Other People Exist

Last Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, I went to San Martin (Sunday), El Jardin school (Monday), and San Julian high school (Tuesday).  It was my first time visiting San Martin so I went to meet different community members and put up some publicity posters for the English classes.  Activity in the church in San Martin has dropped off a bit and we are hoping that these English classes can bring a bit more community back to the... community.  I rode up on Sunday with Abel, the pastor in this area.  He is from Cuba.  We spent the bus ride discussing San Martin, what the area was like, general characteristics of the families there, etc.  This neighborhood is also home to many immigrant families and tensions run high here on the outskirts of bigger cities between Ticos (Costa Ricans) and Nicas (Nicaraguans).  (Note:  Nicas can be used as a derogatory term so don't go throwing it around if you decide to visit.)  Abel and I also spent a good thirty minutes talking about all the food we liked, including an exhaustive list of all the American food chains in Costa Rica including, but not limited to, McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's, Pizza Hut, Subway, and, our favorite, Quizno's.  Since Abel loves these food chains, it was all I could do to NOT spend another thirty minutes describing to him what he was missing out on with Chik-fil-A and Bojangle's.  There's only so much bonding over American cuisine you can do before it turns to obnoxious arrogant overkill.

I met a teacher, a few youth from the church, and some families while I was there.  One of those families included a mother of nine (one in the oven).  They are fantastically energetic despite their responsibility to care for those younger than them and I enjoy the family's company immensely.  This is the house where I will be staying if/when it rains so much that I won't be able to make it out of the neighborhood due to landslides and floods that wash out the dirt roads and derail the buses.

I think this community will take the longest to integrate because they seem much more disconnected and scattered about than the other communities.  On top of the fact that I will be giving these classes in the church and not in the school where there is an expectation of attendance and a consequence of grades.  These classes are optional and free, meaning I better be really good if I'm going to draw a crowd.  We decided that I will be giving these classes on Sundays from 10am - 12pm (give or take an hour of course) for youth in the area; those in school and those already graduated but just interested.  I have no idea how many will show up tomorrow but I did manage to get one young woman's number who I promised a call if I didn't see her at the church.

After I spent the morning/afternoon in San Martin, I left at 1:30pm and arrived in El Jardin on Sunday night at 6:30pm.  On Monday I went to see the principal at the El Jardin school and talk to him about helping out.  He rode in on his motorcycle, and by in, I mean, literally drove his bike through the school gate and straight on into the door of his classroom.  When he emerged, he shook my hand and introduced himself.  I told him who I was and why I was here.  As I began to ask if he would have any use for me he said "Great!  Our English teacher is only here Wednesday through Friday.  You can fill her spot Mondays and Tuesdays teaching six classes from 7am to 4:30pm!"  I hesitated a little at the quickness of the job offer and unquestioning trust with which he allotted me.  I explained that I could only come Mondays as I will be working in San Julian on Tuesdays.  He laughed a little and said "Perfect!"  I tried to ask him a few questions about schedules, what grades I would be teaching, when classes started, what the students had already gone over, etc.  He told me that the schedule "changes all the time" and that I'll be "teaching most of the kids."  So with that he shook my hand again, said thanks, and walked away just like that.  Get position at school:  check.  Information about position:  next to nothing.  It is with that I have spent the latter part of the week preparing for.

The next day I went to San Julian and met up with the English teacher, Edgar.  He is fantastic.  He speaks in terms of hours and class schedules and specific days.  He also is a good teacher, energetic with the students and introducing new concepts with activities.  I asked him when he would like me to help and he told me as much as I am able.  We decided I would help him with his first class, which are the sophomores, then his second class, the freshman.  The second class is really big so we'll be splitting it up to do activities for more individual attention.  He then moved his senior class from Fridays to Tuesday afternoons so I could help them with their national exam.

I asked Edgar if I could observe his first two classes that day just to see what it was like and he agreed.  The first class was lively and funny.  They all have big personalities and made it enjoyable to watch.  The second class is much larger and freshman, no less.  There are about 25-30 students in this class.  Today they were assigned to pick one of the two English songs they had learned and sing it for the teacher as a class grade in pairs.  All the students were ordered to stand outside as they would be called in for their performance pair by pair.  It felt like a spin off of American Idol where instead of all the contestants being flamboyantly confident and ready for stardom, they were intensely shy and at times straight up unwilling to perform.  Students peered in through the windows and sat quietly outside of the door to hear their classmates stumble and waver through the songs.

You might be surprised at the singling out of students or the forced participation in activities of an extroverted nature, but do not be, for this is not a characteristic of cultural grooming unique to Costa Rica, instead every Latin American country I have visited.  In Chile, teachers call students' grades out in front of the entire class as students "booooo" and applaud grades below and above average.  In my experience, Latin American educators, parents, and authority figures of all walks of life enjoy watching children squirm and writhe under the spotlight of unwanted attention.  It seems that the ability to defeat timidity is a virtue valued in this society.

The students, older than children at the elementary school and thus well-versed in these public advertised obstacles, did well and sung their songs about numbers and days of the week as best they could.  After each performance, Edgar and I would discuss each student and assign them a grade.  To say it wasn't fun would be a lie.

I enjoy so much my time in these rural areas with these children because they are always so genuinely interested in who I am, where I come from, and what I, as a person, can offer to their lives; what I can add to their own story.  I think that's a blessing of rural life.  Now, I'm not trying to get all cliche and talk about how living without TVs and cell phones and iPods and video games would be a better life, but I am going to say that without those things so readily available, you are forced to consider those around you entertainment in themselves.  Leisure is sharing someone's company and pleasure is taken in conversation.  In turn, communing with those around you is as much as a necessity as it is a joy.  It is a source of recreation and a worthy pastime.  I think it is this reason, this cultural difference, that encourages the students to welcome me and show such wholehearted and enthusiastic interest in my presence - because I can be a part of their story, their lives.  They make me feel like the more I offer up of myself, the more effort I put into the relationships around me, the more valuable I am to who they are.  They allow all those who pass through their lives the opportunity to make an impact in it.  In turn, it seems that their hearts are always open to be changed by those they meet.  More simply put, they are more aware of the fact that other people exist.  How I wish I gave all those around me even the smallest chance to do the same in me.

