Apartheid and a Drummer Boy

Today was the first day Maya and I navigated the bus system and San Jose entirely on our own, rather succesfully I might add. Well, despite the homeless man pissing on the sidewalk with his member in full view of anyone and everyone.... yeah, about that. Thanks for the show you dirty vagabond. We got to school and had our first conversation class before our standard classes, it was great, in fact I wish I was taking a few more weeks, maybe next year I will come for two months and become an expert.

I am beginning to form friendships with my other classmates, which seems quick to happen when you share the common trait of being foreigners in a strange place. Leonora, the girl from South Africa, and I have had a few good discussions about the politics of our countries, which is very depressing for me. I refuse to defend it, I am proud of my city, but not my country... Though listening to the gut wrenching stories from Leo make the problems in the US seem like Jerry Springer episodes. I will spare the details, doesnt need to be repeated. I knew a bit about Apartheid and events surrounding it but hearing first hand accounts is a completely different experience, very depressing. I look forward to hanging out with her tomorrow for some cervesas and conversation.

After school Maya and I went to the Museo de Oro Procolumbio (Museum of Pre Columbian Gold) It was beautiful. Along with the obvious there were exhibits on the history of Costa Rican currency, the history of stamps and letters in Costa Rica, and artifacts and history on the Pre Columbian natives. An older gentleman struck up a conversation with us and told us the following story, which I took the liberty of researching the facts for; Costa Rica declared independence as a soverign state from Spain in 1838, after which their only threat was in 1856 from an American adventurer, William Walker. He invaded from Nicaragua, which he had conquered the year prior, with a mercenary army. He had visions of turning Central America into slave states, fortunately the president, Juan Rafeal Mora, raised a volunteer army and ran them back into Nicaragua where they were met by various other armies from around Central America. It is said that William Walkers army sought refuge in a wooden fort near the border, where a poor drummer boy named Juan Santamaria volunteered to torch down the structure. He ran towards the building, torch in hand, and was shot multiple times and killed, but not before tossing the torch and succesfully burning down the fort. There is no way to know if all these events are true, but he is a national hero and every April 11th he is honored with a holiday. I found this to be a great story, but it was kind of embarrasing as well. Of course it was an arrogant American who tried to invade this lovely country. No wonder why the world looks so sourly upon us.