Jon Niconchuck

We got off the bus and wandered towards the exit, all of us still covered in sand and sunburns, groggy from the six hour nighttime ride back from the Pacific Coast to San Jose. The row of taxis was waiting, with drivers eager to charge a little extra for the tourists who didn't know any better. I hopped in front and the three girls climbed in back. "Tee-yen-A la mar-eee-la" was the Texas twang that came from one of the girls in back (la María is the pay meter in the taxis in Costa Rica, which the drivers is more than willing to leave off if you don't gently remind him to use it). I just looked back and then at the driver. "Aye Dios. Nos lleva a la Universidad Veritas, porfa. Gracias." And just like that, I somehow became Costa Rican. In reality, the four of us were all part of the CEA study abroad group heading back to our house, a.k.a Real World San José 2007. From the taxi driver's perspective, however, I was a tico (Costa Rican) who somehow managed to coerce three American girls back to my house. Naturally I decided to play along, using my lesson from the previous Friday's class on Costa Rican slang. I made fun of the stupid tourists getting off the bus, talked about Costa Rica, and generally pretended I was way cooler than I was or am. I don't think the driver ever caught on, but the girls just rolled their eyes and laughed at me as we got out. It is a strange feeling when you study abroad and they think you are one of them, especially when they think you really are studying a broad (or three).