Anyway, I left on Tuesday with a final schedule (for now) of the next two months or so:

Sunday - travel to San Martin, class for youth from 10am - 12pm, leave San Martin at 1:30pm, arrive in El Jardin at 6:30pm, stay at Hazel's house that night

Monday - teach 6 classes at El Jardin school from 7am - 4:30pm; bike to San Julian and stay at church in that town

Tuesday - teach classes at San Julian school from 7am - 2:00pm; bike to El Jardin and stay at church in that town; stay in San Jose

Wednesday - travel back to San Jose at 5am; arrive at 11am; work in office during afternoon; stay in San Jose

Thursday - individual tutoring sessions at ILCO offices with Xinia, Rodolfo, and Bishop Melvin; stay in San Jose

Friday - work in office preparing lessons for upcoming week; stay in San Jose

Saturday - day off; stay in San Jose

Now, how long this schedule will last is something all together different as I will be working in these communities, reporting progress and participation, etc.  If a community does not want the classes or isn't present enough to take advantage of them or if I feel that there are communities who could use classes more than the one I'm in, the schedule will change.  I'm beginning to realize that part of my job is not only to teach English but to shape the entire program by giving feedback and being the guinea pig so that the next volunteer will have a program much better widdled down than the one now.  They will know who to talk to, what to expect, what areas need work in the communities, what works well, what doesn't, and what areas need what from them.  I'm here to establish needs and goals of communities as much as I'm here to provide a means for meeting those needs.

This is quite a responsibility that takes more self-initiative, face-to-face contact, logistical planning, and notebook paper than I ever thought necessary; however, I'm two weeks in and haven't lost my head yet.  (Prayers welcome.)  Tomorrow starts the beginning of my first official week of classes (even though I started tutoring sessions last week).

Onto last night, with pictures.  Friday night Christina and Brenda, two young women who work at the ILCO offices, in the youth and children's branches respectively, invited me to a see a play with the rest of the university students from the church and the pastor, Erik, from La Carpio.  Brenda came to visit the states last year and stayed at my house so it was nice to have her familiar face welcome me.  We went to a play in downtown San Jose in a small theater.  It was obvious that the play was very local and low budget as it was being put on in the one roomed art museum of the building.  There were only about 20 people in the audience, but they set it up well.  The second picture below of the yellow building shows the entrance to the small room where the play was held.

This is my friend Claudia who also went to the play.  She is the receptionist at ILCO and provides me with all the information I never knew I needed.

Entrance to theater.  The person in the bottom right corner is Erik, the pastor from La Carpio.

This is Brenda posing with one of the featured pieces of art in the museum where the play was.

The play was the outbreak of stories in recent years about church officials taking advantage of children in regards to sexual harassment and abuse.  A serious topic to say the least.  The play had four actors who played different characters ranging from the children themselves, to the Fathers in Catholic churches, to the investigators who tried to uncover the story.  The play was very abstract in that in was more of a montage of scenes including testimonies from children to dance scenes of robotic motions.  The children's testimonies were the hardest to hear.  The actors did a fantastic job in the sense that while they were speaking about what had happened to them they remained a sense of innocence during the monologue, never suspecting the Father of fowl play and blinded by naivity.  That was probably the saddest part - that most children during the interviews, as depicted by the actors, remembered fondly the games the Father played with them like hide-and-go-seek or how the Father told them how much he loved them.  They would get confused when they spoke of the sexual abuse, not understanding what was happening to them, and getting upset about how it felt, but never suspecting the Father of foul play.  Simply confused, never doubting the Father's love for them or his good intentions.  It was heartbreaking.  Other scenes had interviews with mothers of these children who were in denial of the situation.  I enjoyed the play though struggled to understand some of the more abstract scenes of dancing and song.  Overall, I thought the play effect in its ability to twist your stomach into knots at the thought of such horrific abuse towards the defenseless.

After the play, Brenda, Christina and I went out  dancing in downtown San Jose.  Below are some pictures of us waiting around in a park for two former German volunteers who were going to go out with us.

Christina is on the left, Brenda is on the right.  Brenda is from Nicaragua.

This is a picture of the National Theater where plays, poetry readings, operas, and other performances happen during the year.

When we finally met up with the Germans, we went to a bar and played pool.  Thomas is one of the German volunteers taking a shot.  Christina and Brenda are trying to "help" him by giving him really good "advice" so he doesn't miss the shot.

This is Brenda and the other former volunteer, Johann.  Brenda likes to dance.  I don't think she stopped moving the entire time we were in the bar.

Below is a 360 view of San Jose as I walk to the offices from my home in San Sebastian.  It's about a 30 minute walk, but as I told you, no matter where you look, there is always a lush mountain top painted with white smoke and mist from yesterday's rain and preparing for this afternoon's.

I am off tomorrow morning back to San Martin for my first class, if anyone shows up that is.  Then to El Jardin on Monday and San Julian on Tuesday.  Wish me luck on Monday as I willingly throw myself into a pit of hundreds of indefatigable and spry elementary students.

I'll tell the howler monkeys you all said hello and to keep it down.

Garden for Garden's Sake

A good friend of mine, actually the best of the best, Amy Greenwood, told me that while the text is nice and all, pictures might be a nice break from the riptide of words I have slung upon my blog as of late.  So, in turn, the first picture blog:

The three pictures above show the house and 2 family members (out of 7) with which I stayed the first night I stayed in El Jardin.  Every home in El Jardin has a view just as the second picture mainly because it consists of about 4 dirt roads all connecting in some long, tangled manner.  I'm surprised the place even has a name...  The houses are built right along the gravel pathways because, as you can see, there's really no reason to build a home "secluded in the country" because anymore secluded and they'd be living in the banana trees themselves.  The mother on the right was on her way to work on the banana plantation at 6:00am after she had already risen at 4:00am to prepare everything for her family, as I've already told you.

Above is a little girl named Jahayda.  Her family is Nicaraguan and though she was born in Costa Rica, as I've told you, she probably will be considered a Nicaraguan immigrant the rest of her life because her family has not registered her in San Jose to get her legal documents due to a lack of financial resources and time.  She is one of the girls I spent two hours with the first time I went up to El Jardin and grilled about schedules and subjects and teaching materials so I could get a good idea of what to expect when I began teaching.  They were more than obliging.  After I got done, Jahayda asked me if I could read and I said yes.  She ran to her house (she is part of the family that lives on the church property and takes care of it while Nehemias is gone) a few yards away, grabbed a book, and threw herself back into the children's room we were sitting in at the church.  She asked me to read her the book.  It was in Spanish so I began.  After I read a couple pages, unable to contain it any longer, she burst into recitation and tore through the rest of the pages at record speed.  She was so excited at her ability and my unwavering attention that she stuttered and stumbled over words but they cost her no discouragement.  She would often look up at me for affirmation, while still mumbling the words she no doubt knew by heart, smiled, and then returned to the page.

Many times the girls in El Jardin who live in an around the church will come up to me and ask me to speak English.  I always speak at the breathtaking speed of the tail end of an infomercial warning of a product's possible result in things like death and cancer and use ridiculous words that even sound funny in English like "thing-a-ma-jig" and "discombobulated."  Throughout my entire spiel, the girls jaws drop inch by inch until they are half smiling and half drooling.  I figure if the ability to do that isn't encouragement to learn English, I don't know what is.  It's funny to consider speaking English a talent though, as a native speaker.  It's like them asking me to scratch a bug bite or blink.  But as an English speaker in a Spanish-speaking country I can empathize with their fascination at the fluidity of a foreign language.

