Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Ten and a Half Months and [not] Counting.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Ohhhh, Kids.
Kids are amazing. I love their completely uninhibited way of being. I think we have a lot to learn from kids.
During my time here in Peace Corps, I have been exchanging letters with a 5th-grade class in Albany, Oregon as part of the World Wise Schools Program through Peace Corps. We have exchanged many letters about the ins and outs of living in another culture, random facts about them and their lives, facts about me, etc. It has been an awesome exchange and I hope the class has been able to learn something from me and my letters.
The latest batch made me laugh. Here's a sampling. I'm going to let their words speak for themselves (unedited)...
- I like having you as a pen pal I wish everyone I met was like you
- I have kind of climbed a MT it was MT bachelor but I took a ski lift and hiked around it me and my brother rolled half way down it was so much fun but it’s a real lack of energy and oxygen did you have a lack of oxygen? That’s pretty much why I hate mountains!
- I am reading a awesome book. Ninth grade slays! It’s a vampire book, I’m on book 2. I love reading. Do u? I love vampires! My friend thinks I’m a vampire and I’m not.
- I think my friend Madi B. is a vampire but she is denying it. I know this really isn’t a good way to end a letter but that’s ok
- What is your favorite food? Mine I think is fried rice. What is your favorite fish (not cooked)? Mine is a Marlin (a.k.a. swordfish) Sincerely Jeffry, PS. This message will self destructs 5 seconds after you are done reading the letter which was 4 seconds ago.
Monday, April 26, 2010
You May Have Noticed......
..…..….I haven't posted lately.
Well, after my youth group and I being on Buen Día, nothing seemed quite as exciting. And then my mother nagged me to write something, anything!
So here I am. Writing.
I think bullet points will be best for this blog post…for complete utter lack of inspiration:
1. I got a job! Okay, not really because as a Peace Corps volunteer we're not allowed to get jobs. But I did apply for the volunteer position within Peace Corps Costa Rica to be one of three editors/designers for our quarterly magazine, and I got hired. This means I will be serving as co-editor/co-designer/writer for La Cadena, the premier Peace Corps Costa Rica magazine for three issues during my last year in Peace Corps.
2. I won $500 dollars! Okay, not really because we all know that's almost impossible. But I did get a $500 dollar grant from the Peace Corps Costa Rica country fund. We will be using this money this friday at the regional Art for Peace conference where 50 youth from the central valley will be getting together for a day-long conference to do workshops with other youth on themes of peace and anti-violence through art in San José. My fellow Peace Corps volunteer and I have been working day and night to plan it (okay, not night, that's a lie).
3. I saved the world! Okay, not really because that's almost impossible. And why does the world need savin' anyway? But I did make container gardens with the preschoolers on Earth Day! We will continue with larger gardens for Dia del Agrícultor in May where we will be grown' lots of goodies like carrots, lettuce, and cilantro with all the grades and parents!
4. I took lots of pictures! (See below).
'Gracias a Dios' Lindsay returned to Peace Corps after five months of medical leave! Sipping tea in San José!

A really old photo of election time in Costa Rica (he didn't win):
A horse parade in my town (gran tope):
Traditional Costa Rican Dance (José Afredo on the left is in my Art for Peace youth group):

Then I made puppets with children!
A friend from Missoula visited and we went ziplining in Monteverde (Clearly, I can't leave Costa Rica without doing that):
Then I took a picture of a fiddlehead fern in the rainforest:
And then it was Semana Santa (Holy Week) and every house looked like this:
And so I continue... Hasta pronto!
Friday, April 9, 2010
On the Trouble With Tourism in Costa Rica
Before I start this, I want to give you, sort of as a preface, a quote which I borrowed from my good friend Polly's blog, who is a Jesuit Volunteer in Belize for two years:
"I do not forget that my voice is but one voice, my experience a mere drop in the sea, my knowledge no greater than the visual field in a microscope, my mind's eye a mirror that reflects a small corner of the world" -CG Jung
And on we go.
I know what you're thinking - the words 'trouble', 'tourism' and 'costa rica' should not be in the same sentence. It is after all the country's number one industry bringing in nearly a half a million tourists annually, 60% of them being Americans (travel.state.gov). However if you look at the very definition of tourism it is to travel to a destination other than one's home….typically to know another place.
I recently got a taste of this when a friend came to visit from the states. With the public city buses being full, our only option to get to our destination that day, five hours North, was a private tour bus company for 35 dollars (over the public, seven-dollar bus ride). A bit hesitant to do so on a Peace Corps budget, I bit the bullet this one time and we headed north in style.
We boarded the small, air-conditioned bus with about five couples heading to various destinations such as the beaches and rain forests - the popular and typical tourist destinations of Costa Rica. After talking with some of the couples and hearing their plans for the rest of the trip, I realized that although they were traveling the country and seeing a large portion of it, they were in fact, not actually seeing the country at all! Being whisked from one destination to another on an air-conditioned bus, staying at a hotel (many of which are all-inclusive) and only doing the activities targeted at tourists (ziplining, bungee jumping, guided tours, etc), in fact, only gave these people a tiny, tiny, taste of the country. (And please forgive me, for I am not speaking of all tourists, just a large portion of them, and yes, I too am guilty of taking part in these 'tourist-only' activities at one point).
