Me oh my, where have I been?!?!?!

........the States!

That's where. And it was absolutely fantastic. That's why you may (or may not) have noticed my month-plus absence on this ol' blog.

But I'm back in Costa Rica and on Costa Ri(bec)ca too. And mainly because my retired father diligently and lovingly checks this blog every day, and I have failed to pull through for the last nearly forty days. Sorry Pops. (But I waaaaasssss with you the last 20 or so).

But unfortunately, even in this post, I am only going to post some photos from my trip home....photos Pops has already seen. Sorry again, Pops.

First, being an epicurean, my main favorite reason of going home to the states is the variety of foods I have access to in America (and in this wonderful time of year!) and more importantly, in my parent's kitchen, and spice shelf.

Of course, that first reason is only second to that of seeing friends and my somewhat odd family (my brother's wedding was the main reason for going back to the US, among other activities):

family.

family.

Also, in America, I got to drive my old Suby which still oh-so-patiently awaits my return in my parents' driveway. Also, I got to lie in perfectly manicured, green grass, i.e. what my father proudly calls his 'carpet.' Barefoot.

friends.

Then I went hiking with friends. Yay, hiking. And in Montana too. I went back to Montana...my old stompin' grounds. And as I biked around Missoula on an old red cruiser with chipped paint with the wind in my hair under a borrowed black helmet with a skull on it, and passed by town characters I used to know, it was if time had stopped while I was away. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Everything felt the same. Minus a few important people who were no longer there. None the less, I had a blast.

And in Montana, we went to a rodeo! Yeeee hawww. I love rodeos. I love rodeos eeeeeveeen more in Montana.

Aahhhhhh yes, that was my time in America. It was three weeks of non-stop, truly American activity. That's where I've been. Now I am back in my site to crank out these last 7 months of my Peace Corps experience. America left me rejuvenated, motivated, and at peace with where I am right now in life. Funny how certain things can give you perspective.

Until next time, readers.

Walkin' On....A Religious Pilgrimage, of Sorts

Last year on this date, something very important in Costa Rica was cancelled due to the H1N1 virus - the Romería. The Romería is a religious pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Los Angeles in Cartago to celebrate the following, that was plagiarized from another blog, "On August 2, 1635, the small statue of the virgin was found at the site of the basillica by a native woman. As the story goes, when this woman tried to take the statuette with her, it miraculously reappeared back where she'd found it. Twice. Finally, she and the other townspeople gave up and built a shrine there where La Negrita had originally been found. In 1824, the statuette was declared Costa Rica's Patron Saint and thus began the annual pilgrimage where people from all corners of the country and beyond come to say their most serious prayers on bent knees." Millions of people walk the route to Cartago from all over Costa Rica and even other Central American countries to arrive for the celebration on August 2nd.

So, being that this will be my last August 2nd in Costa Rica, I set out with two friends on an extremely last minute, spontaneous trip to attempt the walk from a location near my site, but still 40 kilometers away from Cartago. Two of us rushed away from my house Sunday afternoon after running a girls' outdoor leadership camp all weekend (post on that to come soon) to meet another volunteer to begin the walk around 3 pm….a bit late for a full 40 kilometer walk, but we figured we'd walk what we could before it got dark (even though many people walk through the night, we chose not to be walking after dark).

Yeah, that's right, that's Laura Chinchilla, Costa Rica's current and first female president. I'm pretty sure she's waving at me. ;)

We walked. And we walked. Along the highway, cars zooming past us in both directions of the Inter-American Highway, passing groups of other pilgrims along the way. Three hours passed and the sun was completely gone, the rain had begun and it was very dark. So, we ended our walking part of the pilgrimage right there about 15 kilometers short and decided to grab a bus the rest of the way. Arriving in Cartago around 7 pm, the city was hustling and bustling with people from all over Costa Rica, there to get a blessing from Our Lady. We quickly grabbed another bus to a quiet little city tucked in a beautiful valley surrounded by coffee plantations just outside of Cartago where we stayed for the night.

The following morning we enjoyed a European breakfast at a german-run lodge - coffee, tea, croissants, baguettes, fruit, granola, yogurt. Delicious. Simple.

Then we were on our way to the basilica back in Cartago. We arrived just at the end of mass, complete with big screens, crowd control, vendors offering to take your picture, aaaaaaaaand a Laura Chinchilla sighting, up close and personal - Costa Rica's current president and first female president. A quick stop on the basilica to see Our Lady of Los Angeles, and we were back in our way to explore the rest of festivities.

An afternoon latte and pastry finished things off before we got our buses back home.

Arriving home tired, and feeling juuuuuust a bit more spiritual, I was ready for another day in my little ol' life here in this little ol' village.

Sushi in a World of Comida Típica?

The other night, elbow-deep in sushi making, I said to my fellow volunteer who was staying the night at my place, "I can't believe we're making sushi in my house in Costa Rica." She laughed.

It all started 24 hours earlier when a site visit from my Peace Corps program manager alerted me to some Asian markets in San José. Previously unbeknownst to me, there exists a small "Chinatown" in the busy streets of our capital city. After some fiascos and failed attempts to find the area (getting lost a few times, asking numerous people, paying $4 to have a cab driver mistakingly take me to an Asian non-food market), I finally stumbled upon a few Asian markets...an area I walked passed and drove through in the cab mere minutes earlier. Boldly venturing into any store with Mandarin characters on the signs, behind each storefront I found what was a hidden surprise of one feeling like they had magically been transported to the heart of China. I was in love. I was suddenly sent back to my time in Japan or India where an innocent exploration of the markets turned into a guilty pleasure of another world. I suddenly became a kid in a candy store, picking up every item out of curiosity - touching it, feeling it, imagining eating it or even inventing ways of how to prepare it.

One hour later, and $26.00 later (eeeks! on a Peace Corps budget), I filled my canvas bag with the following, some things familiar, some new (see photo). I was ecstatic. Soon I would be filling my mouth with homemade sushi, dim sum, spicy ginger candies, tapioca pudding, curries made with coconut milk, tofu, and other recommended Chinese sweets.

So that night, I arrived home, back in my community with a cupboard full of ethnic ingredients. Heaven. On Earth. For me.

My fellow volunteer and I proceeded to "cook" up vegetarian sushi rolls and spring rolls made with purple cabbage, rice noodles, grilled tofu, and mangos with a peanut, garlic, and chili dipping sauce.

Spring roll assembly!

OOooooohhh my gosh, so excited to eat this:

Now that's a sushi roll:

A little red wine to top it all off, and some ginger candies and other Chinese sweets (some not so good) for dessert? We were more than satisfied, and suddenly incredibly sleepy.

It was one of those experiences that I sort of didn't believe was happening in Costa Rica. If I learned anything from this adventure, it's that EVERY place on earth (even when it seems you are only surrounded by comida típica) has it's secret hidden gems with which you can create beautiful pieces of jewelry.

Thanks again to my wonderful program manager, Natalia, for giving me the heads up! I've got many asian meals to look forward too.

Ode to Skillet Bread - For Lindsay K.

The things we do in Peace Corps without ovens.....

The New Learning Center!

Wanted to quickly post a few images from a new Community Learning Center here in Copey that I am helping my community create....a project I just sort of 'fell' into. It is an environmentally and culturally focused learning center whose foundation is the learning of English as a Second Language. I am not involved in the teaching part of things (just some art classes here and there), but rather the organizational part...working with the Board to help them realize their goal! We have officially opened and have begun classes and workshops! Stay tuned for more info including the official website!

Enjoying the new English books:

Practicing spelling our names to each other:

Working hard with a Canadian volunteer:

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.