Welp. I’m officially here at Hotel Brio, Playa Gigante. Um… yeah. Huh. I’m not sure what to say.
My ride here with Rob fell through because he somehow missed his flight due to an airline cancellation. I got this message last night when my shuttle driver showed up at my hostel at 10:00. I was in bed. So, when the owner summoned me to the front, I was a little out of it and also, incidentally, wearing bright green boxer shorts. He told me he would come pick me up tomorrow at 10:30. I didn’t quite get what he said, due to my just woke up Spanish skills, but basically I understood Rob would not be meeting me the next morning at 8 at Kathy’s Waffles down the street. Suffice to say, after several complicated and confusing steps, I got a Paxeos shuttle directly to Brio due to Rob’s arranging (cost: $60. sucks. getting here in one piece, with all my crap: priceless).
I arrived to a deserted Brio around 1. Juan, the manager, met me at the steps and gave me a tour of the place. I’d say he’s mid-thirties. He’s really nice and easy to talk to, and we hung out in the main room for a bit just chatting. He’s happy that I speak Spanish, as apparently some of the volunteers that have been and gone didn’t speak a lick. My room is teeny tiny, as expected, and I’m sharing it with three surfers/volunteers, as expected. But, I guess as typical dudes, they are…um…messier than I am. There are no shelves or places to unpack. I’m officially living out of my backpack for the foreseeable future, in a corner on the floor. One of the guys, a Costa Rican, leaves on Tuesday and doesn’t seem interested in chatting. The other two are nice? I think. John, the cook-volunteer, was really nice and made me a grilled cheese. They all came in at the same time, from surfing, along with all the guests of the hotel. I feel like an interloper into this surfers paradise. I don’t speak surfer. I sort of hovered awkwardly when they all arrived, as I’m still doing now. I’ve been hovering awkwardly for about two hours and it’s exhausting. I didn’t want to whip out my laptop or book too soon (anti-social) but… I got bored. And felt I looked a little silly just sitting there staring into space. The surfer guests wandered in, and I wasn’t sure if I should introduce myself to them, so I did the first few, not sure of who they were, but then ran out of steam. Right now, a group of Aussie surfers are crowded around a computer looking at surf pictures. I count 4 butt-cracks. I don’t get this place quite yet. As of now, I’m… out of place.
On the bright side, it looks as though I have plenty of English students. In fact, everyone’s super excited that I’m here, which makes me feel special and like I have a purpose in life. Juan went around town and collected a list of names of folks interested in English, and it has 40 names! The others who work here, apart from volunteers, are Jacquelyn, 23, and Ana, 20. They walked part-way down to the beach with me, and seem very nice and want to learn English. That part looks very hopeful, and it’s already more organized that I expected. I want to get to work to have something to do.
The ride here was beautiful. It’s so green–the color seems to buzz. The humidity makes everything a bit fuzzy and calm. The beach is also beautiful, warm and surrounded by more green. More on the area later because I’m not up for it now. I’m going to go hover awkwardly some more, and attempt to be a non-shy and friendly individual. Tomorrow I will write and be decidedly more optimistic.