The church here is built on a piece well-sized piece of land.  It is a one-roomed church/sanctuary/fellowship hall.  Behind the multi-functional church room is the house of the family who lives on the land to take care of it when no one is here.  They are lines of clothing zig-zagging their way across the yard to a small awning that houses a place for a wooden fire pit to make bread, cook chicken, etc.  In front of that is the water pump and  small well.  Finally there is a small room with open windows built for children's activities.  The rest of the land is occupied by a garden.  

Behind Jahayda is the "ecological sanctuary" that is being cultivated on the church's land in El Jardin.  It is Nehemias's goal to help the community grow their own produce instead of buying it from the grocery store, develop their own medicine, create their own shampoo and perfume; sustainable stuff like that.  They have planted over 200 species of plants in the garden including vegetables, fruits, flowers, ferns, trees, and so forth.  To look out over the small piece of land budding (pun totally intended) with potential and fertility is quite a site.  At times the whole garden seems to be raising its arms in praise, swaying back and forth to the hallelujah of the wind, and multiplying right before your eyes.  It is brimming with promise of color and nourishment and often it feels like the garden's fence will burst at the seams.  He says that many community members and children, some not even part of the church, will come in certain days and just water a few plants or pull some weeds.  

I took a walk through the garden while I was there on Monday and stopped when I saw five butterflies playing musical chairs on some long-stemmed red flowers.  I stood close enough to watch them tentatively drink the plant's nectar through their straw-like tongues and move on to the next.  I have never been a garden person.  I don't really enjoy looking at plants nor care what their names are.  I forget enough peoples' names enough as it is.  I've always enjoyed gardens as a solid background, a backdrop for something more entertaining - a picnic, game of football, a serious talk on a park bench.  However, looking at this garden now, watching these butterflies carry on listlessly, I realized that this garden was here, in part, for the sake of being here.  Because someone thought it would bring beauty and fruitfulness, not solely for practical reasons, but for the purpose of existence. And it reminded me of the saying "art for art's sake" then I thought "beauty for beauty's sake," and finally, "garden for garden's sake."  People create things that are beautiful because even though we are broken, we are good.  And even though we are good, we need art and beauty and gardens to remind ourselves that there are things worth believing in whether or not we can prove it.

The girl in the first picture is named Wendy.  She is the neighbor of the house in which the pictures above were taken.  The other girl is Marilin (Maryilyn).  She lives in the house.  She lives there with her mother, Estebana (Hondurian) who is in the last picture, her father (Nicaraguan), and her sister, Hazel who is in the second to last picture.  Hazel is 20 and Marilin is 10.  They have four other brothers and sisters living in different parts of Costa Rica so it is only those four that occupy the house.  This the family with which I have been staying when I go up to El Jardin.  They are beautiful, beautiful people and carry themselves with an ease and comfort that gives you no choice but to relax in their presence as well.

The fruit that you see above is called a mamon chino.  I don't think we have a translation for mamon in English, but it is a "chinese mamon."  I talked about them before and told you how delicious they are.  Well now you can see for yourselves in what a strange package God put them in.  I'm not sure if this is Marilin's favorite fruit, but I sat with her one afternoon and watched her eat 32 of these back to back.  It couldn't have been 30 minutes before she finished the entire bowl, then finished the ones in front of me, after politely asking of course.  If this isn't her favorite fruit, I'd pay to see her interact with what is and with what hunger she would approach it.

All the houses here are essentially made out of wood, a cement base, and a tin roof.  There are usually a couple bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen.  There are also huge windows cut out in each wall that are promptly opened as soon as the sun rises to let the air circulate since there is no air conditioning.  It's one of my favorite parts of the house.  The front porch and the huge open window behind it that allows light and air to filter into the living room.  It is from this window that I often stand propped up against the window sill sucking an orange's pulp dry or juggling a handful of mamons  and watch the world, as it is in El Jardin, saunter by on the road in front of the house.

In this house I sleep in an extra room they have on a mattress on the floor.  Everyone goes to sleep around 7:30 or 8pm as everyone rises around 4-4:30am.  The roosters start cock-a-doodle-dooing around 3:30, the chickens cluck cluck soon after.  The dogs begin their morning banter around 4am as if lazily trying to mark territory with howl instead of urine.  The crickets and frogs, carrying the banner throughout the night, take a bow at 4:30am and are replaced by a steady stream of gravel-churning wheels from bicycles to busses to taxis to motorcycles to cars.  But what puts all to shame and mediocrity are the howler monkeys that join in around 5am.  It is these band members that are said to be the loudest land animal on the planet in which their bellows can be heard up to three miles away.  The thing about that is, I am not three miles away from them, so you can imagine the rise in decibels in which this close proximity results.  It goes a little something like this:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdnwLX5m3G8.  It is this orchestra of noises to which I wake up to in El Jardin.

they LITERALLY would NOT fit

Sooooooo... Thursday morning and afternoon I spent going through more ESL material that ILCO had in its library as well as reading scripts in a voice recorder for a video about ILCO that the communications/delegation coordinator, Rodolfo, is working on.  At 2 Nehemias and I set out for the bus terminal to go to El Jardin/San Julian.  We took a bus from ILCO offices to downtown San Jose, then a taxi from downtown San Jose to the bus terminal.  There we bought a bus ticket for Puerto Viejo.  This bus trip takes about 2 hours, from San Jose to Puerto Viejo.  It's not a bad ride, actually quite beautiful when you are winding your way through the mountains.  During the day, before it has rained, the temperature can get quite hot, but as soon as we get in the middle of those rainforests, the temperature drops a good 15 - 20 degrees. It's fascinating.  I actually used my jacket for the first time other than to protect myself from rain.  The one drawback of this ride is that the bus seats are really close together.  Now, I already know what you're thinking; "Yeah, must be a tight space... pretty cramped... just like riding on a small airplane... I hate when my knees touch the back of the seat..."  No.  You do not understand.  I have ridden busses in Chile, Argentina, Spain, and the Dominican Republic.  Those were tight spaces.  Those were cramped.  Those were not comfy.  I LITERALLY could NOT fit my legs in the space between the back of the seat in front of me and the end of mine.  Still, I can see you picturing my knees pressed into the back of the seat in front me, making indentures, my knee caps pinned against the cushion.  No.  I LITERALLY could NOT fit my legs in teh space between the back of the seat in front of me and then end of mine.  Nehemias let me in first and by the time I had finally positioned myself that allow me to put my butt in the seat, my feet, legs, knees and upper thighs were all completely in his space.  As most Latin Americans have no problem intruding on others' space, this seemed to be even a bit much for Nehemias who consequently looked at me strange as my legs enveloped his seat, until the geometry of the situation finally lit a candle on the situation and he smiled at me, sympathetically.  He let me sit on the outside seat where I could put both legs in the aisle.  I don't know what class of kindergartenders that bus was built for, but it has certainly been misplaced.

