I know that milestones carry far too much significance for me, but that knowledge never stops me from caring. Last Sunday was no different, as I “celebrated” my one year anniversary of arriving in Costa Rica.

Individual days seem to have passed slowly enough, but last January 6th merely feels like a distant yesterday. I distinctly remember the smell in the air, the [relative] heat, and the jittery excitement that coursed through my body that day. My first views of the Central Valley and its beautiful mountains are gloriously haze-free in my mind’s eye. I can still feel the terror of speeding along my first Costa Rican road in 7 years, with a taxista who seemed afraid of nothing at all. And seeing my apartment with my own two eyes, instead of through the photos I had poured over for months, is a moment that I will never forget. Indeed, the details of that day are as clear to me now as they were when I woke up on January 7th, 2007.

But no matter how well I remember that day, no matter how close it seems to me, I cannot deny the changes that a full year has brought. I came back to Costa Rica not knowing how long I would stay, having little idea of what awaited me, and very unsure of my Spanish, my self-sufficience, and even myself. Though I doubt that anyone ever knows herself entirely, I can state with certainty that I am much more self-aware than I once was.

There are few things that would test my character more than moving to a new country, throwing myself into a foreign language, and jumping head-first into a different culture. In many ways, my background in anthropology and Spanish helped my adjustment, but they also created a sense of false confidence. Though I was likely more prepared than many who make the move, every moment in my new home taught me something new. Most of these lessons were novel and exciting, grounds for funny stories I would tell in the future, but some truly tested my patience and fortitude.

On the lighter side, I now know how to make worm-free cas juice, I can effectively remove a tarantula from my home with only a Tupperware container and a few sobs of fear, I know to automatically translate a tico’s “puede ser” as a polite synonym for “no,” and I can throw a coherent, quite effective tantrum in Spanish. But I know also the frustration of being on the receiving end of prejudice - how it feels to be taken advantage of, charged gringo prices, hated for something my president did, and outright ignored because of an ugly stereotype.

A lesson I’m currently learning is how to not let this affect me. Racism, hate, and prejudice exist the world around and letting these attitudes hurt me only gives them momentum. On a good day, I remember this. On a bad day, my Spanish tantrum skills come in handy. As with everything else that I’ve learned here, this lesson is having its ups and downs, its struggles and victories. This one will take awhile, and in the meantime I do what I can to have power over my own situation.

Despite the downs, in actuality, I feel more tica than gringa now. Of course, there are things about me that will likely always remain gringo, but everyday I feel a slightly weaker tie to my U.S. roots. Spanish rolls off my tongue almost as easily as English, and some say my accent is hardly noticeable (though I don’t believe them). I toast my tortillas on the stovetop and I think it’s funny when tourists eat gallo pinto for anything other than breakfast. I think cumbia music is awesome and the way that ticos dance it is far better than the traditional Columbian style. Throwing toilet paper in the toilet is weird, though there’s nothing strange about washing my dishes in cold water.

I used to doubt that I’d adjust enough to feel truly comfortable in my tico surroundings, but with 367 days under my belt, I know that I’m well on my way. In fact, in perhaps the biggest indication of my shifting identity, whenever the mercury dips below 23 degrees, I get so cold that I swear my toes are going to fall off.

Forgive the lack of prose in this post - I’m very busy, under a mountain of work, but I just wanted to give you all an update on my Macbook saga.

It is the hard drive. For the second time in ‘07, it has crashed and burned, taking everything with it. Not even a byte of info to be recovered. That’s okay though, as I have my most important files archived onto an external hard drive. Beyond the immediate hard drive issue, the problem was that I had a lemon. Yes, had. Hold your horses.

Apple’s official policy is that they will not replace a computer until it has had three major failures under-warranty. A borked keyboard, though it rendered my computer unusable, is not considered major, and so I therefore only had two majors. Furthermore, all work on the the Mac had been done in Costa Rica, where the computers apparently don’t sync records with the U.S. You may see where I’m going with this.

I called Apple U.S., sure that I would get further with them than with Apple Costa Rica. I had bought my Macbook in the U.S., the warranty was U.S. (worldwide usage), and the U.S. is more focused on customer service. It’s a cultural thing. Anyway, I fired up Skype, which threatened to bring the P3 Dell I’m using to its knees, and called the Apple 800-number (haha!). After sitting on hold for 20 minutes, unable to work for fear of crashing my writings, my phone call, and the computer in general, I began to chat with a nice man named Landus. I explained the problem to him, told him why I wanted a replacement computer instead of a replacement hard drive, and he said “no problem,” off in search of Someone In Charge who could order me the new computer. After another 10 minutes of holding, which brought the call to a full 1 hour, 10 minutes, the line went dead. Breathe, Erin, breathe.

I called back, waited on hold for another 20 minutes, and began a chat with Webster, who wasn’t quite as cheerful as Landus. Or helpful. He told me “no, sorry.” I said, “Put me through to your supervisor.” Supervisor Chris came on the line and for 25 minutes, treated me as only an asshole can, explaining that he didn’t care that I was out-of-country, used my computer for my job, and was being subjected to torture because of an assembly-line failure that smelled distinctly of rotten, lemony Macbook. Furthermore, he didn’t have any repair records from Icon (Apple Costa Rica), and even if he had, they’d be in Spanish, which he doesn’t speak. So sorry, he absolutely wasn’t going to help me. I tried staying cool as a cucumber, even tried pouring some honey on, but he didn’t care. I told him I wanted to speak with his supervisor. He said he was it.

By this time, I had been on the phone for about 2.5 hours, and was nearing tears of frustration. I just wanted a Macbook that worked. That’s Apple’s reputation, after all. So I told dear Christopher to transfer me to someone with a heart. That’s when Marlene at Customer Care came onto the line. In the first accented English I’d heard all day, Marlene asked me to detail the situation. I did, again. She explained, also again, that Apple won’t replace a product that’s only had two major failures. I asked for her sympathy — nay, I begged for it — and told her that in Costa Rica, parts and installation take about 6 weeks. That’s 6 weeks without my Macbook. 6 weeks on a PC. She caved.

Marlene called me “honey,” she identified with what it’s like living in a new country where things don’t work the way you’re used to, and she understood that a Macbook just shouldn’t work like this. After another hour on the phone, Marlene had ordered me a new computer, sent a shipping label to my email, and was clearing up the situation. Since I’m going back to the States for Thanksgiving, a brand new Macbook will be waiting, equipped with a faster processor than the one I already have and supplemented by all the original upgrades I ordered. The computer will come equipped with Leopard, iLife ‘08, and all the new goodies that Macbooks come with these days. It has a brand new warranty on it, which is quite convenient, given that my previous warranty was set to run out in a few weeks. Furthermore, Apple is sending me that Macbook before they even receive the old one… when I get to the States, my new Macbook already awaiting me, all I need do is affix their prepaid shipping label to a box, call the courier, and have them pick up the lemon at my doorstep.

Lemons happen, I don’t fault Apple for it. What matters is how customer support issues are dealt with after a problem has been identified. On the exterior, my 3.5+ hour story of woe may seem painful, but let’s face it: no computer manufacturer wants to replace a $1800 piece of equipment. But with a bit of patience and a lot of perseverance, Apple did it. Try getting that from a PC manufacturer.