Motivation

There is an elementary school in Asheville, in Haw Creek, that has been keeping me motivated and inspired. At the beginning of my service I got an email from a 2^nd grade teacher at Evergreen Charter School. She wanted to connect our classrooms: to give our students a chance to make friends with children their own age in a foreign country. She had found me by chance: saw my name in the local paper announcing that I was about to serve in the Peace Corps in Costa Rica. She looked me up online and sent me an email. At the time I was checking my email twice a month- these were before the days of my bicycle ownership and I didn’t get to go into town as much. When I first got her email I was in disbelief. At the time I felt completely disconnected from my old life. I was having a hard time getting in contact with my family, I didn’t hear much from friends from home, and Peace Corps protocol didn’t allow me to leave my site very often those first three months. I spent most of my time immersing into life in Chimurria, speaking Spanish and playing soccer. Here I was, living in this tiny community of 600 people in rural Costa Rica, and *plop* into my in-box comes an email from a teacher from my hometown. It seemed so incredible to me that I could feel so removed, so far away from everything familiar, and then at the same time be google-searched, facebooked, emailed. I had never before quite realized the capacity of the internet to connect people.

I was amazed, and I was definitely interesting in starting up a pen pal exchange between her students and mine.

The day we got the first pen pal letters was so memorable. As a teacher, I was excited to share with my students to opportunity to contact native speakers their own age. It’d be near to impossible to find a more motivating classroom tool. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I was excited to be able to promote cross-cultural understanding in both Costa Ricans and US citizens. In general I was just excited that a classroom full of kids from my hometown was getting ready to “meet” a classroom of children from Chimurria, Costa Rica.

My 2^nd graders loved their letters so much. They pasted them into their notebooks- and they would pull them out and show them to me for weeks afterwards. Writing the response letters was a challenge for them, and they tackled it beautifully. Costa Rican classrooms tend to inspire perfectionism and an intense fear of failure. I try my best to avoid that mentality in my class, but my students still come to school with that ideology and it’s hard to get over. So, for them, writing letters to native English speakers was really scary. They were afraid to mess up and write something incorrect in their letters. They were nervous about what a US 2^nd grader would think about them. And it was their first time writing a letter- in any language. I guided them through the concept of a letter, of a pen pal, and each student ended up writing 2 drafts of the letter that they wanted to send. Then they filled the white space with pictures and drawings of Chimurria. I have never seen my class so focus and concentrated as when they are writing to their pen pals. I wish you could have seen how proud they were of their letters.

Afterward we took pictures of the class to send to the students in the US- to help personalize the letters- and partly because my students love having their picture taken.

The next day school was canceled for some reason or another. I was at home with my host brother (a second grader) and he asked me if he could work some more on his letter. I took it out for him so that he could work on it, some other kids saw him working on his letter, and they wanted the chance to polish theirs, too. Soon I had a group of about 5 students in my living room- and once their first letters were up to their standards, they wanted to write a second letter. I was floored. School was canceled, and here was this group of 2^nd grade students gathered together writing letters in English. In that moment I was so proud of and impressed by them.

We’ve had a few more letter exchanges, and each one is filled with anticipation and excitement by the class. They love reading and writing their letters. Each time it’s a little less intimidating and each time their English improves.

