The heat felt like a thick liquid that I had to struggle through, and I was constantly tired. In school I was so bored I felt as though my head might explode. As the days melted into each other I grew increasingly frustrated. At home I’d volunteered for Youthline, gone to a queer youth group, joined a gym, and done some environmental work. In San Carlos there didn’t seem to be anything I could get involved with. I wanted to do some art, but the only art supplies I could find in town were coloured pencils. I missed the freedom of having a car. I missed the laid-back and open relationship I had with my parents. I missed speaking to anyone I wanted to in my own language. Most of all, I missed my friends.
During my last weeks in New Zealand a couple of my gay boy friends had dressed me up in their flatmate’s clothes, and smeared makeup in all the appropriate places. Dave produced a pair of glasses with black frames and plane glass.
“You look fabulous,” he exclaimed. “Don’t look at the bouncer, just look straight ahead. With attitude!” I was smuggled into Legends, hidden in the middle of a flurry of glitter, tight shirts and feather boas.
“You’re in, darling!” the boys grinned at me. “Oooooh, and that girl is totally checking you out!” Just then, the voice of Cher flooded into the room, belting out her new single, “Believe”. All the boys in the room squealed with delight. I threw back my head and sang along with them.
In Costa Rica, the song became an obsession. I lay in bed for hours, listening to the radio through my headphones. I couldn’t sleep until I’d heard Cher singing. “Well I know that I'll get through this / 'Cause I know that I am strong.”
There was never any possibility of giving up. I’d planned this exchange since I was 10 years old. We’d had an exchange student, Tomas, from Sweden. He’d lived with us for a year, then come back to visit whenever he could. My exchange was going to be an equally wonderful experience. I would learn so much, I’d love my family and they would adore me, and I’d explore the tropical paradise, encountering beautiful wild creatures that I would photograph and present back home.
Well, at least the last part still seemed like a possibility. I might have been trapped, but the wildlife was free to come and go at leisure. Toucans could be heard croaking in the trees near the school, spiders crept through the house, iguanas and armadillos basked in the park. I loved the armadillos, they looked a bit like giant rats. They waddled around in such impressive armour but seemed too quiet and lazy to fight. Armadillos have a habit of jumping up in the air if alarmed. The iguanas didn’t look like they were likely to jump anywhere, in fact, they didn’t seem likely to lift a finger. Some of them were more than a metre long; much bigger than tuatara. “But I bet you’re not as ancient,” I told one unresponsive specimen. Apparently they taste like chicken.
I started going for walks around the outskirts of the town, in an attempt to keep fit – and sane. The roads were ragged with potholes, and in some places the footpaths crumbled away. My ankles often collapsed underneath me, leaving me with grazed hands and ankles and a red face. I got bitten by some kind of insect, and the bites were huge and swollen for days.
The views from the edges of the city would have been fabulous, if I could see anything. The haze was starting to make me feel claustrophobic – I longed for a frosty morning when the mountains seemed to have been cut out with a new craft knife and held in front of the sky.
Posted by Fionnaigh at January 15, 2004 12:31 AM