Friday, February 18th: Part 2 - It’s a Charmed Life….

umm...now do you get it?

Reggae Night-- Sarah and Emma (TEFL friends)

at Mama Africa! (from left: Aryan, Jessica, Kelly, Amanda, Max, Jenny, Kristen)

Last night we left you with a chilling cliffhanger… you may recall we were headed home in preparation for our first Reggae night. I’m sure the suspense has been killing you, and we apologize if anyone lost sleep from all of the overwhelming anticipation. So we’ll just pick up where we left off…

Upon arriving home we blankly stared at our empty refrigerator containing eggs, cheese, and bread. Naturally Jenny made it work. We ate our sandwiches (egg and cheese, if you couldn’t piece that one together) and hung out with the oldest and most loyal addition to our twosome, Op (you may know her as Oprah). After yet another intense episode, we found ourselves deep in philosophical conversation (don’t laugh, that wasn’t sarcastic, geez). Beginning our day as zen yogis must have stuck with us, because 3 hours later we were still deep in our inner exploration chat. It was one hell of a therapy session, and even more importantly we still weren’t tired. We got ready super quick and set off for town. We met some friends, the TEFL grads, at Mama Africa and finally introduced ourselves to the owner- Andrea. She made us a delicious cocktail and we headed to Reggae night down the beach at Tabunuco.

The last couple times we’ve been at Tabanuco, we have been having such intense dance parties that we haven’t quite taken the time to really observe the scene. So we did a bit of that, in between our dance sessions of course. Our former TEFL class was out on the town finally and we ran into them, which was fun, but re-confirmed how happy we are with our decision to have quit. We have had so many fun experiences here that we couldn’t have had sitting in school. Alright, alright…and there is a strong chance our particular class may have had one too many dudder sandwiches for lunch, also reconfirming our great decision to be beach bums like our bud Keith (refer back to TEFL class rundown featured in “Ultimate Quitters”). Anyway, back to Reggae night… after everyone we know decided to call it a night, we found ourselves taking a dance break on some benches. It ended up being quite the social scene and we made lots of new friends- many of whom were “Rastas”. The people here are all so fantastic, so every time we end up surrounded by a new group it’s a good time. While Jenny talked to the Rasta bartender from Mama Africa (whose dreads were piled into his huge red yellow & green knit cap) Kelly befriended the local DJs, all of whom sported Bob Marley tanks, board shorts and dreads. One of these DJ’s decided Kelly looked like a great candidate for tomorrow nights DJ and told her she could pick the tunes at Tabunuco. At this point Kelly was absolutely convinced she had found her calling: the first female Rastafarian DJ from Louisville Kentucky, well to our knowledge at least. This plan paired very well with Jenny’s previously discovered life goal of opening a delicious quesadilla stand (see parents, we told you we were figuring stuff out!) Our conversations with Ticos are always in some sort of Spanglish, which makes for some entertaining chats. Not sure if we are saying what we mean but we make it work.

After our Tico friend fest we decided it was time to check out a new scene. We walked out of Tabunuco and ran into Glen, the guitar-yielding owner of Arriba from Nebraska, who said he was going down the beach to Bar Olas. This is usually our daytime internet spot that blares all kinds of throwback jams - people we Skype from here can attest to the totally random playlist. On our walk to Olas we bumped into Aryan, one of the former TEFL grads we hang out with – he is quickly becoming one of our Samara favorites. Although he is dark enough to be a Tico, and is mistaken for one often, he is actually from NYC - His dark complexion comes from his Colombian mother. He is a ball of fun with a great sense of humor and a serious love for all things New York, hair gel, and army camo. Naturally Jenny immediately liked him due to her past, and totally underrated, army camo phase (you may recall the neon gym shoes that accompanied this). Aryan was on another level when we ran into him, and a fun looking level at that. Olas was totally dead, which is normal with the exception of Saturdays when it teems with Ticas (Costa Rican girls), just about the only time you see them in a social setting. We stood and chatted with Aryan as he perched on the wooden fence surrounding the bar. Suddenly, in the midst of a subpar Goldmember impression, both of Aryan’s legs flew over his head and he backflipped before thudding into the ground and rolling out of his ungraceful fall….hilarious. Well for Kelly and Jenny at least, not so hilarious for his totally bruised tailbone.

Hysterically laughing at Aryan we worked up a serious appetite and decided it was a totally appropriate night for a post-bar snack. The sketchy carts around town that sell random chicken breasts and chorizo sausages to drunk tourists were closed by this time so we realized it was probably pretty late. In case you haven’t noticed we never know what time it is. Neither of us have a watch and we don’t carry our cell phones here. In Aryan’s words “the time doesn’t matter”…which is slightly ironic as he sports a huge blinging watch at all time but refuses to inform anyone of the time. We walked with Aryan, well actually he stopped and chatted and we decided we were having way to much fun in our own world to wait for him, so we maaayy have left him behind. We walked home totally wired and still high off the glory of this wonderful day. Only one downfall, we had totally convinced our tipsy selves that we were starving and couldn’t sleep without a snack. We had cereal but no milk, bread but no peanut butter, and we were both pretty adamant that we had eaten enough eggs to last a lifetime. Then, the most clutch thing that has ever happened to us occurred. Remember at the beginning of this stupidly long blog post when we ate breakfast at Carola’s and met Carola herself? As we walked past her spot we saw her up for the day and making bread and jam for the market. She noticed that we may have been ever so slightly over served and offered us chocolate filled sweet bread - what a glorious fateful event!! We have never been more convinced that everything happened for a reason. This was our favorite day ever in Samara. We had bonded with old friends and made new friends, explored our inner zen yogis, had an epic cultural breakfast experience, laughed all day, surfed successfully, ran on the beach, dance partied like crazy, laughed more, and eaten the most delicious post-bar snack in existence. We were totally buzzed on positive energy (and maybe a few cocktails) when we collapsed into bed after our 20 hour day.