Ode to Luz - Rest in Peace

Sunday morning a woman named Luz died in my community.

She was a young, pretty woman - unique looking. Freckles, dark curly hair, smallish wide-set eyes, medium stature. She always had a smile on her face when I saw her. I didn't know her very well, but I know her kids well - three of them - the youngest Manuel in kindergarten, Daniel and Carmen in fourth grade. They all resemble their mother with dark tresses and freckles, they also always have smiles on their faces, much like their mother. A perfect looking family, in fact - the four of them, happy, together. Always walking down the long empty road from town to their house, sometimes hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm, never to forget a big wave and a smile to me if we passed. I smiled back to all with an 'hola,' always.

Recently, about a week ago, I sat in front of Luz and her daughter Carmen on the bus back up to Copey from the bigger nearby town. Carmen was goofing off with me and teasing me, touching my shoulders, head, etc, pretending it wasn't her. I played back, as her mom just laughed along with us….it kind of broke the ice between her mother and I, as I never really had the opportunity to get to know her personally. When the teasing between Carmen and I finally stopped, Luz and her daughter continued. I'm not sure what they were talking about, but from the looks of it, something quite comical. They were giggling and laughing together very audibly and embracing and looking at each other and just outwardly enjoying each other's company…the entire 20 minute bus ride - as if they somehow knew what were to come.

Sunday afternoon was her funeral. I would guess to say nearly the entire community showed up - pews full, extra chairs in the back, standing out the door, even people that didn't personally know her showed up, to be in solidarity with her and her family. The sermon talked about what a strong woman Luz was throughout the entire battle of her cervical cancer. She never once asked Why, or even Why ME? She just went on bravely to the bitter end trying to battle the disease that eventually overtook her. I saw power and strength in Luz's eyes every time I saw her. I knew she was strong without really knowing her. The priest told the community not to grieve over her absence, but be grateful and joyful that there is one more angel in heaven.

Monday morning, the day after her funeral, I walked down to the supermarket and to stop by the community learning center. Her sons Daniel and Manuel were playing with two other boys on the soccer field. I heard Manuel yell my name from afar….he often does that. In fact, he did that when I walked into the silent church for his mother's funeral - it always brings a smile to my face. I smiled and waved back to all the boys. It was so sad for me to see those boys playing soccer on the field - as orphans, no mother, no father, just their remaining grandmother to take care of them. But when I saw them playing that day, seemingly impervious to saying goodbye to their mother the day before, I felt a strong pang for them - day one of their young lives without their mother.

Later that day, I ran into Manuel, the 5-year-old son. After a few exchanges, I said to him, "Manuel, I'm really sorry about your mother." He kind of stopped playing around on the fence and looked up at me with his big hazel eyes with a slightly surprised look, "She's dead," he said. "I know, and I bet you are very sad….." and then I explained I was there for him if he needed anything. In the eyes of a kindergartner, it's hard to fully comprehend what death actually means - I'm sure he wondered why he was leaning over the coffin the day before so curiously looking at his mother in a glass covered box, seeming like she was just peacefully asleep. I told him we could talk or play or do anything he wanted, but that it was okay to be sad.

There's an absence in Copey without Luz. She lived a quiet life, but it had a strong presence on the community, especially with her three lovely kids in the school, all of whom I hold very dearly in my experience here. I'm sad for Luz, and I'm even more sad for her children, left alone to face this world with very few extended family members. All we as a community can continue to do is show those kids we are here for them. And if I know those kids, they are strong in spirit just like their mother, and will be resilient in the face of this tragedy.

Sunday morning a woman named Luz died in my community.

Goodbye to Luz. May you rest in eternal peace.

The 'Toothpaste' of Strangers

Tonight I saw what kindness is.

Tonight, kindness was toothpaste.

It was about 10:13 PM in the capital city of San José, and I was just making use of the high-speed internet at my hotel and g-chatting with my sister, when I told her to hang on so I could "wash up for bed." Much to my dismay, I quickly realized I forgot to pack toothpaste, or anything remotely close to resembling toothpaste that could make-do for the evening.

After beginning to just brush my teeth with the wet brush and any leftover toothpaste that might have still been on there from breakfast, my sister's g-chat messages popped up about how she hates not brushing her teeth and that perhaps I should go see if the front desk has any sort of store or complimentary items for forgetful travelers.

'Yeah right,' I thought. 'Not in Costa Rica.'

But she convinced me to go anyway.

I arrive at the front desk, no one else is around, but the guy behind the desk watching TV.

In Spanish I say....

"Excuse me, you don't happen to have any toiletries to buy if someone forgot something....like toothpaste?"

"Noooo, nooooo ma'am. Sorry."

"Is there somewhere close I could buy some?"

"There is a supermarket about 7 blocks away"

"Ohhhh, that's too bad. I don't really want to leave at this hour."