Nehemias is from Peru but has been living in Costa Rica since the 80's.  He is an older man and is the pastor for the El Jardin/San Julian area.  He specializes in agriculture, growing plants and flowers and things of the sort.  He teaches a class at the local school and has been the main resource for the ecological sanctuary that has been built at the Lutheran church in El Jardin.  It is quite big, very fertile, and gorgeous.  Members of this community use the garden to produce food, make soap, and grow medicinal plants for home remedies.  Nehemias hopes to make this community more self-sustainable given their poor economic condition.  Nehemias is a soft-spoken man who is well-liked and is always engaging in conversation with strangers about the church and how much it would like to be a part of every community members life.  He is definitely an example of respectful evangelism and this is only strengthened by his unassuming nature and the sincerity that is so evident to others when he speaks.

After the 2 hour bus ride from San Jose, Nehemias and I got off in Puerto Viejo.  Right outside the bus stop is a huge field that is the local school's where the student body's marching band was practicing.  They had enough students for about 5 drumlines, along with some random horns and uninspired wand twirlers.  They sounded energetic though and their music echoed off the cement walls of the town.  Nehemias showed me the pastor's house in Puerto Viejo; a small place with a bathroom, bed room, and large front area with picnic tables and a hammock.  This is where I would have stayed when I worked on Mondays and Tuesdays in El Jardin/San Julian had not the bus schedule made it impossible for me to work with students before or after 1pm in the afternoon, as this is when the first bus arrives in El Jardin and the last bus to leave.  I was also lucky enough to have a few of the families in these communities open their house up to me.

The bus ride from Puerto Viejo to El Jardin takes about an hour to an hour and a half.  It is necessary to savor the first 5 minutes of the bus ride as it is the only part of the trip on a paved road.  The rest is treaded on skinny gravel roads that snake through thousands of acres of bannana and pineapple plantations.  As the drivers speed through these back roads, the tires churn up all the loose rocks that sit listlessly on top of the dirt.  This means that, proportionally, the faster the bus travels, the more rocks are spit in different directions.  The speed of the bus also kicks up a dust storm that would put the whole midwest to shame and it seetps into the bus from the open windows.  As you ride, you can hear the gravel hit the belly of the bus, the axle, and the glass bus doors with a noise so sharp, loud, and unexpected it would make Lot's wife scream.  The unpatterned nature of these smacks, bangs, and doinks makes you a little on edge until you begin flinching and ducking at each resulting collision like a shell-shocked war veteran.  This joy ride was also spent wedged between two fine young gentlemen whose aversion to the unspeakable heat the non-air-conditioned bus produced caused them to sit spread eagle with their outside legs plastered to mine in a mixture of cotton and sweat.  There are no bus stops on this ride which is what makes the trip 1 1/2 hours instead of 45 minutes.  As soon as someone pulls the string to alert the bus driver that they need to get off, he will stop.  In result, the bus could, theoretically, make a stop every 50 feet, and towards the end of the trek, when the houses started getting closer and closer together and we began to approach the town instead of the vacant fields of banana tress, this became much less of a theory and more of a realtiy.  This is how I arrived to El Jardin.

Nehemias and I caught the 5pm bus from Puerto Viejo so we arrived at dusk around 6:30pm.  We first came to family's house occupied by one mother and two daughters.  The mother's name is Estebana, the oldest daughter, 20, is Hazel, and the youngest daughter, 10, is Marilin (like Madi - leen).  I sat and talked with them for a while and told them why I was here.  I explained that I planned on visitin the school in El Jardin and the high school in San Julian the next morning so that I could talk with the principals about helping out with English classes and offering reinforcement classes after school to 12th graders who have their national exams coming up in November.  Marilin attends the school in El Jardin and Hazel attends the high school in San Julian.  They both informed me that they didn't think either principal would be at school the next day because it was Friday and many Fridays the principals don't come in (don't ask me why).  So, the decided they would call their teachers, ask for their respective principal's number, and ask them to be there the next day.  I found it strange that they would have the home and cell phone numbers of their teachers and have such easy access to this information for their principals, but as is life in Costa Rica.  Word of mouth.  They both called to no avail and I was left feeling pretty disappointed as I left their house.  I knew that coming to El Jardin was purposeful in meeting many of the families and people who would more than likely be taking me in over the next few months, but I had really wanted to get started on working out the schedule with the principals.

That night I walked to another family's house where I would be staying that night.  Somehow, in the middle of the country, this house was capable of seeming more off the map than the rest of it.  Three dirt roads later we finally arrived at their house.  It was pretty and has just been built within the last two years as their house on their banana plantation had caved in due to its antiquity.  The family was made up of a mother and father and five children (three boys, all older, and two girls).  The mother told me she had never had a foriegner stay with her before so the night was spent with a lot of tip-toeing around each other.  I spent most of my time in the kitchen talking with the mother and the two girls as the men/boys watched TV in the living room.  She told me of how she met her husband, what they did for a living, where she was born, etc.  She always seemed cautious not to talk too much and always seemed surprised when I laughed at her jokes.  The girls were just as hesitant as they eyed me for the better part of the night and smiled as I looked in their direction.

They took me out to the back porch where they had three bright green baby parrots in a box.  They had found them in a rotten tree trunk on their banana plantation and had raised them.  They were gorgeous though I made sure to stay a yard length away in case one of them decided to snack on some fingers.  The mother fed me dinner that night - rice, beans, and pork - and then I went to bed around 9pm as did the rest of the family.  Around 4:30am I heard the mother stirring in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast for her husband and children.  By the time I got up at 5:30am, she had already washed their clothes, made their breakfast, put away the dishes, pumped the water, ironed clean clothes, and swept the house.  I ate breakfast there and walked back into town with one of the girls.  As we were leaving, the mother strapped on her boots and walked with us.  I asked where she was going and she said to work.  Wow.  When I relayed this story to Stephen Deal, he said that that is the life of those who live in the country in Costa Rica.  To bed with the sun and up with the chickens... or roosters... or something like that.  To hear about that expression sounds quaint and honest, to see it was impressive and unbelievable.  The other daughter didn't have school because her teacher was not coming in that day.  When we got into town we found out the entire school was closed that Friday.  I asked the little girl why and she said "because nobody's coming in today."  Right.

It seems the form of hospitality in the country does not comprehend the word "no," "no thank you," or "that's okay, I'm just fine."  I tried all these expressions and was still left eating three more meals than I had anticipated, all refusing money for their services.  Though I was appreciative, by the fourth plate of rice and beans, I could eat no longer and left the majority on my plate, the need to be hospitable becoming less of a concern.

