Drives through the countryside

Costa Rican roads are bumpy.  And windy.  Everywhere.  As we drove to the volcano and later to the La Paz waterfalls, we bumped over and around mountains, passing through small towns.  One of the towns we passed through had 100+ used car lots (remember it's a small town).  Odie says most Ticos throughout the country come here to buy a car.  The funny thing is that the majority of the cars sold in Costa Rica originated in North Carolina.  What an odd connection.  There is no explanation except that the cars probably do not have much rust and weather damage.

We also passed many farms that were covered with black tarps.  Under the tarps are ferns.  The majority of the ferns are exported to Europe to be used in floral bouquets.  For such a small country, Costa Rica exports a lot of agricultural products: coffee, fruit, herbs, and ferns.

On our way to La Paz cataratas (waterfalls), we passed many roadside produce stands, or just single people selling produce, bread, and cheese.  One of the people on the bus, John, finally asked Odie about the various people on the side of the road.  Odie said many of them make their living selling items next to the road, as much of the area was devastated by an earthquake 2 years ago.  John thought about it for a moment, and then stood up and asked everyone to quiet.  He challenged us to collect up our colones (money), and that we should stop at the next lone person and buy everything he/she has, so that person could go home and spend this Saturday with his/her family.  John had a difficult time being away from his family, and I am not surprised he suggested this idea.   The entire bus cheered.  We continued on, passing stands or little stores, and John kept shaking his head.  As we neared our final destination, we turned down a small hilly road that had just been rebuilt.  The road is still subject to landslides, and in places, seemed questionable.  We rounded a bend, and a young women appeared in the middle of nowhere surrounded by fresas (strawberries) and her two young children.  We rumbled by her, and then Odie and John both yelled, "That's her!"  On the little one lane highway, our bus driver threw the bus in reverse and we rolled back to the young woman.  The strawberries cost 20 colones.  We collected more than enough and gave her everything we had.  She packaged up her strawberries, a little bag for each person.  She climbed on the bus and teared up as she thanked us.  She was going to take her boys home.  The strawberries were some of the sweetest I've tasted.  This memory is one of my favorites.  I am with "my people".  There is still some compassion alive among Americans.

SICR-Day 5, 7.14 Volcano Day!

Hoy esta dia el volcano!  I have waited for this day!  I imagine a cool, dark mountain where we can look down and see the black rock and maybe some orange bubbling.  Geez, E, were you sleeping through your basic geology course in college?

We set off early with the hopes that we would get a glimpse of the crater before the fog rolled in.  The change in altitude up to Volcano Poas was quick, and my lungs were not ready.  The walk was hard, the air was thin, but Odie says the day was the clearest she has ever seen the volcano.  So what does a volcano really look like, you ask? This:

 

The crater is like any other rock with some stains from acid rain and sulfur.  The water is a milky, green color, and there's a small white plume constantly rising from the right side.  That's it.  (The mountains surrounding it and the clouds are beautiful.)  As we watched the small basin and its white plumes, I asked Odie what the warning signs are of an eruption.  "Oh, that's easy!" she says.  The water level lowers.  The water turns darker in color.  And more plumes rise.  Did I mention that Odie had just commented about how dark and low the water seemed 5 minutes before?  My mind began shouting, "You mean it could erupt at any moment?!"  So, if Volcano Poas in Costa Rica happens to erupt within the next few months, you heard it here first!

I'm ON a volcano!

SICR-Day 4, 7.13

At the Botanical Gardens

Gina says my Spanish is becoming much better and I'm speaking more in her house.  I awoke this morning resolved to bombard Lyccho with questions so he will talk to me.  He has a hearty laugh and when I talk with Gina, she will then yell something about what I've said to him in the next room, and he will start laughing.  (Honestly, I'm not sure that it is a good sign...)  This morning, I mulled some questions around in my head, and practiced how to say them as best as I could in Spanish.  At breakfast, as he made his usual move to vacate the room when I walked in, I stopped him and started talking.  I asked him about his backyard, his dark and mysterious garage, and the newspaper.  He became very animated when I asked about his garage.  We walked in and looked at ALL of the bananas, his old orange truck, and all of the dirt.   Just like here at home, the garage is the man's domain!  Lyccho also pointed out plants in his backyard and a hiding turtle (tortuga).  Finally, he offered me a newspaper to take home with me.  I liked the few minutes with him and hope he will talk with me a bit more.

