Saturday, April 11, 2009

Semana Santa



I love my long walks and hikes throughout the mountainous wilderness of Jerico, Costa Rica during training. And during Semana Santa the Peace Corps gave us Thursday and Friday off in addition to the weekend for descansado (rest), or in my case, finally time for long hikes and runs. Well Thursday I began with this in mind. I took a nice long run around town, pushing myself up a few hills and finishing with a mild jog around the soccer field a few times. Then at about mid-morning my Tica twin sisters and Tico cousin Roberto said they were going on a hike to the “arbol con waco” or “tree with hole.” I had heard much about this local gem from my family and others, so of course I was on board. It was a pretty rigorous uphill hike over one of the mountains. Some of it was on a windy dirt road and when it got too steep, there were paved sections. Then we broke off of the road and into a thick forested area and onto a narrow path that shot steeply downhill on the other side of the mountain.

It was on this steep, narrow and rocky path that I rolled my ankle terribly. The spot was only a few meters from the magnificent tree and I could hear the laughter and mingling of the many visitors. As my left ankle rolled out onto the outer side of my foot in a small crevice of the path, I nearly fell to my knees in agony. I was able to remain upright, balancing on my right side and leaning heavily onto a tree, but I was hit with a strange and foreign sensation. It is best described as a very strong head rush. My vision clouded and darkened, and it sounded as if I were in a wind tunnel. The sounds of voices and wind and birds became faint and distant. I felt dizzy. One of the twins later told me my lips went totally white and I was wavering in balance. I think this must be what it feels like right before you pass out. Luckily, I didn't experience the full effect.

Strangely, I didn't have the urge to cry out or release tears of pain, it was simply nauseating. After regaining composure I was able to limp my way to the grand gift of nature. It was the most enormous tree I have ever seen, with giant protruding roots making up its trunk. People were climbing through its interior as the roots left a “hole” at its base. Others climbed high into the branches of the magnificent work. I obviously did not partake in this climbing expedition, but I sat, resting my incredibly swollen ankle and gazed up into its high reaches. Now was the going back part. Roberto fashioned me a handy walking stick and we began the trek back to Jerico and the house. Although going down was much easier on the lungs, it was actually more difficult on the ankle and I proceeded to tread very slowly, often shuffling sideways like you would do on skis if you were trying to make sure you didn't slide straight down the mountain. The others were very patient with me. I think they were nervous after seeing me turn ghostly white and nearly pass out. I felt so foolish and stupid. Here I was, in good shape, wearing my hiking boots, and I roll my dumb ankle. The others were in converse sneakers with no tread on the bottoms and they gallivanted easily down to the tree. I suppose you could say they know the terrain better, but I honestly think it was just a freak accident. And sometimes that just happens. It is a super bummer though, as it kicked off my four days of freedom as a gimp. Wonderful. So much for soccer and running this week.

We attended mass and other church festivities from Thursday through Sunday in celebration of Semana Santa, Good Friday and Easter (or here, “Resurrecion”). I also went to mass last Sunday, Palm Sunday and was fascinated by the ritual of it. The mass began outdoors and we were all given palms. We then processed into the church following the children as they gave a sort of skit. It was interesting to note the similarities and differences from my experiences of Palm Sunday in the States. I folded my palm into a cross as my friends and I used to do at St. Francis Cabrini, and everyone was fascinated by the idea. The twins wanted me to teach them how to do it. Semana Santa also brings out some unique types of food. I have been served a variety of meals this week that include a type of fruit called chiverre. It is sweet and has a strange, stringy texture, but when broiled (and my Tica mother broiled it for 24 hours), it becomes soft and delicious, especially when baked inside a pastry. The other favorite of mine that has been dished out this week is arroz con leche. It is amazing and has the texture of oatmeal. It is made with several types of milk and then boiled on the stove. It has totally become my comfort food. My Tica mother thinks it's strange I want it for breakfast... it is mainly just a dessert here.

Last weekend was a blast. About 15 of the RCDers took a trip to Jaco Beach, about three hours west of Jerico. On a map it looks like it should take about 40 minutes to get there, but you have to go through the mountains on the dilapidated narrow roads of Costa Rica. So we left at 5:30am to travel by bus to the popular and touristy Playa Jaco. I visited this beach in the summer of 2006 when I was staying in Flamingo, so it was very familiar. We spent the entire day battling some super strong waves, tanning in the soft sand, and playing beach soccer with my newly purchased soccer ball. (I figured this would be a good investment for my stay in Costa Rica). Check out my pics of the day on Facebook:

Peace Corps Orientation Retreat:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2082426&id=11600518&l=38ca3ad338

PC Training thus far in Jerico, CR:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2083400&id=11600518&l=7763d9f759

RCD Jaco Beach Trip:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2083827&id=11600518&l=a181a13954

PCV Visit: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2083481&id=11600518&l=0778e909fd

We are steadily approaching the midway point of training. Only 48 more days before swearing in as a true Peace Corps volunteer!

