...to the Customs Place I Go!
I received a message from customs the other day. They were writing to notify me that my boxes had arrived in Costa Rica, had been cleared, and were ready to be picked up. Yesssss!
One of my new co-workers, F, offered to drive me in the school van to the customs office in Zapote to pick up my boxes. On the drive to Zapote, we enjoyed a pleasant chat about our hobbies and what brought us to this school. And then, we arrived at the customs office.
Honestly, I don't remember all that went down. All I can say for sure is that four hours, six lines, two trips to the ATM, and 23 passport verification form-completions later, F and I left the customs office victorious after wresting all of my boxes from the depths of that place. On our way out to the van, the bookety rogue wheel fell off of the handy shopping cart lent by a kind customs agent, a feral-ish dog peed on one of the boxes, and the skies opened up so completely that there are no words.
Now I have my stuff, and can finish setting up my apartment and classroom. And let me just say, I'm 100% positive that the Mickey Mouse hand pointer and bedazzled "Brain Sprinkles Shaker" (a.k.a. decorated old Pringles can) I shipped the 1,500 miles from Texas to Costa Rica are going to help my students reach new levels of academic success.
Ok, maybe not. But when you're far from home, sometimes it's nice to have a few reminders.