"Possibly the single most significant aspect of my experience in the Costa was the chance to touch and see and smell and hear everything I've ever learned about Ecology from a textbook in Morris.", Kari Simmelink

When I was in high school, I began to realize that the U.S. was not the center of the world. It was not the most important country in the world, the richest (whatever it means to be rich), or even the most heavily populated. I realized that it was not the most beautiful or the most interesting country. It was just one country. When I realized that in the 17 or so years I'd been living on the earth I'd experienced only a mere fraction of my world, I felt a kind of moral obligation to live outside of the suffocating familiarity of home. At that point in my life I didn't know where or when; and I didn't know the impact the decision to live abroad would someday have on my career, I just wanted to "spend time somewhere else."

By the time I was halfway through college, most of the students I knew that had gone abroad had taught English or studied language and literature. I was discouraged to hear that "science majors don't study abroad." Although in retrospect I feel that any abroad experience would be worth frivolous credits, I was fortunate enough to stumble across CIEE's Tropical Ecology and Conservation Biology program in Monteverde, Costa Rica. The more I read about the classes I would take--Tropical Community Ecology, Tropical Diversity, Humans in the Tropics, Spanish--and the opportunity I would have to propose, conduct, present and potentially publish independent research, the more I realized how congruent this would be with my career goals. It seemed that not only would I have a mind-expanding cultural experience, but an intense academic experience as well.

I couldn't have been more fulfilled. CIEE's program in Monteverde is blessed in many ways. First, with a beautiful host country that happens to be full of a tremendous amount of biodiversity to study (and lots of beaches) and second, with passionate professors and scientists, both native and foreign born, to study under and alongside.

Possibly the single most significant aspect of my experience in the Costa was the chance to touch and see and smell and hear everything I've ever learned about Ecology from a textbook in Morris. I believe that the academic passion I brought back with me is a direct result of speaking with the scientists whose papers I'd read and sleeping in the research stations where their studies were conducted. Allowing students hands-on experience such as this is a very powerful tool.

But maybe more importantly was the time I shared with my Tican mom and dad and my four-year-old brother in the rural valley of San Luis. I may have realized years ago that the majority of the world doesn't share my American values or food or clothes, but I didn't understand the implications of that fact. I didn't know how funny or helpful or strong Tico farmers are. I didn't know how easy or frustrating or silly their Spanish is. I didn't know how delicious their rice and beans and fried platanos are or how breathtaking their Cerro Chirripo is. The most interesting part is that after I've lived abroad and had literally hundreds of "cultural" experiences, I still don't know what the countries of 95% of the worlds population are like.