A Little Bit of Home Sick...

A little bit of homesick.

While being here I have learned what “Home” means to me. If you are away from your home for a very long time it is much easier to see what made your home the special thing that it was. I have learned that my home is not simply a structure. My home is my routine and my freedom. I miss being able to cook whatever I want and when I want to. I miss having a place that is mine and where I do not feel displaced or awkward. I miss my school. I even miss my job a bit. I miss my gym and my late night work outs. I miss my friends and family. I miss my sister and her little family a lot. I miss my car. I miss my late night walks with Lisa. I miss having my family so close to me. Though this has made me realize that I could have driven the 30 minutes to see them more often. Now here I sit wanting to pay 900$ just to go for one weekend.  I simply don’t have the money for that so it will not be happening; and honestly, 900$ could be better spent…  I miss lying on my bed with my door open. I MISS MY WINDOWS! I specifically selected my apartment because it was so bright and my room had two walls with large windows… here- I HAVE NO WINDOWS.

The ultimately sad part is that there are others who have never in their lives had the things that I miss. There are people who are stuck in rooms without windows, instead of simply having to live in one. People who have not experienced the freedom in a road trip because they have never had a car. Many can’t afford higher education and do not have jobs. Some people have lost their entire family rather than just parts of it and others have no friends at all. While I am getting fat off of junk food, beer, and being bummed about not being able to exercise- others starve.

I know all of this yet it does not change the fact that I miss my home. I knew I would experience culture shock, but I did not know in which form it would come. I was warned about the ups and downs of studying abroad. It does not make it any more fun. Although I wish I could go home for the weekend, this experience is preparing me for the time when I DO live abroad for a longer period of time. I have learned that I am not ready and I will not be for a few more years. This is okay though, because I still need to see more of the world, I need to study the Spanish language intensely, I need to acquire more skills to use in the field, and I need to be better prepared in general. In a few months I will look back on how miserably I miss my home right now, and I will most likely see more merit in it. Though I must admit- right now it feels pretty darn crappy.

Honk Honk!

In Costa Rica there are many important cultural differences that one must get used to. These include things such as throwing toilet paper in the trash rather than flushing and kissing people on the cheek when you greet them (I love this). There are many many more but there is one in particular I would like to talk about. . . .The honking. This is something I had noticed on my own early on and recently a professor talked to us about it as well. I am going to share with you my observations about what honking is like here in Costa Rica.

In the states, honking is rude or annoying a large percentage of the time. When it does happen to be an excited person honking at someone they know- often the other people around them still think it is rude or annoying. In Costa Rica this is not the case. Here are some reasons for honking that I have seen…

#  1: Someone switches lanes and the cars are very close- HONK HONK! Translation: “Excuse me mam/sir, but I would just like for you to be aware that I am behind and to the right of you.. Gracias!”

# 2: A car does happen to ask permission to change lanes- HONK HONK! Translation: “Excuse me mam/sir but I need to get over there” HONK HONK! “Oh certainly there is room for you, go ahead” HONK HONK! “GRACIAS!” HONK HONK! “MUCHO GUSTO!”

# 3: Occasionally someone will change lanes or come through an intersection too fast and HONK HONK! Translation: “WATCH IT!” or “Can’t you see I am already occupying this space! UGH”  

# 4: A taxi sees you and HONK HONK! Translation: “Well I happen to notice you walking and since I currently do not have any passengers I wanted to make you aware of my presence because I would really like your money, If not- Pura Vida Mae”

# 5: While driving through an intersection the driver fears that someone else may not obey the laws of the stop sign and HONK HONK! Translation: “Excuse me! I just wanted to let you know I am here and I am coming through! Gracias!”

# 6: While driving through and intersection the driver does not plan to obey the laws of the stop sign and HONK HONK! Translation: “HOLA! I just wanted to let you know that I am here and I am coming through without stopping! Gracias!”

# 7: While driving a nice gentle man sees a young lady walking and HONK HONK! Translation: “You look very nice today!”

# 8: While driving a disgusting pervert sees a young lady walking and HONK HONK! Translation: “I LOVE YOU MAMI!”

I am very sure there are more and when I remember them or observe them I will be sure to add on!