We left the house at 6:30am and I stopped by Hazel's house to say hello.  She told me that she couldn't get in contact with either principal but she would try El Jardin's school principal right then.  He finally answered and she shoved the phone in my direction.  I spoke with him and explained who I was and what I was doing there.  He was very friendly and assured me that he would love to have me at the school; however, he would not be in today and encouraged me to come on Monday to talk to him.  That was progress enough.  I then asked about the San Julian high school, Hazel called, and it turned out the principal would be in that morning.  I walked to the church where Nehemias had slept and told him the news.  He got his stuff together, we borrowed a bike from Hazel, and set out for the school in San Julian.  It's about a 2-3 mile distance but it is mostly flat so the ride wasn't that bad.  In all honesty it felt good to get my blood moving after the long bus rides the day before and there is something very playful about riding a bike that always lifts my spirits.  So, despite the beating sun, the bike ride went smoothly.

Right before arriving to the school, Nehemias pulled over and we stopped at the Lutheran Church in San Julian - a small one-roomed building.  We washed our faces with cold water and sat inside the sanctuary and talked.  Nehemias explained many things about the communities (El Jardin/San Julian) that I did not know.  He told me how most of the population were undocumented immigrants from Nicaragua.  He explained that the majority of the parents are Nicaraguan but most of their children were born here in Costa Rica, making them by default Costa Rican citizens; however, as these children are born in the country and not in hospitals, they are not given proper documentation.  In order to get these documents, they must go to San Jose, have their parents documents, and prove their citizenship.  This can take months and a few trips to San Jose.  Nehemias told me that since most of these families are well below the poverty line, they do not have the resources to make trips to San Jose or send for their documents in Nicaragua.  In result, many of these children, though technically Costa Rican citizens, grow up their whole lives in this community but graduate high school and are treated as undocumented immigrants, which they technically are.  Just as in the United States, if a student is an undocumented immigrant or does not have a social security number, birth certificate, etc. they are allowed to attend public school but are not permitted into the university.  Nehemias explained all this to me to show me what a struggle it would be to get students to attend a class outside of the school as their motivation levels are low considering their future prospects in regards to a college education.  He also shared that many of the girls in these schools already have children, jobs, drop out for a certain period of time to help bring in an income to their families and then return to school.  He said that they have many obligations outside of school that they will attend to.  Many classes have been brought to the community but people only attend sporadically and that was his fear for my English classes.  His best suggestion was to do the classes within times already set up by the school and go from there.  My one saving grace was that having graduating high school was still beneficial to the students and passing this national exam was still important to their future, even if college was not in the plans or simply not an option.  For that I hoped that many students would take advantage of what I have to offer.

We arrived at the high school in San Julian around 9am and asked a student where the principal was.  He went and got her and we introduced ourselves.  I told her why I was there and for what and as quickly as I met her, she passed me off to the English teacher, told me she was glad to have me, and to just work everything out with him.  I didn't mind though because the English teacher was truly the one I needed to speak with about scheduling, material, and the general attitude of the students.  He told me the days/times he taught English, with whom, told me about reinforcement classes after school, and other information that was extremely important.  I asked him what students needed most help and he said that the freshman need the most help because many of them come in speaking no English at all.  He also mentioned the sentiors because of their national exam.  I told him that I would come back Monday to finalize a schedule with him as I had not spoken with the school in El Jardin yet.  He was very open and confident and it went really well.  Nehemias and I biked back to El Jardin and stopped at Hazel's house to give her her bike back.  The trip turned out to be very productive afterall and I thanked God for that.

This is the information I gathered while I was there:

El Jardin school:

There are two groups of students that attend school.  The first group arrives at 7am and leaves at 11:30am (give or take of course).  The second group arrives at 12:00pm and leaves at 4:30pm.  There are six grades in this school - kindergarden to 5th grade.  They have five courses:  English, math, science, social studies, and Spanish.

Problem:  I had planned on splitting my time between the school in El Jardin and San Julian by working at the school in the morning and the high school in the afternoon so that the students could get two days of exposure than just one; however, if I only attended the morning session, I would only be working with one group of students and not the other.  I didn't see this is a fair option.

Solution:  I will spend all Monday at the El Jardin school so that I can be in contact with both groups of students without excluding one.  I decided that this was a good option because 1) the students already have an English teacher so only have one day of exposure to my lessons and resources is not as dramatic of a drawback.  I do not know the quality of English education, but this is how it has to be.  And 2) the main purpose of my working in the school is to essentially stir up excitement, enthusiasm, and motivation to learn a foreign language as it will be a subject they will take throughout the rest of their academic career and benefit them in the future.

San Julian school:

There are 5 grades in this school who attend from 7am to 2pm on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, and from 7am to 11:30am on Thursday and Fridays (don't ask me why).  It turns out that since the national exams are coming up the first week in November, the students have reinforcement classes Mondays - Thursdays from 2 - 4 (except Thursday it's from 11:30 to 1:30).  They have these classes for science, math, social studies, and Spanish.  They do not, however, have reinforcement classes for English.

Problem:  The English teacher teaches English classes to the seniors on Thursdays and Fridays which I cannot attend because I will be doing individual tutoring sessions for ILCO staff.  Also, the students already have reinforcement classes for other subjects and they are probably not going to want to spend another two hours after their extra two hours working on English.

Solution:  The English teacher said that the freshman and seniors need the most help.  This means that I will spend Tuesday morning helping out the English teacher with his other classes (freshman, sophomores, etc.) from 7am to 10:40 am.  The teacher also told me that he could get one of his teacher friends to switch their reinforcement class day out for another so that I could do a reinforcement class on Tuesday afternoon from 2 to 4.

And this is to be my schedule in El Jardin/San Julian if all goes well on Monday when I talk to the principal of the El Jardin school and the teacher in San Julian again.

Of course, everything will change at the end of September when the seniors to do not have classes anymore until the first week of November when they are expected to take their national exams.  Instead, they come to school to study each day but do not actually have classes and it is not mandatory for them to be there.  (Please, please, please don't ask me why).  However, I figure during that time, the month of October, I can spend all my time on Tuesday helping with English reinforcement classes for seniors during the day.  We'll see though.  Playing it by ear is a way of life, I'm learning.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on Hazel and Marilin's porch waiting for the bus to pass by their house and take me back to Puerto Viejo at 1pm.  Marilin was working on homeworking drawing different fruits and vegetables and I helped her as much as I could.  She then took me out in their back yard and showed me all the trees they had.  You would not believe how many trees growing fruits they have.  To list a few:  bananas, platanos, water apples, oranges, lemons, nancies (I don't know what they are), and literally about 5 more that I can't remember.  They also have these fruits called mamones.  They are bright red and orange with soft spikes sticking out around the whole sphere.  You bite them open with your teeth and inside is a ball of fruit.  It has the texture of a grape without its peel and has a large seed in the middle.  I can't describe the taste because I've never tasted anything like it, but it was delicious.  I'll upload pictures of it soon.

