Palmas- Jacó Beach and el Domingo de Ramos

Yesterday, after a long week, RCD’ers were treated to a day at Jacó Beach thanks to a friend and his padre tico, Don William. Don William is the principal at the school in San Juan Sur and had chartered a bus to take students and their families to Jacó Beach for the day. He was brave enough to offer the remaining thirteen spots to us gringos- todos impaciente a ver la playa!
The day began at 336am, when I woke up naturally in time to catch the bus at 430am. We arrived at the beach around 9am and ran straight into the bath water- qué caliente! There were mountains to the left and right and a long beach to walk in between. The waves were fierce, the current strong, the water clear, the sand dark, the rocks red, and the sun strong. The town offered bagels, iced coffee, internet, and ice cream at a steep price. The familiarities were refreshing and overwhelming at the same time. We kept commenting about how strange it all felt- where were we, what were we doing there, how did we get there.

It is so strange to think about our life before, our life now, and our life to come. I feel like I have successfully transitioned from the before to the now; but, we are already anticipating the next and most difficult transition. While we left friends and family behind, we quickly made new friends and new family in our training communities. When I was at home thinking about my service, I envisioned my professional life and personal life entwined- my host family and my community members. I envisioned myself trying desperately to fill hours of alone time, with books, journals, and letters. I skipped over training entirely. Now, beginning week four of training, I cannot imagine being away from my new friends and new family. I am not going to imagine it either, because I would never want to wish this away. At the same time, it does not serve me to project what the next transition will bring- just as it would not have served me to set expectations for my Peace Corps service. Each day is an adventure and debe ser así.

From palm trees to Palm Sunday. Today I traveled with my family to San Juan Sur, where Palm Sunday was to begin with mass and a procession to the parish in San Juan Norte with a figure of Jesus on horseback preceded by the apostles. It was really a beautiful thing to be a part of- families and friends walking with their sombrillas (“shadows”- umbrellas), palms in hand, singing. When we got to the parish, mass continued with the reading of the Passion, which I strained to follow, standing in the back of the church. I am pleased to report that I am making strides toward the accomplishment of my goal to be able to participate in the entire mass in Spanish. I also just want to note that I feel so blessed to be able to experience and appreciate this part of Costa Rican culture. It would have meaning anyway, as it is an integral part of Costa Rican culture; however, as a Catholic, I look forward to celebrating mass with my family and community members every Sunday.

Sunday mass is also very emotional for me, as this is the time when my mind wanders to thoughts of my loved ones- present and deceased. All it takes is for me to walk into church and sit down and my eyes fill up with tears thinking about my grandfather, my mom, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I would say that I miss him, but I can’t figure out if I am missing him like I missed him in New York, or if I am missing him forever. I try to miss him like I missed him in New York because it is a much safer place for me but, at the same time, I know that it is a false sense of security. I am terrified of the other place.