Emu mu here, and emu mu there.....

The emus have arrived!  They are gangly, curious, hungry, and strange. The more time I spend with them, the more I like having them around, though their arrival was not without its low points.  I should have known when the owner pulled up at 3 a.m. that it was going to be an interesting morning, but as I shoved my feet into my boots and stumbled out to the truck, I grinned intstead of gritting my teeth.

 It happened to be market morning, so Luz and Memo had to head out around 4:30.  The kids have to get ready for school and leave the house by 5:45, so it ended up falling to me and the man who was selling us the emus to transport them to the pen.  I stood in pitch dark swooning in my usual way at the stars and pausing only when a bouncing headlamp that occasionally told me another emu was on its way.  As Steven brought the emu to the gate, I swiftly pulled off the pillowcase we used to hood them and opened the pen to usher them in.  The next to last emu, however, decided that she had different plans.  About halfway down the path to the pen, she bolted.  Head covered, she crashed through the brush and into the wide creek that runs alongside the Chinchilla home.  Steven and I chased her across the creek, into the woods, back into the creek, and into a nearby cow pasture before losing sight of her. At some point during all this mess, she managed to rip off the pillowcase, thank goodness.  It was now blushing dawn on the farm, and my chores were calling.  We decided to let the emu calm down a little in the pasture before trying to catch her again, and I ran off to care for the hens and get my littlest host sister ready for school. 

As I swept up the last of the rice from breakfast, I heard the hens screeching.  Not good – you shouldn’t be able to hear the hens from the kitchen.  Was it a skunk again?  I did not want to kill a skunk.  I arrived at the hen house, machete in hand, to find that the emu had found her way across the farm and was circling the hen house.  I couldn´t help but laugh – I imagine that for the hens, it was like seeing the Jolly Green Giant.  So began another hour of emu hunting.  At one point, as we followed her down the road to town, I looked over at Steven. “Never in my whole life would I have believed I’d be chasing an emu down the road at 8 o’clock in the morning.”

Many detours and fence-scramblings later, we finally got Pinot into the pen.  She still looks at me like she doesn’t trust me, and I return the look with gusto. I can’t help believing that she liked how helpless we were chasing her, after being cooped up so long on the truck.

p.s. The title of this post is lovingly dedicated to Johnald. :) 

Snail Mail, I love thee

An FYI - If you´ve ever received an address from me, the same one can still be used at least until mid April.  If you´ve never received it, or lost it, I would be more than happy to send it to you by email!  Just shoot me one letting me know.

Over and out. :)

Worth 1000 Words

Nothing fancy today, just some images from the past weeks.

 The view from my window when we are mowing the lawn.

 

 Flowers that have sprung up shouting from underneath one of the garden beds.

 Empanadas!  Filled with homemade pineapple jelly.  

I was so proud of myself.

Taken on the way home from a walk with Nicol. I live here!

Inside/Outside

Today is my four-month anniversary in Costa Rica. Happy monthiversary to me! It´s strange to think that I´ve been here that long - the usual rush and drag of time applies.

Often, people ask me how I learned my Spanish.  The answer is sort of drawn out: I took classes in high school and college, and studied abroad in Perú.  I always hesitate to add the last bit, due to some serious neglect of opportunity there that I think I´ve mentioned here before.  No doubt, I spoke more Spanish in Perú than I do in the States, but given the amount of time I spent there, the boost my Spanish got from the experience is laughable.  Similar things could be said about my interaction with real live Peruvians.

I´ve known for years that I wanted to reverse that model the next time I traveled, and planned accordingly for Costa Rica.  It´s paid off more than I could have imagined.  My Spanish has evolved and is evolving in ways that I am truly proud of.  The other day, discussing Spanish with a new acquaintance who is attempting to learn the language, I compared the difference between my Spanish when I arrived and my Spanish now to the difference between cheap boxed white wine and a bottle of Shiraz.  (Costa Rica doesn´t produce any wine to speak of - can you tell I miss it?)

More than that, however, I believe the most valuable part of this focusing on the language and the people has come in relationships.  Returning to San Isidro the other day, I climbed onto the bus for La Ribera tired and grumpy because the bus was unusually crowded.  Standing in the aisle and starting to feel sweat trickle down my back, I felt a tug on my skirt.  Luz, my host mom, smiled up at me.  From beside me, two of my host sisters said "Caroliiiiiina!" and one popped up from her seat to give me a hug.  Space was immediately cleared for me, stacking the youngest daughter on top of the older one.  And I burst into a smile.  What a difference being welcomed, being named, can mean.

As you all know, I am taking a course a few hours from my home here that requires me to spend three nights a week in Heredia.  The first weekend I stayed in a hotel a few blocks from the school and spent my nights wallowing in CNN in English.  Important, refreshing, but ultimately lonely.  This weekend I was lucky enough to stay with Memo´s sister Ana, who studies there.  True to Costa Rican generosity, she welcomed me into her busy life, housed me, fed me, talked my ear off, and celebrated Valentine´s Day with me by buying me an ice cream cone and openly sharing her views on love and machismo.  Instead of carrying  a styrofoam to-go plate to my hotel room and watching news all night, I snacked on papaya and papusas and listened to the latest work gossip from one of her two jobs.  Once again, I was allowed inside.