Today is Saturday and I finally moved back into the house in San Sebastian after living at Xinia's for a while.  I'll stay the night here tonight then meet Pastor Abel at the bus terminal tomorrow so that we can go to San Martin tomorrow.  I'll attend church with him, talk to the community members and try to finalize a schedule with them, and then head back over to El Jardin.  I have to get there Sunday night because if not, I would get into town until 1pm and I'm supposed to speak with both schools to finalize schedules on Monday morning.

What a week, what a week.  And I haven't even been here a week yet... hahah.

Won't have internet until Tuesday or Wednesday night, I'll write then.  Keep up the good work and please remember to appreciate daily your clean tap water.

Flying Candy

I went to La Carpio on Wednesday afternoon with Pastor Erik, the pastor for that community.  Like many of the ILCO communities, as I've told you, La Carpio is made up of many nationalities, mostly immigrants, the majority being from Nicaragua.  I went there because Wednesdays are schedules to be my days off/used for lesson planing, but since I haven't started classes yet we decided I should do some getting to know people.

The bus to La Carpio takes about 45 minutes from downtown San Jose.  Erik met me at the bus stop downtown so we could ride together.  Circling the bust stops are many street vendors selling purses, toys, lottery tickets, candy - you name it.  While we were waiting in line, a man selling candy out of a cardboard box lost his balance and dumped the whole contents on my feet.  I, of course, bent down and began scooping up his treats and tossing them, handful by handful, back into the box.  Erik, who had his back turned to me while standing in line, missed the entire ordeal and only turned around as I was fixing a problem that I did NOT create.  He found it amusing to spend the first 30 minutes of the bus ride to La Carpio blaming the whole fiasco on my and questioning whether or not he should allow me in the daycare with all the children at La Carpio.  He made me promise not to steal their toys or throw their treats on the ground and stomp on them.  Sweet guy...

La Carpio went well though.  I met Pastora, the main daycare worker there.  (PS - if you were wondering, she is NOT a pastor, that is just a common Nicaraguan name.  I found this out after she introduced herself as Pastora and I said, oh no, I'm not a pastor...)  I spent the rest of the time playing with the children.  It's fascinating how quickly children are ready to welcome in outsiders.  I wasn't there 3 minutes before I got pulled down to the table and spent the next 2 hours working out a puzzle with about 10 hands grabbing at all the pieces.  Kinda makes you wonder when we lose that openness and why.  Why we feel so inclined to use our group of friends or family as a barrier to keep others out.  What do we need to unlearn to get back to the genuine and immediate hospitality of children?

I left La Carpio around 5 by myself since Erik had some work to do there that night.  This meant I had to navigate two busses by myself for the first time, the second one in the dark.  All went well until I got scared that I was going to miss my stop so I accidentally got off 8 blocks early and had to walk the rest of the way to the church to meet up with Xinia.  Super cool and not scary at all... Almost.

Lots to tell about my adventure to El Jardin/San Julian last night and this morning.  I'll write soon.

Rubix Cubes and Work Schedules

Yesterday was a whirlwind.  It was my first day at the ILCO offices, since Monday was a national holiday.  What national holiday you might ask?  Mother's day.  That's right.  These people know how to give credit where it's due.  Stephen told me it was a national holiday, no one went to work, it was a weekend event, and
businesses made significantly more sales than most days due to the increase in gift-buying so as not to disappoint any mothers.  Then I asked what they did for father's day and he said "nothing special."  I mean, I know parents aren't supposed to show any favoritism with their kids because they're supposed to be fair and unbiased and have that parental love sent from heaven and children aren't necessarily held to the same standard, but did the nation of Costa Rica really need to make such a public statement about most popular parent?  Seemed like an unjustified hit below the belt to me.  Regardless, glad some day I'll be a mom.  Guess you know where my family and I will be vacationing in mid-August!

Back to the whirlwind... Started off the day with a meeting with Xinia (executive director of ILCO and my boss) and Stephen.  We took care of some housekeeping stuff (internet, cell phone, copies of keys, furniture, etc.).  Then I had to go pick up all my stuff at the house in San Sebastian because it's being fumigated today.
I'll be staying with Xinia the next few days at her house in San Pablo with her husband until everything is back to normal and cleaned up at the house in San Sebastian. After that I got some lunch with the technology guy at ILCO offices, Roberto.  We went to a huge store called "Mega" and got some gallo pinto.  It's, from what I'm
told, one of the most common Costa Rican foods.  It's just pinto beans and rice mixed together.  I also got some chicken and potatoes.  I have a feeling this will be a steady part of my diet while I'm here.  After that I bought a cell phone with Roberto and the receptionist, Claudia.  I had to buy the phone, charger, a number, and minutes.  It's a prepaid phone which I like since I don't use it that much in foreign countries anyway.

At the end of the day came the tornado, figuratively speaking.  I met with Stephen and a Pastor named Nehemias to talk about scheduling in San Julian and El Jardin (two small towns about two miles from each other).  Nehemias is the community pastor in this area and he spends his weekends up there to lead Sunday services and teach a gardening class at the local school.  My original schedule planned for me to work in this area on Monday and Tuesday in the mornings and afternoons.  At the end of each day I was supposed
to go back to Puerto Viejo which is a bigger city about an hour away from that area by bus where I would stay in a pastoral house every night.  We were doing this because Stephen was under the impression that there were no families available to take me in Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday night.  The problem arose though that since these communities are almost exclusively Nicaraguan immigrant populations, there is only a limited amount of public transportation to these areas.  It turns out that there are only two busses that run from Puerto Viejo to El Jardin each day; one at 11:30am and the other at 5pm.  Then there are only two busses that run from El Jardin back to Puerto Viejo each day; one at 5am and the other at 1pm.  This made scheduling a little more difficult.  It took us a few hours to sort through the logistics of that...

What I'm supposed to do is travel to El Jardin/San Julian this Thursday, stay the night with a family in the community, and then talk with the principal and teachers of the schools on Friday morning.  There I'll need to figure out the class schedule of the students I'm working with, when they do English, whether or not I'll be
working with them during school hours or doing after school reinforcement classes, where I will stay, and what curriculum/materials/objectives these teachers have for their students in English.  The trick is going to be being assertive enough to make some decisions and hopefully start classes this coming Monday and Tuesday
without being too pushy.  Not to mention I have to catch my bus at 1pm (the last bus that leaves that area for the day!) to get back to Puerto Viejo so I can come back  to San Jose Friday night.  Challenges:  1) not being too pushy but being assertive enough to make some decisions about the next week, 2) recognizing the fact that the teachers and principals may want more time to think about scheduling or aren't ready to committ to any schedule and being okay with classes starting a week later, and 3) being prepared for a complete change in schedule (different days, different times, different students) than had originally been planned.  This has happened around 15 times with housing arrangements, meeting times, work schedule, and daily plans in the 3 days that I've been there so not being prepared for what actually happens is something I need to be... prepared for.