Their US pen-pals are really special kids, too. I’m proud that we share the same hometown. My mom, step-dad, and little sister had the privilege of going to Evergreen Community Charter School and actually got to meet them. The students, their parents, and teacher had organized a bake sale to raise money to send me teaching materials. They were going to pass off the materials to my mom so that she could bring them to me when she came to visit. My mom and step-dad came for a visit a few weeks ago (which deserves its own blog entry- I know I’m behind) when I opened the suitcase with the teaching materials I could have cried. After teaching all year on a budget of $0, I have been craving to use books and have more exciting interesting materials in the classroom than my sad looking drawings on construction paper. These 2^nd graders in Asheville got together to send me dozens of English books, children’s songs, markers, flash cards, tangrams, geoboards, a twister game, and various other teacher goodies. It was the most beautiful Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten. My class is going to be so much more fun, exciting, interesting. My students are going to be able to read actual books!!! I am so blessed to have been the recipient of such great teaching materials, and I am so excited for my students to be able to benefit from them. I am awed by the kindness and generosity of the students and parents at Evergreen. These kids have such big hearts, and their hard work will improve the quality of the education of their Costa Rican pen pals. It is inspiring to see kids reaching out to help other kids- they motivate me to be a better volunteer. I love Asheville for so many reasons- it’s incredible to have my community support me they way that they do.

I want to send out a giant THANK YOU to the students, parents, and teachers at Evergreen. Thanks for your collaboration with the pen pal exchange, thanks so much for the teaching materials, and thanks for keeping me motivated and inspired over the past year.

Home, sweet home

Things are winding down at my schools. By the second week of November we should be done teaching new material, and then we just review until exams. Only the kids who are in danger of failing have to take the final exams, so we will only be reviewing with a few of the students, everyone else gets to start their vacations early. The last day of school is December 16^th; we start back up in mid February.

I do have a new project to keep my occupied during the break from school. I moved! Into my own house!! I live all by myself!!! I cook for myself!!!! This is big news for me as a Peace Corps volunteer, and for me as Julia. This is the first time in my life I’ve lived alone. I’ve always had roommates, housemates, my own family or host families to live with. I was a little apprehensive at first, wondering how I manage in a house all by myself. I thought I might get lonely, or scared, or become a hermit and never leave. I’ve only been in my house for two weeks now, but so far I’m loving it, and I think it was great decision. I feel extremely safe in my community. Everybody knows me, everybody looks out for me, and I know that they all have my back. The reality is that there isn’t much crime that happens in Chimurria, either. There is really only one person in the whole town I need to look out for: Alfonso.

Alfonso is an old homeless man who goes around and takes peoples clothes that are drying on the line and then tries to sell them to people. He takes things people leave out in the yard or on their porches (toys, doormats), and carries them around on this sack on his back. He wonders around the entire county of Upala, but he grew up in Chimurria, so he comes here often. People tell me that he was born to one of the richest families in town and that he lost his fortune when he got addicted to cigarettes. He spent all his money trying to buy cigarettes and eventually lost his house and his family to his addiction. I’m not sure if it’s just a tall tale that people tell about Alfonso, or if any of its true. But I do know that he doesn’t drink, just smokes like a chimney. I’ve never seen him without a cigarette, and every time I see him he’s asking for another. Another fact about Alfonso is that he’s mentally ill. His family basically abandoned him once he started stealing in order to buy cigarettes. So he doesn’t have a home or family that will take him in. I know in the United States there is a kind of fear of the homeless, but in Chimurria there is an intense fondness for Alfonso. People call him, Alfonsito ( an endearing way to say Alfonso). They always offer him food, try and give him new clothes and a bath. But no one really wants to take responsibility for him, and it seems that Alfonsito doesn’t want to be anyone’s responsibility either. He actually hates taking showers, and if you offer him the use of your bathroom he usually gets offended and walks off. Alfonso and I have an odd relationship. He has a really bad memory, but I talk to him sometimes so when he sees me he knows that he knows me, he just doesn’t quite know how. But he does remember my last name, and usually yells it at me as we pass on the street. He likes knowing peoples names and the origins of their names. I think mine must be the only non-latino name he’s ever heard and he really enjoys saying it out loud. Alfonsito is also a mumbler, so I can’t understand much of what he says, but we get along alright. I suppose he would steal my porch mat if I left it out, but I’m not sure that I would get all that upset about it. It is somewhat of a relief to know that he is the biggest security threat to my community.

