This is the second time that I've written a post for today. The first time was this morning, when I spent about a half an hour writing a fairly long and detailed post... And then the computer shut itself off and everything was lost. I must admit, I was pretty angry. It's taken me most of today to get over losing all of that post, much of which I felt was quite good. Anyway, I'm going to try a second attempt, and make sure I don't hit any of the little buttons on this keyboard that like to turn off the computer suddenly...

Today has been mostly a battle with the heat here in León. I really became aware of how hot it is here yesterday, as I only arrived in the late afternoon Saturday and it wasn't particularly hot then. The thing about León is that it is quite hot, quite possibly 100 degrees or close to it, and the humidity is quite high. Now, one must remember that Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere; there's no air conditioning. This makes for a rather miserable day if you are a newbie and don't know how to work around the heat and adjust. And I'm a newbie.

But the heat brings its own lessons. For example, it taught me the value of siestas and minimal clothing. After my little incident with the computer this morning, I was quite upset and the heat didn't make things any better. I eventually went to eat lunch and read a copy of the New Testament that I had bought that morning. About that: After all of my thought about Jesus and what he means to me, I found myself a little bit disappointed by the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus sure seems to talk a lot about Hell, about separating out the wheat and burning the chaff, about the Day of Judgement. That kind of language doesn't fly with me at all, but Jesus sure seemed to be quite into it. I don't know what to make of Jesus, frankly.

But back to the heat. I found myself, after my meal, sitting in a café drinking hot coffee and trying to write something, trying to elicit some bit of inspiration from my heat-stroked brain, but I just couldn't do it. I finally gave up and went back to my hostal. I put on a bathing suit and sat in a hammock. At first I tried to write, but soon gave up, realizing the futility of any action in that heat. I finally collapsed and slept for a couple of hours in the hammock.

When I awoke, the air was much cooler and the light outside was less intense. I woke up and, despite the fact that I had fallen asleep on a fairly full stomach, I felt very good. I got up and put some clothes on and headed out to a café I had visited last night and which I had enjoyed. I had dinner there, a falafel, coffee and hibiscus tea. It was quite expensive by local standards, I won't eat there again, but it was nice for a one-time thing. Now, having had that nap and awaking to a somewhat cooler environment, I feel notably better, both physically and mentally.

Today I learned some important lessons about the heat, about taking shelter when things get extreme. Siestas are essential. I think I'm going to take one during the hot part of the day as long as I remain here, because I think I fare a lot better by avoiding that part of the day altogether. I also learned about loss today. I learned that, as stressful and upsetting as it is to lose a big chunk of my writing, there's always more where that came from. I just needed to cool down (literally and figuratively) and come back to it. Although, I must point out, my readers are indeed deprived of a story about my trip to the meat section of the market today...

Life keeps being unpredictable. After writing my entry yesterday, I went and had a light lunch and then headed back to my hotel. Upon entering my room, I found a note from César and Felix, indicating that they had left. Upon inspection of their room, next door from my own, I found that they had indeed cleared out that morning. This was disappointing, as I had wanted to talk more with César, as well as having him teach me how to sew. In fact, it would be accurate to say that my reasoning behind staying in Masaya for longer was to interact more with César.

When I found the note, I immediately began to pack my backpack, and within fifteen minutes I was paid and out the door of the hotel. I made my way to the bus station and took a couple of buses, through Managua, and up to León, where I am now.

A note about Managua: Horrendous. It was, without a doubt, the ugliest city I had ever seen. To make matters worse, a man on the bus thought it'd be a good idea to give me a lecture of how dangerous the city was right as we were arriving. My bus from Masaya just dropped me off in the middle of a busy intersection. Of course - it would be too simple to have a central bus station. I had to catch a taxi to go to another part of the city to take a bus to León. And, of course, the taxi driver brutally overcharged me (at least double the normal rate), but I was too tired, off-balance and eager to get out of Managua fast to put up a fight. Good for him, I suppose; he grinned as I climbed in.

Anyway, I arrived in León around five 'o clock yesterday afternoon and, after checking into a hostal in the downtown area, went and found a chinese restaurant, where I had some really good (and cheap!) shrimp chop suey. I spent the rest of last evening just kind of wandering around and enjoying the night air. I sat down in the park and talked with a woman who was sitting on the same bench as me. She was from a town in the South of the country, but worked in León. I had a good time talking with her; it was the first interaction that I had had with a Nicaraguan in a long time that didn't involve a monetary transaction.