Being On The Other Side

Have you ever read unpacking the invisible knapsack by Peggy Mcintosh? If you have not then I would suggest that you Google it. It is a quick and important read and is of the same theme that I am about to attempt to communicate.

I have now been in Costa Rica for 39 days. The first two weeks were easy. When you are surrounded by gringos, have a private bus that carts you around, and a guide that translates everything you could possibly need… Who needs to know Spanish?  There is an easy Answer- no one. It is very much like the United States in that I am able to go anywhere in my country and I am confident that someone could help me to have my needs met. I would never think twice about the fact that I only speak English, and while at times I might notice Spanish I would not feel completely inconvenienced or at a disadvantage for not knowing it. While studying at UPEACE for two weeks I must admit that I felt pretty good when I understood a bit of Spanish. After all, not much was presented to me so I felt pretty good about the amount that was coming my way! How hard could it be to learn more?

Well- As it turns out, it is much harder than I would have thought. My second two weeks here involved a school where if you wanted something from the administration you must first attempt to ask for it in Spanish. It was not uncommon to ask someone that did not speak English, and therefore if you failed you were out of luck until you found someone else. I lived with a family that spoke little to no English. I became a master at smiling and nodding. Hand gestures become much more useful, and not just something that the Italians do. I found that 30% of what I understood was due to my vocabulary, 10% was due to gestures and 60% was common sense from the context of the conversation. This is only of what I understood…. Which- was about 15% of what was presented to me. I continued to learn. We had small classes and in my second week I added private lessons where I had a great tutor. He challenged me more than I would have asked for or thought reasonable to be honest. It is one thing to feel stupid while discussing a topic of which you know nothing. Entirely different to feel ignorant while discussing a topic you have spent years studying. He asked me to discuss with him the similarities and differences between psychology and speech therapy. While I have much to say on this topic- I simply do not have the vocabulary or grammar to do it in Spanish!!

I tried though. Imagine my frustration at being the student that I am in the states; With my grades and my arrogance and my weaseling of the system- and then to be asked a simple question and not being able to say 5 sentences on the matter? It was horrifying. We worked through it. And afterwards he continued to challenge me. You don’t know how many times I growled and said “I don’t have the words” or “I can’t say it” How many times I wanted to assure someone that I actually am a semi-intelligent person. I have even expressed that in the Spanish world I am not that smart.

Now at my new school I am again living in a home where I do not speak English. We travel more here and there is constant threat of being ripped off by a taxi driver. In addition I have had to look up common things that I might WANT to say to a taxi driver when I think he is pulling my leg. Things I would never have to worry about in the states pop up here all the time. In Spanish I can ask for directions easily… Do you think this means I will understand the answer I receive? It absolutely does not. In Spanish I can usually tell someone what I need or want. Will I understand their response? No. Can I say most things that I want to? Yeah! But can I say them in the shortest, most grammatically correct way possible? Heck No- and I mess up all the time.

It is VERY interesting being on the other side of a language barrier. If I thought I had patience for foreign students before this I was wrong. To even think one time that I wished someone could speak faster so that I could leave or so that I could just help them and move on was a regretful thought on my part, and it probably did not only happen once. While I have admired the patience in others while they help I never felt TOO guilty about not having the patience myself- until now. I remember being at a peace conference in Ohio with Barbara and meeting an important woman from Egypt. She was very quiet and we thought she was timid or simply a typical Middle East woman. WRONG. Give a woman a translator and suddenly she is the most amazing person you have ever had the privilege of listening to as she screams outrage at the world.

Many times here I am afraid to try to speak Spanish because I know I am not very good. Many times here I doubt that what I have said is correct. I often wonder if people are making fun of me, and I fear that I will not be able to understand responses. Sometimes I let others speak for me because it is easier, and I almost always regret this. I found a place here that I would like to work. I asked what the requirements were and the first response was, “Are you bilingual?” Damn. Next comment, “Well you’re beautiful and that is half the qualification” HAHA. If only it were the CORRECT half. I am beautiful and yet someone who is ugly, with less specialized education, and with a worse personality would be 100 times more qualified. Therefore, it is not half the battle after all.

