So my daughter says to me as two women pass us on the street:

Hey! They’re speaking English. We’re not the only one’s that speak English in Costa Rica.

This morning at the bank, I tell her as we dodge speeding cars along the side of the road, every person in the bank was speaking English.

Silence.

What did the people say?

I don’t know. But isn’t it amazing how much English you can here spoken now.

Now this is where I tend to get in trouble. I continue on as though my daughter is 27, not 7. It’s a sign I’ve been hanging around children way way too much and am a little desperate for converstion.

How many people were in the bank?

Not that many. I was close enough to hear that everyone was speaking English. I spoke Spanish though.

How could you speak Spanish?

Well it’s a Spanish speaking country, so I spoke to the tellers in Spanish.

Who tells them?

No, the workers. The workers speak Spanish.

I thought you said that everyone was speaking English.

Who’s on first? I said.

Silence.

What’s first mommy?

Who, I said. Who’s on first.

Silence.