Lyccho's back yard

We have Spanish class every day.  Odie, one of SICR's directors, and my teacher, challenges me.  She uses Alison and me to teach the other students in the class.  So I guess that means I know something!  We went to the local farmers' market this morning to use our Spanish and learn more about the culture.  The produce was gorgeous.  Many of us were intrigued by a spiky looking red fruit.  (It looked like it belonged in the ocean with all of its little arms.)  A local resident recognized that we were new, and so she explained the little fruit, called a mamon chino, and bought some for all of us to try.  You must break it open with your fingers and then suck at the white flesh.  It's kind of chewy like a gummy worm.  But OH! SO sweet!!!!  Flash forward to this evening when I excitedly tried telling Gina I tried a "mono china" and I loved it.  I was excited because I thought it was the fruit that she keeps serving me in juice form.  Confused, she asked me three times what I tried.  Finally I showed her the picture on my camera.  She was shaking with tears in her eyes, laughing so hard.  Miming the animal, she informed me that I told her I tried a Chinese monkey this morning!  So, my Spanish is not that great, yet.  And the juice she serves me: mayacuya (passion fruit).  I struck out both times.                                                                                               

Mamon Chino

San Jose Valley from tree house

Our trip for the day was to a medicinal and edible botanical garden overlooking San Jose.  We ate our way through the tour.  Most of the leaves tasted bitter, but some had chocolate or mint flavors.  The group favorite plant was the stimulant which is a legal alternative to the marijuana plant.  Go figure!  The owner of the gardens built a tree house in a tree on the edge of the property looking over the city and mountains.  It has a bathroom and bedroom, and can be rented each night.  It was a breathtaking secluded view.  On clear days, sometimes the Pacific can be seen.

Trying yet another leaf!

Our group had lunch at a large outdoor restaurant called Fiesta de Maize: Corn Party.  Every item had some kind of corn in it.  We have been eating a lot of corn tortillas in Costa Rica, but I especially liked the flat, sweet, corn cake that was served.  It reminded me very much of when I was young and the fried bread my mom used to make with the leftover crumbs and batter after she coated all of the chicken parm for dinner.  What a happy thought for the day!

Combate

I've learned that I'm too old and cover too many parts of my body, so I'm uninteresting.  The first few nights I was at Gina's house, I worried that she didn't like me.  She scolded me for saying anything in English.  She gave me a set of rules.  And at 7pm, she would jump up, and tear through the house, flying into her seat in front of the flat screen grabbing for the remote...even if I was in the middle of stumbling through a thought.

Combate is on the television.  And by golly, nothing  will get between her and the orange and blue teams.  NOTHING.  It is a game show in which the two teams compete in obstacle type games such as carrying an armful of rice bags while riding a scooter, or interlocking bodies as a human trampoline, or running an obstacle course through the pool. Ridiculous stunts.  The men are in tight workout shorts and shirts, while the women are in even tighter shorts and exercise bras.  The teams gain points by finishing timed team games and also by receiving phone in viewer votes.  They gain viewer points by blowing kisses at the camera.  The teams remain the same every night, and even have theme songs using just their names: naranja y azul (orange and blue). As soon as the theme song comes on, the team starts singing and dancing...and so does Gina.

As my stay continued, I learned that many people tune into this show nightly, and many of my travel partners experienced the same earth-shattering responses in their homes. 

Aging in Costa Rica

A local pro-bono attorney spoke to us about aging before going to the nursing home.  Marietta cares for her parents, as well as her mother-in-law, and knows at 60, that one day her children will do the same for her.

As in most cultures around the world, Ticos care for their parents as they age.  A law passed in Costa Rica in 1999 and again in 2002 says that the equivalent of social security will help in aging care, as will the health care insurance that everyone pays into, but the family must care for and support elderly parents.

