I love
it here in San Ramon. I love the
location, my school and especially my family.
From day one they have all been so welcoming and inviting. They have always treated me like I was part
of the family and not just some volunteer living among them. I have a pretty big family, as my mother has
nine brothers and sisters, but there are only a few members that I see on a
regular basis. It has become apparent
that they love me, just by the various ways they show their affection.
My mother is a single parent with
one biological daughter, I say biological because she considers all of the
volunteers to be her adopted children and is quick to say it to anyone who
asks. She is probably the hardest
working woman I have ever met. She keeps
two houses on a daily basis; her own and that of her employer. In addition, on the one day a week she has
off, she can be seen at my grandmother’s washing dishes and sweeping. There is no doubt that my mother loves
me. I can tell by the way she feeds, or
rather overfeeds me. You see, my mother
shows her affection with food. If we
were to compare the plates that she fixes me to the porridge in “Goldilocks and
the Three Bears,” mine would be the equivalent of Papa bear’s, while hers is
more like the equivalent of Baby bear’s.
On days when I think I have outsmarted her and arrive as she is fixing
plates and can tell her when to stop, she continues to pile the food on, even
though I have clearly said “when.” Her
rational is that she is feeding me “con amor.”
I tell her that soon I will not be able to fit through the door. She says it doesn’t matter we can build
bigger doors. 
My little sister Daniela is a
fourth grader with a heart of gold.
Since she is an only child she loves having sisters. She has a great sense of humor and loves to
play jokes. After a few nights of
constantly being seen wearing a hoodie to dinner, she finally
caught on that I was afraid of the abejones; they are flying hard body beetles
in case you are lucky enough to have never come in contact with them. Well from that point on she decided that she
would torment me with these and all of the other bugs. I guess that her form of love involves
torturing her sister with bugs. She
often chases me around the house with these disgusting creatures. She claims that once I let one crawl in my
hand I will be cured of my fear, however that day may never come. Whenever one of us does something the other
doesn’t like we joke that we are trading them in for an animal. She is very aware that I may soon be getting
a horse. 
My Grandmother, Mama Tere is your
typical Grandma, she loves having everyone over and spoiling her
grandkids. There are days that I spend
hours at her house and she is still disappointed when I leave. She, much like her daughter, likes to keep me
fed. If I tell her I have already eaten
she usually gives me a sad disappointed look and I sometimes end up with a
plate full of food. My luggage is not
going to be the only thing overweight when I head back to the states. She is also very affectionate. I can’t sit down in her house until she has
hugged and kissed me three or four times.
When I leave I always receive the blessing and three more kisses. Even when I go into town on the same bus as
her I am given the same treatment. She
has no problem showing her love in public.
And even though sometimes I’m thinking, “Oh Grandma,” I am still happy
to have the attention seeing how all of my biological grandparents passed away
when I was little. 
My grandfather, Papa Dolfo is 80
years young and still works on his farm.
He grows bananas, among other things, and once he got wind that I love
bananas, there has never been a shortage.
He tells my mother to make sure she takes bananas to the teacher. Besides providing me with an everlasting
supply of bananas he also tells me stories.
He has a story for every occasion.
The problem is although I understand Spanish very well; I usually have a
hard time understanding him. He speaks
in a whisper almost and usually mumbles.
I can usually catch on to a word or two and play on those words by
asking questions. I laugh when he laughs
and am serious when he is, so he will never be the wiser, though his stories
seem so interesting maybe I will just have to try harder.
My cousin Mariel is a few years
younger than me, though due to the rapid maturity here in Costa Rica she seems
so much older. She is so caring and
includes me in everything, from joining the women’s soccer team to a 50th
birthday party for her boyfriend’s mom.
In addition, she never seems to be without candy, which she always
shares. There are days when I feel
sluggish, but once I see her and have my skittles fix, I am rejuvenated. I am sure sleep has the same effect, but
candy works so much faster.
My cousin Anderson is the cutest two
year old I have ever seen. His smile can
definitely light up a room. He greets me
in the morning with “Kana” and the biggest smile. He makes mornings much more bearable, I mean
who wouldn’t want to wake up to be greeted by that sweet little face. In the afternoons I am greeted with a big
embrace, well that is if he is in a good mood.
Yes, toddlers can be moody too. Apparently
his family teases him by saying how cute his little bottom is and how they are
going to get it and pat him on the butt.
As we all know, children are sponges, so his newest greeting consists of
a pat on my bottom. Maybe he’s showing
affection, or he’s noticing the effects of the extra pinto in the morning, who
knows, but I will be taking on the task of convincing him that hugs are much
better.
Finally
there is Andrea. She is my four year old
cousin. She is such a little old
lady. She walks into any room and wants
to know what you are doing and why you are doing it. One day I was baking a cake for a friend and
was having a hard time. The cake got
stuck in the pan and I had to use all the elbow grease I could find to try to
get it out. Andrea took one look at the
situation and proclaimed “Está loca.” To
this day I can’t seem to convince her otherwise. Whenever she sees me she smiles and tells me
I’m crazy. Although she may be partially
correct, I am hoping that she is just showing her affection.
Although I will always welcome the
hugs, kisses and stories, could probably use a little less food and candy, I would
like to think I am sane and prefer to omit the bugs all together; if that is
how my family wants to show me they love me, then I will take the good with the
gross. They are my family; I love them
as they love me and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world; not even a
horse.