I'm planning on spending at least until Wednesday here, although I may stay even longer if it turns out to be interesting. After that, I'm off to Estelí. What I'm working on right now are my notebooks - freestyle writing - and a book that César gave me, some compiled texts of Simón Bolívar. So far, while they are very interesting historical documents, I must admit that I am not entirely impressed by Señor Bolívar. He seems to be quite authoritarian, saying at one point that the first independent government of Venezuela made a mistake, "founding their policies in a misunderstanding of humanity, not authorizing the government to make free by force those peoples that are stupid and fail to recognize the value of their rights."

Genius. In other words, it's the job of the government to force the people to accept their "liberties..." He also goes off about how peace-time governments should be lax and liberal, but how during war, all laws should be ignored and the government should be a tyranny. Ironic, this point, considering that most of Bolívar's admirers would certainly be opposed to the Bush Administration, which is acting on this very principle. The paradoxes of Latin America... Always an education.

I woke up this morning to the sound of blaring "romantic" music, again. I thought it was coming from outside, so I got out of bed and headed around the block to talk with whomever it was that thought everyone needed to hear romantic pop music at 7.30 in the morning. Unfortunately, I soon realized that the music was coming from inside a house, so there was nothing I could do. I talked with César and Felix, who live in the room next to mine, and they say that the music stays on from early in the morning throughout the day. It makes me wonder what type of people need constant noise, constant distraction like that. Are they afraid of a moment in silence?

Yesterday evening was quite enjoyable and "signful" here in Masaya. I was thinking seriously about leaving today in the morning, but now I think I'll stay until Monday. Last night I went and hung out with César and Felix and we talked about a lot of things, mostly about travelling and how we want to live our lives, and about being artists. I felt that I was not an artist, but wanted to be one, and they said that I am an artist, because I write. I guess the difference is, they are able to sell their art (jewlery, etc.) in order to stay nomadic, while my "art" is without cash value.

Last night, I began to realize how much I want to live like César does. I would like to be as free as he seems to be, nomadic and without any fixed home. All that he owns he carries on his back, and he makes his way in the world selling his art (I bought a bracelet from him at a much higher price than I would normally pay for such things... But it's a really good bracelet!). I realized how tied down I am by my own possessions. I have material goods sitting, useless, waiting for me in THREE COUNTRIES (Costa Rica, Mexico and the US)! I would like to reduce my baggage, most of which is books. Books, so precious to me, are weighing me down. Anyway, I hold César's lifestyle up as my "ideal" in this moment.

One big reason I want to hang around in this town for the next couple days is to spend a bit more time with him. He said he'll teach me how to sew today, which I would like to know how to do, so that I can make some things for myself. If I had more time, I'd ask him to teach me how to make jewelry like he does, although who knows if he would accept? Many things to think about...

Waking up today in the city of Masaya, I heard the horrendous romantic latin pop music blaring outside. I came to consciousness wondering who in their right mind would actually listen to that cloyed garbage for pleasure. After a breakfast of oatmeal (raw. I like it that way) and a banana, I took a cold shower (but suprisingly not murderously cold) and headed out for a stroll. I left my hotel at around nine 'o clock or so and headed over to the Mercado de Artesanias just to see what was going on over there. All of the vendors were putting out their merchandise and cleaning up. I guess that not too many foreigners come in to buy that early. I get the impression that most travellers don't spend the night here in Masaya. I, however, am very glad that I've chosen to hang around here for a couple days. After walking around for a while, I went and drank about four cups of coffee (at a dime a cup, one can afford to indulge) and wrote in my Spanish notebook for the rest of the morning. Near the end of my writing, a begger came and asked me for a cup of coffee. After a minute of hesitation, I asked him to take a seat and went and got him a coffee (at a dime a cup, one can afford to indulge). I continued writing and the homeless man ate some bread he had with him and drank his coffee. After a few minutes he finished up, thanked me, and was on his way. This set my mind thinking about all of the Bible reading I had done growing up. I started thinking about the Kingdom of Heaven. I don't think Jesus was talking about the afterlife. The more I think about it, the more I believe that he was refering to a living set of relationships, a state of being here on Earth. It seems to me that this "Kingdom," this way of life, is a permanent Jubilee, in which one relies upon God (whatever that means) for sustenance, and not upon the dominant society/culture. There was a reason that Jesus insisted that all of his followers rid themselves of their possessions. There was a reason that he said the rich could not "enter the Kingdom of Heaven." After a lot of thought, I even think there might have been a reason that he let himself be crucified. Maybe life itself can also be a "possession." Maybe one has to rid oneself of a sense of ownership of anything, even one's own life, to enter the Kingdom. Perhaps Jesus' vision was to move human beings out of a defensive state of protecting possessions and into a state of embracing life itself. It's the difference, I suppose, between experiencing and owning, loving and claiming.

