vamos, vamos ticos...

Walking through the streets of San Jose throughout the day, it didn’t feel normal. People were extra friendly and jolly. Half of the crowds were dressed in red too.

It was the day of the World Cup qualifying game between Costa Rica and Honduras.

I met my sister’s boyfriend and his friends in front McDonald’s in La Plaza de la Cultura, and we were on our way. Every five minutes someone would pat me on the back or say something, because I was wearing my Costa Rica jersey. The streets were extra busy. At the bus stop there was a line that went on forever and was carefully guarded by police. When someone in a blue and white (Honduras) jersey walked by, chaos would erupt.

As we walked into the stadium I was a bit nervous, because I had been told by some classmates that the section that I was sitting in had the reputation of being insane to say the least. Before entering we had to put our coins in our shoes—they don’t allow anything in the stadium, including coins, because people would through them at the players on the field. Two hours before the game, half of the stadium was already filled with people on their feet singing and chanting. Many times the actual infrastructure of our section would sway and move with the crowd.

When the Honduran players were being announced, the announcer would say their first name, but it was impossible to catch the last name because it was drowned out with the Tico’s shouting ‘perra’ or bitch. Once the game started the energy in the stadium was out of control, in some ways literally—police having to break up/prevent fights, lots of middle fingers given and strong words said. But the best part was when Costa Rica scored (twice). It didn’t matter who you were surrounded by, everyone got a hug.

The game was an amazing experience. In many ways it was like what you see on the TV about Latin American soccer games. And did I mention that we won, 2-0? I’ll leave you with two victory songs…

Ole, ole, ole, ole, Ticos, Ticos!
Vamos, vamos Ticos. ¡Esa noche se ganará!