I now feel at a disadvantage. If I wanted to go to the hospital on my own I cannot. If I wanted to go to the mall on my own I would not readily know which bus to take. God forbid I ever take a wrong bus I will not easily be able to ask directions for the correct bus. I am constantly in danger of being taken advantage of or lied to. I cannot easily read nutrition information and I cannot read the news without a dictionary. Often I have to ask people to translate certain things and even when I think I know something on my own I could easily be wrong.

The conversation instructor that I had spoken of was incredibly patient. I have gained friends here that have put in great effort. People have extended a hand and helped me in places that I did not expect and I could not be more grateful. While I thought I was aware before I have found that I was not, and I know that I still have much to learn. I hope that in the future I always have this memory of being on the wrong side. As well as that when I meet others in my position; that I can respond in a manner which does not make them feel that they are on the wrong side- but rather a different side.

This is an experience that I would never give up.

Mis Amigos Nuevos de CPI

Here at CPI I have met some amazing people. It is amazing how nervous I was about meeting people I could connect with. I find that I am learning all the time that if I trust myself with my actions, do what I love, and go without hesitation; the people doing the same things are going to be easy to relate to.

This blog is simply a shout out to some of my new friends.

First there is Sylvia- She has already left CPI but she is somewhat of a role model to me (Brilliant, Talented, Adventurous, Kind).

Samantha- Staying behind while the majority of us leave (Lively, Intelligent, Fun, and Full of immense potential).

Sandhya- Heading back to the states soon, but it is okay because her mom is making all her favorite foods J (Bright, Mature, Lovable, Funny).

Morgan- An interesting Spanish teacher that I wish I had spoken to more (again Intelligent, Patient, Helpful, Kind).

Rene- OH MY GOSH, Rene was so surprising, and incredibly talented woman (Brilliant, Funny, Patient, Humble).

Timothy- Oh boy haha, what a good guy, Chivalry is not lost in this one (Soooo Smart, Hilarious, Quirky, Lively).

Caitlyn- Wish I had more time with Caitlyn for she is one of those friends that switches easily with me from serious and deep to light and lively (Funny, Bold, Open, Adventurous).

Rachel- THE SUPERVISOR! And love of our lives, no one could dislike this girl, simply not possible. (Responsible, Loving, Bright, Caring).

Philip- King of the famous Pick Up Line, “Yo Soy Guapo y Tu Tambien” haha. (FULL OF LAUGHTER, Fun, Quircky, helpful)…

I am sure I forgot many people and I am sorry. I love everyone I have met so much. It is SO GOOD.

I just wish we had more time.

The Sound of a Cockroach (Cucaracha)

As I have shared with people before… Living in Costa Rica is an experience where I have come to terms with the fact that I live among bugs. I share my room with hundreds of ants that I can see and I am sure hundreds more that I cannot see. I can count around 20 spiders in my room and I am sure there are more of those too. On more than one occasion I have had to carefully move centipedes to the outdoors, and this is okay. . . . However, there are other times- like when I bit into a fresh Guayabana and it had worms…  where feel I must draw the line.. and it gets worse.

I don’t know what the biggest Cockroach you have ever seen is… but I’m pretty sure I won’t top my recent experience any time soon. A few weeks ago I had a rather large cockroach in my room at a hotel, I thought it was ginormous. Compared to a few nights ago, that first one was NOTHING. I recently encountered a MONSTER in my bedroom. I am going to name him Oscar. Oscar was about the size of a small mouse and I could hear his legs move as he scuttered around my room. Unfortunately I felt the need to kill him because Cockroaches carry diseases and I was afraid he was a she and would lay eggs or something… That night, I had 3 nightmares and woke up many times. I can still hear the sound of him in my mind.

Looking Back At UPEACE

I feel it is necessary to back track a little bit and describe some of my experience with UPEACE. Much of the program was similar to the experience I had had in the past. This time however, my point of view had changed, my role had changed, and my group had changed. I went primarily as a participant but also as an intern. I enjoyed my role in assisting Barbara with things very much. She is an amazing mentor and person. I enjoyed the experiences that were repeated because the information was reinforced and it was interesting to observe a different group. It was an exercise to not spoil activities that I knew the solutions to, and it was an exercise to practice effective facilitation. At times I failed, and at times I succeeded. I observed in myself that I was better at one on one encounters than with the entire group, but I received much practice in both. I enjoyed staying at Canal Grande again because the staff is very much like a family. I feel at home at this hotel, and would gladly welcome the employees into my home in the states.

