This is the end.

Well, I guess it's time for my final blog entry. 

I have tried to write this entry many times since returning to the States.  I have described and listed and ranted and started over and deleted and started over again, and nothing has been able to capture what I want to say here.

So. I’m going to start again, and this time, I promise you, I will not delete whatever I write here . I will share it, because this journey deserves a finale, and you all have supported me along the entire way.  I want to say thank you one last time and let you know what I’m up to and what my plans are. 

Here goes….

It’s been almost three months since I got back to the States.  I stayed down in Boruca for the festivals at the end of the year and then flew back on January 4^th, saying goodbye to the sunny tropics and landing back in Washington, DC where it was COLD, COLD, COLD.  I spent the first week or two going back and forth between shivering uncontrollably and reveling in the fact that I could once again wear knee-high leather boots and long pants all the time.  I think that by now my body’s gotten used to the temperature thing, but it took a while.  I slept a lot, I cried a little, I looked over photos and retreated into my shell of comfort (tea, oatmeal, good books, good shows, sleep, shower, repeat.)  As was expected, it took me  a while to get back into the swing of things Stateside.   

I’d forgotten a bunch of things about the States.  I’d forgotten the existence of various food items (kefir, for example) and hadn’t felt the luxury of wall-to-wall carpeting under my bare feet in 12 months.  The highways seemed ridiculously wide and fast (who in the world needs 6 or 7 lanes in one direction?) and the entire world, after I'd been yanked out of the jungle, seemed washed-out and colorless.  I gave away piles and piles of stuff, clothes, junk, things that suddenly seemed meaningless to me.  I got annoyed at gas pumps and the overwhelming selection at grocery stores and at the existence of central heating and AC.  ...like I said, it took a bit to adjust. 

Life here just seems so fast.  So consumer-oriented.  So stuff-and-numbers-oriented instead of natural and basic and earth-oriented.  So much of life here is planning and theorizing and looking ahead, instead of being immediate.  So many of the goods and services exchanged are brain-things, not food-and-clothing things.  There are so many wants.  Our definition of 'need' is different.     

...It’s odd how the past is always the past.  You know what I mean? Every memory we have, even though we KNOW that it has happened to us, becomes more and more distant from us and takes on a dreamlike, unreal quality as time passes.  When people ask me where I’ve been and I say ‘volunteering on an indigenous territory in Costa Rica for a year’, it’s odd to hear myself say those words and to know that, yes, that was ME, and I actually did those things.  I think that maybe, to some, it sounds like some romantic, adventurous journey full of courage and mystery? That’s what peoples’ reactions indicate.  But when I think back, what comes to mind is:

1. The simplicity.  Life in Boruca was predictable, tranquil, and based upon the basics of human survival.  I ate a rotation of the same foods, walked across the bridge to school each day, came home and walked over to sit and talk with the neighbors, read my books, and went to bed.  I did not drive anywhere, I did not have a cell phone, I almost never used makeup.  I didn’t spend much time on painting or music, because my energy was so focused on teaching and survival.  The money that I spent was on food to supplement my diet, bus fares, and small items from thrift stores. Lather, rinse, repeat.  In contrast, my life in the States includes treadmills and gas prices and text messaging and soymilk and bank statements.  Here, I have to deal with the looming future and make decisions about where I want to go, what I want to do, and who I want to become.  Life, here, seems far less simple.

2. The language.  I miss living in Spanish all the time—I’ve kept in touch with friends via gchat and Skype and emails, but it’s of course just not the same.  Luckily, my current volunteering gig at the local elementary school gives me ample opportunities to talk in Spanish with students and teachers there, and I bump into Spanish speakers all the time in day-to-day life.  Just two days ago I had a lengthy talk with a custodian at the doctor’s office who’s from El Salvador (have you ever considered what it must be like to live in a country named 'The Saviour'?)… I’m not too worried about losing my Spanish, I'm just missing having it surround me.

