Exotic

I've lived in Costa Rica for most of the past 17 years, having come with a college program in 1989. I'm pretty used to it here, and don't consider it exotic.

Once, at the airport on the way home after a visit to the States, we got to talking with a couple who were on their way to Jamaica for their honeymoon. Before long, we found ourselves saying things like "Wow, Jamaica. You're really lucky. That sounds soooo great." Oh, wait. We live in Costa Rica ourselves. We are, in fact, on our way there right now. Right. Never mind.

No matter where you live, there you are. Whatever it is you see every day, that's Normal.

Palm trees? Dime a dozen.

Iguanas? Not up on my mountain (too cold) but, sure, a lot of places they're the local version of squirrels, just a little slower up and down the trees.

Monkeys? OK, only at the beach and yes, I do still think they're kind of cool. (But not really part of my immediate reality, so I don't have to be blasé about them. You can't make me.)

Bananas (growing by the side of the road, that is), mangoes, papayas (eeew), avocados, star fruit, and waaaaaay more varieties of citrus, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy? Ho hum.

But you know what still gets me? All these years later, I still think it's totally cool that flocks of Amazon parrots fly wild over the park and perch on the eaves of the local church.

Look at me! I live someplace exotic!