I thought I might give a brief, layman’s history of Costa Rica before setting out on more personal journal entries. I’m not really doing this for any purpose; I just know that this is a journal for prospective students, and I don’t think any of the previous journalists have really mentioned anything close to a substantial history. Feel free to skip this section if you are already familiar with the country. Without further ado here is: La Historia de Costa Rica por Gringos.
Costa Rica was originally part of the Spanish Empire. There were some natives tribes before Europeans, but no real civilization to be conquered. The Spanish at this point were looking for gold; a material which Costa Rica didn’t (and still doesn’t) have in the slightest amount. Spain (from your history class) subscribed to a mercantilist system with its core tenant of hoarding as much goal from the other European powers as possible. Costa Rica was therefore considered a backwater and forgotten. Spain didn’t really want it, the English ignored it, and the French didn’t even know where it was.
This was a fantastic blessing for Costa Rica, since it managed to avoid most of the problems heavily colonized countries have today. (Haiti and Jamaica leap to mind.) So it really was with almost no fighting and little fanfare, that Costa Rica became an independent country on September 15, 1823.
   Costa Rica now had its independence, but it needed something to bolster its economy. The newly independent populous turned to the most obvious source of wealth in the county; the fantastic amounts of bananas and coffee growing around the highly fertile lands around the volcanoes. However, infrastructure was an immediate problem. How does one transport these fruits to the coast for exporting? They turned to the United States for help. This, depending on who you read, was the best/worst decision the Costa Rican farmers could do. (I only want to touch on this point, since I will go into a history of the banana republics at a later date.) Regardless of consequences, Costa Rica soon became famous for its coffee and banana exports which it holds to this day. At this moment, with its famous democracy and ecological stance, Costa Rica is drawing many large corporations (notably in the tech and pharmaceutical sector) down from the States.
   Today Costa Rica is known for many things. It has branded itself with a free and easy style, called “Pura Vida,” similar to the island lifestyle in the Caribbean. It is a center for biodiversity and its ecological stance remains unparalleled. (In theory) It is predominantly Catholic with Mormonism taking a distant second. The country offers universal health care for its citizens, and has some of the best educational programs (up to a certain level) in the world. Finally, Costa Ricans are stereotypically seen as friendly people who generally like folks from los Estados Unidos (USA). (Again, this is not entirely true.)
   I’m sorry this was somewhat dry; I promise my next posts will have more flair.

Signing off,
Matt Whitworth

“You know that in ancient times, typhoid was referred to as the bone-breaking disease.” my doctor lovingly said to me weeks before the departure date.
“Hmmm,” I replied, eloquence not really being my thing when she was brandishing multiple needles in the same fist.
“You’ll have a wonderful time; just make sure you don’t go below the Panama Canal with out taking your malaria pills every second Thursday and the preceding Wednesday before you travel.”
“Ah,” I said, once again showing my finesse in the art of conversation. “But what if I forget about them?”
“Now hold still,” was her reply, injecting me with various infections. “Be sure to take your yellow fever pills with only lukewarm water or else the eighty percent effectiveness diminish to thirty percent. Any more questions? Good, that will be two hundred dollars.”
Candid expressions like these were old hat to me though. Everyone I talked to about Costa Rica vacillated along some type of extremist lines. My Mum, advisor, and European friends all told me how beautiful the country was, the intelligence of the populous, and how many elderly Americans had expatriated there already. My Dad, doctor, and American friends all told me tales of the gruesome Central American diseases, the poverty of San Jose, and gratuitous amount of prostitutes within the city limits.
These mixed messages were coupled with the fact that I really couldn’t speak Spanish. It was my fault of course; I dropped the ball so many times I was routinely picked last by every teacher Drexel has in the Spanish Department. Coupling this was the embarrassment that I was stumbling on a language that was so easy that many of my fellow IAS majors take Spanish as an easy A, to meet chicks, or just to have a break from all that strenuous Farsi or Mandarin.
But now, like prisoners on skid row, I’m at a relative peace with the whole process. I will be traveling into a far off land; trying to immerse myself in the culture while making a fool of myself in the process. Things really have worked out for the best. With shots in my arms and left buttock, gallons of sunscreen, and strict advice from my Dad to never go outside, I think I’m prepared for Costa Rica.
The litany paperwork and packing is over. I can sit back, and ruminate about the four months ahead of me. So, in a days time I will be studying at the completely legitimate “University of Latin,” to learn about Justice and Human Rights throughout South and Central America. Being a double major interested in these sorts of things, I will keep this journal up to date with a history of the area, people I meet, and thoughts I have along the way.
A precursory plan of attack will be to explore both the light and heavy issues of studying abroad. I’ll try to interview a native once every two weeks. I’m planning on visiting or possibly working in a factory and a banana plantation. I’ll visit both neighboring countries, Nicaragua and Panama, and try to describe the similarities and differences. I’ll touch on religion and immigration, mixed in with tourism and football.
Thank you in advance for reading and you’ll hear from me soon.

“Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.” - Hector Berlioz