3. The people I met and came to love during my year in Boruca.  There were so many students that now in my memory some of them blur together; but there are individuals that stick out in my brain.  The brilliant 5^th grader dreaming of writing novels; the shy 6^th grader who wanted to be a criminologist; the 2^nd and 3^rd graders who visited me after school and danced around to the music from my laptop as they helped me clean up.  I remember stutters and buck teeth and tears and snide remarks and laughter and rolled eyes, and I hope that when these kids think back from this past year, they remember that I tried, and that they think of English class as a positive, safe place.  …. I also think of the friends I made outside of school; of my ‘2^nd family’ who I miss so much and of the parents who invited me to their houses.  I miss them.   ....on the flip side, now that I'm back in the States I get to see my parents, my uncle and cousins and nieces, my sisters and my friends, everyone who I hadn't seen for a year.  I love having people around me who know where I'm from and how I got to be who I am today, and I feel grounded here.    

4. The echo of guilt that I feel.  NOT having something meaningful to do every day here in DC has made me both more thankful for my time and work in Boruca and also a tad regretful;  I know that I did good things, but sometimes it’s hard to look back from where I am now (upper-class suburbia and all the opportunities in the world) and not think ‘I could have done better.  I could have done more.’  I think about the paths I never hiked down, the people I didn’t get to know better, the mistakes I made as an educator.  BUT… I’ve been trying to learn from all of that.  I’ve been trying to turn these negative thoughts into positive ones and fill my free time with volunteering and starting a job search aimed towards finding a job that somehow will enable me to continue making this world a better place.

I think that at this point I can start to talk a bit about how I think that last year has affected my life on a longer-term basis.  At least, I'd like to try.  I think that last year made me more patient, more assertive, and more family-oriented.  I think it showed me that I could be a full-time elementary educator, but that that probably isn't what I want to do as a career.  I think it truly showed me how crucial it is for me to nurture my body and mind; to actively reach out and maintain the friendships and relationships I want and to not pretend to be someone's friend if it doesn't feel right, even if that seems less painful than to break off the connection.  It rekindled my love of the written word and helped remind me to view the seemingly overwhelming, looming shadow of The Future as a blessing of opportunity and adventure, not a curse of indecision and fear.     

And. I just want to say:

 ....thank you to all of you for your support.  I know I've said it so many times, but there simply aren't words for it; ever since getting back so many of you have asked me questions, sent me letters, invited me over, hugged me, told me you're proud of what I did.  I hope that you all know how much I appreciate you.   

 

....ANYway!

 

I've made it through the hardest part of the transition and now, to quote the Gorillaz, the future's comin' on.  I’ve spent the last few weeks getting my health in order, volunteering, spending time with friends and family, painting, and planning an upcoming trip to Europe.  That’s right—I’ll be in Switzerland, Austria, Germany, and the Netherlands for a trip from March 28^th to May 9^th, visiting the friends I made over there during my junior year abroad and working as a Fulbright TA from 2009-2011.  I am INCREDIBLY excited but it's also so surreal to know that within a few short days I'll be back in the Alps, back speaking German, back in the land of delicious high-fat yogurt and amazing chocolate.....

....aaaand then I have to come back and Get a Job.  I'm thinking maybe something advocacy-oriented, so as to both accomplish 'doing good' and using my language skills... but who knows.  All suggestions are appreciated :)

 

I should probably stop rambling now.  Thank you one and all to everyone who has even so much as thought a positive thing in my direction over the past year.  You helped.  You helped me help others. 

 

And I will never forget it

the end is near!

i have tried and tried and tried again to write this entry. i've made lists of what i've learned in costa rica (that i am truly capable of being a full-time teacher, how mundungo tastes, what it feels like to be a racial minority), of how i've changed (now i'm trilingual, hopefully a tad more patient, and much tanner), and of things i want to remember (students' hugs and comments and gifts, the night a cobra came into the house, baby aris' first steps and words). so many paragraphs and pages i've written, only to give up and go back to the beginning all over again, because nothing seems to fit what i'm feeling right now.

but.

this blog isn't just for me. it's for all of you, all of you wonderful and caring people continents away who worry about me and want to know how i'm doing. so: i'm going to do my best with this attempt, and i promise i will post it. here goes!

