by Nicholas James Von Pless, http://news.bbc.co.uk
Posted in on Monday, Apr 11
We’re all just stuck in this country, and that’s all we have in common. We don’t like the same music, don’t share the same political ideals, and back in the states, we might even dislike each other. However, in order to look past all of that, we just go on vacations with each other or go out at night to share the same drinks and joints. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
This is the life of an American student in Costa Rica. It’s like Bio-Dome, but in a real country with real experiences, and no glass door to walk out of when you need a break. Sure, we go to our classes, work with professors, and do whatever else is academically expected of us. But how do we pass the time? This is where the concept of transient friends comes from. The times we have are unforgettable, and that’s what is the worst part of it. When I remember getting lost in the Costa Rican frontier, or remember running away from an irate taxi driver who tried to run me over, I can’t reminisce about it with the people who shared those experiences. Instead, we forget the faces, we forget where they’re from, and we forget any possibility of seeing these people ever again. What’s worse is that in the last weeks of the program, we are strong, energetic friends. Maybe though, that’s because we know it is all ending, so we put forth our best efforts at friendship last. We work hard at friendships and finally wish each other good lives, promise to send pictures that will never be sent, and say “keep in touch” when we’re disconnecting.
Don’t get me wrong, though; this is what we all need. We could’ve all had no friends at all, knowing that they only had a shelf life of three months. I mean, I’m not going on any casual visits across the country to see some of these people, and no one else is either. However, it would’ve been awfully lonely had we not made temporary friends to share some of our greatest experiences with, and even some very embarrassing ones for some. In that case, you’d only want temporary friends to know about John* bringing home a prostitute, Jane* doing ten lines of coke at the beach and subsequently being rushed to the Red Cross at 3am, or even about Robert*, who picked up a prostitute, and didn’t realize the prostitute was a man until his hand was down his/her pants.
I wish I could’ve shared all of my moments with my closest friends. I wish we could talk about these experiences for years to come, but instead, now I am a storyteller. It’s all right, because I’ll never forget these times. I’ll always appreciate a time in my life where I met so many interesting people from Sweden, Norway, the Netherlands, Israel, Germany, England, Ireland, Jamaica, and even a 77-year old lady from my own hometown (oddly enough in Nicaragua), but now I will tell these stories from the middle of the room, instead of in a circle.
To state it simply, this is the lonely life in crowded surroundings. Living for the next phone call, the next night to go out, the next wonderful memory that we’ll all separately take home. It’s not that we’re sad, though. It’s not that I lie in bed second-guessing everything, either. I guess, it’s more of a “too bad”. Too bad that you’re not sharing this with loved ones back home. Too bad that these friendships are over soon. Too bad that you came here alone, and will leave the same way. Sure, we have email addresses, but how quickly do those lines of connection fade? How quickly will we just be happy to hold our significant others back in the states, and get back to the old routine with your best friends?
It’s like an episode of VH1’s “Where Are They Now?” except we don’t be found. We’re not famous. Our only claim is that we made each other’s time in Costa Rica what it was, and there’s something to value about that. There’s something to say about unlikely friendships in a foreign land. We’re all trying to have the best trip, and we’re all helping everyone achieve that. We live in different states and countries, voted for different people, hate or love sororities, and some of us straight up hate each other. But we’re in the same classes, we’re drinking the same liquor and beer, wanting the same great times, and just wanting to be happy. With three months in a sunny Central American country, we just simply don’t have time for anything else, than to just shake hands and make the most of it.
* - not real names
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