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Mas o Menos Tico


I have recently returned from the PC Site visit where I “shadowed” the lovely Lindsay Webb. She's from Phoenix, Arizona and has been here two years. She'll be heading back home this month after the completion of her service. The site visit rocked. It was in Guanacaste near the beach and we were able to visit Playa Samura one day. I basically stayed with Lindsay for few days to observe her work and ask questions. I saw monkeys, helped her paint a world map on the elementary school and picked her brain for all the juicy Peace Corps details. Pictures of the trip should be on Facebook soon.

Lindsay taught English, was active in the community association, taught aerobics to a womens group, and much more. It was wonderful to see all the opportunities and possibilities. And let me tell you, this site was rural. Twenty minute drive in either direction along dusty, rocky mountain roads to the nearest town where there is Internet and phone. It was an extremely humid version of driving in the old blazer along the back 40 of Grammie and Grandpa's ranch. The other difference is that there is a beach about 30 minutes away. But, you have to cross a river to get to the beach, and that is really only possible in the dry season (which is now). Lindsay had a scare one time when she was trying to cross the river when it was too high. She thought she was going to be swept away because the current suddenly picked up, but luckily a local helped pull her across. The site is called San Pedro de Nandayure, near Carmona in Guanacaste. It is incredibly small- only a few hundred people. And a stark contrast of poverty near to summer beach houses of wealthy Westerners hangs in the humid air. The community loves Lindsay and I was awed by the experience in a very positive way.

The other trainees brought back similar stories of awesome visits in all kinds of places throughout rural Costa Rica. We compared and contrasted the experiences, projects, and general outcome of the trip. I for one have been revitalized to make it through the rest of training.

Next week is Semana Santa (Holy Week) in which we will be given a four day weekend (hallelujah... literally). I plan to partake in all the town's festivities which include a hike, a party (with a bunch of food according to my host sisters), a candlelight vigil, and some other interesting cultural things.

Soon after is the famous “VAC Dinner” (Volunteer Action Committee) on April 18th in San Jose at which all the Costa Rica PC volunteers come together to mingle and meet. It is supposed to be mountains of fun and we will all stay in a hotel in San Jose.

After that we will be officially half way through training. Yahoo.

In other amazing news, I somehow got myself onto a womens soccer team here in Jerico. (Found out there are no co-ed teams here... it's just not really culturally acceptable). I simply met a girl who was visiting the house one day (everyone is friends or family with everyone else here) and when she found out I played, she asked me to play that night with some other girls. After showing up, being decked out from head to toe in a uniform that included specific socks, shorts and a jersey that all say #8, I trotted out onto the field with 21 other highly competitive female players aging from 18-thirty-something. Wow... I have never been the weakest player on a soccer field, but the humbling experience only made me hungry for more. I was asked to join the team despite what I considered a pretty poor performance (it was raining and I was sliding everywhere in my indoor soccer shoes on the slick grass of the outdoor field). They even travel to other small towns to play. I hope that's feasible for me, and that Peace Corps allows it. The players all speak only Spanish, so I better learn all the soccer vocab quick.

So for now I'm back at the home base; Jerico. I've grown fond of it actually... even when it gets cold and wet and windy. Because now I have soccer, and I've also grown to love the many winding mountain roads and beautiful views. And we go into the city of San Jose every Friday which offers a nice change. Here are some things I jotted down on one of my walks through my mountain town when the mood felt right:

My Favorite Place

This is my favorite place
An overlook onto a great river valley,
Steep, jagged mountainsides compressed on either side.

Green, green, and more lush green
Sometimes you can see for miles south,
Deeper into the valley where the mountains fade into plains.

But today my favorite place is in a cloud

Everything damp and dewy from a recent downpour.
The air brisk and wet,
The grasses dance a slow dance in a moist breeze
Esta muy obscuro hoy.
The fog grows thicker and closer
I can see its movement as it makes love to the mountainside,
Caressing softly and slowly, quieting the busy life that chirps and hums and sings,
Readying for the night.
So thick, the fog brings early darkness, so calm,
Tranquilo.

This is my favorite place.

My first Costa Rican soccer game

Green and lush and mountainous
Cool breezes rush along winding valley roads.

When it rains, we're in a cloud, thick and cool and wet.
The power goes out and we wait for la luz.
Calm, dark silence hovers.

A Tico calls out a shrill whoop, echoing in the darkness.
A response comes wailing back from across the plaza,
A secret language, sounds of life.

The pulperia thrives; quiet chatter and commerce and caffeicito glowing under dim candlelight.
Motorcycles buzz loudly by,
Cutting through the country silence, overpowering the chatter momentarily.

Not rain or wind or extreme heat or cold
Can keep the jugadores de futbol home.
We wait and cheer as the flickers of light appear.
And out we trot onto the cancha,
the hum of excitement reverberating in the air.