After an awkward silence, feigning extreme disappointment about not being able to brush my teeth this evening...

"Welllll.......I do have my toothpaste here, and I could give you a little?"

"Really? You could?"

After going in the back room to get his tube of Crest, minty paste out of his overnight bag, there I was at the front desk with my pink toothbrush, eagerly awaiting. Popping back the cap, I squeezed it out and tried to put a dab on the brush without touching my bristles. Then I mumbled in Spanish what I was trying to do.

"Don't worry," he says.

There I am, with a 1/2-inch glob of toothpaste hanging from his tube and me trying to vigilantly cut it off on my brush. Finally, success! I tapped the extra toothpaste back down in the tube, gingerly smiled, vocalized a quick 'gracias!', walked back to my room with toothbrush in hand, and smeared half of it off onto toilet paper for the morning.

My teeth are thanking that kind man at the front desk.

And like Tennessee Williams said in 1951, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers," I, too, tonight, depended on the kindness of strangers. And for me, kindness and toothpaste went hand-in-hand.

Gardens, Grub, and Greenhouses.

Rain, rain go away...Becca´s garden wants to pla - needs some sun. Yes, the rains have hit full force. This means bad things for my garden. It just doesn´t like thaaaat much water! So, my friend´s husband, Danilo helped me - errrrrrrr, rather - constructed a makeshift greenhouse over the two main beds. I have been enjoying lots of bounty from the garden this year such as leeks, tomatoes, lettuce, patty pan squash, carrots, basil, rosemary, garlic, arugula, and rainbow chard. I can´t wait to get some more seeds while I am back in the USA to start a planting season anew in October (less rain)! I just had to do something once all this water started pouring down non-stop nearly all day....including can a ton of basalmic green tomato chutney. Yum.






In other news.....other garden news..... I made a small garden at the school with the preschool class and some parents. The vegetables are growing well and today we harvested the first full batch of what was ready....each kids got to take home a bunch of lettuce and a big bunch of celery....for their first day of school vacation! Glad to know it´s going to good use....

When we first made the gardens for Earth Day:

Today...getting their goods:

Ten and a Half Months and [not] Counting.

Overwhelmed. That's a feeling I have right now. The feeling of being overwhelmed is powerful. It's a feeling, unlike some others, that consumes you, overtakes you, and penetrates every part of you. Even when you're not thinking about it, you still somehow feel it. That's kinda how I feel.

This feeling of being overwhelmed came about this past week - a unique week among my many weeks here where I got to speak English, eat plentiful, sleep in comfy beds, have access to unlimited internet 24 hours a day, have access to a gym and a lap pool (i.e. sportzzz with Lindsay), not be alone for 20 hours a day, and be in the big capital city of San José with movie theaters, restaurants, and culture. Sounds like a retreat to me, where I should be anything but overwhelmed. The name of this week was MST, also known as Mid-Service Training in Peace Corps vernacular. Yes that's right, I'm mid-way through my service. In fact, I'm past mid-way, I'm on the downhill slope. Not that I'm counting, but I have just about 10 1/2 months left - 10 1/2 months that I learned this week are too short, are already jam-packed with activities, and are 10 1/2 more months I should really experience.

Not to bore you with details, so to try and sum it up in a sentence or two, MST served as a midway point to reconnect with other volunteers and Peace Corps staff, talk about current projects, our successes and challenges, hear new Peace Corps administrative policies, re-motivate us for the year to come (specifically with ice-cream and personalized 'thank you' cards), and even a tiny blurb about 'Life After Peace Corps' (never too early to start thinking about that. Well, it worked. I'm certainly re-motivated, though overwhelmed with new ideas, projects, and tools for continuing to serve my community.

But this puts me in a bit of a funny spot. Though I went away from MST with a bag chockfull of ideas and motivation, this feeling of being overwhelmed has put me back to where I was before MST - feeling a bit stagnate, unsure of what to do, where to go next as I creep into my second year...feeling like 10 1/2 months just simply isn't enough for all I have to do. Funny how motivation can be washed to the wayside with just a bit of laziness, feeling overwhelmed or non-stop rainy days.

Well, I have this little MST folder overflowing with papers here with me to serve as a reminder. Maybe when the suns out tomorrow morning, I will put some of this material into play....after all, I better, I've only got 10 1/2 months left!

Hasta luego.

Some point and shoot snapshots from the week:

First night in the hotel....Korean takeout.....in bed!

Of course, there were team-building activities.

Then there was some haircutting.....

Then there was some fun at Café Mundo.

Annnnnnd then there was some weirdness.

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)...

1. I like having you as a pen pal I wish everyone I met was like you
2. 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!
3. 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.
4. 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
5. 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.

Ciao, for now!

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!

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.