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....

Everybody Poops

No matter how hard some people try to deny it, everybody poops. Many of us have the luxury of flushing a toilet afterward, which is really pretty awesome if you think about it. Sometimes, the magical process of flushing is interrupted, and a clog in the toilet occurs. Although this can make a person sad, there is something called a plunger that can make everything all better. The real problem occurs when there is no plunger. This was my situation this morning. Sometimes Abuelo (grandpa) forgets that here in Costa Rica we do not put toilet paper in the toilet. This is interesting to me, because he has never lived anywhere else, but bless his little heart, he does it anyway. Today, I fell victim to following him in the bathroom, which means the toilet clogged after I was finished.

Given that we do not have a plunger, I walked 10 minutes to my aunt's house to borrow hers. No problem, right? Wrong. First of all, I needed to be at the school teaching Kindergarten in 20 minutes, and still hadn't showered after working out. Second of all, by the time I got the plunger it was covered in poop from the last time my aunt's family had used it. Third, when I finally got to my house to use it, it was of course the worst plunger ever made. It was stiff, and flipped inside out with every plunge, splattering EVERYTHING everywhere. As if turning inside out didn't spatter enough nasty-ness everywhere, it was even worse trying to get the thing right side out again. I finally got it to work, and went on with my day.

What's my point? Not surprisingly, I don't really have one. No, wait, I got it - this is just one of millions of examples of how everything takes sooooo much longer here, which is something I'm trying to get used to. Although I think it's lovely that people are much more "tranquilo" here, it does not always agree with my super-Type-A personality...but I'm trying to become more Type-T (Tico).

I am, however, going to buy a plunger for my family this afternoon. There are some things that I don't really want to develop more patience for, and fixing a toilet clog is one of those things.

Feliz Dia, Papacitos!

June 21, 2009

¡Buenas! Feliz Día del Padre (Happy Father’s Day) everyone!

Although Mother’s Day is not celebrated until August here, Father’s Day this year was celebrated on the same day as in the States. We had a whole mess of people over today to celebrate, which was a lot of fun (see photo for the mess of people). My host Dad (the short, happy gentleman who is farthest to the right in the photo) could not be more adorable, and I absolutely love our relationship. Today I made him and my host brother-in-law (and the rest of the family) chocolate and banana pancakes, which they obviously loved. None of them had ever had pancakes or maple syrup before, so they it was kind of a big deal. The other day I introduced them to peanut butter, which might have been the most significant cultural information that I have shared with anyone at this point. I plan to spread my love for peanut butter all over this country. Here you can find small jars of it in big supermarkets, but hardly anyone actually buys it because it just isn’t part of the culture (and it’s expensive). I’m going to start making it my just putting a bunch of peanuts in the blender. I’ve become partial to peanut butter and guayanaba jelly sandwiches here. Guayanaba is a super common fruit here, and if you can find guayanaba jelly in the States then I highly recommend it. Guayanaba jelly is to Ticos what strawberry jam is to people in the States…everyone has it. There are so many fruits and vegetables here that are not available in the States, and I know them well now because, unlike in San Jose, here in Buenos Aires I get to eat food with… (wait for it)…nutrients!!! I actually get a little sad when other people invite me to eat meals with them, because it is never as good as the stuff I get at home. Come visit me and try it for yourself, contact your travel agent today.

So, I haven’t written in a while because I’ve been very busy making the world a better place. Actually, I’ve been busy trying not to screw up while taking over projects while the volunteer who I’m replacing is out of town. This week, I taught English classes by myself for the first time, which was scary. People go to college for 4 years or more in order to learn how to teach English as a second language, and that is the way it should be. My second class was certainly better than the first (which was just short of disastrous), so I’m hoping they will just keep getting better. I also teach English to 3 kindergarten classes, which is the cutest thing ever. First of all, they are in kindergarten, which automatically makes them adorable. Second, as if the little blue dresses that all the girls wear weren’t precious enough, the little boys wear smocks - that’s right - SMOCKS!!! If you are not familiar with the “smock,” it is like a normal boy’s collared shirt, but the bottom part has a little skirt on it, and they wear them with little blue shorts. I’ve got to take a picture of them – you will die of adorableness poisoning for sure.

I’ll never get through this post if I don’t just sum up some of the other stuff that went on this past week:

- I led a community meeting with residents of the ghetto that is close to where I live, which went extremely well. Last week I created a community survey in order to collect baseline data regarding their living situations, but because a large number of the residents cannot read I ended up spending hours individually interviewing people, which was better because I learned a lot more about each family. Every now and then I run into someone from the community and they tell me that someone else in their family wants to meet me, so I often have lengthy, impromptu visits to the community as well. I have so much respect for the people who are living in the conditions over there…I honestly don’t know if I would be strong enough to do it and still remain sane.