Walking with my classmates at the TESL institute as we go to lunch has really put this into sharp contrast for me.  With them, I am always "outside."  We travel in a group, speak English, and generally have a bubble of space left for us as we move from place to place.  There is nothing inherently wrong with this - one cannot learn the language for each place he or she wants to visit, nor is there something wrong with traveling with others.  But I am more thankful than ever for the moments of everyday Costa Rican life that my choices here have afforded me.

(Happy Valentine´s Day everyone.  Hope you let people you love know it!)

In which I rediscover Miss Caroline

For the past two weekends, I´ve been traveling to Heredia (just outside of the capital) to complete a certification for teaching English as a second language.  Long before coming to Costa Rica, I had set aside money to get certified while I was abroad, but had sidelined that plan in the haze of the daily joys of farming.  Sometimes, however, opportunities fall into your lap in a way that is not to be ignored.  Jeff, a friend of mine in San Isidro, recently took this same course and we fell to talking about it.  He highly recommended it, and told me some of the aspects of the class before mentioning the price.  At the number he gave, my mouth fell open.  It was well, well below what I had come up with during internet research while still in the States.  Call him, Jeff said.  There may not be room left soon.  So I did.  And there was.  A dream deferred was suddenly waiting on me only a few days and several bus hours away.

David Blake runs a teacher training facility in Canada for most of the year, and winters in Costa Rica.  He gives his certification classes at much more routine rates in Canada, but offers two sessions of class here during his "vacation." He´s taught all over the world, has an ear constantly open for business and money ideas, smokes like a chimney, and is married to a delightful Japanese woman named June who provides patient and insightful feedback as an English language learner herself. 

My classmates are an interesting hodgepodge of people. Priscilla, a seventy-something lady who landed in Costa Rica because a housing development desperately wanted her lot and offered to buy her a house anywhere in the world, has a big heart but can´t fathom the way some young people speak these days.  Jackie, a beautiful mom of three who lives in a suburb of Costa Rica that can be compared to LA in the states, comes from a special education background in the States and found herself at a loss when trying to do demonstrate "scowl" to June because of Botox.  Kevin owns a fancy bed and breakfast by the beach in Uvita, and taught Kindergarten in the States for thirteen years.  And so on.  It makes for a very interesting class experience - I have learned a lot from the students as well as the teacher.

Each hour that I spend in class, I am reminded of the joy and hardship and friendships and stress I found last year teaching ESL in New Orleans.  I have realized over and over again during lessons what an important experience that was for me - with help from Sarah at Literacy*AmeriCorps, my Corps members, and the Even Start Family, I received and created a quilted education in how to teach ESL.  I made mistakes, I made progress, I taught.  It´s been easy to feel distant from that experience here in Costa Rica, but this course has reopened my heart for the work of teaching English.  I am finding it easy once again to imagine a future of teaching.

I have one more weekend to go before I finish the course - this coming weekend I will be doing my two final practicums and learning about international job opportunities and resume writing.  The bus hours are brutal, San Jose is loud and the men obnoxious, but I believe this class is well worth it.

A Chinchilla in Charge

So, as I mentioned in an earlier post, Sunday was also the day of presidential elections here in Costa Rica.  I am so glad that I was able to be here over an election period.  I found it illuminating to see another country (especially one that is seen as a bastion of democracy and stability) go through elections in their own way. 

Many things were the same.  TV and newspaper ads got progressively more acusatory as election day grew closer.  Conversations couldn´t seem to avoid ending up on politics.  Ridiculous promises were made.  The works.  But many things were different as well.  Costa Ricans, while they employ secret ballots, are much more upfront about both asking and answering the question of "Who are you going to vote for?"  The style of  personal propoganda use was different - no signs in yards, few bumber stickers, but lots (and lots!) of flags and banners.  But more than anything, I was struck by the sense of excitement and happiness that went along with the election process.  Little kids would have an answer right away if you asked them who they would vote for.  Old men and teenage girls would get into teasing debates over who was best.  While some people would simply shrug and say "votes are secret for a reason" when asked about the subject, the subject was more open and less cynical on the whole.

All of that, though, didn´t hold a candle to election day.  Granted, I was in class most of the day (more on this later!), but there was no escaping the fact that it was election day outside.  Traffic came almost to a standstill as cars decked out in flags, banners, stickers, T-shirts, and hats crusied down the street, honking up a storm.  The combined noise was so loud that I was reminded of my hometown´s annual fire parade.  I had so much fun watching the Costa Ricans have fun.  Here are a few pictures of the street in front of my classroom:

 

  

(sidenote: the guy in the blue shirt kept "eyebrow raising" at me - who does that?)

Secondlining in Spirit

GO SAINTS!!

Let me tell you, the moment that the Saints intercepted the ball for a touchdown last night was one of the most exciting moments of my time here in Costa Rica.  I realize that might seem silly, but I had such a blast getting to participate in a fun American tradition and see a team and city I care deeply about win. (And then show the rest of the country what it means to celebrate!)