Some things that were new included a different coffee plantation. At this one we were able to plant coffee, which I enjoyed very much. They told us that they would keep our plants together and if we returned in three years we could drink our coffee. J. Something else I found intriguing was that they said they offered homestays. I am on the hunt for my next international travel to include work experience- which brings me to my next fantastic addition. This time we visited a private school, and a young man gave us the tour in English. At this school I planted about 30 or more trees that were simply seeds that had sprouted, and 2 trees that were about a foot and a half to 2 feet tall already. I would say that this was one of the highlights of my trip. At this school (which I wrote down the information for) they have opportunity for volunteer work for extended periods of time. How amazing would that be!?

Perhaps later the topic of “La Carpio” will receive a blog entry of its own. For now though, I must place it here. La Carpio is a place I would very much like to return to in the future. Through a connection between the University for Peace and The Foundation in La Carpio (which is headed by an amazing angelic woman by the name of Gale) we were able to hear the history of the neighborhood, it’s people, and receive a tour. La Carpio is a piece of land about one square mile in size that is divided into 9 sectors. Due to drugs, crime, and danger in general people are not usually permitted to move freely between the different sectors. Gale is the exception. Walking with Gale made me want to cry. It was powerful. The people passing by not only had respect for her, but they had love. She knew everyone, and had a magical way with the children. They hugged her and she asked them about their days. She knew their families, their lives. She had support for them, and respected their feelings. I could see through her actions and her words how much she cared for them. While normally this would have been a very dangerous experience (35,000 people living in this square mile), with Gale- it was safe. For the most part, these families are Nicaraguans, though their children are now Costa Rican. Gale told me to watch for people’s reactions when I explained that I had spent a day in La Carpio, and I have been. Eyes open briefly in disbelief and then return to normal. Within the first two sentences of conversation I am told how dangerous it is. This is a moment where I long deeply for increased Spanish vocabulary. In the Spanish world I lack the ability to have profound conversation. I feel for the people in La Carpio. It is amazing how kind the people that we met were/are. Willing to share their lives with us, willing to invite us into their homes and introduce us to their families- including a new born baby. They have hard lives- yet the smile, and it is pure. I met an artist that had lost the use of his legs and a great deal of his upper body when he was a child. In august his work will appear in a large exhibit. He regret to us was that his work was unfinished otherwise he would have like to share it with us.

The children in La Carpio appeared to be happy. Though both they and their parents had ripped clothing, and many of the children had caps on their teeth…. They were warm. They have homes. They laughed and smiled and played. I noted that they played in the same water that the dishes were done in, but they are unaware of the fact that children elsewhere would not be permitted to do this. Though they were very observant that we were Gringos (a term for North Americans), the youth of La Carpio do not entirely feel the pain from the difference in quality of life. If they have never known it, how could they? I don’t mean the material items. Those are things that the delinquents are able to steal.. and sell. I mean things such as the feeling of accomplishment after obtaining advanced education… These people are getting by. Often people are satisfied if they have the knowledge that is necessary to get by. Outside of La Carpio however? I am unsure. I know that in my life I desire more… always more. I had a brief discussion about the politics in Costa Rica and how it relates to La Carpio. There is currently a new wave of youth in the neighborhood that will be able to vote in the coming election. Stupidly, I asked what was being done to help prepare this youth for informed decision making. Hah- If only the resources were available. I was answered with the fact that this was not possible because there were more basic/ more important things that must be taught first. Unfortunately this group of youth will go on being easily influenced because critical thinking and informed questioning is currently unattainable. . . and I was assured that they will vote. This is one thing that the people of Costa Rica do DO.

In the coming weeks I will be taking a class on Latin American Politics. It is my hope to advance these thoughts and gain a deeper understanding of the situations in in Costa Rica and Central America. If this happens- I will surely revisit the topic.

Anyway---- While in La Carpio we also picked up trash, and built bunk beds for a family that lives there. I was with the small group that went to the house for final construction and this in itself was an experience. I have some photos and when I have time I will share them. It was an amazing experience to see their life. To kick the soccer ball lying in what could be interpreted as a yard. Though this yard contained no grass- only gravel and broken glass. While the construction was taking place, the children’s’ mom left and returned with a two liter of Coke which she proceeded to pour into cups for us to drink. IMAGINE… a family appearing to have nothing -and certainly they surely lack money, going out of their way to spend money in order to be a good host… It was unnecessary…. Or was it? Certainly we did not need to drink Coke. Though in a world where one party wants to help another without an heir of superiority- without a lowering of one’s self to the others level but rather to help as equals in the human family… this act of love is completely necessary, and it was appreciated.

