Green gringa turned tuanis tica

Yesterday we got a preview of the rainy season—diay! Thank goodness I bought the suggested poncho that covers both you and your mochila (just call me green gringa). Besides the pre-poncho wait at the bus stop, I actually enjoyed the tormenta. It reminded me of rainy summer days at Drakes Island in Wells, Maine, when we would make a fire, bundle up in sweats, and play round after round of Chucks (six rounds, two decks= great rainy day game! Stay tuned Tico 19ers…) It felt nice to come home to Río Conejo yesterday after four days in San Joaquín de Tuis near Turrialba. We had our site visits last weekend and split up the fifty two of us to quedarnos with current volunteers in all parts of the country to learn about their regions, communities, and projects.

I was thrilled to have the opportunity to visit a friend from Fordham who, por casualidad, has been in Costa Rica with the Peace Corps in Rural Community Development for nearly a year. While we were merely acquaintances at Fordham, with a number of mutual friends from Buffalo (here’s to Thursdays in the square ha), when we met at the bus station in Turrialba it was as if we were mejor amigas. Turrialba is the perfect sized city- it felt comfortable, safe, and familiar; however, at the same time, it had all the features of San José or cualquier ciudad- a farmer’s market, plaza, coffee shops, restaurants, rafting shops, even a botanical garden. It was here in Turrialba where I used my first coconut bowl and coconut spoon to eat the famous ‘dulce.’
The ride to San Joaquín de Tuis was memorable for a number of reasons. First, we boarded what looked like an abandoned school bus brought out for Halloween. The mood was lightened, however, by the blaring radio, offering a play by play of the partido de fútbol contra México. Initially, as we traveled further and further from Turrialba, all green, untouched hills, I was overcome by a feeling of claustrophobia. I don’t know how to explain this other than that I felt like we were traveling deeper and deeper into nature and for a short while I found it difficult to breathe. I think this was a combination of the impending darkness, the loss of my bearings, and the absence of street lights. Anyway, when we woke up in San Joaquín de Tuís the next morning, I welcomed the fresh air, warm sunshine, and breathtaking view. We were anything but alone and lonely.

Sunday, we walked over an hour on what appeared to be an untouched trail to attend a rally against a proposed hydroelectric dam in Río Pacuares, which is known for its rapids and fresh, clean water. Following the rally, everyone was invited and encouraged to walk to the river to make our own dam! Old, young, extranjeros, indigenous, men, women- all splashing, swimming, jumping, laughing, chanting. Pura vida. Other highlights of the weekend included invitations to attend a meeting of the road committee in a neighboring town, a women’s group meeting, and a meeting of the local development association. I was extremely impressed with the women of San Joaquín de Tuis. They were well organized, supportive, respectful, creative, and motivated. Women brought homemade crafts including woven baskets, knit swimwear, and a piggy bank made from paper mache. Surely there were a few dominant voices; however, they made a conscious effort to solicit for the opinions and impressions of the other members. It was a beautiful thing to see them come together with so much energy and vision, uniting behind a common purpose and mission. I noticed that they had been craving the camaraderie.
Finally, after visiting the elementary school and high school, I was struck by the compassion and dedication of the teachers, administrators, volunteers, and cooks. The elementary school includes a classroom for seven kindergarteners and another for 17 2nd-6th graders. There is one World Teach volunteer who conducts all the English classes and the Director, who teaches the class of 17 in all other subject areas. The high school includes five classrooms and a dining room, where one woman lovingly prepares balanced meals for the 50+ students. Several students travel between one and two hours walking from the indigenous reservation to attend school in San Joaquín de Tuis every day.

While at first I felt overwhelmed at the thought of leaving my site for the weekend to travel solo to a new part of the country, I returned feeling excited and encouraged, eager to settle into my permanent site, begin building relationships, and assess strengths and weaknesses of my community and its organizations and institutions. When I first received my assignment of Rural Community Development, I envisioned myself living under a rock for two years. This is anything but the case with Anna, who is loved and respected in her community. She is often double booked, wanting to show her support for the represa, but fighting the desire to help a young cousin prepare for her English exam; eager to learn how to make chiverre, but committed to her dedicated English language learners.

I wouldn’t wish these days away for anything, so I am back to the here and now. Dad, I said “rabbit, rabbit” today, so I am looking forward to four weeks of good luck, savored moments, and lasting memories. While I returned from training today tired and full, I was excited to relay the events of my day to a host grandson and share with him the “magic” rocks I brought from the Colony Beach in Kennebunkport, Maine. Watching the Selección Nacional with my host parents and aunt, I look forward to the day when I can sing the himno nacional, let my teammate know where I am on the field using Spanish commands, and score a goal with a bicycle kick. In other words, I fully intend to be part tica when I return the States.