Historically, families had many children, and one daughter would not marry and instead care for the aging parents.  Now, families are having fewer children who are more educated and working away from the home; care is a family obligation but presenting more problems.  The current president is pushing for more senior centers with staged care in towns, as the life expectancy is now reaching 81/82.  But many worry the care in a center, no matter how good, will never be as good as in the home with children.

The law requires families to care for their parents with dignity and respect.  Social workers check on all aging parents in their homes.  Once a parent retires and moves in with an adult child, their working days are over- Mama does not cook, clean, or do laundry.  I spoke with one INA student who talked about caring for parents.  She seemed surprised when I asked if parents help around the house.  Parents are expected to rest all day and enjoy being with the family.  The sentiment is that "we (the children) have to take care of our parents because the cycle will continue and someone will care for me one day."  Families are proud to care for their aging parents.

With changes in the economy of our country, I wonder if in the near future, we will see more families going back to caring for their aging parents in their home after retirement?

SICR-Day 3, 7.12

What a day!  Our days are packed, and by lunchtime, I feel like the day should be over.  No wonder people take siestas!

I met my friends Michelle, Pat, and Leslie, and Leslie's host mom and sister for a 6am walk.  The host moms identified native plants for us.  We walked on a fairly new 2-lane road that is now closed.  The road was built to connect Atenas to Concepcion, where there is access to the toll highway that quickly takes cars to San Jose or the west coast (part of the Pan-American Highway).  Many of the younger residents of Atenas are struggling to find professional work in Atenas after university, so they are forced to accept jobs in San Jose and commute or move.  This road was built to allow a quicker route to San Jose.  Unfortunately, it was done swiftly and the mountains were not graded properly.  There are continuous landslides.  (Secondary to the landslide is the fact that the road is built over a former landfill, which also raises local concerns.) The road is closed indefinitely at the mountain pass until both sides can be properly graded.  Until then, it is a quiet, but hilly road for riding and walking.  We hiked to the barrier, and then stood and watched the land fall.  It is dark loam.  Beautiful and fertile.  It is amazing to stand that close while watching the sun rise.

Today is our day to volunteer.  Half of the group went to an organization that provides training and microloans to women for small businesses.  I joined a group that visited a local nursing home.  (More on that later.)  Culturally, families keep parents in the home and care for them until passing.  If there is illness that requires more nursing care, some parents have to be placed in a nursing home.

The nursing home in Atenas is completely outside with ramps connecting the various buildings on the hillside.  Did I mention that all homes and porches in Costa Rica have tiled floors...including nursing homes?  Think about how tiled ramps may work with wheelchairs.  Let me know if I should provide more of a visual!

We assisted with arts and crafts for the day.  We helped residents to color pictures and glue them on to cards, or to ball up tissue paper and add them to pictures.  It is just like teaching school.  There's the one who wants affirmation for each little color streak he or she puts on paper.  The one who shouts out in the middle of instructions.  The quiet one trying to roll the wheelchair out the back of the room.  And the one leering at the girls, waving them over, and trying to kiss all of them (eh-hem, Hurmano).

I spent my time with Manuel.  He was a sweet man with glasses, a chauffeur's hat, and a warming smile.  He was very hard of hearing; the nurses had to yell in his ear.  But he spoke some English and tried telling my friend that he could understand what he was saying to me.  Manuel was very methodical.  He chose to color a little airplane, staying in the lines.  He would color for a while, break to read a moment in his magazine, and then put a finger to his chin in a thinking pose and choose his next color.  It was difficult to communicate in Spanish or English.  It is amazing how far gestures can take you!

When the whistle is blown, all residents outside meet here.  Might need to consider one for the playground!

 We finished our day with Spanish class and dance lessons.  (Cue the laughter...)

Fresca

Papaya- minus the ant

Costa Rica is the place of fresca- fresh fruit juice.  My mama Gina has diabetes, so she does not cook with sugar.  Yet her juice is some of the tastiest, sweetest, and freshest juice I've ever tasted.  Starfruit, passion fruit, watermelon, pineapple, carrot.  You name it, it's been done.  But consider this: it is never bought at the store.  Every house that I went, people store ziploc bags of assorted fruit in the freezer.  Some are in chunks waiting for the blender, some are blended and waiting for the addition of water when thawed.
                