- My exercise classes are going really well, although I’m still spending hours preparing for them in order to get a handle on the exercise vocabulary, which is not exactly something I’ve had the opportunity to study before. I’ve decided that making people sweat, walk funny, and feel really good about themselves at the same time is one of my favorite things in the world.

- Still keeping up my morning walks with a couple of women who are trying to get started in the world of exercise. The one who has been walking with me since I arrived said she’s lost 15 kilos and can wear all kinds of old clothes that she hasn’t worn in years. I am very proud of her.

Okay, talking about work is boring, here are some random thoughts:

- I am trying to master salsa, swing, bachata, meregue, and cumbia…I received a crash course from two of my coworkers at the high school the other day…hoping to be a pro by 2011.

- My coworker at the high school invited me to her neice’s quincernera (15^th bday party), which was a lot of fun, and in true Tico fashion I was welcomed into their family with open arms. I was invited to spend a weekend with about 5 different families, and my coworkers sister even invited me to her wedding next week. People are SOOOO nice here!

- The water company here keeps shutting off the water because it’s the rainy season so it’s more vulnerable to contamination. I really like water a lot, not just to drink but also to cook, bathe, flush the toilet, wash my hands after using the toilet…the list goes on. As you can probably imagine, I get pretty sad when it goes away.

- I am in heaven with my new host family. Yesterday I spent the day about an hour away in Perez Zeledon, and when I got home at night my 21 and 23 year old host sisters practically tackled me as they ran over to greet me and tell me how much everyone missed me (I was gone from 11am until about 9pm). I also got eaten alive my mosquitos and these other little “bichos” (bugs) that are balck and really small but make big red bites that are twice their own size. I hate them…hate them. My legs are all swollen and look diseased and it kind of hurts to walk. Oh, my trip to Perez was super fun though. I went to my coworker’s niece’s quinciñera (15^th bday party).

- Today marks the third time that my host family has forced me to sing karaoke to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.” They don’t actually force me, but these people are so sweet that it is basically impossible to say no to them. Also, they do not play when it comes to karaoke…it is unfortunately something about which they are genuinely (and painfully) passionate.

- Next time you are eating salted peanuts, sprinkle some lime over top, eat them, and then send me a pretty thank you card. You’re welcome.

- Ticos use the word “culantro,” pronounced “koo-lan-trow” instead of cilantro. It’s funny because it sounds a lot like the bad word for butt, “culo.”

- Tuanis (pronounced too-AH-neese) is a word to describe something as being really good, but in a cool way. It’s like “awesome,” but with actual street cred. Apparently, the word evolved from English-speaking people on the Cariibean side of the country saying “too nice.” I try to use it as frequently as possible.

That’s a little taste of just some of the things going on in my head right now…I’d love to hear from everyone so keep me updated with emails. I’m hoping to have a cell phone in the next week, so email me if you want my number, and if I actually know who you are I’ll send it to you.

Tuanis.

I Love Running Water

June 5, 2009

Running water, eating when we’re hungry, toilet paper, soap, education, and roofs made of solid material…no matter how hard I try to appreciate everything that I have in my life, these resources are so readily available to me that it is nearly impossible not to take them for granted at times. Today I visited a community that is a 5 minute walk from my house, where the people would do anything do have access to some of these things that I am able to obtain so easily. Lomas del Sol is a precario (ghetto) that sits on land owned and abandoned by the government, where about 50 families with no other options used whatever materials they could find in order to construct shelter for themselves. About 4 years ago, the government began a housing project there, but after constructing just 6 houses the municipality declared the land uninhabitable, and the project was terminated. The six constructed houses were quickly occupied, in spite of there being no running water, and other families with no place to live used scraps donated by the pineapple packing company PINDECO to construct shantytown houses on the remainder of the vacant lot. The people who currently inhabit the 66 houses carry water to their houses in buckets, after filling them in one of the just 2 tubes that are available to them.