i'm... barrelling towards the end of my time in central america. classes are over, exams are finished, grades have been turned in, we've had our last program meetings and said our gringa farewells. almost all of my students passed english this year, and passed it with good grades. only a handful of the 150 did not pass, and all but two of those were also failing in other subjects. the two who are being held back solely because of english nag at the back of my mind a bit, but i think that's part of being a teacher and having that odd power over a child's life.

anyway, enough seriousness.  this year has been awesome, intense,  and life-changing (for me and hopefully for my students as well!).  and because i'm struggling to find the words, i think  i'll finish this entry with a few photos from my recent tican life:

 i bought myself a handmade mask, made from one bamboo root:

aaaaaaaaaand i painted a huge mural on the wall of the english classroom with the help of my girls' group:

and and and while i'm mentioning random things, here's a picture from when my girls' group made puppets:

i'm also now the proud owner of two baby chicks, which have now grown to be significantly larger than in this photograph:

...you see, about a month ago i helped slaughter a pig, and i wanted the experience of killing a chicken myself in order to be able to continue eating chicken with a clear conscience. ...let's see if i can make myself kill laura or chinchi...

anyway, that's enough for today. wow! i actually wrote something. ...there will be more in a few weeks. i leave costa rica 5 weeks from today, actually... so incredibly surreal.

happy late thanksgiving!
besitos, raquel

(ps apologies for the lack of capital letters in this entry; the right-hand shift key of the computer i'm using is being recalcitrant)

Video project: Finished!!

Dearest readers,

I've finally finished my video project documenting my time here in Boruca.  It's set to 'Love' by Sugarland, which has been one of my songs of the year.  I had it on my mp3 player when I flew to Central America, and I plan to listen to it on my way out, too.

Here's the video: Enjoy! R

Life is Good, and I Have Photographic Proof!

Dear everyone,

Happy October!

The leaves are not turning, the winter is not coming, the wind does not promise snow anytime soon.   But the Costa Rican rains have arrived in force, lulling me to sleep, sometimes pulling me awake, drowning out lessons, seeping into houses and classrooms and supposedly sealed shoes, and leaving the roads and paths an oozingly fertile mess of mud and grass and gravel.  As I write this,  in fact, curled up under a blanket with my belly full of tea and fresh pineapple, the rain is roaring down on the roof above me.

Life is good, and for many reasons.   

My after-school girls' group has become the thing I'm most proud of from all of my time here in Costa Rica.  It's for 4th, 5th, and 6th grade girls, once a week after school (though I might make it twice a week if they want to.)  I lead them in physical games, brain games, and activities designed to make them think about themselves, their  agency, and their futures.  Last week, for example, I had them draw a person and then all the characteristics they like about  themselves--first, on the inside of the figure, everything they like about their personalities and hearts, and then, on the outside, all of the things they like about their bodies (an activity i learned in austria, actually).  Then, we did a 'group juggling' activity in a circle with beanbags, and afterwards we made an obstacle course out of the classroom using chairs, desks,and string and the girls had to help each other across it in pairs (one  blindfolded but still able to speak, the other able to see but not speak.) Another time,  we wrote stories together as a group and read them aloud.  Here are some pictures of the girls reading the stories aloud and cracking up:

... moral of the story, with my girls' group I feel like I'm truly helping these kids.  I'm giving them not only something productive and fun to do after school, but helping them hone skills like working in a team and being kind or at least a bit more positive to themselves (hopefully!) ... so  many of them spend so much time in front of TVs when they're not in school, and I think we all benefit  from being together in a relaxed, fun, cooperative environment.  Plus, this is a very patriarchial society, so it's important for young women to have a place they can feel safe to be themselves.  ....it's worth noting that some of my male students have since started asking me when we can have an all boys' group!...but as I am not a boy, that would be a bit more difficult.

