Right now, as you read this, someone in Costa Rica—most likely a foreign man—is walking down a street in agony. This man has just bought a pair of shoes from a local zapateria, and the agony is because they convinced him that all would be bueno if he bought the size 44 shoe for his size 46 feet. This man, exhausted after having visited a few dozen shoe stores, finally relented and forced his foot into a shoe meant for a man with slightly smaller feet. Every step produces a wince and the beginnings of a ripe and bloody blister.
There’s a feeling that can quietly creep over us and which is painful, but also kind of unique to each of us, which makes it even more powerful. I’m talking about being lonesome. Some sounds and musical efforts to explain this isolating and singular sorrow do better at defining this very un-definable word than words ever could. Musical sounds that can’t be described very well but we all know what they ‘feel’ like. Lonesome is the sound of one trumpeter playing taps in a quiet graveyard. Lonesome is the sound of an unseen paddle wheeler blowing its steam whistle to warn other boats on a foggy and dark Mississippi River. Lonesome is a train whistle somewhere in the distance on a hot summer night. Lonesome is Carlos Santana’s distinctive guitar echoing through a hushed and reverent stadium before the rest of the band kicks in. Lonesome is hearing two coyotes (some Native Americans called them ‘song dogs’) singing to each other across a vast mountain meadow. Lonesome is the sound of a frightened kitten abandoned in an urban alley. The great and often troubled Hank Williams wrote a song called I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry in the 1940s that perhaps says it best:
Hear the lonesome whippoorwill, he sounds too blue to fly. The midnight train is whining low, I’m so lonesome I could cry. I’ve never seen a night so long, when time goes crawling by. The moon just went behind a cloud, to hide its face and cry. Did you ever see a robin weep, when leaves begin to die? That means he’s lost the will to live—I’m so lonesome I could cry. The silence of a falling star, lights up a purple sky. And as I wonder where you are, I’m so lonesome I could cry.”
By Lexi Baca
Spokesperson for KSTR (age 12)
Two years ago, my family and I moved to Costa Rica from California. We were ignorant. Foolish. Selfish. Just like many of the people here for the first time. We went for kayak rides, and following advice from our tour guides we reached out eagerly with a piece of fruit in our hands, waiting for the monkeys to come down and grasp it in their tiny paws. We were unaware of the fact that it’s harmful for many reasons to feed wild animals, both to humans and the animals. We didn’t appreciate our flora, pulling at its leaves and trampling it with our sandal-clad feet. Most of all, we let things happen. We watched, but did not know what to do about it. Until we met someone who did.
51 lb World Record Snook on a 15 lb line
By Sarah Munro
Sometimes awesomeness just happens. Sometimes it doesn’t. Take this for example—I’ve booked inshore fishing with Roy Zapata (local/international fishing legend), and always knew in the back of my head that it was possible to catch a world record fish. Why not, as Roy has brought in world record fish before. And when he was chartered in my tournament last year, it was Roy that took Papa to ‘the spot’ and brought in a 77 lb grouper, the tournament winner. Roy is indeed a legend. I’ve had my fair share of fish when I go out with him—last time we had 8 different species of fish in one day. No world record, but just try and go and do that yourself. It’s one thing to write it, it’s quite another thing to do it.
By Shelagh Duncan
I know, we tell ourselves “We live in paradise—what’s there not to be happy about? The resulting guilt because we don’t feel happy can just make things worse.
If you believe that our homes are an extension of who we are, we have somewhere to start. But if we are not happy in ourselves, how can we be happy at home? Perhaps we can change this up, and make our home a happier place to be so we, in turn will feel happier. Can this be possible?
What we do within the space we call home—both inside and out—shapes our mood, affects our productivity, and influences our outlook on life. The colours we paint our walls, the textures of the fabric we use and even the artwork on our walls can all influence how we feel. But without redoing our interior design and buying all new furniture what other options are there?
The Best Job Ever
By Jack Ewing
“The biggest caiman in the swamp always takes possession of the pool that surrounds the area where the cattle egrets nest,” I told the guests. “Whenever a clumsy egret chick falls in the water he grabs it.”
We had been observing a nesting site with hundreds of cattle egrets. It was nesting season and the small island of woody shrubs was full of egrets. It was located in a large open pool in a mangrove estuary. The egrets loved it because predators like raccoons, and coatis wouldn’t cross the water to get to the nests. I assumed they were afraid of the caimans.
¡Hola amigos! ¿How are you guys doing? ¿Did you watch the five previous videos? I hope you did!
This month, I am gonna share with you more of the links of some of the most inspirational TED Talks I have watched about learning languages.
Some of them have influenced me and/or my methodology of teaching, some of them (quite my favorite ones) have changed my point of view about learning languages and/or why to learn languages and even better some of them influenced my point of view about life, traveling and being a human…