Today I had the privilege of meeting five community members of Lomas, and the experience definitely influenced my priorities and perspective with respect to my service. I spent nearly four hours talking with them about their emotional and economic statuses, families, education, religion, health, exercise, nutrition, and the politics surrounding their current living situation. In spite of the fact that Peace Corps has been in Costa Rica for over 45 years, none of them had ever heard of it. Buenos Aires as a Peace Corps site is quite a large area for one volunteer to cover, and unfortunately communities like Lomas can easily get lost in the bigger picture. I could easily spend my 2 years working solely with the people of Lomas, however I will need to find a way to incorporate them in my work with the schools, health clinics, child protective services, and other social and governmental institutions here. They are very interested in having more programs for their children and youth, many of whom are not currently attending school. Education is “free” here, but students still need money for materials, copies (even of their own exams), etc., which is only one reason why keeping kids in school presents a challenge to families of very limited economic means. Even children who are in school have very limited access to extra-curricular activities, so access for those not in school is completely nonexistent. As a result, the community members with whom I met in Lomas were very eager to discuss potential youth projects for their community. We talked about mentorship programs, English classes, recreational opportunities, and leadership groups as possibilities for the young people in the community. In addition, it came up that I’ve been teaching an exercise class in the community center, and the women in the group seemed to love that idea as well. They were also eager to get more parenting resources and support, so I think the counselor at the elementary school and I are going to do some workshops with the parents of Lomas.

After meeting for a couple of hours they invited me to have cafecito, which I accepted, as always. I never drank coffee before coming here, but it would be nearly impossible to spend 2 years here and not turn into a complete addict. Peace Corps volunteers in Costa Rica don’t actually need to be provided with meals by their families during the day, because it would be completely doable to survive (albeit unhealthily) off of cafecito alone. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like coffee and cookies and white bread and butter…you take the time to have cafecito anyway, because it is absolutely the most valuable time one can spend with members of the community. I feel like my heart is going to tear through my chest it beats so fast when I drink the stuff, but the crazy symptoms and slow damage to my personal health are without a doubt worth the emotional gains and relationships formed by consuming coffee and white, processed flour and sugar.
Oooh, ima need to write about food more in the next post, because I am eating SOOOOO much better in my new home with my new host mother, who spoils me completely rotten. It is very likely that I am eating more vegetables that you, which makes me happy.

I´m Official

June 2, 2009

I just finished my first full day as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. I feel tired and sweaty and itchy, and I smell like feet. Pura vida.

A lot has happened since my last post, so I’ll try to recap. On May 29th, all 50 members of Tico 19 were sworn in as volunteers at the house of the U.S. Ambassador. It was a lovely ceremony, with the entire PC Costa Rica staff and almost all of our host families in attendance. Saying goodbye to several staff members and fellow trainees felt very strange, and I was especially sad to part with one of my language teachers, to whom I have become very close. I seriously owe our staff more than half the brain cells in my body right now. In spite of a limited time frame and even more limited budget, they did an incredible job preparing us for service.

Besides becoming a Peace Corps volunteer, I also turned a half century old this week. My training host family threw me a big surprise party and invited all my friends from training to our house. We all crowded into my little tiny house, reflecting on our training experience, talking about our future sites, eating arroz con pollo (rice with chicken), and listening to my friend Jerred sing and play guitar (which always makes me cry).

I spent my last day in San Jose baking whole wheat banana bread and whole butter and sugar apple pie with my dear friend Chamisa and her lovely host family, and then went home to spend my last night with my family. While my host Dad and I watched a movie, I could tell that my host mom was putting her heart and soul into something big in the kitchen. We usually eat in their big bed, but this time she asked us to turn off the movie and come out to eat in the dining room, where she had prepared a beautiful candlelit dinner. I was a little sad that we weren’t eating our last dinner in their bed, but it was really quite lovely, and my host mom was very pleased with herself, which is what made me happiest of all.

I am now in Buenos Aires, this time to stay. Although I could not have felt more ready to move here and begin working, everything is quite overwhelming right now. There is an incredible amount of work do to, so figuring out where to begin is going to be an enormous challenge. Another challenge will be prioritizing projects, because my community is quite large. A major strength of Buenos Aires is the energy and motivation possessed by its people. Many people have good ideas about changes they would like to see, and seem willing to participate in and offer support to the community development process.

To give you all an idea of how easy it is to find potential projects, after just one day I was asked to teach exercises classes, coach soccer, help with parenting workshops, teach two adult English classes, teach English to kindergartners, help run a mentorship program in the high school, start a leadership group for young women, help construct a public playground, organize a swim camp…the list goes on.

Our first 3 months are supposed to be spent getting to know the people and collecting data that allows us to write a diagnostic analysis of the community. The diagnostic is to be used to prioritize projects and form an initial work plan. As one can imagine, it needs to include a ri-hog-ulous amount of information (e.g. history, demographics, health, education, social issues, social institutions, recreation, and gender roles). Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I am a big nerd, so I’m looking forward to the process of data collection and analysis, and also a little nervous about getting everything done while simultaneously working on projects.

Did I mention that it is hot here? Cuz it is. I might melt into thin air before I have the chance to return home. The best part about living in a place this hot is that ice cream is always in season, and there is absolutely no guilt linked to eating it because every time it feels like the best idea you ever had.