I recently videotaped myself teaching one of my  first-grade classes as homework for the TEFL certificate  I'm completing.  I loved the  results and wanted to  share some  stills with all of you so that you can imagine what my classroom is like down here  in Central America.  Here's circle time:

(we're singing 'one  little, two little,three little airplanes')

...then, practicing the body parts with the hokey pokey (you put your HEAD in, you put your HEAD out...):

The next picture cracks me up.  After circle time, we move to the corner and do the date and the weather.  In this picture, I've just asked 'who wants to write...' to see who wants to help me with the day, month, and number of the day on the  chalkboard. The kids LOVE to write on the board, as you can tell by all the hands that shot into the air!

Here's a more 'classic' picture of me at the blackboard:

aaand last but not least, a picture of us playing a movement game to practice the shapes they've been learning (I LOVE this picture!)

....soooo there you have it!  In closing, I'd like to  share with you a status update that I posted to my facebook page recently:

I love my students. I love my classroom. I love that it is recess and there are second graders and fifth graders playing with magnets and tangrams and reading books and eating and singing along to the music I've put on in the background. I love my colored chalk. I love the past tense. I love the present tense. I love the present. I love my life

:)

besitos!
Raquelita 
 

A Post-Birthday Ramble (and Photos!)

Hola a todos! (Hi, everyone!)

This is my first blog entry as a newly-minted 25-year-old.  I spent my birthday on busses, travelling 7 hours to return from San Jose to Boruca. ...not ideal, I admit, but the awesome part was stepping off the bus in Boruca and into the arms of Kelly, with my second family all waiting for me on their porch with cheers and hugs and ice-cream and a surprise birthday dinner planned for me.  They called into the local radio station to do a shout-out to me and we all danced around the kitchen together, and I was truly, exhaustedly happy.  Here's me, about to blow out my birthday candle, surrounded by those I love here in Boruca:

.
..so, yeah, that was pretty awesome. 

Emotionally, I feel like my time in Costa Rica can be seen as an inverted bell curve.  I felt pretty good for the first few months, had a low mid-year (around July) where I was pretty depressed and since then my mood has steadily been improving.  I'm trying not to kick myself for the times I've spent not able to appreciate this gorgeous country, and instead focus on soaking up as much of the experience as I can before I leave in January. ...it's hard sometimes, though, even though I'd prefer to leave on a high note instead of a low note.  Sometimes the little voice in my head keeps whispering 'but look at all the things you COULD HAVE done! look at all the things you could accomplish if you stayed longer! look look look....'

...so, I'm trying to LIVE as much as I can for these last 3.5 months.  To that end, I've started an after-school girls group for the 4th, 5th, and 6th grade ladies, I now make it a point to go out every single day and visit with Ticos (be it my 'second family' or someone else), I'm playing guitar more again, I'm reading more and more, and I'm actively trying to use the more complex Spanish grammatical structures that I still struggle with.

I love it when a parent pulls me aside and says that she's astounded at how much her daughter has learned this year.  I love it when kids hang back after lessons just to spend time in my classroom.  I love when students want to borrow books, want to translate songs, just want to run up and hug me.  I love it when they invite me to their homes and bring me fruit and flowers and decorated cards with I LOVE YOU TEACHER written in their beautiful, scrawly handwriting.  I love it, I love it, I love it, and I am so filled with love that I feel like I will burst:

(those are Ariel, Kianny, and Alina, three of my adorable students.)

... in other news, Costa Rican Independence Day was the 15th of September, and wow, Ticos really know how to be patriotic.  We spent all week in school having assemblies where we learned about the country, sang patriotic songs, and hung up red, white, and blue decorations.  Then, on the 14th (independence eve!), there were country-wide torch runs (carrying the 'light of freedom') and we also held one from Bella Vista (where my friend Drew works) down the mountain to Boruca (it's about a half-hour walk, or a 10 or 15-minute run.)  That was followed by yet another assembly and various dancing presentations for the entire pueblo which lasted almost all afternoon.  Then, at sundown, everyone gathered together in the center of town with faroles (decorated lanterns) for a nighttime parade.  It was awesome! I unfortunately came down with a patriotic cold and missed out on the daytime parade on the 15th, but I still had a great time in the days leading up to it.  If you want to see all of my photos from the Independence celebrations, here's a link to the album ... and here are a few highlights:

a group of my students, carrying the 'torch of freedom' down the mountain:

 ...the torch arriving at the center of town:

 ... some of my 6th graders perform a traditional dance:

 ... two of my 2nd graders pull me in for a picture:

...aaand last but not least, some of the lanterns before the nighttime parade:

ANYway, I've probably blabbed your ears off enough for one evening.  I hope that you've all enjoyed the photos and my update... I very much appreciate any and all comments, emails, and positive vibes you can send towards Costa Rica, as always.  We all benefit from them, down here :)

Besitos!
Raquelita

Seasonal Musings

Dearest blog of mine,

Thus August, my 7th Central American month, draws to an end .

August  (and most of my life down here) can well be summed up in this picture:

(...that's me, 'working' between classes as some of my first graders keep me company.)

August,  which has not traditionally been one of my best months in the Northern Hemisphere, blossomed its way into being one of my absolute favorite months in Costa Rica so far.  This August has been, for me, a month of reading novels, writing lyrics, diving into teaching the past tense to eager students at school, and spending time with my favorite family in Boruca:

(that's Glen, one of my 4th graders, Sira, the school's cook, and Aris, her baby daughter.  I love them dearly.)

...and now this August, one of the best I can ever remember from  my 25 years on this planet, is ending and it is time to face a September that promises  to be far different from any  I have ever known.  

 For there will be no fall to be had for me this year, a fact which has been one of the harder things for me to accept about my decision to come volunteer in Boruca  for such a significant chunk of time.  Autumn has always been my time, when I feel most creative,  most connected to  nature, most cozy, most content, and it has been a challenge for me for the past 7 months--my single biggest challenge-- to essentially live in permanent summer, which had generally been my least favorite season.  Costa Rica is a land without a clear changing of seasons, a country of perpetual greenery, of an endless stream of flowering, growing, sprouting stuff,  a place of dry heat, and wet heat, and sunny heat,  and muddy heat. 
 
 I'll admit, though, my feelings towards the seasons have shifted somewhat thanks to being immersed into a life that revolves so intimately around the sun.  In fact, I am truly proud of the ability I've found in myself not only to adapt to the constant companionship of the sun but also to learn to enjoy it.  One of the things I am most thankful about from this year is my newly-learned love of solar heat and energy, not just for its comfort but also for its skill at drying things, helping clean things, and its calming effect on children,  animals, and my own occasionally chaotic mind.

.... that being said, as I'll be away from my favorite time of the year this fall, I ask a favor of all of you: once autumn does indeed settle into the North American continent, please put on your favorite sweater, curl up in a blanket with a cup of hot tea or chocolate,  and read a book for me while it's chilly outside.  Take a few extra seconds to revel in  the beautiful gray melancholy because I will not be around to love it with you,  and know that I'll be doing the same,  in exchange, by trying extra to enjoy the unrelenting heat down here in Costa Rica.

Gracias, mis amigos.   
Raquelita

 

Water, Water Everywhere... Except Where It's Supposed To Be

Dearest faithful readers of mine!

This entry will address one of the most important things in everyone's lives: WATER.  Ohhh, water, you sweet, wonderful, wet, life-giving thing... I have never known to appreciate you as I have this year!

Let's break down the discussion into three sections, discussing, in rising importance, the existence of and access to:
1) Warm Water,
2) Clean Water,
and
3) ANY Water.

Here goes.

1) We'll start with the least crucial of the three, Warm Water. 

For me and probably all of you reading this, access to heated water is such an accepted part of life that you may have never had to take a cold shower except at, say, church camp.  Or hosing off at the pool, or something like that.  In the United States and most of Europe, most houses simply come with a mechanism for heating water, and that's that.  Whether you live in a balmy climate or a freezing one, you've got acces. 

