No, gracias.

July 21, 2009

“Viejo verde,” which literally means “green, elderly man,” is the name Ticos have bestowed upon older men who spend their days in heavy pursuit of younger women’s affections. Besides the occasional brief encounter, I haven’t really been bothered by these tortured souls…until this week, that is. I’m not sure why (it may be the new deodorant I just bought, which smells fabulous), but I managed to have my fair share of viejo verde encounters in just these past three days. The first is an employee in one of the institutions for which I work, which is always fun. Every time I see him, he tries to make plans for the two of us to go see some waterfalls that are a couple hours away from our town. Anytime I mention anyone else who might like to go too, he assures me that they have already seen them. So far, my indirect attempts to tell him “no, gracias” have been insufficient in ending the repetitive proposals. Yesterday he decided to try and work “I live alone, I have no woman” into each one of his terribly uninteresting stories, and proceeded to ask me about my marital status. I told him all about my “very serious boyfriend” in the States (we’ll call him, Tommy), and when he asked how long Tommy would wait for me I very confidently responded, “forever.” Tommy and I are very happy together.

My other viejo verde is even worse. Unfortunately, when I first him I was not thinking clearly, and told him I did not have a boyfriend (although I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have mattered to him). I was minding my own business, walking home from the center of town, when he spotted me. He asked for a minute of my time, which happens constantly here, and it wasn’t until 5 minutes into the conversation that I realized he was tryna be someone’s sugar daddy. After several unsuccessful attempts to find out exactly where I live, what my phone number is, and when we could see each other again (because apparently this first “date” of ours went so well), he settled on giving me his phone number (which I keep with me always…), and finally allowed me to escape his oppressive charms. Not only did he have no “verguenza” or shame in asking me ALL the personal questions, he saw no problem in telling me that he has always wanted to marry a “White (not Black)” girl from the States. He would have been in luck if I had always dreamt of marrying an old, unfaithful, racist turd…but that just isn’t my type. I had the pleasure of seeing him again today, but I was mentally prepared for his aggressiveness, and was able to get myself out of the situation relatively quickly.

Overall, the men here have been very respectful towards me, and I feel extremely safe in my community. There just always seems to be a few bad apples in every bunch (mmm…apples). Speaking of apples, the other day I bought the best ones I’ve had in Costa Rica, which nearly produced tears of joy. Not only that, but I also bought natural peanut butter (in the town an hour away), so you can imagine my excitement when I was able to eat the natural peanut butter with my crispy, perfect apples. It was heaven. Yes, mom, I already finished the jar of PB that you sent me, but it brought many people (and by that I mean me and my host mom…no one else likes it) lots of happiness.

Everything here is good, the kids just had a bonus, third week of winter break due to sudden, increased outbreaks of swine flu in children here. I am looking forward to school getting back in session, not only because the kids here need all the time they can get in school (they attend classes for about half the time of students in the States), but also because it is a lot easier to get work done on projects when people are in their normal routine.

I have official news of my first visitor from home. My brother, who apparently loves me more than any of the rest of you, is coming in just a couple of weeks! I am stoked to see him, and cannot wait for everyone in my community to meet the nicest boy in the entire world!

Machismo and Generosity

July 10, 2009

This week I started about five different blog posts, and then erased them after feeling unable to articulate the meaningfulness of the experiences I was attempting to share. Here I’d like to share two characteristics of Tico culture with which I am confronted every day – one negative (Tico machismo) and the other negative (Tico generosity).

- When I was in training, I only had minor exposure to the “machista” or patriarchic culture that is so prevalent in Latin America (Costa Rica being no exception). Since arriving to my site, machismo punches me in the face on a regular basis, and it often takes all my energy to contain my frustration. For example, my host sister really wants to come to my exercise classes, but can’t because her husband gets home from work during class….I you are like me you might be asking, “Who the @!#$ cares?” If you are my host sister, however, you care because your husband’s dinner needs to be hot and ready the moment he gets home. When my host sister told me this was why she couldn’t come to class, all I could do was stare at her. The notion that, twice a week, this 30-year-old man could not find some other solution to eating dinner (e.g. wait an extra hour, make it himself, heat up something that she already made) left me dumbfounded. What’s even more is that I was with my host mother and other host sister, and both of them (of course) shared the “poor Warner needs his dinner so obviously Jamie can’t go” point of view. Same thing happens in the morning – she can’t walk with me and my other friend because pobrecito Warner needs to have his freakin’ breakfast. Lawd help him if anything (heaven forbid) were to happen to my host sister. Sometimes I wonder if the men here even manage to wipe themselves in the bathroom. One more quick example of my host brother’s machista ways: Just now, my abuelo was calling for my host mom (his daughter). I was in my room, and heard him, but Warner was literally right next to him, laying on the couch. Warner managed to let out a pathetic call to my host mom to let her know, but when that didn’t work he just gave up and let my abuelo continue to call her in his weak, elderly voice. Hardly able to believe what I was hearing, I emerged from my room, confirmed that this was actually happening, and asked abuelo what he needed. Unbelievable. Side note: My host Dad is super helpful around the house, which I love love love. He is so incredibly generous and treats my host mom with all the love and respect in the world. He is definitely the exception, not the rule.

- The other day, I was about to walk home from a nearby shantytown when a ferocious lightning storm emerged out of nowhere. I ducked into the house of a woman I know, seeing as bolts literally seemed to be hitting the tops of the tin roofs that surrounded me. My friend, Marta, doesn’t have enough money to pay someone to make another hole behind her house to use as a bathroom, but she still managed to bring me a bowl full of shopped up papaya in a matter of 5 minutes. I was thankful for the lightening storm, because I allowed me a full hour of nonstop conversation with her and family that would not have happened otherwise. In addition to the papaya, my hands were full with a loaf of homemade bread and ice cream from 2 others families before I made it out of the shantytown community. Although I still feel guilty when people who are struggling to survive give me (the gringa who has everything she could ever ask for) presents, I am beginning to accept the fact that pleasing other people genuinely pleases them – the fact that they are able to offer something to others breeds a sense of pride, and assurance that they are going to be alright. I am confronted by Tico generosity on multiple occasions every day, and yet it still never ceases to amaze me.

The generosity displayed by community members in the shantytown, and the machismo so beautifully demonstrated by my brother-in-law are merely two examples out of the many that catch my attention on literally a daily basis.

Today involved hiking to the top of a mountain, serious jump-roping, teaching an exercise class, and eating lots of arroz con leche with coconut cookies. Needless to say, it is time to go to sleep. Next week I’m helping Jenna run a swim camp in our town, so that should be fun…or really painful and stressfull…but interesting none the less. I’ll letcha know all about it. Send me emails, it is really depressing if I go a week without internet and then when I finally get access my only emails are from Peace Corps, Bank of America, and my mom. Thank you.

Showing off my blogging skillz...this is a video

This is pretty much how my nephew and I spend our free time...I try to do work, and then he comes and distracts me and acts too cute for me to turn him away. Here he is ¨reading¨Beauty and the Beast, and talking about how the Beast wants to eat children who don´t behave themselves....