Monkey in the Middle

It’s official; I’ve been living in Costa Rica for over a year now. I flew into the San Jose airport October 5th, 2010. It is hard to imagine that a year ago I didn’t know any of the people who now I feel closest to. A year ago I had never even heard of Chimurria, I had no idea what a rainy season would be like, and I only had the vaguest idea of what I was about to get myself into. But here I am, one year later, in the thick of things. I’m smack in the middle of the time-line of my Peace Corps experience. It’s fun for me to think back on what I’ve experienced, and impossible to guess what lies ahead of me.

For example, last night, I almost walked straight into a giant spider that was dangling from the ceiling—impossible to guess that that was going to happen.
Or last week when I was traveling on the bus from San Jose, I sat next to an organic chocolate bean farmer who gave some free organic chocolate made by a women’s association in my region. Impossible to guess.
Or two days ago when no one showed up to my English class because everyone was at church for a special mass for the patron saint of Chimurria. Impossible to guess.
Actually, that last one would have been easy to guess if I went to the Catholic church.

In honor of our 1-year anniversary in-country, some Peace Corps friends and I got together to celebrate. We went to a fellow North Carolinian PCV’s apartment in the Los Santos region of Costa Rica. Los Santos is in the mountains, and it is a different world from Chimurria. It’s cold, hilly, coffee plantations everywhere. It is a sneeze away from San Jose, so the communities have more resources and people tend to be more open with each other. Costa Rica is a tiny country, but it never ceases to amaze me how diverse it is.
All of us PCVs have become obsessed with food (one of the side effects of only ever eating rice and beans) and our get together was centered around the most amazing cake I have ever seen/eaten. It was a 4 layer cake with cream cheese icing, and sprinkles! There was a red velvet layers, a carrot cake layer, and 2 German chocolate layers. It was delicious and we completely devoured it.


So here’s to year one, it’s gone by faster than I would have imagined. And here’s to year two, and all the adventures that lie ahead.

*The people in the picture are some of my PC friends- Nicole, Bryson, Brian, and Angela*

Peace Day

September 21st was international Peace Day. Personally, I think that having just one day out of 365 being devoted to peace seems absurd (I also feel this way about mother’s day, international women’s day, African American history month). But, if Peace was getting a day, I was going to jump on the bandwagon to do something extra-special for Peace. When September started I had a vision of evolving Peace Day into Peace Month. I was inspired by one of my best PCV friends, Kelsey, who was planning something similar in her site.

I give a weekly English class in my community, and I thought it would be a great vessel to execute my Peace Month plan. The English classes are a little less than 2 hours long. So my plan was for the entire month of September to devote the last half of each lesson to an activity that promoted and encouraged peace. I’ve been in somewhat of a Peace Corps rut these days, and I was going to use Peace Day as a way to introduce a new series of activities, a new short lived project, into my life. I needed a way to reenergize myself, and I had found my metaphorical cup of coffee.

The first Monday of September I go to my community center ready to launch my first Peace Month lesson. Wrong. I go to my community center only to find it flooded from the day’s downpour. A few of my students and I spent the entire class time sweeping water out of a giant building.

This is not the first time we’ve had to do this, so I’m only a little surprised. However, I am pretty bummed that my shiny new project literally got rained on. I save my lesson plan for another day, and head home to eat my rice and beans. At least I taught the value of respecting community space and pride in community through the cleaning of the community center. Right? Well, that’s how I spun the evening to myself in order to go to sleep a little less sad about the postponing of Peace Month.

Enter the second Monday of September. I had my same lesson plan all ready to go, I was a little less excited, but still looking forward to the opportunity to talk about peace. So I get to my recently cleaned community center early. I always get there a little early to give myself time to prepare. I started setting up. I set up. I wait, and wait. My students collectively show up over a half an hour late. Because we missed last Monday we had to review a lot, there were more questions, we had less time, and we never got to the Peace Month activity half of the lesson. I put the lesson plan back in my bag, and went home to eat my rice and beans. At least my students still came, even if it was half an hour late. I went to bed a little sad that Peace Month was dwindling down to Peace 2 weeks, but satisfied with the material we had covered in class.

