They say that somewhere in the world we all have a doppelganger; some long lost twin that possesses very similar characteristics, abilities, etc. Unfortunately the closest you will probably get to finding your double is when your cousin’s best friend’s aunt Karen sees you at the supermarket and says, “Oh I totally saw your twin at Wal-Mart yesterday.” At that point though, you will have completely forgotten the sweet doppelganger fact because you’re trying to figure out how you know this weird lady with the alligator purse. Either way, you’re probably wondering what any of this twin stuff has to do with my mom (see title if you are completely lost). Well as fate would have it (actually God, but fate sounds more poetic), I have met my real mom’s doppelganger here in Costa Rica. In fact, we live in the same house, and she considers me her second daughter. That’s right people, my host mom is in fact my real mom’s long lost twin…(stunned gasp from the audience)! Allow me to explain:
I have three solid pieces of evidential support (that’s for you Julie) that will prove the legitimacy of my claim:
My host mom (and my real mom) are awesome cooks, and they have servants’ hearts.
My real mom is an amazing woman. She and I have different personalities, and other than our red hair we don’t look much alike, but I love her so much. Something I really appreciate about her is her endless desire to serve others. She goes out of her way to make sure others are comfortable and content, and she really loves people wherever they are at in life. Beyond all this, she cooks SO WELL! I’m actually getting pretty hungry just thinking about meatballs, roast chicken, stuffing, chocolate cake, and much more. For some reason though, she won’t let me in the kitchen…probably because I am cursed with mediocre cooking skills…ha ha just kidding, but seriously.
And now onto her twin…From the first day I moved in with my host family, my host mom has been nothing but welcoming and loving towards me and my piece-meal Spanish. She is constantly reminding me that this is my home and that I am a part of this family. I could never have guessed how amazing of a host family God would bless me with! Much like my real mom, my host mom is always cooking awesome Costa Rican dishes for me: gallo pinto, pescado, carne con salsa, y mucho mas! Now I’m hungry all over again…dang it. Also, she won’t let me help in the kitchen either. Do I have a sign on my forehead that says: “Beware Mediocre Cook”? Oh well, I’ll just be content with eating for now and maybe later learning the secrets of a Costa Rican cook.
My host mom (and my real mom) have a very specific way of doing laundry that I will never be able to figure out.
So, the other night I decided that my overflowing laundry basket was starting to smell, and I asked my host mom if she could show me how to do laundry here (yes it is more difficult than throwing it all in the washing machine). Around 7:00PM we headed out to the garage to defeat the smelly pile of dirty clothes. The following confession is true and embarrassing so feel free to make fun of me as you wish. As we approached the “washing machine” I began to panic because 1.) I had never done laundry in Spanish before and 2.) the “washing machine” looked quite a bit different than what I am used to at home. My mom started filling the machine with water (manually with a hose) and then put some soap in with my clothing.
- That wasn’t so bad…until the clothes were done being spun around in the soapy water. My mom then began to pull the soapy clothes out and put them in the sink next to the machine. She told me what to do in Spanish, but I was so mesmerized that I couldn’t understand what she told me to do. So instead of turning on the water to wash out the suds, I stood there staring at the bubbly clothing, hoping that maybe little woodland creatures would come finish my laundry for me. The happy, singing creatures never came, so eventually I turned on the water and began rinsing the clothes with my left hand (holding the hose in my right hand). I must have looked really awkward because after about 3 minutes of watching me butcher her laundry system, she asked me if I was left-handed (or better translated: Did you eat paint chips as a child?) Ok, not really, but I could tell I was not being as efficient as I could be. The next few moments are all a blur in my mind. What I can tell you is that after my host mom stepped in, my soapy clothing went from sudsy to bubble-free and finally into the “clothing salad spinner” as I like to call it. The clothes were hung up in no time after they went through the salad spinner, and I am proud to say that I am currently looking at piles of clean clothes scattered around my room.
My host mom (and my real mom) have the same, unique telephone ring-tone.
My real mom loves the song “I Just Called to Say I Love You” by Stevie Wonder. She loves it so much that she has it as her cell phone ringer.
Imagine my surprise Sunday morning when the phone rang in my host family’s home and Stevie Wonder was singing a hauntingly familiar song. When I asked my host mom about it later, she said she heard the song one time and absolutely loved it, so when she found it as a ring tone option she chose it.
The longer I live with my host family, the more I am realizing just how blessed I am. Not only do I have family and friends back in the U.S. that love me, but I also have a new family in Costa Rica that is allowing me to be a part of their story for the next three months. Life is good, and I am so very blessed (even though I can’t do laundry). Thanks for your continued love and prayers—keep it up!
Until next time…
Also, sorry about the weird numbering…something isn’t working right…oh well.