I will also travel to San Martin, another community I will be doing adult and youth English classes in, on Sunday with the local pastor to talk to the community there. I will be doing mainly the same thing as I did in San Julian, trying to figure out schedules, assuring them that these classes will actually take place, and discussing best times for them to meet, etc. 

The challenging part of this whole thing is that I'll be trying to work out a schedule with El Jardin/San Julian as well as with San Martin without overlapping schedules.  I won't know what one community wants while I'm talking to the other and they could overlap.  It's kind of like a rubix cube.  Once you finally get an entire line of red blocks lined up, you realize the yellows are spread out everywhere and you have to undo the perfect red line so that the yellow can get itself together.  Not to mention working around that terrible bus schedule El Jardin/San Julian have.

So, this is my big challenge of the weekend... talk with principals, teachers, and community members and try to get a committment from them on when/where/how to begin classes this coming week.  But like I said, the bigger challenge will be accepting it if it doesn't all work out today and decisions are not made until next week. I've been praying for that patience.

I am excited to meet the people in these communities and I am continuously surprised at how much responsibility is in my hands, but it is this autonomy that is most nerve-racking for me.  I have held many different positions of leadership in my school and community, but these positions are different in Costa Rica.  Here it seems, and most logically because I work in small rural villages filled with immigrants and plantation workers, that word is not spread through email or even telephones.  Instead it is by word of mouth.   If you want a group of people to convene, you better knock on their door and ask them.  You better tell a friend of their friend to be there.  In the United States it seems like I have lead people who are already trained by someone else, guide people who already know when and where they're supposed to meet, organize material
for a class that's already been scheduled.  Here, at least in this position, I am the leader and the trainer... and the organizer... and the receptionist... and the coordinator... and the publicist... and the teacher... and the technician.  I am the front man and work behind the scenes.  I think that's what everyone faces when they are attempting to start a new program.  One that has never been done before.  This is not like any mission trip I've been on where everything is already arranged for me and I just step into to teach the class, lead the workshop, paint the house.  This has to be the epitome of the accompaniment model of mission work.  I will walk alongside those with whom I work and work it out with them.  There is no middle man.  I am the middle man.  And as challenging as that is going to be and can't think of any other way it should be done.  Because at the end of the day, regardless of how many prepositions or linking verbs my students learn, I want them to know that they have a sister, a friend, in Christ somewhere else in the world that knows them by name.  Knows their story, knows who they are, and loves them.  Without being that tangible... without working side-by-side others... what would I be doing here anyway?

COSTA RICA CULTURE SHOCK:

1)  I learned last night that Costa Rica has nine provinces and within those nine provinces are regions and within those regions are towns and that is how Costa Ricans say where they're from.  San Pablo (town) of Heredia (region) of San Jose (province).  And you thought it was just their names that were really long...

2)  There are 34 micro-climates in Costa Rica.  Sunny w/ rain, rainy, cloudy, sunny w/o rain.  I'm not sure if this holds any relevance to us because I don't know how many micro-climates we have, but there it is.

3)  When Costa Ricans are given their license plates they are given a number... 1 through 10 or so.  Every day of the week there is a certain day for each car in which they are not allowed to drive.  For example, if my license plate is #2, I cannot drive my car on Mondays at all because #1 and #2s are not allowed to drive on Mondays.  Tuesdays are 3-4, Wednesdays 5-6, etc.  I think this is to cut down on the country's carbon footprint and crazy, crazy traffic they have here.

4)  Costa Ricans are called "Ticos."  This is because they use diminutives for so many words.  A diminutive is a way of conveying the smallness of an object or just for endearment purposes only.  For example, in English, a diminutive would be "doggy" instead of "dog."  Or "Johnny" instead of "John."  In Costa Rican Spanish, they do this by adding "tico" to certain nouns.  So, instead of saying "little" as "chico," they say "chiqitico" to mean "really, really little."  They add "tico" onto a lot of words and, therefore, they call themselves "Ticos."

This city is gorgeous.  Like I told you before, the best part about it is that you can be on any street in any location and you can see the mountains from somewhere.  And they are green.  But not just one shade of green - all of them.  They are the color of lime, emeralds, mint, pears, olives, evergreens, the ocean, asparagus, and moss.  And once you leave downtown San Jose, the roads start to twist and wrench and bend in all directions at 90 degree angles upwards and 180 degree loops.  It becomes obvious that San Jose was built on the only flat space of a plateau a mountain had to offer and the "suburbs" are left to wind their way through the contorts of the valleys.  This inevitably allows for every bend in the road to be worthy of a public lookout spot for the view it offers of the mountains that surround it.  We passed a cemetery today on the way to work that was placed at one of these cliffy hills that overlooks the mountains.  I thought what a shame it was that everyone there was dead and couldn't see the beauty that surrounded them.

Today I am working at the offices until 2pm reviewing all the materials and resources that ILCO has so that I can get some type of inventory started and prepare for my upcoming trips to San Julian/El Jardin and San Martin.  I also am preparing for my tutoring sessions tomorrow with Xinia and another administrative worker, the coordinator with US delegations, Rodolfo.  At 2pm I'll be heading over to La Carpio, which is a community in San Jose of Nicaraguan immigrants with a Pastor named Erik to visit the Casa Abierta (day care) in that community for a few hours.  I'll be working over there in the coming months and it'd be a good idea if I got to know some community members in that area.

Until next time.

Settin' Up Shop

I flew into San Jose today at 2pm our time, 12pm theirs.  I forgot there was a time change.  In Central America they don't have daylight savings or anything of the sort because they're so close to the equator that their sunrises and sunsets stay pretty much the same.  It's supposed to get dark around 6:30 or 7 tonight.  I sure am going to miss those 9pm sunset summer nights in North Carolina, but if it means I'll miss winter over there I think I can manage...  Stephen Deal, the man who I have been in correspondence with for the last few months working out details for the trip, picked me up from the airport today.  He drove me to the  house in San Sebastian (a neighborhood in San Jose) that will essentially be my home base for the next six months.

The neighborhood is small, generally poor, but perfect.  And the scenery is a sight to see.  It is a 360 view of the most lush green mountains surrounding the entire metropolis of San Jose.  It began to rain today in the afternoon and the fog clouds came rolling in over the tops of the mountains like they were on cue.  I was just there walking down the street feeling like if I took one step too far out of my way Id land myself smack in the middle of a rain forest.  All the houses lining the streets have beautiful flowers protruding from their gated yards.  There's also a park dedicated to John F. Kennedy right down the street.  I asked about the connection Kennedy had to Costa Rica and Stephen told me that he visited here actually soon before his assassination.  Another conspiracy theory?  I hope not.

The house I'm staying in is actually the birthplace of the Lutheran Church in Costa Rica.  It was in maybe the 1980's when the Lutheran Church here began to form and they used this house as their homebase.  They had offices here, worship services, etc.  Granted at that time there were maybe 15 people that made up the church.