Today I made my way to Masaya, and it was quite the journey. I took the bus this afternoon and had a little run in with the guy who collected the money. You see, just to be sure, I asked another passenger if they knew how much the bus cost to Masaya. He told me that it was ten Cordobas. When the guy from the bus came around, I handed him his money, but he demanded fourteen Cordobas. I double checked with the passenger again, and then told the money collector that I believed that the price was ten, and that's what I was going to pay.

So he said "fourteen," again. At this point, while not becoming angry, I did begin to become a little more bold. "What, is there a separate price for white people?" The man went about collecting money from the other passengers and then headed back up to the front of the bus. I couldn't help but smile, as I remembered a scene from a Mexican film I had recently seen in Monteverde. A Gringo tries to trick the main Mexican character out of money, and the Mexican in turn pulls his own trick. Driving off, the Mexican laughs, saying (this is a very loose translation) , "the Gringoes want to fuck us over, but we Mexicans are the biggest fuckers!"

Anyway, I got to Masaya and asked where the market was, because Masaya's main attraction is an artisan's market. Unfortunately, I didn't specify that I was looking for the artisan's market, so I ended up, with full pack, in a fairly poor area of town at a large open air market. I felt a little bit vulnerable, walking around with my big travelling pack, being the only white person within a square kilometer. Walking out of the market, someone threw a rock at me, hitting me in the leg.

But I took a taxi (for 30 cents!) to the artisan's market and found a cheap hotel (3 bucks a night) where I think I'll stay at least for a couple of days. Transit wears me out.

Today, I make my way to Masaya. Granada has been fine, but I'm saving my high hopes for Leon, which is supposed to be quite a bit more culturally inclined, more refined, and more "liberal," whatever that means. It was/is one of the primary sites of Sandinista support. Granada, on the other hand, is the center of Nicaraguan conservativism.

Speaking of conservatism: Yesterday I read the local paper, La Prensa, and saw that a large group of poor people had occupied big stretches of land that belonged to rich people, saying that they were supported by the FSLN (Sandinista Liberation Front). While one can see the point of view of the landowners, it is really hard to have much sympathy. They are complaining to the government that their property rights are being infringed, which they certainly are, but it seems to me that these poor folks without a home are having their human rights infringed. On the other hand, I was appalled to read that, apparently, some of these folks had cut down thousands of trees on the land that they were occupying. One might argue that these rich people were essentially holding these lands in reserve from the "development" that we environmentalists so despise.

It's just a very complicated situation, and I would not pretend to have easy answers. Back in the old days, I probably would have just said, "well, screw these rich people, give these folks a place to stay." But I see now how complicated and dirty all of this can be. I don't necessarily support the right of the rich to hold the land from people who have none; on the other hand, I don't support the poor moving onto a piece of land and chopping down all of the trees. It seems to me that neither party has real respect. Ultimately, I withhold any judgement, because I really don't know anything about Nicaragua.

That's something for me to work on. I have a great tendency to form opinions about things that I don't really know, or about which I have only limited information. I am pushing myself to withhold judgement whenever possible, because making a decision about how I feel or what I believe puts me in a less flexible position. Once I've decided my stance, it's more difficult to see new evidence with an open mind.

Today witnessed a very sad event: My friends, Sacha and Gabriella left Granada on their way South towards Costa Rica. I'm now all alone, which is quite a different feeling, I must say. I've spent today just writing. I went out to the market and bought a couple additional notebooks, and I now have three. I devoted the two new ones to English and Spanish, the third one now being solely for French. This afternoon I wrote a great deal in English and Spanish, as well as some in French.