 Wow- the concept I just brought up is very complicated and I hope that you all understand my point of view. If not we can certainly discuss it later because it is very important and I would not want to be misunderstood. It is a concept I have discussed in detail with a friend from UMASS.

Finally- when the bed was completed, the kids jumped and laughed and smiled. My life became just a smidge brighter. This was an experience I will not forget. If only I could show it through my eyes.

Alas, I have typed a novel… but I feel now I can continue with my more recent experiences. Phew!

Mi Experiencia Religiosa

First of all, there are many topics that I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to type about. However, I am keeping my computer at the school permanently because it is safer than carrying it back and forth to my homestay. Although many people have been wondering about my homestay, I would prefer to use this time for now to discuss my recent religious experience.

First I should state that for those that may be unaware; I am an agnostic. Put simply and broadly I neither believe nor disbelieve in the existence of a higher power. In slightly more detail, my personal beliefs include that if an individual person truly believes in god then she/he exists- simply because that person believes it to be true. Similarly if another person of a different religion believes something different, then that too is true- simply because they believe it. This is the power of the mind. I believe we should have respect for all people and their beliefs. I draw the line where one person’s beliefs turn into actions which interfere with the life and beliefs of another. Essentially I believe that all people should love one another.

Now…

I went to Church with my Tico cousin on Saturday night. The service began at 5pm but we arrived around 3:30. For a while we sat under the shade of a water apple tree, and I was given a brief showing of La Iglesia (the church). The first thing that I noticed was that I was over dressed. I had worn a knee length blue skirt and a nice matching tank top and cardigan. HAHA! My first mistake was knowing that I was participating in order to have a cultural experience, and not first asking what I should wear. While approaching the door I observed some people shouting. Promptly, I questions Jefferson as to why they were shouting!? To which he responded, “They’re praying”. VERDAD!? – surely this was something I had never seen before.

Over all, I really enjoyed the building. In general the structure of a church/temple/mosque etc… bothers me. I do not find them to be necessary in order to worship. I believe that people are closest to higher powers outside, not in a manmade structure with fancy décor and strange rituals. I believe people are capable of pure and honest worship in a basic space either alone or with those they love, and at any hour of the day or day of the week- not simply on Saturday or Sunday so that some people can feel better about not being religious for the rest of the days. I must say though. I found myself to be very fond of this structure. It was plain. Simply with a stage and enough space for 1,188 chairs. No, I did not count each one- I know because there were 12 sections of chairs in rows of 9X11.

I also found the people to be very enjoyable. It was a church for young people, and they seemed to really enjoy themselves. The music was amazing as well. I found myself swaying and dancing and smiling. My friend Hannah would have felt right at home, and boy do I miss her.

So all was well….. until the sermon. It was about sex. It was in Spanish, and I understood much of it. I actually understand Spanish multiple times better than I can speak it. The pastor announced and shouted with passion and vigor that it was against god to use birth control, that sex and marriage were only to be between a man and a woman, and that sex outside of marriage was of course a sin. The more he repeated himself and the more passionate about his words that he became the more agitated I felt. This alone would have been tolerable, because I can respectfully listen and it is no big deal. What happened at the end really got me thinking. The pastor asked for those that had sinned to step forward and ask forgiveness from god. Thirty or so youth stepped forward. One by one they fell to their knees and begged the forgiveness of god. Some of those that appeared to be higher up in the church went to them one by one and they spoke. People cried. People sobbed. People shook on their knees and laid their bodies so low to the ground you could have mistaken them for intense physical pain.

This agitated me above all. Why are we falling at the feet of god for forgiveness? Why are we not falling at the feet of those that our actions have harmed and asking for THEIR forgiveness?? How is this more important? Surely forgiveness of god is more about forgiving one’s self, or pretending that one has been forgiven. Though surely also this does not change the consequences of whatever the sin/action happened to be… I truly am at a loss…