Enter the third Monday of September. I arrive at the center. It’s not flooded (good sign). So I unlock the doors, turn on the lights, and set up for class. And wait for my students to arrive. Only three students show up. This is the lowest turn out I’ve ever had for a class. I have a solid group of 8 that come to class regularly. I was a bit disheartened that my students had decided to skip, but glad for the ones that showed up. Low turn out rates is a common phenomenon in Peace Corps land, especially in small communities like mine where there are only 500 people to work with. Not everyone is interested, has time, is brave enough to leave their house, etc. I’ve become less bothered by numbers, and try to focus on the quality of my programs. If I have a really great class with three students, that means that I got to reach three different people. (But sometimes it is hard to quiet the over-achiever voice that demands higher numbers-- tragically I’ve found that I have internalized the “more-is-better” mantra of US culture, as much as I wish it wasn’t so, and it is something that I constantly battle with.)

So, with my three students, we sat down and had a discussion about peace. We talked about what it meant to have peace for the world, for their country, for their community, and for themselves. They were quick to point out that their country doesn’t have an army. Costa Rica solves its international problems diplomatically, without arms. We talked about how that could be a lesson we could each apply to our lives as individuals, that we could learn to drop our weapons and talk about our problems. The discussion went over pretty well- especially considering the participants were a 4^th grade girl, a 6^th grade boy, and a 10^th grade boy. After the discussion we designed “peace doves.” I had cut out the outline of a dove a flying, and asked each student to write a peaceful message on each dove, and then decorate it as they wanted. I had over estimated our “peace dove” needs, and had extra doves. The kids loved decorating their doves, and each wanted to do multiple doves. One of my student’s parents came in the class towards the end and got pretty excited about the doves. She made three different ones and started talking to the kids about peace, and what peace means to her. It was the most parent involvement I’ve ever had in any of my classes. It was so awesome and spontaneous, I was grateful for her input. It was neat to see this mother participating and giving life to my Peace Day activity. After the class was over I had wanted to hang the doves in the community center, but the kids really wanted to put them on their notebooks—and our community is hosting a dance in the center next week—so they pasted their doves in their notebooks. It was a short and simple activity that was delivered two weeks late to a group of three students. I had something completely different planned in my head that what happened. I was satisfied with the activity, but in a different way than I had anticipated.

In a way, this story could be a metaphor for my entire Peace Corps experience. I signed up for this journey with a plan. I thought I knew what I was getting into. I thought I knew what I would be doing. Wrong and wrong. I had no idea what was ahead of me and I’m still getting the hang of things. Yet, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.

Independence Month

Costa Rica celebrates its independence on September 15^th (officially) but the Independence Day activities happen all month long. Today for instance, the 16^th of September, there is no school. Why? Why not!

The month starts with “civic week” where schools across the nation have morning assemblies under certain patriotic themes. These assemblies are called “actos civicos” or, you guessed it, “civic acts.” Teachers talk to the students about what it means to be a Costa Rican, how to be a good citizen, or whatever occurs to them. My favorite “acto civico” speech was about the dangers of cyber-bullying delivered to a group of 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd graders—out of the whole group only one 1^st grade girl has access to a computer (without internet). At the “actos civicos” there is a salute to the flag and 3-5 patriotic songs are sung. These songs are long, and the Spanish is so formal and antiquated that I can’t make sense of them, I just hum along.

After “civic week” is over “civic month” begins. There are still “actos civicos” every morning, but now there are nationwide holidays to celebrate, as well. The first is the “running of the torch.” Every year on September 13^th the “running of the torch” begins. The run starts up on the Nicaraguan border where a torch is passed from the Nicaraguans to the Costa Ricans. The Costa Ricans take the torch and the torch travels from town to town until it reaches the Panamanian border. The torch represents the light/hope/knowledge of independence.