I ran into a traveller that I met in Monteverde today, on the street here in Granada. I met him at the beginning of my adventures and had spoken to him about "following the signs" during a trip, that is to say, going on "feel" as to where to go and what to do. Today he told me that there was a festival tommorrow in Masaya, a nearby city, and that I should go. "You've gotta keep following the signs," he reminded me. I had almost forgotten about that conversation, so for him to bring it up now definitely seemed like a "sign" to me.

So, I suppose the plan for tommorrow is to catch a bus to Masaya and check out that town for a day or two. Granada has failed to impress me greatly, so I'm pretty ready to move on.

Today the Quebequois couple and I took the boat from the island of Ometepe up north to the old conservative center of Granada. We've just arrived in town and checked into our hostel. The big planned event for tonight: Pizza. We've gotten reports of a pizzaria here that makes the kind of fare that "could sell in the States." So, we're determined to check it out.

The boat ride was good. Despite horror stories about it, I was able to get some sleep in and enjoyed the somewhat bumpy ride. It is true, however, that the boat is most certainly from the times of the Great War and would sink if the crew did not constantly pump out water by hand.

Ok, this report will be short, as the internet here costs more per hour than my hotel room.

I spent the last couple days on another side of the island, one day hiking up to a big waterfall and the other pretty much taking it easy. I've had a lot of hammock time. This time on this island has given me a good amount of time to figure out what it is that I want to do with this time I have down here. I've decided to go through Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador. If I have any extra time, I'll go down briefly to Panama to see the Canal. I'm rescheduling my plane ticket for mid-April, so I've got a little bit of time to play with.

Today I'm in Altagracia, one of the two "big" towns on the island. From here, I'll go tommorrow with a couple from Quebec to Granada, the old conservative center of Nicaragua. It's a five hour ferry ride, which I hear is a bit rough and uncomfortable. I'll give you updates on the other side of that ride.

Today was a lazy day. I was very sore from yesterday's adventures, so I just took it easy, relaxing in a hammock and planning my future adventures. I think I have the first leg planned at this point, and know what I'm going to do here in Nicaragua on my way to Honduras. I'm going to hit West Nicaragua on the way north and then hit the English-speaking Carribean on the way back South. I haven't made any other decisions, however; and, of course, everything is subject to change. I think I'm going to spend more time in Nicaragua than in any other place, however.

I think I'll spend one more day where I'm at, and then start moving around the island for the rest of this week. Within a few more days I may begin thinking about leaving the island. But there's still plenty to do and experience here.

Today was definitely an adventure, although one that I hadn't really counted on. We took off today to climb the volcano. The volcano on our island is the smaller of the two, and dormant, Maderas. I hadn't counted on it being such an arduous trip, and I didn't pack very much food. We headed out at about eight o' clock and got back at about four thirty.

On the way up we saw (and heard) monkeys and birds. We saw some incredible views of the island and of the other volcano from about halfway up. The journey was quite arduous, consisting of us climbing rocks, tree roots and mudslides for about four hours on the way up. My shoes and the bottom of my pants were completely encrusted in mud within a couple of hours. We finally made it to the peak, and then began our descent into the crater, which consisted of climbing down a sheer drop, holding onto a rope that our guides had set up (pretty much the only service that they provided).

Arriving at the crater lake, I must admit being a bit disappointed. The lake itself was not that impressive, and it was not geothermal, so almost no one wanted to take a swim. However, it was pretty cool to be standing on the inside of a volcano's crater and looking out on the crater rim from the inside. My companions had brought very little food, so we split a bag of oats that I had carried up, as well as bumming a can of tuna off of other hikers. The oats really hit the spot and I did not have to deal with hunger pangs after that.

The way back was, in some ways, more painful, but also quite fun. It was tiring (and, frankly, dangerous) to go downhill as we were, with constant fear of slipping and tumbling down the rocks below. I eventually lost all dignity, slipping and having my pants completely covered in mud, but, at that point I didn't care. I didn't care because I was in a state of euphoria, talking to a man from Quebec, in French. It was the first real conversation that I had ever had with a native French speaker, and it went really well. We talked about Quebec separation, the history of the English language and the relationship of different languages... In French. I was pretty stoked.