Starfruit

Pineapple

Banana

It dawned on me, this is such an easy concept, yet how many of us really do this?  Right here and now, I am recording the first cooking lesson for my students this year: fresh fruit and a blender for juice.  We can go local and in-season, and learn how to support our local farms and resources.  I challenge you to do the same.

Compassion

Much to their dismay, the INA students did not just act as our tour guides, they had some research to do pertaining to "the Americans".  Their teacher, Wilber, required the students to work in small groups to learn more about our culture and to compare our lives to theirs.  They are to give 20-minute speeches, in English, next week about American culture.

Our round-table discussion about the definition of culture and the American way turned to one of compassion.  Compassion: the little word that means looking outside of our own self to the greater circle of people around us, and appreciating the shared experience and selflessness.  This topic was hot.  Some of the Costa Ricans (who have studied or lived in America) stated they do not believe that Americans have much compassion.  We live on our daily dose of reality television and video games, fast food, and communicating through internet and messaging rather than talking face to face. 

On our tour, we all have cell phones.  Many have iPhones and are constantly sending texts throughout the day or are on Facebook.  The Costa Ricans in our party have cell phones too, but are on them noticeably less time than we are.  Most of us are staying in homes where the mother is a housewife; there are not as many families where both parents work as in the US.  The households do with less "stuff" for lack of a better term.  My house here is simple, yet I do not seem to want for anything.

As a side note, Costa Rica has socialized health care, and has some of the best and cheapest health care in the world.  Many US citizens take medical vacations here. Costa Rica has similar issues with elder care, health care, social security, and immigration.  There is a large population of illegal Nicaraguans, but they take on the farming work and low wage jobs that educated Costa Ricans do not want.

So is there truth to this generalization that the US has less compassion?  I think yes, although it is not a black and white issue.  They students expressed concern that their community is becoming more globalized and starting to experience similar issues: students are playing more video games, and more younger households have both parents working.    As the world becomes flatter and we become more globally connected, I think our common challenge is going to be how to maintain compassion.  Ultimately, it starts in our classrooms.

SICR-Day 2, 7.11

We are staying in the town of Atenas, 25 minutes northwest of San Jose.  It is a valley surrounded by mountains.  I live 2 blocks from the center park and Catholic Church, so close to everything.  Most Costa Rican towns have a central park with a Catholic Church.  Atenas is so very lush and green...and clean.  Very different from Peru.

Homes and businesses do not have addresses as we would expect (number or street name), but directions.  Therefore, my house is located so many meters west of the bank, and south of the elementary school.  Yet, if I tell anyone who I live with, everyone immediately knows how to get to my house.  No one could quite answer how mail is delivered, and now that I think about it, I have never seen a post man around town.  Gina tells me to send her a letter when I get home, but to send it through Spanish Immersion.  If I look on Google Earth, the town of Atenas only has 1 street...it's not mapped yet.

In Atenas, and most of Costa Rica, the sun and roosters awake us at 4:45am.  I am usually wide awake and moving by 5:00.  Most workers start their jobs by 5:00am and finish around lunch when it gets hot.  Lunch is typically at 1:30pm, and is the largest meal of the day.  It rains in the afternoon, often times large gulley washers.  The gutter space of the curb is very deep for rainwater, so one must be careful stepping from the curb to the street.

The typical lunch served at a "soda" (lunch counter) is a "consada"- the married man's lunch.  The plate consists of beans, rice, salad, picante de papas (a hot potato salad), fried plantains, and meat (chicken-pollo, beef-carne, or fish-pescado).

Today, we met INA students to tour the town.  INA is the national vocational school/community college that teaches all of its students English.  These students started learning English in March.  They showed us around town using a map and answered questions in English.

Mi familia- Gina y Ulysses

My Mama Tica is Gina and my Papa Tico is Ulysses.  Tica and Tico is what Costa Ricans call themselves.  Ulysses is a small, quiet man who goes by Lyccho.