September 14^th there is a lantern parade at night. School children and their parents make paper lanterns. Everyone gathers at the school grounds for an “acto civico” and then they all light their lanterns and walk around the community.

September 15^th is the official Independence Day celebration. In Upala there is a parade! Everyone meets up at the high school for the mandatory “acto civico” and then the parade begins. School bands and dance troupes, police officers, and fire fighters march through the city. The parade ends at the park (which is where I went to watch it). In the park gazebo a man with giant speaker announces each group that walks by. After the groups reach the end of the parade route they go to the basketball court to perform their act one last time.

Independence Day/Month is a huge event. Groups practice intensely for the parade, kids work hard on their paper lanterns, and teachers work hard on trying to find relevant things to say for all the “actos civicos” that take place.

Food

Breakfast: rice and beans, avocado, coffee
Lunch: rice and beans, cooked plantain, fruit juice
Dinner: rice and beans, tomato, fruit juice

Repeat for 11 months.

My diet is that of a typical Costa Rican living in the countryside. Rice and beans are the main event at each meal and they are generally accompanied by a third item, which varies. Usually all the food gets mixed together in the same bowl. Some of the more interesting combos include: rice beans and spaghetti, rice and beans and mashed potatoes, rice and beans and milk soup. Another cultural side note: there is a belief in the Costa Rican country side that spices are bad for your health and are therefore are rarely used.
I try my best to integrate into my community and live and eat as they live and eat. But, sometimes, I get bored of rice and beans. This is incomprehensible in Costa Rica, but I’m sure my US citizen readership will appreciate the sentiment. When I explain to my Costa Rican friends that most people in the US don’t eat rice and beans everyday, they get very confused. But what do you eat???? What fills you up? How do you make sure you are getting a nutritious meal? These are the typical questions that follow the state of disbelief that a person can sustain themselves without constantly eating rice and beans. A meal is not a meal unless it includes rice and beans. I made a pizza for my host family- and for dinner we had rice and beans and pizza.
The elementary school once decided to vary what they served in the cafeteria and cut back on the rice and beans. They wanted to try serving more fresh fruits and vegetables and give the children a more varied diet. The experiment didn’t last for very long. When the children came home for school and the parents asked them what they ate at school, they would respond: nothing. In their minds they hadn’t eaten because they hadn’t been served rice and beans. Parents got upset that their children “weren’t eating” and everyone went back on the rice and beans diet.

In a world of culinary monotony and limited access to ingredients, I have been pushed to become very creative in how I supplement my diet to include flavor and variety. Here are some of the things I’ve learned to make from scratch while in Costa Rica:

Bagels
Yogurt
Greek yogurt
Peanut butter
Granola bars
Salt water taffy
Lemon Bars
Cinnamon Buns
Brownies
Creamy garlic salad dressing
Black bean burgers
No-bake cheesecake

Among others

I usually make snack foods and deserts because I want to eat my meals with my host family. But I’m on the rice and beans breaking point. I don’t know how much longer I can do it. Soon, I’m sure, I will crack.
I friend suggested I start a recipes tab on my blog to add different Costa Rican and US recipes that I’ve tried and enjoyed. It’s not a bad idea and I’m going to try and figure it out. Keep your eyes peeled

July

Today I had a free day. The English teachers are in a regional meeting and English class was cancelled. They are meeting up in an effort to contextualize the curriculum to life in Upala. I tried to get in on the action, but the person organizing the meeting didn’t think that a foreigner would be of much use contextualizing the curriculum to local culture. So, instead of helping revamp the English curriculum (I’m a little sour about being excluded) I spent the morning reading and doing laundry. The book I’m reading right now is called Into Thin Air. It’s about a deadly attempt to summit Everest. Its really got me captivated, although it may be more about the fact that reading about snow and ice has an extreme allure as I sit in a tank-top and shorts in front of my fan. As I was reading about Jon Krakauer searching for oxygen in below freezing temperatures there was a troop of howler monkeys playing in the mango tree outside my room. Its amazing how reading lets you escape into another world. Reading has been a consistent pleasure in my Peace Corps life.