Anyway, I got back, finally, completely exhausted and muddy, and convinced that I had done enough for one day. I have spent this evening thus far eating dinner, having a couple of beers and speaking in French with the Francophones here at the hostel I'm at. I'm suprising myself at how well I am able to communicate. They have to take it very easy on me and have patience, but I'm actually able to communicate myself, and that's really thrilling. I'm more convinced than ever that I would do well spending a half year or a year in France or Quebec, after which time, I have no doubt, I would speak fluently.

Today was delightful. I went out with my two traveller friends, on foot, to the beach. They swam and I sat in the shade and read and wrote in my journal for hours. After that, we went out to eat at a nearby restaurant. I treated myself, big time, and ordered two main dishes. I ended up spending over five bucks for my meal, which, if you haven't been to Nicaragua, is quite pricy. But that was fine; I felt rich today.

The wierd thing about this place is that you feel like you're on the ocean, but it's actually just a huge lake. So, you get wierd scenes, like sitting on the beach and having cows come by and drink out of what looks like the sea. I took pictures, and they're kinda trippy, because you don't normally see animals drinking out of the "sea." And the volcano; I got some great shots of the volcano. It was puffing out little clouds of smoke all day and just generally looking regal.

At at least one point during the day, I just looked at my companions and exclaimed: "We're on a volcanic island in the middle of an enormous lake in Nicaragua!" They just nodded and smiled.

This post will be brief, simply because the internet access where I am is very limited (see expensive), as it is only available through satelite. But, there's so much to tell!

I arrived last night on the Island of Ometepe on Lake Nicaragua. I crossed the border with two other travelers, a young woman from England and a young man from Belgium, that morning and we proceeded to the island as fast as we could. I had a couple of mishaps along the way: First of all, I lost my Nalgene water bottle at Nicaraguan Customs. I suppose it was bound to happen eventually, as I was always carrying it by hand and really didn't have a place for it in my bag. It's sad to lose it, but I'll live.

Secondly, and more annoyingly, I accidently withdrew around 300 US dollars, because I misunderstood the exchange rate! What makes this even worse, is that Nicaragua is an extremely poor country, and money goes an extremely long way here. While that's good, it also means that I'm carrying around half a year's salary for plenty of people, I'm sure, which makes me nervous. Additionally, I'm surely going to lose a lot of money in changing the money to dollars at the border.

But other than that I'm doing fine. We are staying at a hostel on the far side of the island, which is full service and quite cheap. A meal is 1-2 dollars, my dorm bed is 2 dollars a night. The most expensive thing is internet, which is 4 dollars an hour. In this half an hour I'm spending online, I could pay for another night here at the hostel.

The island here is absolutely beautiful and I'm seriously wishing that I could extend my plane ticket so that I could spend more time in Nicaragua (I'll look into it). After Costa Rica, and its controlled, tourist-centered environment, I had forgotten that places like this existed. This place seems so alive in every sense.

If you're curious about where I am, go look it up on a map. Find Nicaragua, and then find the biggest body of water there. There's an island in the middle, and we're on the Southeastern side of it.

I'll send more updates as I'm able, but I'm loathe to use the internet, considering the relative expense.

Well, I headed up to Quaker Meeting today. There were quite a number of people there, probably close to fourty or fifty, although I think about a quarter of us were visitors. I talked briefly with several members of the Meeting, including with one old man who was one of the original Quaker settlers here in Monteverde. He said that a lot had changed since the old days, and that the community was much less tight-knit now. I noticed that most of the non-visitors were Baby Boomers or WWII generation.

I tried to check out the position at the school, but did not have much luck, as the school's director was at the beach. I talked with a couple people on the school's board, however, and they said that the opening was for August, for a variety of positions, teaching grades 5-8 (yes... middle school!!!). The people I talked to said that I should email the school's director and look into it, although they said that I would be teaching English and Social Studies, since I am not a native speaker of Spanish and the kids are.

I was a little bit disappointed in the reception I got at the Meeting. I have to admit that I expected to be welcomed in, maybe even shown around town, maybe even given a place to stay. But I guess it's a bit much to expect from a Meeting that recieves so many visitors. Just cause I say I'm a Quaker does not mean that they are suddenly going to drop everything to take care of me.

When I got back to my hostel, I ran into a guy who told me that three other travellers were headed out tommorrow for Lake Nicaragua. I saw this as a sign, so I am keeping my eyes open for these travellers, and I will see if I can travel with them. It is always cheaper to travel in groups, and I would not say I mind company.