When you're in India, for example, you see it all. You see the face of poverty and injustice everywhere - it's in the chidren's eyes who are living near the train tracks, it's in the ever-apparent slums that surround every city, it's in the water, it's in the beggars' faces and wrinkled, dirt-stained hands and feet, it's in the pollution, it's in the hunger, its in the cripples who approach your car at every traffic light, begging, void of any pride and self-dignity. In India you can't avoid it. India is transparent; it shows you its true face the second you leave the airport. Costa Rica, however is different. Costa Rica is a closed book. It takes longer to get to know, you have to read further into its pages to understand it. Leaving the airport one might feel like they haven't left the States and have landed in Southern California. Sights like Denny's, Holiday Inn, and every fast food chain make one wonder if while they were sleeping, the plane took a wrong turn.
In a way, after having lived in this country for over a year now, it made me slightly angry meeting those tourists on the bus that day. These people go back to the States, looking upon their travels fondly, raving about how beautiful Costa Rica is, how pristine it is, how green it is, how friendly everyone is, how not-poor it is. But they haven't seen what I've seen. THey haven't seen the face of poverty, injustice, inequality, and corruption on which this country rests, nor do they learn it even exists in Costa Rica. How many times have the tourists I've met along the way said to me, "There's Peace Corps in Costa Rica?" Countless. But it is true, Costa Rica is as much as a developing country as the rest of Latin America.
And I get it, not every one is as fortunate as I am to be a Peace Corps Volunteer, to live in this country in a different way, to truly get to know its people, it's culture, its foods, its tendencies, its idiosyncrasies - to bear witness to its authentic side. I feel proud that when my friend came to visit I could give her a true taste of the country - meeting my local pulpería (local store) owner and having lunch with her family, meeting some youth of my town who also happen to be the future of this developing country. Experiencing language barriers, cultural uncertainties, and those uncomfortably, humbling situations that can change one's outlook.
What happened to community-based and responsible tourism where tourists really get to know a culture by spending time with its people, learning from their long-standing traditions of what makes their country unique, being humbled by another's homeland? What happened to sustainable tourism where the influx of the millions of tourists each year see the country in a way that still allows it to maintain and present its culture without being corrupted by all-inclusive resorts, tourist-geared restaurants, activities, etc? What happened to people being mindful that they are entering a place that is someone else's home? What happened to respecting the ways of the culture and be open to 'living in solidarity' with them for their time in country? DId any of this ever even exist? Can tourism be less-invasive and more beneficial to the local community?
Living here has given me a different view on tourism. I used to think it was a way to get to know a country, but I've realized its quite the opposite. I'm not going to lie, sometimes I even like to step-aside from this culture and be a tourist, which is comically contradicting in itself. When I want to "get away" from this culture, I go do something touristy? Wow, that is what I thought the exact opposite definition of tourism is. I'm not quite sure what the point of all this is, nor do I want to present myself in a self-righteous way, but I do know, that after having lived in this long-standing, typically mis-represented country, tourism is a very fragile thing. It can make a country, or it can break it.
Next time you take a journey as a tourist, if you aren't lucky enough to know someone to experience the culture firsthand, please, think locally. Don't be like the stubborn, arrogant tourist who passed through my town, in a Spanish-speaking country who questioned why he should learn a word of spanish, when all the world should speak English. PLEASE travel mindfully and with a conscience. Remember, it is not your home. But it is someone else's.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Okay, So We're Kind of a Big Deal....
Me and the world:Wednesday, March 24, 2010
A Treasured Friendship Based on Four Sentences
But this friend and I, well, we only ever say four things to each other.
1. Hola, comó esta? (Hello, how are you?)
2. Anda de pasear? (Off to have fun?)
3. Si or No (Yes or No)
4. Gracias, hasta luego! (Thanks, see you later!)
I feel so close to him. He drives me up and down the steep mountain road to civilization (the nearest town, Santa Maria); I trust my life in him (one swift move and were rolling off that cliff); he provides sanity for me (how else would I ever be able to access the internet and the outside world?); he picks me up right at my front door (I can't help that my house is directly on the bus route); he doesn't judge me when I leave Copey a lot to go on vacation (which, is often); he supports me when I go chasing after him to not let him get away (then cracks a smile as I get on the bus, winded, and says I should run in marathons); he helps me when I have full loads (bikes from Peace Corps or big care boxes from mom); and he smiles and waves from his regal-like seat if we pass each other in the road.
He is Rodridgo. And he is my bus driver.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Bugs, Rabbits and Chickens
First, bed bugs. Then a bug on the chin. Then a bug in the belly.
Clearly, referring to my bed bugs, my allergic reaction, and my parasites. Yes, it's true I've got lots of bugs in my life.
In other news, today I found out someone in my site has a rabbit farm. A rabbit farm for FOOD. As in rabbit meat. Yikes. Here's a picture. Not that I took, but a picture, nonetheless.
Finally, speaking of meat, I got this crazy idea today while talking with a 9th grader and the woman with which I co-facilitate Art for Peace Workshops with that I should get chickens. Baby chickens. Raise them (free-range of course) and then when they are nice and plump, do the thing, then pluck their feathers and in the words of this woman "eat chicken for a month." Okay, so I know that wasn't so pleasant, but it's how most everyone gets their meat around here. Not being a big meat-eater, this idea of being so connected to my food has always, and especially now, really intrigues me. I'll keep you posted. I may have some baby chicks running around my yard next time we talk.
Goodbye for now, readers. Until next time.



