Gina looks like she could be my neighbor.  She's small, but mighty, with fashionable red glasses.  She's loving, but has rules, and keeps a tidy house.  She is a typical housewife, cooking all of the meals, doing laundry, and cleaning the house.  Gina tells me, "No habla ingles en mi casa!": Don't speak English in my house!  It's going to be a long 10 days.

Lyccho is a farmer, working a multi-crop farm on the outskirts of Atenas.  He has an old orange Toyota pickup that is about 70-years-old.  He loves spending time in his dark, dirty and old garage.  Lyccho is a quiet man who moves slowly.

Lyccho with bananas from the farm

Their son lives with them.  He is 25 and works in the medical field in San Jose.  He is not home often.  It is typical in the Hispanic culture for children to remain at home to contribute to the household and care for parents until married.

The house is a small wooden bungalow with tiled floors. The house is 67-years-old, belonging to Lyccho's family.  He grew up there, married his wife who then moved in, and continued to live there with his mother for whom they cared.  She has since passed and they live on there.  It has a bathroom, kitchen, living room, and 4 small bedrooms, with minimal furniture.  Everything is white.  The windows and doors remain open all day long, but the gates are locked at night.  It is eerily quiet.

Americanization or Globalization?

As we left the San Jose airport and merged onto the Pan-American highway, we noticed a Wal-Mart and American hotels.  We left the hub-bub of the city, and passed factories and warehouses for dairy and juice products, as well as utilities.  Costa Rica has many farming co-ops and is known for producing coffee beans and pineapples.  It also manufactures computing technologies, and big technology companies have factories there (Hewlett-Packard and Intell).  We will visit INA (the national vocational/community college) that prepares students for jobs like these tomorrow.  Electricity and water are fairly cheap, as electricity is made by wind.  CR shares wind turbines with Nicaragua.

Passing different factories and the stores and hotels, I thought San Jose looks more modern than Peru.  The houses are small and simple, but seem more stable and better cared for in Peru.  I commented that Costa Rica seemed Americanized.  Leslie, our tour leader from World View UNC, questioned if it was Americanized, or globalized.  She made me stop and think.  What does "Americanized" mean?  Is that our ethnocentric view?  Is there something that is specifically "American"?  Or are we all working to become more modern?  Why is a developing country trying to become developed considered "American"?  Many European and Asian countries are modern as well, and their companies and cultures are infiltrating developing countries too.  Is our thought of "Americanization" reflecting just the success of the United States or does it reflect ALL of the Americas?

Textbooks in Costa Rica teach that there are six continents in the world: Asia, Australia, Africa, Europe, Antarctica, and America.  America is one continent as it is one large connected landmass.  Most countries in the Americas, except for the United States, actually teach six continents.  In most countries, our country is called United States (Estados Unidos), not United States of America.  It is something so simple, yet so important when we teach children from other countries in the Americas; an alternate view, yet not wrong.  

As a side note.  Many of the fences here are made by taking broken branches and sticking them in the ground where they grow into new trees.  That's how fertile the earth is...wish I had a picture.

Spanish Immersion Costa Rica- Day 1, 7.10

A year to the day that I returned from Peru, I jet-set again, this time accompanying educators from around the state of North Carolina.  We are on our way to Costa Rica for 10 days of Spanish immersion of language and culture.

I packed lighter than the pilot!  Rob picked me up for the airport and was impressed by the size of my suitcase...how SMALL it was.  He said he packs more in a bigger bag for a four day trip than I did for a 10-day trip out of the country.  I learned my lesson in Peru last year when I only wore a quarter of the clothing I took.  It's funny how once you leave the United States, you realize how little clothing you need and how much you can re-wear something before washing.  I noticed it in Peru.  I've seen it in England and France.  Even our teachers who are from another country tend to have a small repertoire of outfits.  How much clothing do we really need?  And what does that say about Americans?

The thought of staying with a host family terrifies me.  I know a bit of Spanish, but not as much as I would like.  What if we have a barrier to communicating?  What if their lifestyle and mine do not match?