature never fails to amaze me.
(Butterfly Super Wing - 07/18/24)
Our guide then asked us (agricultural students at a university named EARTH) what the difference between a moth and a butterfly was, and we all shuffled our feet, embarrassed because we kindd-of forgot. Turns out, it’s not only that moths roam the night and butterflies flutter through daylight. Another difference is that moths have an additional silk covering around their cocoon for extra protection, whereas butterflies do not.
I think insects here really enjoy my presence (a love that goes beyond fresh blood) because a few days later, a fly also approached me and flew into my nose to keep me company. I now understand Ronal’s pain. After a sneezing fit, the bug was expelled, along with a booger that remained on top of my nose for 10 minutes until someone signaled to me to wipe my nose after trying to explain what was wrong in Spanish. I now know “booger” is “moco.”
This experience made me reflect on the value of hand signals and gestures to make up for missing vocabulary. Applied Charades has helped me survive here. So many times I had no idea what the Spanish word meant, but it instantly clicked for me after a gesture.
But my most heart-melting interaction with a non-human being was with Atila, the dog of La FIO. After measuring my lettuce, I would always go to the bench to pet her and feed her endless compliments in Spanish (“Tú eres tan linda”=”You are so pretty”, “Awwww bonitaaa”=“Awww beautiful”). On my last work experience day, Fhernando and I went into the hut to relax with coffee for our break. Out of nowhere, Atila ran into the room and sat up in front of my feet. When I cooed and started petting her, she perked up and offered me her paw, knowing I didn’t have a crumb of food. It felt like a warm hug around my heart.
(Atila and I💕 - 07/16/24)
I feel loved and accepted by bugs, dogs, and humans. My lindos (lovely) friends Teresa and Josue took me to capture the richest, most refreshing coconuts (No one fell out of the tree). I took an extra for my sweet neighbor Noemi and Steven. We sipped our cocos as we trotted to the pool, joking and cherishing some of our last moments together. While quality time is great, I do think fresh coconut is the currency of love at EARTH.
I feel comfortable and true to myself at EARTH. I am used to the way of life (and my stomach is finally used to the food) but that does not lessen my adoration and love for it. As my time runs out, I will stay mindful of my gratitude and happiness here.
Last night, I went with Ronal to EARTH’s cultural showcase to watch our friends perform and enjoy all of the lovely sounds, dances, and colors. Towards the night of the night, the curtains closed for a few moments and reopened to reveal the EARTH band, a group of talent from many backgrounds (fondos). The drumsticks clacked a few times, and then a heavenly harmony floated off the stage into the audience. The lead singer instructed us to clap along as she hummed and warmly sang “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Beaming when I heard the tune, I swayed, clapped, and felt, surrounded by my friends.
EARTH is my happy place. And “Pura Vida” perfectly describes it.
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