Diosito Santo

For those of you (taxpayers) who are wondering whether or not I am working or, if so, how so, here’s the story…

Last week I gave my first English class to my extended family- an aunt, uncle, and four cousins. Ages ranged from 7 to 40. José Antonio, the 7 year old, cannot read or write in Spanish, but is currently learning numbers and colors in school. Olga, the mother of José Antonio, was skeptical about returning to English class after a bad experience with the verb “to be.” Tatiana, daughter of Olga and sister of José Antonio, was eager to begin class, as her boyfriend, Alan, speaks nearly perfect English. Alan has lived in Philadelphia and spent significant time working in the hotel business in the Cayman Islands.

Anyway, after individual conversations with my prospective students, I decided it would be appropriate to teach the first class on greetings, goodbyes, and emotions (“How are you?” “I am sad, tired, scared, nervous, happy, sick, etc.”). I got home on Wednesday fifteen minutes before my class was to begin and was surprised to find a full house; although, it was unclear as to whether or not the montón de gente had arrived for my class or for cafecito. I was told that Katia and Cynthia, aunts on whose attendance I was counting, had forgotten about the class, and ran down the path behind my house to recogerles. Luckily, when six o’clock struck, I had my required five attendees and my peer evaluator, a fellow PC trainee.

We started the class with an ice breaker- “what makes you nervous about learning English?” “what do you want to learn?” “why do you want to learn English?” This was a great way to start- among other things, I learned that Olga wanted to learn so as to be able to keep up with her son, José Antonio. Spelling and speaking were expressed as common concerns. I had drawn pictures to accompany each word or phrase, so we went down the list one by one, emphasizing pronunciation and meaning. When we finished each group of words, we did several practice exercises as a group, i.e. “Your best friend forgot your birthday yesterday. How do you feel? I feel sad.” Finally, we used the associated pictures to play a game of memory, which was a huge hit. Every time a person picked up a card, they had to give the associated word or phrase before trying to make a match. Occasionally, I would ask them for the Spanish equivalent to make sure that they understood the definition as well as the pronunciation. Afterward, I asked my new students to assess the class and suggest material and activities for next class. I received great feedback and will plan to teach vocabulary to order food in a restaurant and to ask for directions next class. Bingo was the number one request for a practice activity.

In addition to teaching three English classes, we have to attend a meeting of the integrated development association in our town, plan and implement a service learning activity, invite community members to an asset-based approach event and facilitate a discussion on the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats related to the development of the town, present on an institution of Costa Rica (mine is the Ministry of Agriculture and Farming), complete weekly reading assignments, facilitate a presentation on a week’s reading assignments, and conduct a mini community analysis task, which requires interviewing community members about population, transportation, health, socio-economic activities, resources, projects, etc.
Needless to say, there are not enough hours in the day to complete the required assignments, integrate with our families and communities, develop relationships with PC trainees, appreciate the indescribable sunsets, explore the many hidden paths that weave through the coffee plantations, and keep up on the noticias and latest drama un el Último Matrimonio Feliz. Now that I know the beauty that is a Costa Rican sunset or a Costa Rican night sky, I will gladly give up an hour or two of restless sleep- between the night allergies, the full stomach, and my eight-legged comrades, I am lucky if I can keep my ojos cerrados until 531.

Luckily, I have gone from zero to sixty and look forward to my two cups of black coffee every day. So as to continue growing upward as I say (as opposed to growing outward), I have decided to forego the powdered milk and sugar. After trying several different techniques to comer menos and with less grease, i.e. “I love salad,” “I don’t like throwing food away, so please serve me a little and I will ask for more if I am still hungry,” “I eat all the food you serve me because I like the food, but it makes me sick to eat so much,” I have come to the conclusion that my host mother is deliberately sabotaging me. No, just kidding, I know she takes pride in feeding me to the brim, but picture this scene: Last night I said to Vilma, “that’s fine, thank you,” when she was serving me dinner and, not only did she continue dishing out white rice, but she put my plate down, dumped a bag of cheetos on top, and said “coma, coma (eat, eat)” with a wide grin. Diosito Santo…

Al chile?

I just got back from a family lunch of 17 people and nearly 17 comidas- tortillas, beans, rice, salad, fried eggs, sardinas, tuna, pasta, soup, and arroz con leche. Today is Sabado Santo, a day of rest and relaxation and preparation for the resurrection of Jesus. There is another procession tomorrow from Río Conejo to the parish in San Juan Norte. Since Thursday, there has been no bus service, no soccer games, and no soap operas. We have been eating a small (-er) breakfast of coffee and pan casero (bread filled with chiverre, which is sweet) and then a large lunch at noon. All the students are on vacation, so there have been primos in and out every day. Yesterday, I woke up from a nap to find my host mother, her daughter, and granddaughter braiding another granddaughter’s hair for the Easter procession on Sunday. Hours later, Melanie had 100 braids. My friend and I commented the other day that no moment feels wasted here- whether we pass them braiding hair, washing clothes, practicing guitar, or painting.

Easter break was well overdue; although, classes on Monday and Tuesday were great! We spent Monday at my friend’s house learning from his padre tico how to plant and cultivate coffee. Tuesday, we spent the day at my house learning how to make tortillas and pupusas. Wednesday dragged, as technical days often do, but Thursday was well worth the wait. Many friends were invited to spend Semana Santa away with their tico families and I was disappointed that my family had nothing planned. While I was anxious to participate in the religious celebrations with my family, I was equally anxious to get away and experience something new. I was thrilled when my friend came over to invite me camping with his host family.

The site was a twenty five minute walk from their house, but it felt much further. We were probably 10 or 12 in total and had three tiendas (tents) between us. Everyone helped prepare dinner, cutting culantro by the light of a foco, pouring coffee, stirring frijoles, and warming tortillas. The scene was so refreshing- the campfire, the full moon, the cool breeze, the wine, the word games. As I have said earlier, camping would have been enough to make me stop and smile, but camping in Costa Rica with new friends was incredible. We walked to the river in the morning, after a breakfast of scrambled eggs, salchichas, gallo pinto, and coffee, to play charades and rhyme time.

Last night we watched a movie with the same bunch and ate palomitas (little pigeons- popcorn). While we left late to walk back to my house, the path was completely illuminated by the light of the moon. Luckily, a month into our service, we are still struck by the night sky, and stopped to take it in. It’s funny how when we travel to a place for a week or ten days for vacation we fail to notice things like stars shining, clouds moving, birds chirping, and wind whistling- we don’t have time. Instead, we pick out the beautiful buildings, the store windows, the fountains, parks, museums, and people, because they are easiest to spot and appreciate. I do not feel rushed in this way, as I have 26 months ahead of me in Costa Rica. I do not feel pressured to capture every moment on film and, as a result, I am able to savor every moment for the moment. This is truly a blessing.

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.

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.