We will see what happens.

I'm done with the TESOL course, passed with flying colors, and now I'm in Monteverde. I came here pretty much with the sole purpose of going to Quaker Meeting and seeing what's up with that community here. The town itself is very touristy, although I don't dislike it, actually. I've found that here in Costa Rica, for some reason, I don't mind being a tourist. I guess it's because I don't really identify as Costa Rican, while in Mexico I do identify with that country.

Anyway, I got here at around noon today, after spending the morning travelling here. Because the roads are so bad and the bus system so terrible, I paid a premium rate to take a private service that takes you by bus to a lake, then across the lake by boat, and then the rest of the way by van. It's about half the time that it would take going only overland.

Once I got here, I had lunch and then picked out a hostel to stay at. It's a nice enough place. This town is absolutely crawling with foreigners, so the whole town feels kinda like a hostel. Once I had settled in there, I asked about where the Quaker Meeting was. It turned out that it was quite a ways away, but I decided to take the walk and go see the Meeting House.

Well, an hour and a half later, I finally arrived. The way there was quite rugged, with extremely sharp hills, and I actually passed the turn for the Meeting House, so I probably walked an extra kilometer that I didn't have to. But, finally, after a couple hours of walking, (as well as knocking on farm house doors to consult the locals) I was there. I arrived at the Quaker school. Strange thing was, no one was there. I was able to browse their library and wander through their campus, but there was no one present. It was kindof an odd sensation, like being in a real-life version of the computer game Myst, in which the whole game consists of walking around in buildings and places that have no inhabitants.

But, although the school was not occupied in that moment, it certainly had regular visitors. It looked quite active and well-maintained. There was a message board in front of the principal's office, which I checked out. And upon doing so, I saw something that interested me greatly. Recently posted was an advertisement for a Spanish and Social Studies teacher for the school, to start immediately. The requirements were: Degree in either Spanish or History (of which I have BOTH!), a two year commitment, and two years of teaching experience. Well, I don't have nearly that much teaching experience, but in every other way I'm the ideal candidate for the position, I feel.

I'm going to Meeting tommorrow morning, and I'm planning on looking into this job. In all likelihood they won't want me, but the way I bumped into this advertisement, just after having graduated from a program to teach me how to be a teacher, feels a little bit like fate. However, as I don't believe in fate, I'm not expecting anything. But, I must admit, I am excited.

The course is, for all intents and purposes over. I have one very minor assignment left, and then I'm through. My plans are, currently, to head to Monteverde on Saturday and then attend Quaker Meeting on Sunday. After that, I would like to head up to Lake Nicaragua and spend a few days on a large island, formed out of twin volcanos, that exists in the middle of that enormous lake. The lake itself is, perhaps, 100 miles long and 60 miles wide, making it the 3rd largest in all of Latin America. I am sure it is the largest in Central America.

After my trip up there, I believe I will make my way back to the school here to pick up some excess luggage, including my plane ticket, and then I will head to San Jose to fly back to Mexico. I am looking forward to this fairly brief opportunity to explore this part of Central America. And I am also definitely looking forward to getting back home, to Mexico. I have missed it a great deal since I left, especially since coming here to Costa Rica, and I am eager to return.

For some reason this computer won't let me put headlines on my posts, as you may have noticed from the last one as well, but it'll have to do for now.

Anyway, I've finished up this week of classes, and now only one final week of this TESOL training lies ahead of me. I've got two more practice teachings to do and a couple more papers to write and a portfolio to organize... But the light at the end of the tunnel is getting bigger and brighter!

I'm really looking forward to getting back to Mexico. However, I've still got a couple weeks after the course ends to putz around in Costa Rica, so I'm thinking I may head up to Lake Nicaragua. Before I do that, I'm considering heading to Monteverde for a Sunday and attending Meeting there. I assume they still have Meeting... I miss Meeting. Which leads me to another thought:

Note for my father: When you read this next time, would you mind passing this link on to Heartland Friends for me? Some Friends might find this little record of my journies and queries interesting... Mabye.

Anyway, I have a lot to think about right now. The future of my budding teaching career, the future of this trip here in Costa Rica, my future situation in Mexico City, and the present must be accounted for as well! I'll be in touch.