The upstairs has four rooms that used to be offices and one bathroom... that is still a bathroom.  The four rooms are where the German volunteers who come to volunteer in the daycares around San Jose will be living.  These volunteers will come in a couple weeks after they spend a month in some other part of the country learning to speak English.  Stephen tells me they come speaking no Spanish so they have to have a crash course.  These guys committ to work here for a year and most of them are fresh out of high school - about 18 or 19 years old.

Their rooms are small but utterly pleasant.  It's all wood upstairs and it smells like cedar every time you turn a corner.  They also have windows that overlook other
houses around us, tree tops, and a tin roof that covers our clothes line and washing sink downstairs.  I am jealous they get to hear the rain tink off the roof so
frequently.

Downstairs is the aforementioned outside area with the clothesline and washing sink.  It is practically outside aside from the tin roof that covers the clothesline. It has a garden back there as well with bright red and purple flowers as well as very intrusive palm tree looking leaves that like to hug you as you pass by.  This area is in the back of the house.  When you walk in the house from that back area, there is the German volunteers kitchen to the right.  It has a round table, a few chairs, microwave, refrigerator, sink, etc.  It is also really well lit with natural light from the outside garden.  To the left is a room that resembles a den. It has a TV in it and a few chairs though I'd put money down it doesn't have cable.  There's also a book collection in there that I'll be sure to scower through later on.

Past these two rooms is a small hallway in where the first room on the left is my room.  It's well-sized but no outside windows - its only flaw.  Across from my room is my kitchen/the church's kitchen as well as to the left of it my/the church's bathroom and one further, our shower.  The San Sebastian community still holds church
services in this house as well as community activities like craft time for women groups, children's circles (practically Sunday School just not on Sunday), Sunday worship services, etc.  I think this means it will be a pretty packed house when I'm here, but after moving to a foreign country for six months alone I can't really
see a downside to being surrounded by people... who love Jesus.

The rest of the hall has the stairs up to the four rooms but empties into the "sanctuary."  It is a small concrete room that has many unmatched chairs where they hold church services.  This room is connected, with no wall, to the carport which is used mainly to enter and exit the house.  There is also a door in the sanctuary room
that opens to a small garden in front of the house, then another door to the sidewalk; however, it is supposed to open through a buzzer but it's broken.

Today Stephen walked me around the neighborhood to introduce me to a few neighbors so I could get acquainted with them.  To my right is an older woman who I met while she was watering the flowers in the small garden outside the front door to this house.  She came over to take out the trash, water the plants, and clean the refrigeradors.  When Stepehen asked her why she said "because it needed to be done," shrugged her shoulders and walked away.  I like her.  I also met her grand-daughter Carolina who is in college studying law and chemistry... what?  I know...  As if one or the other wasn't hard enough.  Then I met Leo, an older man who lives across the street.  He owns his own car painting store and runs it from his garage.  He is very friendly and I have a feeling I'll be watching some soccer games over at his house if he'll let me.  He explained to me that there are two main teams in Costa Rica:  La Liga (the league) and The National Team.  He is a Liga fan so I already know how I'll coax an invitation out of him.  Finally I met Lucia who lives with her sister on my left side.  They are both single moms and all five live in the house.  She has dyed red hair and was the livliest person I'd met all day.  She held her umbrella over my head the entire tiem she spoke even though I had a hood on and told me if I needed anything that I could just stop by... any time.  I believe her.  She's one of those people who makes you feel like home.

In the end, Stephen and I talked about tomorrow's plans.  He said that I would have a meeting with Xinia (essentially my boss) at 7:30am and then with all the ILCO pastors at 9:00am to figure out how to go about setting up my first classes and meetings with their communities.  What I learned today is that most of the teenagers and older students will want to learn reading comprhension for their national exam in their last year of school, adults will want to learn more conversational English so that they can use this knowledge to their advantage in a job situation, and that younger students in elementary and preschool will be looking to learn simple vocabulary, games, and songs to make learning English easier in the future.

Stephen said that English education is very poor here in Costa Rica.  He said that it is almost a national joke that English teachers here couldn't even pass the national exam they are supposed to be preparing their students to pass.  Then he explained that with standards that low throughout the country, they are simply
significantly worse in rural areas with large populations of Nicaraguan immigrants.  He said most government officials don't care of English teachers are competent in the subject in these areas.  These are the communities in which I'll be working...

I'll begin work on Thursday tutoring the two administrative workers, helping them prepare for their upcoming trips to Sweden and Texas, and the bishop.  On Friday I'll travel to San Martin to see how many people come to the adult and youth classes that are supposed to be set up on Friday night and Saturday afternoon.  Stephen said that many times the people in these communities do not believe these classes are taking place until they see them or until someone, like me, comes to their door and assures them.  He said it might take a couple of trips up there to get a class together.  He said if they still are not attending after a few tries then we can move on to another community who is more interested.

I am most excited and nervous about working in San Julian and El Jardin right outside of Puerto Viejo.  The younger group I will be working with in El Jardin are fourth graders.  This is the year they begin to learn a foreign language, mainly English; however, Stephen said he isn't even sure if there is an English teacher or
just a teacher who takes on that responsibility without any knowledge of it just because no one else will do it.  I will be able to collaborate with these teachers and find out what they are trying to accomplish, how they are doing it, and how I can help.  In San Julian I'll be working with older students in high school and I'll hopefully be able to talk to their teachers as well and find out exactly what it is they need to be learning, focusing on, etc. to pass the national exam.

It's only 5pm here and I am beat. I'm going to walk to a store to pick up some dinner and breakfast for tomorrow morning and then go to bed as early as my eyes and brain will let me.

PS - Im sure as my schedule picks up I will start writing blog posts instead of doctoral theses.  Thanks for your patience.... haha

Head 'em up and move 'em out...

Hey friends.  It's Sunday night and I'll be leaving for Costa Rica tomorrow.  Leaving the house at 5:30am... out of Asheville at 7:45am.  One stop in Atlanta and then to San Jose.  I'll get there around 12pm tomorrow afternoon.  Feels awful soon to be so far away.

I got my work schedule for the first month of my stay.  It turns out I'll be working Monday and Tuesday mornings and afternoons with elementary and high school students - two separate sesssions each in a community called San Julain.  Wednesday I have off/prepare for the rest of the week.  Thursday individual tutoring sessions with two administrative workers at ILCO (Costa Rican Lutheran Church) and the other one with the BISHOP.  Yeah...  Friday evenings I'll be traveling to San Martin, about an hour and a half from San Jose, to lead English classes for a group of adults and then Saturdays working an English class for the youth in San Martin.

A lot of the students I'll be working with will be preparing for their national exams which includes an entire section on English.  They need to pass this section to graduate high school when they are seniors.  I'm hoping I can help those kids out in San Martin and San Julian.

I'll be staying in San Jose for three nights of the week, San Martin for two nights, and San Julian for two nights.  Should be quite a schedule for the first month.