This past month I have had a bit of time to work on secondary projects. There is a two week break from school in July. It marks the transition between semesters. Another PCV who lives and Upala and I had been scheming up ways to make a 4 day long summer camp possible for 40 kids. We’d been busting our butts running around getting donations (shout out to Aunt Maureen for the embroidery thread!), getting kids signed up, soliciting youth to help be counselors, and roping in other nearby PCVs to help out. After a few months of planning, it was finally time to put the camp into action. The concepts of summer camp, day camp, and overnight camp, are well woven into the fabric of US culture, but not so much in Costa Rica. We told all the parents that it was a day camp, from 7-11, and that the kids would go home in the afternoon. It was all very confusing that the camp would be held locally, that the kids were not spending the night, and that we would not be having a camp fire. These were points of contention that no one really believed until after the first day of camp was over.

The first day of camp, about half the counselors did not show, but it was just as well because about half the kids that signed up didn’t show either. Its not a surprising statistic, Costa Ricans are notorious for agreeing to participate in events (dinners, outings, etc) knowing very well that they have no intention of showing up. It’s a reflection of a societal need to give positive answers to their friends and to try to please. (Its better to make Julia happy now by telling her that I am going to her camp, she can be sad later when I don’t show up). But, being the hopeless, stubborn, optimist idealists that we are, we planned for all 40 kids to show up to camp. Next year we will invite twice as many kids as we are prepared to handle, lesson learned (yet again). The good news is now we have planted the idea of seed of what a summer camp is, and we have a bunch of extra materials for crafts. Next year can only be better.

Despite the lower than anticipated number of children, camp went really well. Everyday we did arts and crafts, so they had something to take home and share with their parents. For one craft we painted plastic bottles in half, painted them, and used them as flower planters. Mine is being used as a holder for basil – I have hopes of slowly introducing spices to my community via my own spice garden, I really hope it catches on. There was a reoccurring theme of reduce, reuse, recycle during our camp. Later in the week we had a lesson on trash decomposition and the value of reducing/reusing/recycling our waste. We also made wallets out of old milk and juice boxes—these are awesome and kids love them, a PCV taught me how to make them awhile back, I wish I could say the idea was my own-- We also made friendship bracelets and macaroni necklaces. Everyday we did group building activities. Everyday these proved challenging. Working in groups with new people and trusting the same new people are not things that these kids from small communities have had to do much experience with. I’m gald we got to work through the activities though; at least it gave them a taste of how it might be to work with new people in the future. The last activity every day was a big group game. The games were always competitive, and the kids had no problem with learning new types of competitive games. The group games were a hit with the kids, who spend most of their active time playing soccer and were excited about discovering new games to play. And so went summer camp- playing games, making crafts, doing group building activities, and making new friends. It was exhausting but totally worth it. We’ve already had requests to bring camp back next year.

I’ve also started spending time teaching some youth how to dance bachata and meringue. I’m not sure how it all got started. I think I was dancing by myself to bachata music that was playing in the house and a friend asked if I could teach him to dance. Now I have five students. They all really want to learn how to dance, but are incredibly shy and reluctant to do the footwork. I’m being patient with them, though, and taking class slowly. Their first chance to dance at an actual dance will be this Saturday. There is a benefit dinner to support seniors being held in the community center, and a band is coming to play. We’ll see if my students are brave enough to take their moves to the dance floor. We may have an emergency practice session on Friday before the dinner. Saturday I will be busy baking 200 cinnamon rolls for the dinner (I’ve made them a few times here and they are a huge hit, the committee really wants them for the dinner, too) then I’m supposed to help the ladies cook the meal. I am all about this community event. We are going to have good food, good music, and good dancing, and raising money for a good cause.