Here, in rural Costa Rica, the situation is different.  Here, warm water is a luxury.  Warm water is like dessert. Warm water is one of the best things about traveling the 6plus hours to San Jose.  Warm water is most definitely not to be taken for granted, and I'm first to admit that I'd never known how much I would miss it when I got here.

In Boruca, there is no warm water from the taps.  There is no water cooker, mixrowave, or functional stove in the house. 

As there is no warm water, my showers here in Boruca usually last 5 minutes or less.  The water is cold and comes from a tube that opens over your head-- that's it.  I'm lucky because there's high water pressure, which a lot of people don't have. 

But there's lots of good to be had from cold showering:
-Cold showering is good for circulation and your pores. 
-Cold showering conserves energy and water, which is excellent for the environment.
-Cold showering always gives me a sense of accomplishment, especially if it's cold and rainy outside and I have to choose between stepping under that chilly stream or going to bed dirty.

So it's not like I'm suffering, truly, for lack of warm water.  It's just that I have a newfound appreciation for it that I didn't have before, and one that I don't think I'm likely to lose. 

(Note: if you've never tried takinga  cold shower and want to understand, here's what you do: next time you want to shower, turn the water all the way to cold.  Wait a few seconds, then try to force yourself to step under it.  Try it! It's fun, I promise. ;D)

Moving on...

2) Clean water. 

When we arrived in Costa Rica, we were told to check out the water situation at our sites when we moved in to make sure it was safe.  Boruca, being a relatively large indigenous territory (the entire territory has 2,000 people and central Boruca, where I live, has about 700), has safe water.  Or so I thought!

The reality of it is that after a big rainstorm (which is a more and more frequent occurrence as the rainy season bears down upon us), some of the water isn't safe.  Sometiems there are backups in the pipes, or silt that gets in.  Sometimes a tap that was offering potable water one day offers water the next day that will make you sick.

And how do I know this? Becuase I've been there, done that.  I've drunk water of weird colors, water with stuff floating in it, water with dead bugs fished out of it.  I've been so sick at 3am that I wondered if cholera had made a return to Costa Rica (luckily, it hadn't.) Of course, this kind of thing is a rare, rare thing... but now that I've experienced what it's like to drink dirty water, it's made me all the more thankful for the clean stuff. 

So, yeah, count your blessings... and make sure one of them is clean water!

On to the last point...

3) ANY water at all. 

One of the great paradoxes about life here in Boruca has been that sometimes, for hours on end, the water gets turned off.... often while rain is pouring down outside (thus the title of this entry: 'Water, Water Everywhere... Except Where It's Supposed To Be'.)

And when I say 'sometimes', I mean 'every day, for months on end.'  For weeks, we woke up without water, lunched without water, and spent the afternoon wondering when we'd have water.  Each day when I went for a jog I had to wonder if I'd be able to shower when I got back home (and if you don't have water, chances are that NONE of the neighbors have it either, so that's not an option.)  More than once I hiked up the mountain to the home of the only family that had a direct pipe from a water source just to be able to dump a few buckets over my head.

When you're living like that, it changes you.  You horde water.  You fill up bottles and bottles and cups at night so that you can brush your teeth in the morning.  You wash your clothes in a flurry of activity whenever the water comes back on, even if only for a few minutes.  You fill up buckets so that you can fake a shower even if a real one isn't available.  You learn to ignore the dead fruit flies and drink the water anyway because there is no other viable option.  You bond with your family and your neighbors and your kids at school over who has water and who doesn't.  You carry water across the street, you rejoice when you can cook, you watch the hours and wait and wait for that telltale liquid rush in the background of all the sounds of the world that means one thing: life can go on. 

Because that's what it comes down to: Water is life.  El agua es vida.  As long as there is water, even only half of the time, this community can continue to flourish here in the middle of the mountains so far from the rest of the world.     

... this year has changed me in many ways, big and small.  I've eaten rambutans and pejibayes, somehow become a dog person, and learned Costa Rican slang.  But one of the biggest changes of all has been the development of a true, deep thankfulness for the wonder and power that is Water. 

That's all for tonight, folks. 
Abrazos desde Boruca!
Raquelita